I was not sorry.
“Sorry-Daddy. It won’t happen again.”
“That’s okay, dear.”
He smiled. I blushed. We hugged. I left.
Amber listened to the floorboards. She heard me skipping towards our room.
“Get it?” Her eyes rose from behind her book but her fingers remained.
“Two,” I rolled my sleeves and two chocolate bars fell out. “Crunchie, your favourite!”
“I hate Crunchies.”
“You love Crunchies.”
“No, I hate them.” She swatted for the bar but missed by a mile. “I like Aeros.”
“Well go get one yourself then.” I snapped up the bar before she could change her mind.
“You know I can’t.”
I pealed back the golden wrapper and sunk my teeth deep into the chocolate layer. Crunch! My teeth struck the honeycomb cluster like pickaxes to some precious ore. I watched Ambers face curl with the sound of my grinding teeth. Jealous.
“Are you sure you don’t want the other one?” I reached out and she took it without a word.
I paused while she fumbled with the packet, struggling to open it. Halfway down, she played with the fold, attempting to pry it open with her newly painted nails.
Continuing her personal fight in silence, Amber worked her way along the fold, testing it for weaknesses. The golden glare reflected onto her face when she reached the top and ripped it apart. Finally, she opened the bar and set into it. All on her own, too.
“Still prefer Aero, then?”
“Ha! Crunchie is always the number one munchie for me!” She thrust the remaining chunk into the air like a sword, claiming her victory.
Oh no… I hated that face. I hated these moments. “Amber, please don’t-“
“The way the chocolate breaks away beneath your teeth like the frost layer over snow…” She was off. “The way the honeycomb snaps beneath your teeth. The way it melts in your mouth, almost like sparkling candy but with a more subtle pop. The warm and luxurious, yet eerily Brooklyn texture. That, dear sister, is why Crunchie will forever be the number one munchie for me.”
“That’s great, Amber.” Always Brooklyn… What was with her and Brooklyn?
“The number one munchie for me! Dip it in your cup of tea!”
Not the singing. Please god not the singing.
“You and me, in the sea. Got scur-vee? Eat Crunchie.”
How did she get all the guys?
“One Crunchie, two Crunchie, three Crunchie, four. I want Crunchies – more, more, more.”
And could she stay stick-thin?
“Hey sis?” Her head drooped and her eyes widened, the orange glow somehow brightening in her contact lenses. “Do we have any more?”
“Yeah, but Dad will kill us if we go get them.”
“No he won’t,” she cupped her hands beneath her chin and planted her elbows on the book, careful not to lose the page.
“Of course he will, he’s Dad!”
“No, he won’t give out to us. He’ll give out to you. Because you’re going to go get them.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are.”
“Give me one good reason why.”
“Because you love me.”
Damn it. She was right.