Chapter 3 cont'd

I wolf down my pathetic breakfast, even though my anxiety still has me feeling like I'm going to vomit at any given moment, while my sister relishes every last bite of hers. I'm going to have to find a Starbucks STAT to keep my stomach from eating my intestines.

She picks up the tab for both of us and we make our way out the door. We pass all of the cool looking New Yorkers rushing by us in their expensive looking designer skirts and suits. I'm in ripped, flared jeans and a homemade Jimi Hendrix t-shirt. I'm as out of place with my sister as a hippy at a John Tesh concert. I may have to bust out some hipper duds for dinner. I feel like such a small-town girl that can't keep up with the big city gal because I'm apparently walking too slow for my sister's taste. She keeps yelling "Come on! Keep up!" and pulling me like I'm a puppy.

Salvation! A Starbucks at 30 paces! I barge in, trip loudly over a chair and almost scream my order of a HUGE iced vanilla latte with an extra shot for good measure. The kid behind the counter has blue hair, an ugly lip ring and a perma-sneer, and he has the audacity to look at me like I'm a weirdo. Whatever. Just give me my damn coffee. I throw my money at the barista, run out the door and light up a cigarette. I gave it a good run, but I just couldn't wait any more. If this isn't bliss I just don't know what is. Then I happen to look over at my sister. She is staring at me with such a look of complete disdain, you'd think I had just decided to take a pee on the sidewalk.

"I'm really sorry Christine," no I'm not "but I figured you'd have to find out sooner or later. I smoke sometimes." All the time that I'm awake. "I only do it if I'm nervous or drinking coffee." Or beer or just plain all the time. Why does she make me such a liar? Why do I feel like I have to explain myself to her? Why am I such a phony with her? She glares at me, starts this fake coughing fit, and stalks away. And this is why I don't smoke in front of anyone. They act like you're firing bullets into a crowd or something. Whatever. I guess my cigarette and I are supposed to follow.