When my boyfriend found out I wasn't going to grad school, he was so furious he slapped me. "Is it because I told your sister to apply to the same program as us?" I didn't say anything, which he took as a yes. He laughed, a bitter, angry sound. "Fine. Just fine. I'm trying to help you two mend fences, and you're throwing away your future out of spite!" "From now on, don't you come crawling back to me!" I watched him storm out, a small, secret smile on my lips. He had no idea. I had been accepted into a top-secret, highly classified Ph.D. program in aerospace engineering. The one that builds missiles for the government. It was an eight-year, fully immersive, off-the-grid commitment. I was leaving in ten days. And he was right. I was never coming back. * 1 "Why do you have to be so stubborn? She's your sister!" Outside, the sky was a canvas of bruised, angry clouds. Inside, Mark's face was a mirror of the storm, all impatience and frustration. "Let's break up," I said again, my voice flat. He just arched an eyebrow. "Chloe, do you really think you can threaten me like this?" I was taken aback. "I'm not trying to threaten—" "Enough," he cut me off. "I don't have time for your games. You need to cool down and think about this. I'm doing this for both of you. Ashley understands what I'm trying to do. Why can't you?" A wave of exhaustion washed over me. "Whatever you say. But as of today, we're done." I turned to leave. We were in the library, and our argument was already drawing annoyed looks from the other students. But of course, that's when Ashley appeared. She was holding a stack of books, and she looked at Mark with a wide, innocent smile. "Mark, I'm getting ready for my program interview, and there are a few things I'm not sure about. I was hoping you could help me." I let out a short, humorless laugh and started to walk away. But Ashley's hand shot out and grabbed my arm. "Little sister, you're not still fighting with Mark because of me, are you?" Her face was a perfect picture of concerned helplessness. "You're a grown-up now, Chloe. You should be more mature. We're sisters. We're family." The word "sisters" was a lit match to the gasoline of my anger. "Sisters? I have no intention of being sisters with the daughter of a homewrecker." Ashley's face went white. "How could you say that? Even if you don't like me, Mark is your boyfriend. He's trying so hard to fix things between us. You should at least appreciate his efforts." Mark shot her a look of pure, unadulterated gratitude. "Ashley, don't waste your breath on her. She's always been selfish. The only person she cares about is herself." I laughed. "Oh, I'm so selfish. So selfish that when I was in the hospital with a heart condition, I actually hoped my boyfriend would come visit me instead of going on a trip with another woman. So selfish that when my boyfriend drained my bank account, I actually hoped he'd leave me enough money for food instead of spending it all on gifts for someone else. And so selfish that when I decided to go to grad school, I actually wanted to go to a good school, in a field I was passionate about, instead of listening to my boyfriend and applying to a worse school in a completely unrelated major. I'm just the worst." Mark froze. He frowned. "Those are all minor things. Why are you so hung up on the past? Ashley is your family too. As your boyfriend, it's my job to care about your family." I stared at him, my voice a low, dangerous growl. "I will never, ever, consider the bastard child of the woman who killed my mother 'family.'" "Okay, okay, it's all my fault," Ashley said, her voice full of a tragic, self-sacrificing drama. "I'll stay away from you two from now on. Don't let me ruin your relationship." She turned and walked away, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Mark's face was a mask of fury. "Look what you've done! I'm telling you, Chloe, after what you just said, you could get on your knees and beg, and I would never take you back." He turned and ran after her. I just stood there and laughed. Take me back? Don't worry, Mark. I'm never coming back. 2 I went back to my dorm and packed my books. A few minutes later, a picture from Ashley appeared in the family group chat. In the photo, she and Mark were sitting close together, their heads touching as they looked at the same book. The caption read: "Every single second I get to study with you is a treasure." My relatives, who had no idea what was going on, started commenting. "Is this Ashley's new boyfriend? He's so handsome!" "They make a beautiful couple!" "Ashley is just like her mother. So charming. All the boys must be in love with her." That last comment seemed to cast a spell. The chat went silent. A few minutes later, another message from Ashley appeared. "Oops, wrong chat! My bad. I can't delete it now, so just pretend you didn't see it. Mark and I are just friends." I fought the urge to leave the group chat and just turned my phone off. But the screen lit up again. It was a message from Mark. *If you really don't want to go into Ashley's field, you can just apply again next year. To whatever you want.* I just laughed and blocked his number. I was exhausted. All I wanted was to sleep. But of course, that wasn't going to happen. It was the end of the semester, and everyone was going their separate ways. It was a never-ending parade of goodbye dinners and parties. Tonight was the last meeting of the kickboxing club. 3 When I walked into the private room at the restaurant, it was already packed. The air was thick with the smell of beer and loud chatter. I found a quiet corner and sat down, partially hidden by a large plant. No one noticed me. And no one noticed that I could clearly hear the conversation from the booth next to ours. It was Mark. He sighed dramatically. "I really tried my best." "When I found out she didn't get into any grad programs, I was so worried. I even texted her and told her to try again next year. And she just blocked me." A few sympathetic sighs from his audience. A girl's voice piped up. "Mark, you're just too nice. She doesn't deserve you. She's the one who didn't try hard enough, and she's taking it out on you. So ungrateful." Mark's voice dropped even lower. "Maybe it was the way I said it. But still, I was just trying to help her. I was trying to mend her relationship with her family, to plan for her future. And she just threw it all back in my face." I squeezed my glass, my knuckles turning white. I should have known this was a bad idea. I stood up, ready to say a quick goodbye and get out of there. But as I took a step, someone stumbled into me. It was Ashley. She was holding an empty wine glass, a look of fake surprise on her face. "Oh, little sister! You're here!" she said, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. The wine from her glass had soaked the front of my white dress. She looked at the stain, then laughed. "Oops, sorry. I didn't see you. But I'm sure you don't mind, right? You bought this dress for your grad school interviews, and since you didn't get in… it's not like you'll need it anymore. When you finally do get in, I'll buy you a new one." A few people snickered. I looked down at the spreading stain. "I do mind," I said, my voice as cold as ice. "This dress was six hundred dollars. Cash or Venmo?" The smile on Ashley's face froze. "We're sisters. You don't have to be so petty, do you?" She put on that familiar, cloying smile. "I'll buy you a new one. Next time Mark and I go shopping." I knew she never would. It was her signature move. Ever since she'd moved in with my dad, she'd "accidentally" broken countless things of mine, always promising to replace them. But when I'd ask, she'd just raise her voice. "Are you still hung up on that? You're so petty. You're just like your mother. And you know what happens to petty people like her? They die young." Her words still echoed in my ears. I pulled out my phone and opened my Venmo app. "Now. Six hundred dollars." Ashley's face finally crumbled. "Do you have to be like this? It's just a dress…" Just then, Mark appeared, stepping between us. He looked at me with a profound disappointment. "Do you really have to make a scene? Ashley said she'd replace it. Why are you being so aggressive? And besides, your mother left you plenty of money. Why are you so obsessed with Ashley?! Chloe, don't take it too far." He frowned, his face a mask of righteous indignation. The same expression I had once found so charming. Now, it just made me sick. I looked at the two of them, standing side by side. "So, she 'accidentally' bumps into me and ruins my dress, and I'm the one who's supposed to just take it?" Mark faltered. "That's not what I'm saying… but can't you just be the bigger person?" Behind him, Ashley was smiling a triumphant little smile. 4 Suddenly, Matt, the president of the kickboxing club, was at my side, his hand on my shoulder. "Hey, we're all friends here. Let's not fight over something so silly." He turned to Ashley. "Ashley, you did ruin her dress. You should pay for it." Then he gave me a look. "Chloe, just calm down." Ashley reluctantly took out her phone and scanned my Venmo code. "Six hundred dollars. Sent. Are you happy now?" she said, her voice full of a sullen resentment. I looked at the notification on my phone, then at Mark's disapproving face. I felt no satisfaction at all. How had we ended up here? He used to be so different. He used to love me. He used to put me first. My sophomore year, he'd spent a whole day driving all over the city just to find a signed copy of my favorite author's book. He'd said my eyes lit up when I read, and he wanted to protect that light. He hated ballet, but because my mother had been a dancer, he'd sat through countless performances with me, just to help me feel close to her. We had made so many plans, so many promises. And then… he met Ashley. The signed book was "accidentally" ruined by a spilled glass of water. Mark had stopped me from getting angry. "She didn't mean to. Don't make a big deal out of it." For our group project, he'd added Ashley to our team without even asking me. She'd changed my data, and we were disqualified. Half a year of my work, gone. Mark just told me to be more understanding. "She was just trying to help. She had good intentions." He'd promised to go to a ballet with me, but then Ashley called, saying she had a stomach ache, and he'd rushed to the hospital, leaving me waiting in the rain for three hours. Later, I saw them outside the hospital, arm in arm, laughing and eating ice cream. When he saw me, he'd just frowned. "Are you following me? Ashley wasn't feeling well. Can't you be more considerate? You can watch a hundred ballets, it's not going to bring your mother back to life. What's the point of watching all that depressing stuff anyway?" The memories flashed through my mind, each one a fresh wave of ice in my veins. I turned and walked out of the restaurant without another word. Mark called after me. I didn't turn back. And he didn't follow.
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