“Win-Win, wait up!”
Oh how Winifred hated that nickname. She rolled her eyes and trudged on ever more deliberately, silently cursing her parents for the childish nickname that was still haunting her, even in adolescence. She didn’t mind Winnie, she didn’t even mind Fred, but Win-Win grated her nerves into parmesan, especially when squealed from the lips of her eight year old little sister, Chloe.
“Win-Wiiin!”
Chloe dragged out the second “Win” long enough to make Winifred flinch. She stopped, mid-step, giving in if only to stop her sister from repeating the name again. Chloe was panting when she reached her, and Winifred folded her arms crossly.
“Would you stop calling me that?” Winifred glowered at her sister, trying to penetrate her thick skull with the laser vision she didn’t possess.
“But that’s your name.”
“No, Chloe, it’s not. My name’s Winifred. Not Win-Win. I hate that name.”
“But Daddy always calls you that.”
Winifred started walking again, ignoring the remark. She was wishing she had laser vision, or at least some duct tape, so she could seal those obnoxious little lips shut for the rest of the walk home. It was like this everyday. Winifred would get out of school, walk to the elementary school and wait for her sister, and then they’d walk home together. Usually she didn’t mind too much, but on days like today, when her friends were all at the arcade without her due to her sisterly obligations – no – requirements, it was almost too much for her handle. And then that nickname to top it off! Winifred clenched her fists tight enough to make fingernail dents in her palm.
“You’re walking too fast again,” Chloe whined.
“Then maybe you should jog. It’s good for you.”
