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Being My Brother's Keeper, And His Best Friend

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By Camille Beredjick

The Tampa Tribune

Published: July 22, 2008

I was furious when I first met him.

Sure, I was barely 3 years old, so the majority of these memories stem from my parents' stories. But it makes sense; when they brought home a screaming, squirmy pink ball topped with the red curls I'd always dreamed of, I had every reason to be angry. The idea of sharing my parents with a creature they called my brother was unacceptable.

It's almost uncanny that we got off to such a bad start, my brother, Arthur, and me. Yellowed photographs show us posed together on my parents' bed, and the look in my eyes reveals not hatred for the 2-month-old sprawled in my lap, but love - albeit a condescending-big-sister sort of love.

And so, assuming my sisterly duty, I bossed Arthur around for years. I punched him and barked orders at him, and though he wasn't afraid to punch back once in a while, he rarely attempted to retaliate against my shallow commands.

As an extension of my moral obligations as his big sister, I also felt the need to protect my baby brother whenever I deemed it necessary. I yelled at the kids in tennis class who called him chunky, and I checked to make sure he was asleep every night before I settled in my own bed. Still, I didn't let my guard down, and continued posing as his bossy older sister.

Eventually he grew as tall as me, and though we'd spent the same number of years in karate classes, I was afraid to push him around anymore. Thus came a turning point in our relationship, both literally and figuratively: maturity.

I don't remember exactly when Arthur stopped being my kid brother and became my best friend. But as we inched toward teenage-hood together, we suddenly had more in common than ever before. Spending hours online chatting with our friends was a ritual that our parents couldn't fathom. Mutual frustration with our grandparents' illnesses gave us a connection no one else could understand.

He towers over me at 6'2 and charms my girlfriends with his blue eyes, tells puzzling jokes that only we laugh at, and stays up late with me for all-night marathons of Canadian sitcoms.

He's the big brother I always wanted, plus the little brother I've always had.

My baby brother is turning 15 today. He'll be getting his learner's permit after he reads this, then we'll spend the day at theater camp where he has been cast in the role of Prince Charming in Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Cinderella." I'll be starting the process of filling out college applications this week, preparing to choose the place that will steal me from my brother in just a year.

He's mad at me for that. But I'm not worried: We've come too far to give up now.

Camille Beredjick is a student at Chamberlain High School.

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