24 August 2014

Sex tape scandals

Having lived apart for so long, my brother and I sometimes feel we don't know each other the way we used to. It's depressing until we realize how much easier mind games have become.

One night we're waiting at the tram stop with two of my friends after a game of laser tag, and I'm chatting with my chick-friend M. while my brother play-flirts with my guy-friend V. At one point, V. suddenly grins and asks him, "Have you seen your sister's sex tape?"

For a moment, I'm taken aback. My brother's jaw drops. Then I relax. "Oh, I didn't tell you about that?" I ask nonchalantly.

"You made a sex tape?" demands my brother, blanching. "With who?"

I shrug casually. "You know, that Swedish guy I was dating a while back. We wanted to experiment."

M. suddenly gets the gist of what's causing my brother to hyperventilate. "You made a sex tape?" she says with a smile. "That sounds fun! You never told me!"

I miss a beat as I realize that she doesn't know I'm joking. But if there's one thing my father taught me, it's not to let feelings ruin a perfectly good prank.

My brother stares down at his lap, shaking his head and seething. "What the fuck."

"It's what couples do in France," says V. "You should watch it. Your sister was amazing," he adds kindly (as I quickly inform M. in French that I do not, in fact, have a sex tape floating around).

"She's my sister!" shouts my brother, looking up at him in disgust. "We're American!"

At this point, the tram has arrived, so we make our way inside. My friends and I stand around my brother as he takes a seat, his prude knees apparently too weak to stand.

"It's a joke," says V., though his accent is too French for my brother's American ears to understand.

"What?" he says, having heard something along the lines of "jock."

"We're not serious," I tell him with a little nudge that causes him to recoil. "I don't have a sex tape."

My brother gapes up at the three of us. Then he looks away. "I hate you."