It was sort of like this, but my sister had never slept with him, nor was she in love with him. She just didn't want to share him.

On Wednesdays, Amanda Chatel will be sharing stories about her strange, fascinating and sometimes wonderful dating life. If it makes you want to date, check out TheGloss dating page. 

My sister has always been one of those girls who’s constantly surrounded by fellas. Even before she got braces and was a bit wonky looking back in fifth grade, the boys were just drawn to her. She always had guy friends who were either in love with her, used to be in love with her or would eventually be in love with her. I guess you could say she got both the looks and personality in the family. I got something, I just don’t know what the name is for it yet.

Up until she got married a couple years ago, my sister still had an entire rotation of male friends vying for her attention. But for reasons we could never understand, she did have one close male friend who didn’t want her in a sexual way at all. No; this one wanted me, and actually went out of his way to pursue me completely against my sister’s wishes. I, on the other hand, despite finding “S” attractive and fun, decided to be a “good” sister and stay away from him. I was only going to be in Colorado for a few months and didn’t see the point in getting involved with anything. It would have been one thing if he wanted a fling, but again for reasons we could never understand, he wanted to date me, be with me, runaway with me (yes, he would eventually say this to me), and father my children (no, he never said this; that part was a bit of “literary license.”) The point is, the weirdo was into me and had made the choice to do what it took to get me in his clutches!

The problem was living at my sister’s place temporarily and hanging out with her friends led to more and more contact with S, and eventually my attempts to stave him off came crashing down one night. It’s true that maybe I should not have agreed to get a drink with him while we waited for my sister and a few friends to meet up with us, but I was bored and sometimes one doesn’t want to get a drink alone. After that night, we started secretly spending time together.

Admittedly, it was exciting. It was like having an affair but without all the major guilt that comes with seeing someone who’s married. I felt a bit bad for deceiving my sister because I tell her everything, but the fact that it was a secret, my secret, made up for it. It was also sort of amazing that my sister actually thought for a spell that I was spending that much time with our friend Haley who’s a self-proclaimed psychic and “spiritual leader.” We love her, but more than once every couple weeks is pushing it. And according to my lie, I was going out with Haley three times a week or so.

After just few weeks, things got really intense on his end and I realized I was in something for which I wasn’t ready. My plan was to break it off because, after all, I was going back to NYC at some point. I wasn’t about to fall in love and build a life in Boulder. As I’ve written before, a place without a 24-hour delivery of such essentials like beer, condoms, coffee and the NY Times is not a place for me. I also didn’t want to jeopardize my relationship with my sister because of some guy. I was proud of my decision. I considered myself almost mature — but then my sister found out.

Again, I blame myself for this. It was the night I was supposed to end things with S that I lost the nerve and instead ended up having a pretty heavy duty make-out session in his car a block from my sister’s place. My sister, unbeknownst to me, had gone out with her friends after work, and was walking back to her place when she recognized S’s car. She also noticed that someone was in the car so she knocked on the window. At this point, we could pull this moment from an episode of Friends or any other TV show or movie where one sibling is overcome by the complete horror of what the other sibling is doing. Although we weren’t having sex, we may as well have been considering the reaction and fit that followed.

I looked over S’s shoulder to see who was there and immediately gasped “oh, shit,” as my sister, screamed bloody murder on the other side of the window. We both jumped out of the car to confront her. While I tried to make it better by saying it was a one time thing, S was trying to tell my sister that he was falling in love all while my sister kept yelling at him to stay away from me. There was so much yelling and confusion — there was also another mutual friend who was with my sister who was also freaking out at S — that a neighbor called the cops because she feared someone was being attacked. When the cops arrived we had to explain to the officers that no one was being attacked and that we were having a debate that got out of control.

My sister, who is far less dramatic than me and is the “logical and level-headed one,” had indulged in a couple margaritas at The Rio which resulted in her waving her arms around screaming and asking the cops if they could arrest S for being deceitful. It wasn’t so much what I had done but what he had done because he did have a bit of reputation as a heartbreaker and my sister was trying to protect me from that; and, as she would admit later, she didn’t want to share him. By this point, I was sitting on the curb fully aware that this was the end and almost grateful that I didn’t have to do it myself. My sister and S were still in a battle of words where they drudged up things completely unrelated, and I actually feared she just might kill him with her bare hands despite the minor inconvenience that he was 6’3″ and she was 5’3″.

When the cops left, S got in his car and my sister and our other friend grabbed my arms and pulled me inside where I got a very long lecture. Keep in my mind, my sister is 16 months younger than me. She didn’t talk to me for almost a week and her friendship with S ended that night. Via text I explained to him that he and I were kaput and that was that.

S eventually moved back east and last we heard he was smuggling drugs in and out of Florida. I guess one can say I dodged a bullet right there. I don’t want to have the babies of a drug smuggler. It may make a great story but is bound to end badly. My sister, of course, takes credit for this. She is the “logical” one and apparently, I should be listening to her on all matters of the heart. Obviously, I never dared to date any of her friends again. Pissing off a Chatel girl is never in anyone’s best interest.