I’m Coming! I’m Coming!

Temmuz 19, 2022 0 Yazar: admin

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You know what to expect by now. So, let’s gooooooooo! Everyone here is over the age of 18.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” my younger sister, Quinn, yelled down the stairs.

I stood in the living room, arms crossed, barely holding back my rage as it rolled through my stomach, raced up my chest, and bloomed across my face.

“We have to go!” I hollered up the stairs at her. Dammit. Quinn was going to ruin everything.

“Just hang on, Zack, I’m almost there!” Quinn said. Her shout was followed by a loud crash. It sounded like she’d tipped over something heavy and dumped out all its contents. I was too upset about the time to worry if my sister was OK.

For what felt like the hundredth time, I looked down at my phone. We were already an hour behind schedule. One hour. An hour ago, we were supposed to be getting into Mom’s SUV. 40 minutes ago, we were supposed to have picked up our friends at their respective houses and hit the road. Twenty minutes ago, we were supposed to be well on our way to our destination.

In fact, at this very moment, we were supposed to be pulling up to the parking lot at the Renaissance Faire, getting out of our car, and making our way towards a place of mystery, magic, adventure, and a fuck ton of alcohol.

And then I would finally have my shot with the girl of my dreams, Julia, and we would… Well, it didn’t matter what Julia and I would be doing because my sister, Quinn, couldn’t even get down the stairs let alone get out of the fucking house!

“I’m sorry, I’m trying my hardest,” Quinn said, “It’s just, ugh, complicated.” I saw a flash of a green dress as my younger sibling raced across the upstairs hallway from her bedroom to the bathroom.

I looked down at my own outfit. I’d put on a dark blue tunic with white stitching in a vaguely Celtic pattern. It hung loosely over my broad frame. I also had on a pair of simple, tan slacks, tied with a rope around the waist, and dark brown (thankfully modern) hiking boots. Instead of a wallet, I’d tied a little pouch around my neck with my credit card and ID. I was wearing a perfectly acceptable, mostly-period correct costume, and it had taken me all of five minutes to put it on. What could possibly be taking Quinn so long?

“If you don’t hurry up, I’m going to go without you,” I said, not the first time I’d made this empty threat.

“Don’t you dare, Z!” Quinn said, her voice echoey from the bathroom.

My sister had always been this way. Always. According to Mom, Quinn had missed her own due date by over a week, and that was just the beginning. It wasn’t that my little sister was lazy — far from it. Quinn was a constantly bounding bundle of boundless energy. But that was the problem. She was so spirited she didn’t know where to keep it all, bouncing off everything around her till she crashed into her next momentary distraction.

I don’t know why I thought, now that Quinn was an 18-year-old college freshman, that she’d change. I’d spent my entire elementary, middle, and high school years standing in that very spot at the base of the stairs, waiting for my sister to get ready. I’d missed whole chunks of classes, birthday parties (including my own), movies — you name it. All because Quinn was constitutionally incapable of being on time.

Usually, these days, I didn’t let it bother me. I was out of the house now, a Junior at college, and able to be as punctual as I preferred. Besides, despite her constitutionally crappy timing, I truly did like my sister. Quinn was sweet and caring, so full of life that it was hard not to feel happy when she was around. Like a little bowlful of endorphins. But in that moment, I couldn’t focus on any of that, because we were So. Fucking. Late.

I grabbed the keys out of my pocket. This was it. I was going. Quinn could walk for all I cared. Julia was waiting and I wasn’t going to miss out.

“Ready!” Quinn said, rumbling down the stairs.

I froze. Gawped. The car keys clattered as they hit the floor. Suddenly, I understood why Quinn had taken so long.

“What?” she asked, freezing in place on the staircase

“Wow.” It was the only word I could conjure.

Quinn was wearing a pair of knee-high, leather boots with silver buckles running up her shins. Her forest green leather skirt hung to about mid-thigh. She had a brown belt with a large silver buckle hanging over her hip with a thin scabbard to one side.

Above that, Quinn’s tight, matching bustier bared her belly button and pushed up her chest, prominently displaying her petite, perfect, pinkish globes. Her arms were bare, but she’d painted the right from shoulder to wrist with a sparkling turquoise and pink pattern of whirling feathers and whorling fire. In her hand, she was holding a sculped wooden staff of twisting branches that was about a foot taller than her.

Quinn had made up her face just as meticulously. Her lips were full and red, her cheeks rosy, and her eyes darkened. She’d taken her long, honey brown hair up in a bun at the back, but left two asyabahis yeni giriş full, winding braids in the front, hanging down to her shoulders. She had on a set of small, pointed, elf ears. On her forehead, the final piece, was a thin, ringlet crown of brambles.

My God.

My cute, pixie sister had morphed from a five-foot three, petite college freshman into a completely convincing, gaspingly gorgeous, passionately powerful elven warrior. Incongruously now standing casually in our house. And I had to concede, she looked sexy as hell.

“You look incredible, Q,” I said, finally able to form the words. “How did you?”

“Some of my drama friends helped out,” Quinn said, “Does it look OK?”

“It looks… wow,” I said. Again, losing the ability to speak.

“I’m supposed to be Eilonwy, my elf character,” Quinn said, “You know from D&D?”

“Oh,” I said. It took me a moment to remember. I’d DM’d a huge campaign in high school for my friends. My sister had joined our party as an Elven ranger my senior year. I’d never realized until that moment how much she’d gotten into her character.

“Well don’t just stand there, slack jawed, Z,” Quinn said, “We’re running late!”

“Right,” I said. I was so entranced by her outfit, I’d forgotten to be angry.

I grabbed the car keys off the floor, and we raced outside. But the SUV wasn’t sitting in the driveway.

“Oh shit,” I said, looking at the empty space. My brain couldn’t comprehend what had happened. Like when your dog sees you move the couch across the room. My whole conception of reality was snapped right in front of me.

I grabbed my phone and called Mom. My voice strangled with despair.

“I needed to run some errands and saw it was still here,” Mom said, “I figured you’d decided to do something else.”

“Quinn was running late,” I said.

“That makes sense,” Mom said, “Well, I’ll be back in a couple of hours if you need my car.”

“We’re already running late,” I said, as if my mother could do anything about that now.

“We’ll take, Pokey,” Quinn said, loud enough to be heard on the mic.

“Sounds good, talk to you soon!” Mom said, clicking off before I could argue further.

I turned to my sister. “Q, we can’t.”

But she was already racing down the driveway before I could stop her. Quinn punched in the code to open the garage. The door screeched and roared like we’d been keeping a pet Wookie inside.

But instead of a giant, furry bear-man, the garage door peeled back to reveal a perfectly serviceable, early-90s-era Ford Explorer with over 200,000 miles on the odometer and the kind of patina that’s usually reserved for copper bowls discovered in dig sites from classic antiquity.

My parents had bought Pokey for me when I first got my license. After I’d left for school, I’d handed him off to Quinn to use for the same purpose. At this point, I was starting to believe we’d be passing him down to our grandchildren someday. That car was a survivor.

“”We can’t take Pokey,” I said, running my hand through my short, brown hair. The urge to rip it out with my fingers was getting stronger.

“He’s running fine,” Quinn said, “I took him yesterday. What’s the problem?”

“Well, for one thing we won’t all fit,” I said.

Quinn counted us off on her fingers. “You, me, Jacob, Cody, Wes, Julia… Oh shit.”

“Yes, I know,” I said.

This was why I’d been planning on taking Mom’s new Pilot. With six of my old high school friends coming along — my old D&D group intact for the first time since high school — that extra row was going to be a necessity.

“We’ll just have to squeeze,” Quinn said. Then she did a little flounce as the idea occurred to her. “Or maybe Julia could sit on your lap.”

My little sister knew about my not-so-little crush, of course. She used to tease me all the time about it. For a moment, the image of buxom blonde Julia perched on my thigh was enough to make me think that this might work out for the best, after all.

“Wait, really?” Quinn said, her green eyes going wide, “You still have feelings for Julia!?”

I looked away. Julia had been my it-girl in high school. That wasn’t the kind of thing that melted away when you went to college.

“I know, but, three years, Z,” Quinn said, “Weren’t you dating that other chick for a while?”

“Melissa and I broke up,” I said.

“And you were thinking that a trip to the Ren Faire might be the moment to finally make the move on your epic crush girl?” Quinn asked. Despite my sister’s playful banter, she didn’t sound teasing, which I appreciated.

“Something like that,” I said, staring at the sun-washed pavement. “It’s not the stupidest idea ever, right?”

Quinn twisted one of her sienna braids, looking at me on angle. “No, it’s not the worst idea,” she conceded.

“Anyway, let me text the team and see what they want to do,” I said.

A moment later I got a terse response from Jacob. “Already on the road.”


I called him asyabahis giriş before I could freak out any further.

He picked up without even a hello. “We got tired of waiting for you, dude,” Jacob said over the low rumble of road noise.

“Hi Zack!” Julia shouted from somewhere distant. My heart warmed just hearing her voice.

“We took Cody’s new car,” Jacob said, “Some sorta Toyota thing.”

“It’s super awesome!” Julia said, adding her color commentary to the conversation.

“It’s whatever,” Jacob said.

“We’re heading out now,” I said, “We’ll meet you at the Faire?”

“Sounds good,” Jacob said.

I was already racing over to Pokey as I hung up.

“What’s going on?” Quinn asked, idly following me to the car like we had all the time in the world.

“You’re killing me, Q,” I said.


“Seriously, what’s the deal with you and Julia?” Quinn asked.

We were on Route 17, headed north. Finally. The tiny road was clogged with traffic, as if I needed any more complications. Pokey whined and moaned every time I hit the gas, but he continued on, gamely.

“I don’t know, I just like her,” I said, “I always have. You know that.”

“I guess I kinda don’t see it,” Quinn said, “I mean, she’s nice and all. But like, OK, she’s got big tits. So what?”

“It’s not her ch… Jeez Quinn,” I said, “I’m not talking about this with my sister.”

“OK, fine,” Quinn said. She paused, like considering her options. “Look, you know I love you and support you and all that. I want you to be happy. But you’ve been drooling after this girl for forever and nothing’s happened. So, like?”

“I’ve never told her how I feel,” I said.

Back in high school, I’d been awkward. Shy. Julia was this incredibly attractive, yet also totally sweet girl. The kind of high school unicorn who was both extremely cool and yet also exceptionally dorky. Practically perfect.

And while I had been more than capable of telling a girl that three murderous orcs were about to cut her head off with an axe (I was our dungeon master, after all), I felt far less comfortable telling her I thought she was the goddess made real on Earth.

Going to college changed all that. I dated a few times, lost my virginity, and even met my first serious girlfriend. But now that Melissa and I had broken up (for real this time, I swore), I knew that I had to take my shot with Julia. I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if I didn’t.

“What about you?” I asked, quickly changing the subject. “That outfit is pretty racy. Trying to pick up someone in particular?”

“No,” Quinn said a bit too quickly.

My younger sister wrapped one of her braids around her finger. Again, I marveled at what she’d created of herself. Not only the intricacy of her outfit, the complexity of the character she was inhabiting, but the way it showed off her body. Her firm tummy and impertinent breasts. She was still the girl I’d grown up with, but also this mysterious, exotic being — beautiful and alluring and somehow transported to the passenger seat of an ancient SUV.

“I don’t know, I always just liked the idea of her,” Quinn said, “My character, I mean. And when I showed some of my drama friends my sketches, they offered to help me out. It looks pretty good, don’t you think?”

“Amazing,” I agreed.

“Worth the wait, right?”

I risked looking away from the road to glare at my sister.

“No,” I lied.

Quinn cackled and grinned, twisting her braid. She kicked her legs up to the dashboard. I struggled to stay focused on the road and stop staring at the captivating shadows my sister had barely hidden beneath her skirt.


We parked out in the middle of a meadow, over rolling hills of grass, backed up against a surprisingly thick forest. The parking lot seemed endless, infinitely filled with cars, and we were clearly at the very back of it. I pulled into a quiet and shady spot that would have been bucolic if it wasn’t for the fact that we were surrounded by rows of overheated vehicles, and the clouds of sandy brown dirt that they’d kicked up to get there.

“I didn’t realize the lot went back this far,” Quinn said, stretching by the side of the car. Again, I forced my eyes elsewhere as my sister’s stunning body was exposed to the sun. Her long, lithe arms and surprisingly prominent, perky chest and butt.

“We’re definitely out in the boonies,” I said, “I could murder you here and no one would know.”

“Mom would be suspicious if you came home alone,” Quinn said.

“I’d just tell her you were running late,” I said.

Quinn’s green eyes flashed fire, but she didn’t respond.

We hiked through the overbaked lot and made our way back to the front of the Faire. Already, I was glad that I’d chosen to wear period-incorrect, perfectly comfortable boots. As we walked, I texted Julia to see where she was at, but she didn’t write back.

“They’re probably inside the Faire somewhere,” Quinn said, like this was deep wisdom. “Don’t worry, we’ll find asyabahis güvenilirmi them.”

“This wouldn’t be a problem if we’d been on time,” I said.

“Worth it,” Quinn sang, gesturing at her outfit. She did a little spin, then started to skip through the parking lot.

That was the other problem with my sister. She was so buoyant and bubbly, it made you feel like the asshole for ever being mad at her. Even when Quinn was clearly the one who was clearly at fault — I often found myself fighting back the urge to strangle my sister, only to accidentally hug her, instead.

We crossed the street from the parking lot to the Ren Faire and hiked up a slight, grassy hill before we came to a hut where they sold the tickets. I leaned in the window and paid for myself and Quinn, then we went over to the entrance.

We approached a surprisingly tall set of stone towers with a wooden bridge at the second story spanning the two, creating a gateway into the Faire. A man in a jester’s outfit leaned over the edge of the bridge, calling down to people as they walked under him.

“Why do you associate with such a pauper, fine elf?” the foole called down. “I’m certain you could search out a much finer companion than he.”

I quickly realized he was talking to Quinn. My sister made a show of turning and evaluating me. I wasn’t in bad shape — my build had always been stocky — broad in the chest and shoulders with naturally well-defined thighs and calves. You’d say I had the starting linebacker starter kit, except I was only 5’9″ and less coordinated than an inebriated sea lion on skates.

I’d started working out after Melissa and I split and now you could barely even see my stomach in my blue tunic. In other words, I thought I was looking pretty good, all things considered. The jester’s comment, and Quinn’s evaluating eye, made me doubt myself way more than it should have.

“This one amuses me,” Quinn told the jester with a shrug

“Well, if humor’s what you want, I have a way better offer,” he replied.

Again, Quinn looked my way, thoughtfully resting her chin on her hand.

“No, I think I’ll keep him,” she said finally, “He’s way too cute.” Quinn grabbed my hand, pulling me into the Faire.

It was like stepping into another world. Not a real Renaissance, per se, but also far from the suburbs we’d left too late that morning. In the distance was an open field spotted with small, wooden shacks. Men walked by wearing leather armor, while the women had bright colored dresses and costume jewelry. Many of the people we passed were holding turkey legs and steins of beer. A man pushed a pickle barrel nearby, making bawdy jokes about his wares. There was light, string music and loud, off-key singing. Long, multicolored ribbons hung from everything.

Despite all the distractions, I couldn’t take my mind off what Quinn had just said.

“I’m cute, huh?” I asked.

“Definitely,” Quinn said. She stopped herself. “I mean, for an older brother anyway.”

“Thanks,” I said, “That means a lot to me, actually.”

“What about me? Am I adorable?” Quinn asked, preening. “You know, for a younger sister?”

I looked at Quinn in her incredible elf costume. Adorable was not the word I would use to describe my little sister in that moment. More like fucking hot.

“You look good,” I said, trying to be diplomatic. But then I worried that my faint praise would only hurt Quinn’s feelings. Instead, my pretty brunette sister blushed right up to her pointy ears.

“Thanks,” she said, pulling nervously at her braid. I became very aware of the fact that my sister was still holding my hand. And that my tan trousers were not at all good at covering up an inappropriate, sibling-induced erection.

I quickly changed the subject.

“So, where to?” I asked.

“I suppose we should hunt down the rest of our party,” Quinn said.

Reflexively, I glanced down at my phone. I saw that Jacob had texted me.

“At a show,” he said. As if that was at all helpful.

“Which one?” I texted back. No response.

“Well, standing here won’t solve anything,” Quinn said. She closed her eyes and crinkled her nose. She looked quite cute doing it. “My heightened elven senses say… that way!”

Quinn giggled at herself, then dragged me off to the right, towards a row of little storefronts. They had the usual Faire wares — ‘magic’ crystals, hand-sewn costumes, and dragon puppets. Quinn ping-ponged from one shop to the other, completely entranced with everything and yet totally distracted by anything at the same time. She may have been dressed like an elf but keeping track of my sister felt more like trying to follow one of the Fae.

I looked idly at some objects, but mostly I just accompanied my sister. College life had given me many things, but money wasn’t one of them. My limited budget for this trip was reserved for beer and with that in mind, even a $10 necklace that promised eternal love seemed too dear.

“Thinking about trying to enchant a certain young lady?” Quinn asked, leaning over my shoulder. I hadn’t even felt her sneak up on me as I stared intently at that pink stone. I felt my face flush.

“I get that I’m a little infatuated,” I said, “But this isn’t some dumb high school crush, or whatever.”

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