Today was the day.
Hillary came home from camp.
I’ve been counting down for the last week, practically bouncing around the house like some kid on Christmas Eve. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited for her to come back. And trust me, it wasn’t because I missed her teasing or her endless stories about who did what at camp. Nope. This time? It was because I couldn’t wait to see her face when she realized I’m taller than her now.
And oh boy, it was worth the wait.
Dad and I drove to pick her up at the camp parking lot. He made me promise not to say anything about my height right away, to “just let it happen.” Easy for him to say—he’s not the one who’s been waiting years for this moment. But I played it cool. Or I tried to.
Hillary came running over to us, dragging her suitcase behind her and chattering a mile a minute. “Camp was so fun,” she said, “I made like ten new friends and guess what? I did the ropes course and I wasn’t even scared—” Classic Hillary, acting like nothing had changed.
And then she looked at me.
She froze for half a second, blinking. Her mouth sort of hung open, like she was trying to figure out if she was imagining things.
“Wait... what?” she said.
I smiled. Big. “Hey, Hil.”
She squinted at me. “No way.” Then she dropped her suitcase and marched right over, stopping nose to nose with me—except, not really nose to nose. More like nose to chin. On her side. She had to look up to meet my eyes. Up.
I swear I saw a flicker of panic in her face.
“Back-to-back,” she demanded.
Dad chuckled, but he didn’t argue. He grabbed the pencil from the dashboard (because yeah, he keeps one there for moments like these—don’t ask) and told us to stand still. We went back-to-back.
And guess what?
“Five feet,” Dad said, tapping the pencil against the doorframe. “Four foot ten.” Then he whistled. “Looks like Mollie’s the big sister now.”
I thought I was ready for it. For the moment. For Hillary’s reaction. But I wasn’t ready for how quiet she got. She didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, staring at the mark on the wall like it had betrayed her or something.
Then she turned around, arms crossed, and said, “Hmph. Whatever. I’ll probably grow soon, too.”
“Sure,” I said, trying (and failing) to hide my grin. “Any day now.”
She huffed and dragged her suitcase toward the stairs, mumbling under her breath. But I could tell it wasn’t mean. Not really. More like... confused. Maybe a little jealous. Maybe a lot.
And you know what? I didn’t feel bad.
For years, I was the little one. The short one. The sister who got teased for needing a step stool. But now? I’m five feet tall. I’ve outgrown Hillary. And for the first time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Later, when we were unpacking her stuff, she kind of bumped me with her elbow. “Don’t think this means I won’t still boss you around,” she said.
I just laughed. “You can try.”
And I think we both knew—everything’s different now.
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