Chapter 2

Let's talk about football, while I'm still remembering being 14 again. Everything weird happened when I was 14 and I guess that's just puberty. You know, I've never really discussed this stuff before. Never written it down like this. I think it helps a little.

So anyway, given my status as 'just one of the guys', it didn't seem too awfully strange to people when I tried out for the school football team. The state had told all the schools that if they used government money, then they had to make all the team sports available to girls. That meant either an all girls team, or if there wasn't one, like football, then girls could try out for the boys team if they wanted. I don't think there were a whole lot of girls who wanted to play football though. I was the only one I ever knew of for sure, but someone said there were some girls in Seattle who played.

Matt and Lance had come by, and with my brother Greg, they helped me get ready. I would have to wear the same pads my brothers had worn. We actually had like three or four complete sets laying around the house, but Mark, my 3rd oldest brother, was on the varsity team. And Henry was on the junior varsity team, so I had the leftovers.

"What the heck is this?" I asked, holding up a molded piece of plastic.

"A nut cup." Lance laughed at me.

Him and Matt had already put their pads on and they were just waiting on me. All three of us were going to tryouts together. That's why I stood there in the middle of the room I shared with Greg and Henry, wearing just a pair of boxers, a t-shirt, and knee-high athletic socks.

"It goes in this..." Greg was digging through the old cardboard box that had all the pads and stuff in it. He pulled out a weird looking bit of stretchable fabric that looked like a pretzel, sort of.

"That?" I made a face.

"Yeah. It's a supporter." My brother showed me how there was a pocket and the nut cup went in there.

"Jock strap!" Matt grinned at me, but I ignored him.

"How'd you guys keep this a secret from me?" I wondered, looking at Greg and he shrugged.

"Didn't know you cared," he said.

"What am I gonna do with it?" I wondered.

"Everybody has to wear a nut cup," Lance told me with a grin. "Coach said."

"Really?" I thought he might be teasing me. "But I don't have any nuts."

"So?" Matt shook his head. "He's gonna check, believe me. You better wear it, Ann."

"Yeah," Greg agreed. "Coach is a dick sometimes. If you don't wear it, he hits you in the balls."

"I don't have balls though," I repeated with a roll of my eyes.

"Up to you," Greg shrugged, but he made it sound like I'd better put the stupid thing on.

"All right," I sighed and pulled off my boxers so I just stood there naked from the waist down, except for my socks. I took the cup and the supporter thing. "How's this go? Like this?"

We finally managed it and I didn't really think much about showing my butt to those guys, except Lance sort of looked at me weird. He licked his lips and didn't say much. He got really close to my pussy too, mostly trying to help get that cup just right. I pulled the supporter up and that cup thing felt totally uncomfortable.

"Like this?"

"Here ... Your jock's kinda crooked." Matt fooled around with the stretchy straps, kind of getting them the right way around my butt. His fingertips sort of rubbed me a little and I turned around looking at him. "There," he said, looking away and blushing a bit.

"It feels weird," I decided, getting on my bed and standing up so I could see myself in the mirror above the dresser we shared.

I had smooth pale thighs, narrow hips too, but they were getting rounder, and a thin waist. But seeing that white jock strap with the plastic nut cup bulging in the pouch? I thought I looked really weird, but ... Sexy weird, you know? Like I might almost have something in there to protect. Well, I guess getting hit in my pussy would hurt a lot too, so this was probably a good idea anyway.

"Yeah." Greg laughed as he watched me check myself out. "You'll get used to it."

I jumped off the bed and pulled off my t-shirt. "Grab my bra there, Lance." I pointed at the closest thing I had to a sports bra and I wasn't exactly sure why it was hanging off the doorknob, but it had been there about a month.

I hardly ever wore a bra. In fact, I think it's safe to say that I could count all the times I'd worn a bra before that day on one hand. The one I was putting on was really more like a training bra. I'd gotten it like a year before from my aunt, who'd decided every girl in the world should have a bra no matter what. My daddy didn't care though; he wasn't making me wear it if I didn't want to. My boobs were growing, but they weren't anything but little A-cups then. I mostly hoped they wouldn't grow at all. They were embarrassing.

"You're boobs are growing!" Matt stared at me. He'd seen my boobs a hundred times, but it had been a few months. I guess he noticed it more than I did, since I saw them every day.

"Nah!" I laughed at him. "You just need glasses!"

"Yeah, they're getting big, Ann." Lance stared at my chest and nodded.

I took my bra from him. "No they're not," I sighed. "They're the same as they were before."

But when I tried to put my bra on, it felt totally uncomfortable in the too tight sorta way. The good thing about my training bra, though, was that it was adjustable. So I let the straps out all the way, but even that didn't feel really great. My boobs were pulled tightly against my chest so they kind of puffed out a little and looked stupid. I had pancake tits.

"Did the coach say everybody's gotta wear a bra too?" I looked at the guys and we all laughed.

I took the stupid thing off and just put the pads on over my shoulders.

"How do I look?" I asked them. I stood there wearing big old football pads with little A-cup tits and puffy pink nipples and a boyish sorta tomgirl body, and a big plastic nut cup in a jock strap between my thighs. The socks definitely made the outfit, I thought, and I laughed out loud at myself.

"You sure you wanna go without a bra?" Greg asked me.

"Yeah, it's cool. It ain't touch football anyway, right?" I grinned at my friends. "I wanna pound somebody!"

Matt and Lance glanced at each other and laughed, but they didn't look too sure about that.

I put on one of my brothers' old jerseys and then the pants, old stained white ones with pads that fit into weird pocket-like enclosures on my hips and thighs. I put on some old cleats that everyone had worn before me, stuffing some toilet paper in the toes and lacing them up really tight because they were sort of big. But the helmet fit okay, it was a small one and Greg said when I made the team they'd give me a new one anyway.

We were running late, so Lance, Matt, and I ran downstairs and were getting on our bikes to ride to school when my dad stopped us. He was just pulling up the driveway in the tow truck and he hit the air horn to make sure we stopped. Daddy loved his wrecker a lot.

"Football tryouts?" He looked at me and I nodded. "Don't let nobody grab your ass!" he said with a frown. "You guys make sure huh?" Daddy stared at Lance and Matt. "Anybody tries to grab her ass, you boys mess him up, got it?"

"Yes sir!" they both answered. My dad had said that to them a hundred times probably, although this time I wasn't sure I could play football without getting grabbed someplace.

"Have fun. Be home straight after, girl. We'll save you some dinner."

"Okay, Daddy!" I nodded. He really is a pretty good dad and I love him. We took off on our bikes, riding fast down the county road because we were really running late now.

The first thing we had to do at football tryouts was run. I don't know why, but I didn't ask either. I just did it. Five laps around the football field and it turned out to be harder than I thought it would be! Running with the helmet on felt hot and we had to keep our teeth guard plastic things in our mouths all the time too. And that nut cup was seriously annoying! It kept rubbing me all wrong, really chafing my skin. I had to reach down just to move it around to different spots.

But I was glad I had it! After we were done running, we all lined up. There were about 20 of us, all 13-15 years old and standing on one of the white lines they'd painted on the grass. Coach came along, looking at us while we were huffing and puffing, and he started talking about how football was only fun sometimes, the rest of the time it was work. Hard work. If we didn't want to work, we should go home and join the Chinese checkers club or something. And then, as he walked and talked, he'd hit us right on our nut cups! A good sharp rap with his knuckles so he could hear that loud, hollow, plastic sound.

RAP ... RAP ... RAP... "OWWW!"

"Where's your cup?" Coach growled at a boy who hadn't worn one, but he was busy nursing his nuts. "Go sit down over there ... Anybody that don't wear a cup every day is gonna have a short and miserable football career!"

RAP ... RAP ... RAP... "OWWW!"

"GODAMMIT!" Coach yelled. "Next one don't wear his cup is gonna be drinking Gatorade from his anus!"

I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded sort of bad.

RAP ... RAP ... RAP ... RAP ... He walked right on by me, giving me a rap and nodding his head. I don't really think he'd realized I was a girl at that point, truthfully. I felt pretty happy I'd worn that cup too.

Later on though, Coach did find out which one I was. He held a clipboard with the names of all the kids who'd signed up. "Russet!" he yelled. "Ann Russet, where you at?"

"Right here Coach!" I held up my arm. I could hear some of the other guys snickering a little, talking amongst themselves.

"Shut-up!" Coach growled at them. "Russet, you sure you wanna play football?"

"Yes sir!" I said. "I love football, Coach!"

"You don't wanna be a cheerleader?" He peered at me through my helmet.

"No sir!" I shook my head.

"You gonna cry on my football field, Russet?"

"No sir!" I stood up a little straighter. "I ain't gonna cry."

"Well, your brothers play some mean football, Russet. What do you figure on doin'?"

"I figured I'd be a running back, Coach." I was always the running back when we played in the neighborhood. "And linebacker too!"

"More like tight end!" someone said and it was such a predictable joke only a couple guys laughed at it. And of course somebody else had to say, "Or a wide receiver!"

Coach ignored them and so did I. "How much do you weigh, Russet?"

"Uh, about 85 pounds, Coach."

"Pretty scrawny for a running back or a linebacker," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "How about kicking? You ever do any of that ballet dancing stuff?"

"No, Coach, but ... Uh, I kicked my brothers in the balls before." The guys laughed at me and I sort of blushed. I didn't want to be a kicker though, they're fags!

"Oh yeah?" He grinned at me. "Which one?"

"All of em, probably," I shrugged, even though that's hard to do in football pads.

"Is that so? Hell, Russet, you just might be one of my linebackers then!" He looked down the line and yelled, "Hades!"

Brian Hades had to be the biggest 14 year old boy in existence. Everybody agreed on that. He was almost six feet tall and probably 150lbs and he wasn't fat. I thought about him a lot at night, after that first practice. But right then I felt more than a little nervous as he stepped out of the line about a dozen guys down on my left.

"Yeah, Coach?" He had a deep voice too.

Coach stepped back and picked up a football, tossing it to him. "You run over there, Hades." He pointed to my right. "Russet, get out here..." He pointed at another spot. "Now, when I blow my whistle, you tackle him. Got it?"

I nodded and my heart was hammering.

I remember the whistle blowing and I remember deciding that if I was gonna die, at least everybody would know they weren't burying some fag kicker. I ran at Brian as hard as I could and he didn't try to dodge or anything. I launched myself and...

... I woke up lying on top of Brian, our helmets close together and he was rubbing my left boob through my jersey.

"That feels nice!" he said through a big grin and then Coach yanked me up, clapping me on the helmet and it made my headache even worse.

"Now that's a football player!" He pushed me back into the line. "Goddamn! I guess you are a Russet!"

We had more tackling drills and sometimes I had the football, sometimes one of the boys had it, but almost without fail I found them feeling up my boobs mostly. Sometimes they'd squeeze my butt too, like every chance they got. Even Lance and Matt did it and that sort of burned me at first, but by the end of the two hours I'd gotten used to it and decided it wasn't worth fighting over. I wasn't happy about it though, don't get me wrong.

I made the team at least. Well, everyone did, since there were only 20 of us. We'd all have to play at least two positions and sometimes go straight from offense to defense without a break, Coach said, so that meant we had to work extra hard. I guess that's why we did five more laps before he let us go home. I felt exhausted, bruised, and a little embarrassed.

"What were you guys doin' out there?" I asked, riding my bike close to Matt, but Lance wasn't too far ahead. He could hear me.

"What?" Lance looked back over his shoulder.

"You know what," I said. "You were feeling my boobs! Both you guys!"

"No we weren't!" Matt protested. But he wouldn't look at me.

"You were too and when I tell my brothers they're gonna cream you guys!" I felt like crying, even though I didn't know why exactly. I didn't usually go cryin' to my brothers either, that sounded sorta stupid and just shows how confused I really was.

"Ann! C'mon! It's football ... We gotta touch you!"

"All the guys were touchin' you! Jeepers! Chill out, dude!"

"You guys wanna feel my tits?" I hadn't realized I'd gotten so mad, but it was all coming out. "You want to? I'll let you do it right here!" I stopped my bike and started pulling my jersey out of my pants. It was only half tucked in anyway.

"Ann! Stop it, dude!" Lance and Matt had stopped too. "We weren't doing anything, okay? Maybe some of the other guys were, but not us," Matt was talking and I just stared at him. "Look, if you think we were doing it, I'm sorry. You just gotta chill though..."

"We weren't feeling you up. We seen you a hundred times," Lance added reasonably. "You're like our sister or something, okay? Not even that..."

"Like our brother," Matt nodded.

"I don't believe you guys. I've seen you looking at me before. I should've known better!" I wiped at my eyes and started pushing my pedals again, but Lance grabbed my handle bars, stopping me.

"No, look we didn't do what you think, okay? What's the matter with you?"

I slapped his hand and left them staring after me, and that was the problem. I didn't know what was wrong with me! It was football; they were supposed to touch me, even my boobs and butt. Why did I get all bothered about it? I worried that I'd been imagining things, making a lot more out of nothing than it really was. I rode home trying to remember every time somebody had tackled me, or I'd tackled them...

"Brian Hades," I muttered to myself. It was his fault, because I knew he'd been feeling my boobs after I'd tackled him. I knew it for a fact. I'd been a little dizzy, but I remember him saying how good they felt and the way his handsome face grinned at me behind his face mask. After that I just assumed every guy out there was doing it. That must be it. Matt and Lance hadn't copped any feels. They wouldn't have done that, I was sure. We were best friends.

As soon as I got home I called Lance and told him I was sorry. He said it was cool, he understood. I called Matt's house too, but he wasn't home yet. I felt like a total butthead for acting the way I had.

When I went to bed that night, I mostly thought about Brian Hades though. I felt sort of mad at him, but part of me was feeling itchy too. I grew warm all over and fell asleep thinking about me lying on top of him again, except this time we weren't wearing any clothes.

"Hi guys!" I was already waiting on my bike when Lance and Matt pedaled up to my house. "Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday. I just..."

"It's cool, man." Lance smiled at me and Matt did too.

"Yeah, it's okay. Some of those guys are gonna be suckin' later!" Matt nodded his head. "We're gonna take care of it."

"Especially that Hades guy!" Lance gave Matt a high five. "He thinks he's tough, but nobody likes him anyway. He was totally grabbing your tits too."

"Yeah," I nodded, smiling, but inside I was cringing. How could I tell them I'd changed my mind? I didn't really care if Brian had grabbed my boobs. In fact, I was sort of hoping he'd do it again, despite my confused anger the previous day.

"He's a fag," Matt said with a jerk of his chin. "Let's go..."

RAP ... RAP ... RAP ... OWWWW!!!

"Ya'll stupid? I told you boys yesterday, wear your cups!" Coach was walking the line again after our five laps and 15 minutes of stretching. "Listen up now! We got ourselves a locker room and I got your locker assignments. I'm gonna call your name and you get a lock and a key. You lose that key and I'm gonna charge you for a new padlock! Ya'll keep that locker room clean and don't be running in the showers! I catch any of you runnin' in the showers and that means you didn't run enough out here! Got it?"

Coach called our names in alphabetical order and I sort of wondered if he'd call my name or not. He hadn't said anything about the girls locker room.

"Russet!" I walked up and he gave me a lock and key and told me "You're in 121, Russet. You got a jersey and helmet already waiting for you. There's enough towels for everybody, but just one. Ain't no cheerleaders on this team. I give you lucky 13, okay? That's your number."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Um ... Coach? Is that in the, uh ... Girls locker room?"

"What did I just say?" He stared at me. "We got one football team, Russet. We got one locker room! Cheerleaders are in the girls locker room." He rubbed his jaw, "You tellin' me I made a mistake?"

"Uh, no sir!" I licked my lips. "One team, yes sir!" I walked away feeling my heart beating a little faster.

"Well?" Lance looked at me. He'd gotten locker 112 and Matt was in 107 so they were sort of close, I thought. I had no idea, since I'd never been in the boys locker room.

"Um... 121." I held up my key. "I'm number thirteen too!" I grinned at that, because it was a cool number.

"Hey!" Brian Hades grinned at me. "Right next to me! I'm in 120..."

I blushed a little and I was glad we were wearing helmets. Matt and Lance gave him dirty looks, I thought.

"You can borrow my soap, if you want..." Brian stepped closer, putting his helmet next to mine. "But don't drop it unless you mean it."

I felt butterflies in my tummy and I pushed him away from me. "I don't want anything of yours," I told him. I walked away and Matt and Lance walked with me.

"Gonna be weird seeing you in the locker room," Matt said.

"Yeah, I think some of these guys are like retarded," Lance nodded.

"What does that mean?" I looked at him.

"Just, I heard a couple guys talking like how they wanted to know if you had a boyfriend."

"What did you tell them?" I looked around, wondering who'd been asking that stuff.

"I didn't say anything!" Lance laughed. He probably figured anything he might have said would have just made me mad again.

"That Hades guy, he said you had a boyfriend." Matt looked over his shoulder at Brian, who stood around with a bunch of guys and they were laughing about something.

"He said what?" I asked. I'd never had a boyfriend in my life. "He doesn't even know me."

"He said he was your boyfriend." Matt looked at me like he wanted to laugh, but was waiting to see what I did first.

"Really?" My butterflies were back.

"He's total ass, dude!" Lance slapped me on the helmet. "We're gonna hit him when we do the yardlines."

"Yeah!" Matt grinned.

Yardlines were when three guys lined up on the goal line and tried to stop one person from scoring with the football.

"All right! Put your locks and keys on the bench!" Coach was yelling. "Stop yer yabbering and huddle up!"

Later, after practice, I found myself in the utterly unexpected environment of the boys locker room. I had Brian on one side of my locker and a guy named Lenny Solomon on the other. He was the smallest guy on the team, even smaller than me, and was going to be a tight end. I didn't figure Coach had a lot of plays involving the tight end very much.

I found my new jersey, red and yellow and with big white numbers on the back. "Lucky thirteen," I said out loud. I smiled and looked at my helmet too. It was red with a yellow stripe down the top and 13 on the back in small numbers. I'd taken off my old one and tried it on, just like everybody else was doing.

"Thirteen, huh?" Brian looked at me. "I'm number seven." He was going to be the quarterback mostly, and whatever Coach needed on defense, since Hades was the best player we had.

"Cool," I nodded and put my helmet back on the shelf. I looked around; there were twenty guys in there, well ... nineteen guys and me. I wasn't usually very shy, but I sort of didn't want to undress with Brian right there. The other guys I didn't really care about.

The good thing was that we didn't have to undress, since we didn't have any clothes to change into or anything, but tomorrow, everybody would bring some. Me too. And we'd shower and change after practice. It kind of gave me goose bumps, thinking about it. Not the other guys, I mean. Just Brian.

"Hey, how come you're playing football?" he asked me.

"I like it," I shrugged. "How come you are?"

"Cause," he laughed. "I'm a boy. I'm sposed to. But you're a girl."

"Yeah? So what?"

There were more guys now, getting a little closer like they'd been expecting this conversation.

"So?" Brian shrugged. "I heard you like girls, like you wanna be a guy or something."

"No, I don't." I looked around and felt my face turning red. "I just like guy stuff, I don't know. Why do you care anyway?"

"So you ain't a queer?" Brian looked down at me. He had to be at least a foot taller than I was and weighed almost twice as much. He had buzz cut blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He had nice lips, sort of thick but ... Nice when he smiled, with really cute dimples. I swallowed and looked away.

"I ain't queer."

"You ever kissed a boy?" He grinned at me and some of the other guys were grinning too.

"Maybe," I said and then Lance and Matt were coming over.

"Hey, you ready to go, dude?" Matt looked at me while Lance stared at Brian.

"Dude?" Brian laughed. "If that's a dude, I'm turning queer!"

"Big surprise," Matt muttered.

"What's your problem?" Lance asked Brian. Lance and Matt were about the same size, maybe five and half feet tall 120 pounds maybe, not real skinny and sort of wiry strong, you know. It would take both of them to take Brian on and Hades had friends there too.

"No problem, man. I was just asking her why she wants to play football." Brian closed his locker. "If you guys are fuckin' her, all you gotta do is say so."

"You better shut up!" Matt told him.

"Who's gonna make me?" Brian pushed his hand against Matt's chest. "You?"

"Yeah!" Matt shoved back and then Lance tried to hit Brian in the head, but only hit his shoulder pad.

After that it was just everybody shoving and shouting and I was trying to break it up when the Coach started yelling.

"What's going on? Hey! Hey!" He grabbed people by the pads and yanked them out of the way until Coach got to where Brian, Matt, Lance, and I were more or less holding each other's jerseys and pushing and pulling without much result.

"What kind of crap is this?" He looked at us. "Let go! Everybody!" We all let go. "Now, what the hell is this all about?"

Matt looked down. Lance looked at me. I started to open my mouth to say something, but Brian started talking first. "My fault, Coach. I was talking about how I never saw a girl play football before."

"Well, you seen one now and she kicked your ass out there!" Coach looked around at all the guys. "She kicked all ya'lls ass. If we had ten more like her we'd be state champions. You might be bigger..." he looked at Brian. "And you might be faster, and you might even have dicks!"

There was some smirking but Coach looked around and it got quiet again real quickly.

"Havin' a dick never won a football game! Being bigger never won a football game! You gotta have balls if you wanna be champions!" He looked at me, "You gotta have balls to walk in a boys locker room with tits! Ya'll go ahead and piss her off; I'm staying out of it. This is your locker room. But when Russet kicks your ass, don't come running to me! Got it?"

Coach walked out and left us looking at each other. I felt a little embarrassed actually by what he'd said, but not too much and maybe he was right. Lance and Matt looked at Brian and then at me, asking if I was ready to go home.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Hey, uh ... I'm sorry." Brian gave me a half-smile. "Um, Ann ... Right?"

"Yeah. It's okay." I smiled too, thinking I was liking him a lot and not understanding why. "Brian."

"You believe that guy..." Lance and Matt talked all the way home, but I wasn't paying too much attention. Mostly I thought about Brian and how we'd be taking a shower together after practice tomorrow. I'd taken off that stupid nut cup, there was no way I could ride my bike while I wore it, but I'd left my jock strap on. I sort of liked the way it felt when I was rubbing myself on the bicycle seat.

When I got home, I went up to my room looking for Greg to help me take off my jersey. It was hard getting it over the pads, but he wasn't around. Nobody seemed to be around except Steve, he was doing his homework, or so he said. But I saw what he was really doing on the computer before he realized I'd walked into our little den.

"Hey! What was that?" I asked, grinning at him.

Steve is kind of the strange one in our family, well ... I guess we're all a little strange, but he's stranger than most of us. He was going to college then, studying mechanical drafting, but mostly he studied boobs on the internet.

"Uh ... Nothing." He looked over his shoulder at me, "How's football?"

"It's okay. Can you help me get my jersey off?" I looked at him and he laughed at me. "What?"

"Come here. Do it like this..." He reached under my jersey and unhooked the pads, loosened up the laces too. "Now just take it all off at once." I did it, lifting my pads with the jersey still over them, right off my shoulders.

"Wow!" I giggled and put my pads down on the old couch we had in there. "That was easy." I wondered why I hadn't thought of that before.

"Yeah," Steve replied, but he was staring at me as I stood there naked from the waist up.

"What?" I put my hands on my hips.

"Nothing." He rubbed his ear with his finger like he was cleaning it. Steve was a good looking guy. I think all my brothers are good looking, but I'm sort of partial. He has dark hair, like our dad, and a nice body. He had a bunch of girlfriends over the years, but nothing ever serious.

"I'm gonna, um ... Go take a shower." I sort of tilted my head. I didn't know why we were looking at each other, but he just kept staring at me and I kept looking back.

"Everything's okay with the football, huh?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I just said so, why?"

"Matt called last night, asking for you. I told him you were sleeping and..."

"Why'd you tell him that?"

"Because you were!" Steve laughed at me. "Anyway, he said you were pissed cause some guys were feeling you up."

"Yeah, I don't know." I shook my head. "It's no big deal." I smiled at him, wondering if he was going to offer to beat someone up for me. Steve was pretty much my self-appointed champion and had been since I could remember.

"Well, just don't be pissed, okay?" he said and that surprised me.

"I'm not. Come on, Steve..." I rolled my eyes.

"I mean it, Ann. Guys are gonna do that, they don't know you're a..." he frowned.

"A what?"

"A ... I don't know what ... I just mean they're gonna think you want it, you know? Unless you do something about it."

"I'm gonna want it?" I snorted. "I don't want anything, Steve."

"Right, but, you know ... You're hot." He gestured a little helplessly. "Even with the buzz head cut, you're prime, you know? I'd do you."

"You'd do me?" I giggled and gave him a look, like 'What the hell are you talking about, dude?'

"In a heartbeat," he laughed. "Seriously. Sister or not."

"Uh..." I didn't know what to think about that.

"Don't you ever think about it?"