Designer clothes, but no princess attitude. Buzz
cut, sharp eyes, intimidating. Everyone was
scared of her. Not me. I admired her drive, her
discipline. While others coasted on family
money, she burned the midnight oil. Straight
A’s. Stanford–bound.
“Valerie, please, just one more problem.
Please?”
She was about to lose it. Grabbed her water
bottle, hoping to escape. Froze.
It was full. Room temperature water.
“You…?”
I nodded.
“Payment. For your help.”
I took over her chores, the whole dorm’s
chores. Even washed her socks. After the
mountains, this was nothing. She was
embarrassed. Finally agreed to ten minutes a
day. Questions, notes, no touching her stuff.
Deal. I got tutoring, she got free labor. Win–win. But those ten minutes were gold. I’d come
prepared. Questions organized, color–coded.
<
Red for concepts, yellow for steps, black for
basic knowledge gaps.
“You…”
“I really want to learn. See? My books are all
intact.” No more ripped pages, casualties of
Sarah’s “episodes.”
She stared, then looked away.
“If you’re serious, I’ll help. But your foundation
is weak. Focus on the basics first.”
“Okay!”
She’d been ready to dismiss me. But my
eagerness, my desperation, disarmed her. A
mentor was better than a textbook. I followed
her lead. She drilled vocabulary, I memorized
the dictionary. She tackled calculus, I attempted
algebra. She aced advanced math, I passed
basic math. Not enough. So I studied while she
slept. Listened to podcasts while she stared at
the sky. Reviewed notes while she fought with
her family on the phone.
- 13.
“Just cry. No one’s here.”
She smirked, a bitter twist to her lips.
く
“Why should I cry?”
“They’re blind. They’re the ones who should be
crying. Apologizing.”
Even heiresses felt the sting of being unloved,
overshadowed by a golden boy.
“They were afraid Grandpa would leave me the
company. So when he was dying, begging to
see me, they locked me in the house. Until he
was gone.”
“Their precious son got everything. I lost the
person I loved most.”
“I’ll never forgive them.”
Love, twisted, deadly. The jagged scar on her
thigh, a car accident.
“I was in agony. They said ‘sorry‘ to him, and
that was it. I wasn’t even allowed to be angry.
Because no one had my back.”
“Ashley, live. Fight. Even a lonely tree can
create its own shade.”
I nodded, fierce determination burning in my
chest. My scores jumped twelve places. No
longer dead last. She leaned back, grinned,
gave me a thumbs–up. The March sun
<
streamed through the window, illuminating her
sharp features. A blade unsheathed. Our
shared, fierce youth. But it wasn’t enough. I
needed college. Escape. I had to follow her
footsteps, conquer every obstacle.
Then Sarah’s homeroom teacher showed up.
- 14.
Worried. Asking about Sarah. She’d been
missing for a week. I knew. She was playing
house with Jake. I’d even seen her on the back
of his motorcycle, cigarette dangling from her
lips, a defiant smirk on her face. She’d sneered
at me, mocking my boring, predictable life. But
that night, I’d passed my first math test. I was
buzzing, a feeling she’d never understand.
I feigned ignorance.
“I’ve been living here for a month. Haven’t been
home.” I lifted my arm, showing the frayed cuff
of my sweatshirt. The teacher backed off.
Called my parents. They mumbled something about Sarah’s “health” being paramount. They were scrambling for Sarah’s “therapy” money.
Sarah and Jake’s little love nest was common
