Dramatic, Mushy, Complicated Love

just by texting her,” I teased, leading the way over the back lawn to the back door.
“Are you just going to leave the ladder against the house? Aren’t you worried about someone—”
“Someone climbing up on my roof and stealing my what? Useless TV aerial?” Looking over my shoulder, I gave Spring a smirk.
“You worry too much about the small stuff and not enough about how much your feet are going to hurt in about one hour from now.”
“And you don’t worry enough about anything, Meadow.” Entering the back door behind me, Spring kept going with her lecture.
“You know Mum and Dad are the airheads of this family, Brecken not far behind them. The least you and I can do is balance their crazy with some adult behaviour, you know what I mean?”
Stalking through the kitchen, past the mess of this morning’s dirty dishes on the sink, I didn’t say a word because I knew Spring was not even close to being finished.
That was the thing with my sister. She was a full-blown grown-up adult, twenty-three years old and more responsible than our parents. The other issue Spring had was her name.
She hated it. Cold stone despised it.
The words unique and interesting didn’t appeal to Spring Fawn Tessler. Although she did have a point to some degree, our names were … different. Brecken Wolf and Meadow Lavender weren’t exactly the names of a typical nuclear family. Lennie and Trish didn’t exactly roll with nine to five jobs or the obligatory family station wagon.
Our parents always encouraged us to be our own person, live our own lives, calling them by their first names, instead of Mum and Dad. As young children, my siblings and I didn’t think it was weird, but then primary school happened, and we discovered pretty quickly we were in a completely different category than the rest of the kids.
Me, being the oldest, faced the criticism and teasing first. Not long after that, Spring arrived at school and then Breck, and suddenly the student population had targets everywhere. Merciless teasing about our names, our parents and the way we dressed. Nothing escaped the scrutiny of our fellow classmates. The worst had been school events and parent-teacher interviews when Trish and Lennie would be unleashed into our world.
Spring was and still is, embarrassed by them, Brecken and me, not so much anymore.
Our upbringing had been more than tolerable, mainly because we never experienced the angst of overbearing parenting like our friends had. We never received time-outs or punishments such as groundings or loss of pocket money. As we got older and went further in school, we discovered that we were more popular because we had no parental supervision, no restrictions on having parties, or limits and boundaries to adhere to either.
All in all, we grew up just fine. Spring had a different view on it, however.
“Trish and Lennie prefer free spirits to airheads, Spring. Just saying.” Leading the way down the hall, I entered my room, going straight to my walk-in and started going through the rails of clothes for something to wear.
“So, if you are dressed up like a princess going to her formal, does that mean I have to as well?” Please say no, please say no.
“Damn right you do. As you said, the Western is a dinky joint at best, so I need someone else to look out of place with me.” Walking past me, Spring went to the racks of dresses, the good ones, and sorted through them one by one. Knowing that any choice was no longer mine, I left my sister to do her thing while I took a quick shower. My bathroom was attached to my room by a sliding door. It was not an en-suite because it was the only bathroom in the house with another entry from the hallway for guests to use. The previous owners cut an entrance from the walk-in to the bathroom and called it an en-suite when they listed it for sale.
Standing under the hot water, I allowed myself to reflect on the night ahead. Typically, Spring and I would go to a bar with live music and a dance floor, getting a group of our girlfriends and we’d make a long night of partying. We weren’t party animals by any stretch, once a week being our limit for drinking and staying out late, so going out on a weeknight and a pub at that was giving me the impression my sister really liked this guy, Ace.
Not one for wasting water, I showered and dried myself quickly, donned some lace knickers, sans bra, wrapped the towel around my body, and went about my hair and makeup.
“Spring, what am I wearing?” I shouted as I swiped a satin red lipstick over my full lips, happy with the colour and its impact on my silver-blonde hair.
“Do I need a bra or not?” Tossing the lippy back down on the vanity, I turned and started to walk back through my wardrobe, seeing my sister standing in the middle with a dress hanging from her fingers and a cheeky grin splitting her face.
“I guess not,” I answered for her, recognising the dress she had chosen. Smiling, I took the shimmery fabric from Spring. “It’s going to be one of those nights.”
***
Entering the Western, I noticed tonight was not just the usual night at a regular pub. Live music was booming from the front of the pub where a makeshift stage had been erected to accommodate the band and instruments. I instantly recognised the upbeat music to be that of one of my favourite local bands.
“And now I understand the dress,” I mumbled out loud, not that Spring was listening to me. She was already ahead of me, in seek and search mode for the man who’d invited us tonight. Tucking my ruby red clutch under my arm, I veered away from Spring and headed to the bar. One of my brother’s friends worked at the Western as a bartender,