The deadline clock had twenty-eight minutes left when I realized my family had spent the entire evening planning Madison’s future and had forgotten I was applying to college too.
Chapter 1
My older brother, Tyler, tapped the Crestview University brochure spread across our dining table. “This is obvious, Maddie. Apply here. I’m already a junior at Crestview, so you’ll have me on campus if you need anything.” Brandon Carter, our childhood friend, immediately leaned across the table and pushed another brochure toward her.
“Or Kingston,” Brandon said. “It’s still in Arlington, and it’s a great school.” Then Madison smiled at him, and his argument collapsed almost instantly. “Actually, if you choose Crestview, I can apply there too. What’s important is that we’re together.”
Mom beamed as though he had just made a marriage proposal. Dad nodded approvingly and said having everyone in Arlington would give them peace of mind. I sat at the far end of the table with my laptop open, watching the countdown on the application portal.
No one asked what school I wanted.
That had been the arrangement since childhood. Madison was the princess in every game, Tyler was the knight who defended her, and Brandon was the prince who crossed imaginary kingdoms to rescue her. Somehow, despite being Madison’s twin, I always became the witch, the monster, or the inconvenient villager who had to be defeated before dinner.
Finally Mom looked at me. “Ashley, your score wasn’t as good as Madison’s, right? Just choose something nearby.”
Tyler barely glanced up. “Yeah. That way everybody stays in Arlington.”
I stared at the SAT score displayed on my screen.
1560.
Higher than Madison’s 1480. Higher than anything I had scored on practice tests. High enough to make Crestview and Kingston realistic possibilities.
Apparently nobody had bothered to ask.
Brandon checked the clock. “Ashley, don’t forget to submit because you’re sulking again. There are only twenty minutes left.”
Something inside me became very still.
“You always said Kingston was your dream school,” I told him. “You’re really giving it up?”
Brandon frowned as if I had asked why water was wet. “What’s the difference? Maddie wants Crestview.”
Three years earlier, Brandon and I had sat on the hood of his old Honda eating fries while he told me Kingston represented freedom. He had talked about its journalism program, the old brick library, and the professor whose work he admired. I had listened because, back then, he understood what it felt like to grow up beside a sibling whose brightness swallowed the room.
Then he met Madison.
After that, he still remembered to bring two drinks, two birthday presents, two concert tickets. He simply stopped remembering that the second person was me.
I moved my cursor away from the Arlington schools.
South Coast University appeared after I typed the name into the search bar. It was more than seven hundred miles away, down near the Carolina coast. I had researched it secretly for months because its psychology program was excellent and because the distance felt like oxygen.
Click.
Submit.
Confirm.
I closed my laptop.
For once, I had chosen something before anyone could choose it for me.
After applications were submitted, Dad announced that he and Mom had graduation rewards for us. Madison squealed when she checked her banking app.
“Twenty thousand dollars!”
She threw her arms around Mom.
“I knew you loved me.”
Mom laughed and kissed her forehead. “That’s your reward for working so hard and scoring 1480.”
Madison turned toward me. “How much did you get?”
I checked.
“Two hundred.”
Her eyes widened before she quickly rearranged her face into sympathy.
“Oh. Well, if you need anything, just tell me. Mom and Dad probably thought I’d manage the money better.”
Mom didn’t correct her.
Instead, she frowned at me. “College will be a wake-up call, Ashley. You can’t keep drifting along and expecting everyone to rescue you.”
I almost laughed.
No one had ever rescued me.
Tyler came downstairs carrying two boxes. He handed Madison a sleek white package and gave me a smaller gray one.
Inside mine was an inexpensive e-reader.
Madison opened hers and screamed.
“The new MacBook!”
Brandon whistled. “Tyler, that’s almost three grand. Didn’t you just spend your whole internship paycheck?”
Tyler ruffled Madison’s hair.
“So? She’s my little sister.”
I looked at him.
I was his little sister too, if only by seven minutes.
Years ago, I would have demanded an explanation. I had done that at nine when Tyler spent all his allowance on Madison’s birthday and gave me a handwritten coupon promising to “hang out sometime.” I had done it at twelve when Dad attended Madison’s recital but missed my academic awards dinner. I had done it at fifteen when Mom moved me into the storage room because Madison needed my bedroom for violin practice.
Every time, someone told me I was jealous.
So I stopped asking.
At dinner, Mom served barbecue ribs, honey-glazed chicken, sweet corn, and Madison’s favorite peach cobbler. I stared at the food.
“Could we make chili sometime?”
Mom’s fork stopped.
“Ashley, must everything become an issue?”
“I just asked.”
“Madison never complains about what I cook.”
Because every dish on the table was Madison’s favorite.
The answer formed in my mouth, then died there.
Later Brandon arrived carrying two mango smoothies.
He handed one to Madison and one to me.
“Drink before it melts.”
I stared at the yellow drink.
“Brandon.”
“What?”
“I’m allergic to mango.”
He blinked.
“And cold drinks upset my stomach.”
For a moment, something almost like memory crossed his face.
Three years earlier, he had watched my lips swell after I tried mango at a school picnic. He had ridden with me to urgent care and cried harder than I did.
Now he shrugged.
“Seriously? I thought you got over that.”
“You don’t get over food allergies.”
Tyler sighed dramatically. “Why do you always have to make things difficult?”
I placed the smoothie on the table.
That was when leaving stopped feeling like revenge.
It began to feel like survival.
The next morning, my family was driving to the Grand Regency Hotel to finalize Madison’s graduation party. When I came downstairs, Madison was in the front passenger seat because she got carsick. Mom and Tyler occupied the back, with Brandon squeezed between them holding Madison’s laptop bag.
I stood beside the open door.
“Where am I supposed to sit?”
Dad looked irritated. “Can’t you squeeze in?”
“There isn’t room.”
Mom sighed. “Take an Uber, Ashley. You’re eighteen.”
Dad pulled away before I had finished answering.
I stood on the curb breathing exhaust.
Then I went upstairs, made myself chili mac with so much hot sauce my eyes watered, and ate every bite.
By afternoon, I had begun packing.
That was when I opened the jar where I had kept eighteen years of birthday money, Christmas cash, babysitting earnings, and every twenty-dollar bill relatives had slipped into cards.
Thirty-two dollars remained.
The other $5,500 was gone.
I emptied drawers. Checked my closet. Looked beneath the bed.
Nothing.
Then Madison walked into my room wearing a gold bracelet.
She lifted her wrist proudly.
“Look what Mom bought me. Isn’t it gorgeous? It was $5,500.”
I stopped breathing.
Mom appeared behind her.
I looked from the bracelet to my empty jar.
“You took my money.”
Mom stiffened.
“What do you mean, your money?”
“My savings.”
“You live under our roof.”
“That doesn’t make my money yours.”
Her face hardened.
“You’ve eaten our food for eighteen years. We’ve paid for everything you needed.”
“You bought Madison jewelry with money I saved.”
Tyler came running when our voices rose.
Brandon followed.
I held up the empty jar.
“She stole fifty-five hundred dollars from me.”
Tyler grabbed my arm.
“Don’t call Mom a thief.”
“Taking money without permission is stealing.”
Brandon frowned. “Ashley, come on. This is family.”
“It was mine.”
“Maddie got into Crestview,” Tyler snapped. “Maybe you could try being happy for her for once.”
Madison’s eyes filled.
“Maybe we could pawn the bracelet.”
But she held her wrist protectively against her chest.
Mom stepped in front of her.
“Absolutely not. Ashley, go to your room until you can behave like an adult.”
“I am behaving like an adult. I’m asking for my property back.”
Tyler pushed me toward the hallway.
I struggled.
“Let go of me!”
He forced me inside my bedroom and locked the door from the outside.
I sat on the floor until my legs went numb.
Beyond the door, I heard them comforting Madison.
Nobody comforted me.
That evening, with thirty-two dollars left to my name and an acceptance decision still weeks away, I understood something that should have terrified me.
I had never been more certain that I needed to leave.
