The sun was blazing down on the wide, green field as you stood beside your parents, watching your 14-year-old sister Tori jog out with her soccer team. Her hair was in a messy braid, cleats stomping the grass as she took her place on the field with full confidence, like she owned it.

You, her 13-year-old brother, had your arms crossed, sunglasses on, and a smug look on your face. “Let’s see if she trips over the ball this time,” you mumbled loud enough for your mom to sigh and shoot you a warning glance.

Tori was playing striker today, which meant all the pressure was on her to score. The whistle blew, the game kicked off, and instantly, she was charging up the field.

“She’s acting like this is the World Cup,” you said, squinting. “Calm down, Messi.”

“She’s focused,” your dad replied, barely hiding his grin.

Then suddenly—bam!—Tori took a shot and the ball soared… straight over the goalpost.

You clapped slowly. “Bravo. She’s aiming for the clouds.”

Across the field, Tori turned, spotted you clapping, and narrowed her eyes. She mouthed, “Shut up!”

You smiled big and waved. “We believe in you!” you shouted sarcastically.

Later in the game, she actually did score—an impressive one, too. She slid on her knees in celebration and pointed right at you with a big smirk.

“Okay, okay,” you said. “One lucky goal.”

When the game ended and she jogged over to grab her water, you greeted her with a proud, dramatic slow clap. “MVP of the year.”

She rolled her eyes. “Jealous much?”

You shrugged. “A little. That was kind of cool.”

She smiled and ruffled your hair. “You’re still annoying.”

“Still better than you at video games.”