Noah stepped into his sister’s apartment and took off his coat, hanging it on the door hook over hers. She sat on the couch, clearly as pissed as she sounded in the texts, her blonde hair on her bare shoulders, hiding the straps of her running top. “Sarah, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“What do you mean what’s wrong? 25 years of being my brother and 26 years of being alive and you can’t figure out why I’m pissed? You cut me out and I just now figured it out after MONTHS! You don’t call, you don’t respond to my texts. You ignore me when we visit Mom and Dad. You stopped doing movie night with your work excuses. You don’t do our monthly expensive restaurant thing. You don’t even come over to say whats up. I told you I got a new job that I’ve been trying to get for almost two years, and all I got was a “Congrats, so proud of you!” text back. WHAT THE FUCK!”
“Ok, listen, I’ve been busy.” he nearly whispered.