Stay away from my sister

“She’s hot, hot, hot!” My eyes bulged out as I stared blankly at the Facebook comment. Each additional word cut like a sharp knife into my growing anger. I’ve let it slide when I heard guys call my sister tall, pretty, even cute — but hot? Hot is one step away from the word that starts with an “s” and ends with –exy. 

My fingers furiously flew across the keyboard, “I really hope you’re not referring to my little sister.” Without thinking, I posted the response.  

See, my 13-year-old sister Caitlyn is lucky to have me around. Good-sister-wise, I’m the total package. Not only do I give her valuable fashion advice and edit her incomprehensible history essays, but I also (most importantly) act as her personal “boy-repellent.” 

Ever since she’s entered the awkward, hormonal stage of middle school, I’ve been extraordinarily attentive with her relationship status. It is my solemn duty to see that she remains lonely and single. Like me.

In January, Caitlyn played the role of Gabriella in the middle school production of “High School Musical.” She and the boy who played her boyfriend Troy in the musical put on a very adorable act. I, along with the rest of the audience, sighed when they looked lovingly into one another’s eyes and cheered when they held hands.

But a couple days later, when I walked past her room, I noticed her phone light up with an Instagram notification. Being the curious (not nosy) big sister I always am, I peered down to read the comment “cutest couple ever.”

I nearly dropped her phone as I scrambled to open the photo. There it was, the same picture I had helped her pick out to post, complete with 63 likes and just as many suggestive comments. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I scrolled through ship names, hearts and “awwwwwwww’s.” 

Blehghghh. I shuddered.This was real-life romance, and I was not a fan. 

My gasps of surprise must have caught Caitlyn’s attention, because when I looked up she was staring at me. I casually put down her phone, smiled and asked, “Sooooo…. What’s going with that boy?”

She looked at me with a puzzled expression and said, “Nothing? Why?”

 I was somewhat relieved. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop me from asking anonymous questions about their relationship on Caitlyn’s friends’ ask.fms. 

“So… What’s going on between Caitlyn and [boy.] PS this isn’t Caitlyn’s sister.”

I tried to be secretive. Key word: Tried.

Although I was later assured by her friends’ answers that it was a false alarm, I realized Caitlyn was catching on to my snooping. 

Deciding it wouldn’t be safe to look through her phone so frequently, I made my own Instagram to check up on her. It’s not ideal for stalking —  since Caitlyn isn’t one of those people who posts about her relationships. But it’ll have to do until August, when, for the first time in six years, I will be able to track her every move at school.

Sure, say that I’m nosy, paranoid, that I’m crazy for “holding her back from young romance,” but the truth is, I don’t want to share her with any smelly, rude middle school boy.  In a year and a half, we’ll be in different schools again, maybe even different states. The time we have together should be spent crying over “Dance Moms,” learning piano duets and gossiping about other people’s love lives. 

We’re like Elsa and Anna in “Frozen.” Anna doesn’t always know what’s best, and Elsa needs to watch out for her. Of course, Caitlyn isn’t “blinded by true love,” but that doesn’t mean I’m off the hook. 

So to all you upperclassmen guys who are just waiting to pounce on the next round of unsuspecting freshmen, know that I’ll be watching your every move. 

I may be only an inch over 5 feet, but I can yell a storm.

“NO, CAITLYN WON’T BUILD A SNOWMAN WITH YOU.”