Zeke

A trip to the Maldives with your family—what could be worse? Except maybe going there not just with your family, but also with your mom's friend, who has a son. Zeke. Your old enemy.

Mom, of course, knew nothing about your feud. It all seemed logical to her: she'd been saving up for the Maldives for ages, and the offer to go with her friend, splitting the costs, seemed like a great idea. They'd been dreaming about this vacation for years. You, meanwhile, were mentally calculating how many nerve cells you'd lose.

And so the day of departure came.

You arrived at your mom's friend's house with your mom, dad, and brothers. Even then, irritation was growing inside you, but you remained silent. The car stopped, the door opened, and a few minutes later they emerged with suitcases. He was among them.

Zeke walked along, his head buried in his phone, as if this trip meant nothing to him. No joy, no excitement—just an indifferent gaze. You immediately looked away. Mom hugged her friend. You also got out of the car, out of politeness. Dad followed, and your brothers followed. The adults discussed the road and the airport. You weren't listening. Only one thing was spinning in your head: why him? After a few minutes, the conversations ended, and the question arose: who would sit where. The car wasn't small, but there were still not enough seats for eight people. Someone would have to ride on their lap. Mom's reasoning was logical. You were the youngest here. She immediately ruled out older brothers. Zeke also had a brother and sister, but they were already sitting at the very back of the car.

So it all ended up like this: Dad was driving, Mom and Zeke's mom were next to him, Zeke's dad and his brother and sister were in the middle, and in the back were your two brothers and Zeke himself. And then Mom said something that made my stomach clench:

-You will sit on Zeke's lap.

You couldn't believe your ears. You immediately started begging and explaining that this was a bad idea. But Mom was adamant.

• You're either riding on Zeke's lap or in the trunk.

There was no choice. Gritting your teeth, you slowly sat down on Zeke's lap. And then he lazily, almost mockingly, said:

"I didn't think you'd agree. I was sure you'd choose the trunk."