She’ll have been here the better part of two weeks by the time she leaves. Coming in after work she goes on about the weak-shit guys that drool after her, talking about the hurricane that has been her last couple of years. We settle in like we did in high school. She boots up Netflix and I’m locked in for the next four hours on video games. She’s going off about her day in that aggressive, high volume, rapid speech way she speaks. It wouldn’t matter if she’s blowing off steam about her trifling friends or about how tired she is. It all comes out of her with that signature velocity.

Honestly, I’m checked out of the conversation. I mean, barely capable of a courtesy response. She’s going off anyway. There are stories she’s trying to bait reactions, gravitating closer to my ears and upping the volume.  I’m trying to get the dialogue out of the wizard that will tell me how to get some badass war hammer I need.

I will myself to pause the game long enough to grab a real bit of conversation. She bitches in circles, like I do, so I’ve heard it all before with a few new developments. She knows I’m barely hanging on but keeps on going anyway. After awhile she’s just absent-mindedly letting it flow while she mass snaps everyone her latest bodily addition. Laughing at their reactions to her impulse.

This is how it has been for four different leases now. Making new best friends every three months and complicating those group dynamics by fooling around with them all. She makes whole new groups of best friends faster than I can keep up. I’ve got enough memory for one name with no face and an associated event per clique.

She does her thing like this. Recklessly laughing and bitching at all the silly attempts by her would suitors she’s not thinking twice about.

She passes out with her headphones plugged in and the TV going. This isn’t a midday nap, it’s lights out for baby sister until the sun has long slipped under the mountains. I’ve hit my limit on bashing bandit skulls. I’ve got to go and walk life back into my legs. There is a slight murmur and roll over as I move past her. Her phone never stops going off while she snores.

I think about how noisy I’d have my house if she weren’t here right now. I’m done for the day and I could use some dramatic sci-fi shit like Sunshine exploding through my house or some loud-ass music to fill the spots where my thoughts and to-dos should be developing. (I’ll barely remember to put my girlfriend’s lemonade away like she asked.) Yet, I don’t way to disturb the quiet. My sister is still for what feels like the first few hours in months of partying, fooling, dancing, working, drinking.

While now asleep, I’m ready to hear about the shit going on in her life. Get riled up with her. Yell about the injustices in work life, the inconsistencies in friendship. I’m thinking I should have been a more willing participant in her one way conversation earlier. The same thought and process as the day before as she came barging in with her whirlwind of stories.

So I’m in the kitchen now reading and eating a sandwich with suspect bread. Her phone has slowed but not stopped. The sun is down and her friends are stirring.

I’m happy I can afford her a lapse, a break to slow and sleep in her continued efforts to whip her life along, careening up on walls and over rocks. Smashing through trees and boys. Her full speed life. In the midst of all that she has these few hours to be still and recover right before that one text lights up the room and finally wakes her up. Then she’s off getting ready and groaning about going out and which of her friends are acting like bitches. How she doesn’t want to go, as she grabs her dress and make up and speeds out the door.

“Are you coming back tonight?”

“I don’t know. I might come back early when I get irritated with my friends or I’ll get drunk and pass out at their house.”

And then I’m looking forward to tomorrow when her hurricane comes smashing down my door with the details of tonight. Only to realize it’ll be the last one before her storm moves westward to crash into our mom and brother.