"Charlie, you can look after Deena, right?"

That first time he didnąt want to; little kids annoyed him. They were there to make fun of, and to feel superior to, if you believed the guys in the schoolyard. If heąd had his way, he wouldąve been outside with his friends, probably playing some ball. It was a hot, stuffy afternoon, and he had much better things to do than look after his little sister.

"Okay, mom."

The problem, obviously, was that he had recently realised that if he didnąt look after Deena, nobody else would. His mom was always busy. He was proud of her, of course; she worked harder than any other mom he knew, and made sure the family had enough, which not all families did. But all the working to make sure the Youngs could go to school with their heads held high meant somebody got stuck watching Deena, and the somebody was pretty much always him.

"You make sure Deenaąs in bed in an hour, okay?"

"Okay."

He did, too. Charlie knew he wasnąt the quickest with a ball, and he was only usually top of his grade, but being the responsible one was something he seemed to be naturally good at. He didnąt forget to turn off the stove after making a snack or anything stupid like that. Heąd been mortified when his mom came home early to find him still reading a bedtime story, an hour after Deena was supposed to be in bed. Heąd made very sure that wouldnąt happen again.

"You can bake cookies or something, if you need something to do, yeah?"

Gradually, as Deena grew up, Charlie began to realise that he actually liked looking after her. She needed it less and less, but his mom never stopped asking him and he never stopped doing it.

"Charlie, you can look after Deena, right?"

That would be the last thing sheąd ever say to him. Charlie hadnąt known that at the time, of course, but later heąd wonder whether there wasnąt something subtly different in the intonation that last time, something that showed how much more significance those words would take on. He supposed that really it shouldnąt matter; he knew the promise heąd made, even if it hadnąt always been in words. That should be enough.

College was out now, for a while at least. Heąd been working to save up for it, but he had more important things to do with that money now. He didnąt mind, exactly, since he figured heąd get there in time. It would just take a little longer, was all, once his family (which now, he realised, just meant Deena) was OK.

But he did notice that sometimes, when she was complaining about the school work she had to do, Deena would often stop mid-rant, then give him this look before dissolving into silence. It was kind of irritating, really, but it didnąt matter, not in the scheme of things. It was worth it.