Pride Over Prejudice
By Reiko Anne Nguyen
Publish Date: January 22, 2011
Prologue: The Other Sister
I'm not perfect. I'm not smart. I'm not talented.
...I'm not Janie.
And yet he keeps talking to me as if I were her. Looking at me as if I were her. Commenting on how much I look like her.
...But I'm not her!
I had always been proud, not necessarily because I was different from my straight-laced sister, but because I was more than satisfied with our differences. I love my sister. I love the little things that make us contrast, and I never once wished I could be more like her...
Scott Phillips was the last boy I ever needed approval from. He was, without a doubt, the most horrible snot-faced-kid I could ever come across. I suppose growing up spoiled and privileged was to blame, but I wasn't going to sympathize with him. Nu-uh. The guy deserved every rotten look I threw his way—especially with the way he treated my sister while they were growing up. I remember the first time they met. I was only four at the time, but the memory of my sister crying on the front lawn was something I could never forget. He always made her cry, which brings me to the irony of their story. He loved her. Maybe not to the extent Benny loved her, but definitely enough to let down his guard.
I really ought to be rejoicing the fact that Scott Phillips, my sister's school bully, was finally paying for his evil deeds. I felt like I should have been smug, but that wasn't the case where my heart was concerned. For the first time in my life, I was jealous of my sister. I envied the fact that she was the one who changed him—the one who got him to grow up. He was the diamond in the rough, and she was the one who polished him to shine. I wish it had been me.
How I came to fall in love with Scott Phillips is a long story—and one I'm still trying to figure out.
Disclaimer: "The Sandlot" was written and directed by David M. Evans. I do not own anything related to the movie other than this fan written fiction and the original characters I have created through my own imagination. I assure you that this piece of work does not make any profits, nor will it be published in the future. Copyright infringement is not intended.