Why Envy is a Sin
by MBP (MWFAN318@aol.com)
Diane’s envy causes trouble for her and her boyfriend.

Diane fumed as she watched Greer flirt with Mitch.  At least Diane considered it flirting, 
as the 16-year-old observed her boyfriend laughing at a quiet comment from Diane’s 
younger sister.

Diane could not help it.  She was simply envious of Greer.  The jealously wasn’t 
physical, although it might be in the future.  A few months shy of her thirteenth birthday, 
Greer was very pretty, but was flat-chested and boyish, the epitome of a pre-adolescent 
girl.

The problem was that Greer was good at everything.  Everyone liked her.  She got top 
grades at school.  She was a surprisingly good athlete.  Greer was a talented young lady, 
and Diane, who was no slouch herself, often felt invisible when in Greer’s company.  
This feeling was certainly not validated by Mitch, who adored Diane.  She was 5’3 and 
curvy, with shapely, large breasts.  Mitch did not think there was a more beautiful female 
on the planet, and considered himself a lucky boy.

But Mitch was also a non-observant young man.  He thought that by playing with Greer, 
he would score points with his girlfriend.  Greer was fun anyway; this just made the 
attention easier.  But there was no way Mitch would have hurt Diane if he knew how she 
felt.  So it shocked him to hear Diane’s angry voice.

“All right!  That’s enough!  This has gone too far.  Stop flirting with my boyfriend, you 
little bitch!”

Mitch was taken aback but Greer allowed herself a small smile.  She knew Diane was 
envious of her.  Most people thought Greer was sweet, but she had a mean streak where 
Diane was concerned.  Greer knew her flirting would cause Diane grief so Greer decided 
to hammer the nail in a little deeper.

“Maybe Mitch has more fun with me,” Greer said sweetly.  “Maybe I should ask him to 
go out with me.  He’d probably prefer it.”

Diane replied, “You’ll go out with him over my dead body.”

Greer giggled teasingly.  “That can be arranged.  C’mon Mitch,” Greer said, taking the 
17-year-old by the hand.  “Let’s ditch the witch.”  Diane could only turn three shades of 
red.

Bewildered, Mitch pulled his hand from Greer’s grip.  “What’s going on here?” he asked, 
but managed to recover his composure long enough to get between the siblings, as Diane 
had belligerently approached her little sister.  “Stop this,” Mitch said to Greer, his back to 
Diane.  “I don’t want to go out with you.”

“Why don’t we arm-wrestle for him,” suggested Greer coyly as she snuggled up to Mitch 
again.  “Winner gets to date him.”

Diane didn’t immediately accept the challenge.  She stood there uncomfortably, as Mitch 
turned back to her.

“What are you waiting for?” said her boyfriend.  “Arm-wrestle her.  She’s just a little kid.  
Put her in her place.”

Diane didn’t know what to do.  She was scared.  Maybe her sister could beat her?  Diane 
saw Greer’s mocking stare and heard Mitch’s pleading tone.  “OK,” Diane said 
hesitantly.  Let’s arm-wrestle.”

The threesome ventured to the coffee table, Diane and Greer sitting on the floor on 
opposite sides as Mitch moved to referee.  The girls clasped hands.  Mitch ensnared the 
clasped hands with his own and then let go, starting the match.  

Mitch expected Diane to win easily.  She was more than 3 years older, and Mitch had 
always thought she was pretty strong.  Greer was about 3 inches shorter and skinny; 
probably at least 35 pounds lighter.  But the match was not going as he expected.  Greer 
had taken the advantage off the jump and was easily holding it.  The older girl was 
pulling hard but making no progress.  Greer was smiling and didn’t seem to be straining.  
The opposite was true of Diane.

Mitch began screaming for his girlfriend.  Diane responded by finally moving Greer’s 
slim arm back to even and then down.  Mitch felt better.  Diane was going to win.  As 
that thought came to him, Diane’s arm stopped moving down.  Looking at the 12-year-
old, Mitch finally realized that Greer was actually playing with her big sister!  The 
realization was a splash of cold water.  Mitch looked back at his girlfriend and saw the 
redness in her face as she gave it her all.  And then he saw the terror in Diane’s lovely 
eyes as Greer smoothly pulled Diane’s arm past vertical and swiftly banged it against the 
table.  Diane had lost.

Watching Diane lose had a more profound affect on Mitch than on Diane herself.  She 
had always felt outclassed by her little sister and had, therefore, prepared herself 
somewhat for the outcome.  Mitch, on the other hand, could scarcely believe that a 
skinny, preteen girl had beaten his girlfriend.  He stared at the smiling Greer in awe as 
silence pervaded the room.  

Greer broke the silence, “Where are you taking me, Mitch,” she asked, glancing over at 
Diane who had her head burrowed into the table.  “What are we going to do on our 
date?”

Mitch knew he had to say something to Greer.  “I’m not going out with you.  Just because 
you made this deal with Diane doesn’t mean I have to adhere to it.  I’m crazy about your 
sister.  Just leave us alone.”

“But you knew we were arm-wrestling for you,” protested Greer.  “You’re welching out 
of our bet.”

“I am not,” Mitch said.  “I’m my own person, and I’ll go out with whomever I choose.”

Greer replied, “How about arm-wrestling me?  If  I win, you’ll go out with me.  If you 
win, I won’t bother you.”

“That’s ridiculous.  There’s no way I’m going to arm-wrestle a little girl.”

“You’re chicken.  You’re afraid I’ll beat you too.  Some big man, scared of a girl.”

As usual, that particular barb had its desired effect.  “OK.  Let’s get it over with,” Mitch 
said wearily as he moved over to where Diane still sat.  “Honey, please move over so I 
can put this little bitch in her place.”  Diane didn’t look up, but made room for Mitch to 
position himself.  He put up his arm as did Greer, but her arm was too short.  She got up 
and fetched a book, positioning it under her elbow, bringing their hands level.  

“Diane, could you start us,” Mitch asked.  Getting interested in the match between Greer 
and her boyfriend, Diane was recovering from her defeat.  She clasped their hands and 
released them, and the big boy and little girl started to arm-wrestle. 

The arm-wrestle was 10 seconds old and Mitch hadn’t won yet.  It was impossible, but it 
was happening.  He had a big advantage with the arms close to the table, could see Greer 
straining hard, but had not been able to put her down.  Greer’s will to win was amazing.  
Mitch had 5 years and 90 pounds on the slim 12-year-old, not to mention a lot of muscle, 
but Greer refused to lose.  The boy pulled hard as he could see out of the corner of his 
eye Diane watching, fascinated.  Mitch was already embarrassed that it was taking so 
long.  Diane wasn’t rooting.  She was just amazed that the 80-pound girl was a match for 
her boyfriend.  The surprising match continued.

Twenty seconds later, Greer had succeeded in moving Mitch’s hand up a bit.  He still had 
the advantage, but he had less leverage now than when he was winning bigger.  Greer 
really didn’t believe at the beginning of the match that she had a chance.  But now she 
could feel Mitch’s arm beginning to tire just a little, and the pressure he was exerting had 
eased.  It’s sometimes easier to hold than to push; Greer was learning this now.  

In her spectator’s role, Diane was starting to enjoy herself.  She hated her little sister, but 
was impressed with her ability.  And having lost, Diane was secretly rooting for Mitch to 
lose also.  He had pushed Diane into the first match and now it was his turn to suffer.  
Such is human nature.  Diane could see the momentum shifting, and was starting to 
believe Greer was going to win.

The clocked ticked on.  Mitch had made a couple of desperate surges, but Greer had held 
him at bay.  She tried one of her own, more successfully, and by the time it ended, Greer 
held a slight advantage.  Unbelieving, Mitch looked at Greer.  The 12-year-old was 
smiling, sweaty, her pretty face flushed with the excitement of the effort.  He could 
sense, more than see, her slight, small body, clad in a tee shirt and shorts, her bare legs 
anchored to the carpet, and it drove him nuts.  How the hell could he be losing to a little 
girl?  The craziness fueled his rage, and Mitch surged one more time, putting all of his 
available energy behind it.

And it worked.  Almost.  He had surprised Greer with the move, and she nearly touched 
the table with the back of her hand.  But she held on, just, and after withstanding the 
pressure, found it simple to move the boy’s arm back to level.  Everyone came to the 
stark realization that the match was over.  Mitch had no more energy; even Diane would 
have beaten him easily now.  Greer gazed triumphantly at the older boy.  With almost no 
resistance now, she moved his arm up and down at her leisure.

Diane could no longer watch.  Her humiliation paled in comparison to that of Mitch, and 
she left the room to spare his feelings.  Mitch took her leaving differently, thinking it was 
out of revulsion and shame, because that was how he felt.  Greer moved his arm down 
one last time, pausing exquisitely before the final moment.

“You just lost a test of strength to a 6th grade girl,” she simply said, and put Mitch to the 
table.  She stood up abruptly, spun around, and left the room.


Epilog

Greer returned 15 minutes later, and Mitch had still not moved.  All of the energy in his 
body had ebbed, partially from the effort, and partly from the humiliation.  For the first 5 
minutes, Mitch had physically been unable to do anything.  He felt paralyzed.  At that 
point, he had started regaining his strength, but the incredible emotion was even more 
paralytic.  Seeing Greer actually helped him feel better, for some insane reason.  He rose 
to his full height of 5’10, looking down hesitantly at his tiny conqueror.  

“I, uh,” he stammered.  “I guess I have to go out with you.”  He was going to say 
something else, but couldn’t get it out.

Greer moved close to Mitch and pulled his head down to hers and kissed him softly on 
the lips.  “Sorry, Mitch,  I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t date guys who aren’t as 
strong as me.”  Greer spun around again to leave, and Mitch, shell-shocked, watched the 
tiny figure as it left.  

Diane came in presently to console her boyfriend.