Outgrowing My Small-Minded Family

Three days after the SAT scores were released, I came across a post asking for advice. [Both my older and younger sons are going to Northbridge for college. How should I split their living expenses so it's fair?] The comments were almost unanimous. [Why is this even a question? They're both your kids. Give them the same amount. That's the fairest way to do things.] I was about to scroll past when the newest top comment caught my eye. The profile picture belonged to my sister. [Don't judge when you don't know the whole story.] [I'm their older sister, so let me be honest. You can't raise two boys the same way.] [The older one is pretty average-looking, and he's awkward and quiet. Even if you gave him money, he wouldn't know what to spend it on. Meanwhile, the younger one is outgoing and handsome, with great style. One pair of his limited-edition shoes costs over $2,000.] [If you ask me, the older one should get $800, and the younger one should get $8,000. Each child should get the amount they need.] Beneath her comment was a reply from my childhood best friend, Whitney Jones. [Couldn't have said it better myself!] [Besides, we'll all be in Northbridge anyway. We can keep your younger brother company, so your mom won't have to worry about him back home.] Staring at the screen, I suddenly laughed until tears blurred my vision. When we were kids, we would play hide-and-seek. All of them would sneak off together, hand in hand, leaving me alone in the dark attic, covering my eyes and counting. Back then, I honestly believed that if I searched hard enough, I would eventually find them and become part of their little world. However, every time I opened my eyes, they had already slipped away with my younger brother, leaving to buy ice cream without me. It turned out nothing had changed since then. They were still walking side by side toward the bright lights of Northbridge, while I remained nothing more than an afterthought, someone brought along just for the sake of the picture. I deleted every university in Northbridge from my list and replaced them with schools in the far south, more than a thousand miles from home. I was done playing the loyal supporting character in someone else's fairy tale. Their game could go on without me. Chapter 1 "Henry, come out and have some fruit." A knock on my door pulled me back to reality. Mom stood in the doorway, smiling warmly with a plate of freshly sliced apples in her hands. "It's okay if you didn't do well. Don't stay cooped up in your room." I quickly closed the post on my phone and walked out to the living room. Mom handed the sweetest apple slice to my younger brother, Jeff Scott, before turning to me with a gentle smile. "Even if you end up going to a community college, we won't look down on you. We can afford it." My phone screen was still lit. [Henry, congratulations! I can’t believe you got a 1590! That's an outstanding SAT score.] I locked the screen and placed my phone face down on the coffee table. "I know." My voice was barely above a whisper. Dad was flipping through a thick college admissions guide while my older sister, Ann, helped Jeff compare universities. "Jeff really did great this time. A 1420 on the SAT should get him into one of the state's top schools. So, are you planning to apply to colleges in Northbridge or Brookhaven?" Ann sounded incredibly proud. "Definitely Northbridge. I heard Whitney's applying there, too." Jeff leaned against Mom with a bright grin. None of them asked me the obvious, simple question, ‘Henry, what did you get?’ Dad closed the admissions guide with a satisfied smile and clapped his hands. "All right. We've got plenty of time to figure out the applications. "As a reward for Jeff, I'm taking both of you boys to Sunridge Mall today to pick out graduation gifts. Whatever you want, I'll pay for it. Go get changed." My heart gave a tiny, almost unnoticed leap. I had not been given the privilege of picking out a gift at the mall ever since Jeff got seriously sick when he was twelve. "Okay!" I stood up and hurried back to my room. I changed into a clean white T-shirt that had been through the laundry so many times that it was worn thin and soft. I even ran a hand through my hair, something I almost never bothered to do. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I took a deep breath. Maybe... Maybe there was still a place for me in their hearts. Ten minutes later, I opened my bedroom door. The living room was empty. My parents' and Ann's shoes were no longer at the front entrance. I stood there frozen, like a clown who had dressed up for a performance only to find out the show had been canceled without him. My phone buzzed. It was a social media post Jeff had made three minutes earlier. [Family outing! Off to the mall to pick out my graduation gift!] The attached photo was a selfie taken inside the car. Dad was behind the wheel, Ann sat beside him, and Mom and Jeff were in the back seat. Together, they smiled brightly at the camera. It was a five-seater car, but they took up every seat. There was no place for me. My fingers went numb as I called Mom. "Hello? Henry? What's up?" The line was noisy. I could faintly hear music playing inside the mall. "You guys already left?" My voice came out almost inaudible. "Oh! I forgot to tell you!" She sounded completely casual, almost cheerful. "You stayed in your room so long that I figured you didn't want to go out in this heat. "Just stay home and enjoy the air conditioning. There's still half a watermelon in the fridge." She did not even ask what I wanted. Instead, she had simply made the decision for me. "Mom! I want those limited-edition sneakers!" Jeff's excited voice rang through the phone. "Of course! We'll get you the most expensive pair." Mom laughed before speaking to me again. "All right, Henry, I've got to go. We're helping your brother pick out his shoes." Click. The call ended. Chapter 2 I tossed my phone onto the bed and ran both my hands through my hair, ruining the careful style I had spent so long fixing. It had always been like that. Whenever we played hide-and-seek as kids, I was always appointed as the seeker. Ann and Jeff would hide together, hand in hand, inside the bright, spacious walk-in closet in my parents' bedroom, while I was left alone in the dark attic, counting. By the time I finished counting to a hundred and opened my eyes, I would search every room in the house but never find them. Later, I would find out they had already slipped downstairs without me to buy ice cream at the corner store. Growing up had not changed anything. I pulled open a drawer and took out an old photo album, its pages yellowed with age. In the first few photos, I was not even two years old. Dad was holding me high in his arms, and Mom was kissing my cheek. Ann stood beside us, making funny faces to make me laugh. I remembered something a relative had said during New Year’s a long time ago. "Henry, you have no idea how protective your sister used to be. "I was only joking that you looked a little too chubby, but she scolded me for days." Back then... They had cared about me. However, after Jeff was born, I became invisible. He was handsome, with delicate features that made the difference between us impossible to ignore. Whenever relatives came over, they always said the same thing. "Jeff is so handsome. He looks like a young movie star." Then they would turn to me and force out the same awkward compliment. "Henry seems like such a good, honest kid." Honest. Mature. Never the type to compete for attention. Those were the labels they had pinned on me, and over the years, they had become a cage that kept me trapped for eighteen years. A sharp knock at the door pulled me back to the present. I closed the photo album and went to answer it. Whitney Jones stood outside with a bright smile. Her high ponytail swayed as she lifted a pair of shoe boxes. "Henry, guess what I brought!" She held them up proudly. "I got the newest basketball shoes for both you and Jeff!" My eyes drifted down. Through the small, clear window on the side of the boxes, I could see two identical pairs of high-top basketball shoes. "Thanks." I did not reach for them. I simply looked at her. "Come on, take them. I even bought your size." She pushed one of the boxes into my arms before walking into the living room as if she belonged there. "Where's Jeff? I sent him a message, but he hasn't replied." "They all went out to buy him a gift." I set the heavy shoe box on the coffee table. Whitney blinked, then smiled. "Oh, they're shopping. That explains it. Why didn't you go? Let me guess. You were hiding at home playing video games again." She said it so casually, as if it were the most obvious explanation. I looked down at the basketball shoes, built for explosive jumps and quick cuts. The old scar on my right knee began to ache. Three years ago, during our class basketball tournament, I had been sitting alone at the far end of the bleachers. Whitney had jogged over halfway through the game and handed me a bottle of ice water. "Henry, you're up in the second half! Good luck!" I had shaken my head. "My knee's injured. I don't play." She had stared at me in surprise before sitting down beside me. "That's actually pretty rare. Most guys our age can't sit still. You'd rather read than run around. You're different." After that day, every gift she gave me was either a rare edition of a book or a beautifully made set of bookmarks. Whenever we spent weekends together, she always assumed we would end up at the library. However, in just three years, she had forgotten all of it. Now, the only person she saw was Jeff, the boy who loved running across the basketball court while soaking up everyone's cheers. The first time Whitney came to my house, during our freshman year of high school, Jeff had just come home. He was carrying a basketball. After we walked downstairs, she blurted out without thinking, "Your brother looks so cool when he plays basketball. He's so energetic and full of life, unlike you. You're always so lifeless. "No wonder you're always saying your sister favors him. If I were her, I'd—" Back then, I thought she was only joking. It was not until later that I realized the joke had been the truth all along, quietly shaping every choice she had made over the past three years. "What are you staring at? Try them on and see if they fit." Whitney dropped onto the couch and casually urged me on when she noticed I was still looking at the shoe box. "Sure." I opened the box, took out the brightly colored sneakers, and slipped them on. The high tops wrapped tightly around my ankles, so tightly that even the old injury buried deep inside my knee began to throb. The pain spread until my leg felt numb. "Oh, by the way, which colleges are you applying to?" Whitney asked, not looking up. She was tapping away on her phone, probably texting Jeff, a smile lingering on her face. "Jeff said he wants to major in finance, so I've been helping him look at colleges. "What about you? I heard you'll probably end up at a community college. Well, at least Northbridge has a few decent ones. "The four of us will still be living in the same city. We can go out for good food on the weekends." I walked to the coffee table and opened my old laptop. The college application portal was still open. Every school on my list was located in Northbridge. Now, as I looked at them, each one felt like a quiet mockery. I moved the mouse. Delete. Redwood University. Delete. Ashcroft University. Delete. Kingsley University. When the search box for my first-choice school appeared, I calmly typed two words. [Seabreeze University.] It was nearly a thousand miles from Northbridge. I clicked ‘save’, then ‘submit’. Whitney locked her phone, looked up at me, and asked casually, "So, which school in Northbridge are you applying to?" I closed my laptop, turned to face her, and answered calmly, "Doesn't matter." Chapter 3 That evening, I heard the front door unlock. Mom, Dad, Ann, and Jeff came inside, carrying armfuls of shopping bags. Jeff was already wearing a brand-new limited-edition jacket from a brand collaboration. Grinning from ear to ear, he grabbed Whitney's wrist and spun around. "Well? Do I look good, Whitney? "Dad just bought this as my graduation gift. There are only a few of these in the whole city." Whitney smiled and nodded, her eyes lighting up. "It looks amazing. It suits you perfectly, and you look really handsome." Mom walked over and dug through the pile of bags until she pulled out a cheap black drawstring backpack. "Henry, I thought you could use this to carry your books." She handed me the nylon bag with a store logo printed across the front. It was from a free promotional giveaway. "Thanks, Mom." My voice was calm. "Henry's always so easy." Dad changed into his house slippers and patted me on the shoulder with a satisfied smile. "Unlike Jeff, who loves dressing up and spends so much money, you've never cared about that stuff. You're frugal and thoughtful, and you never make us worry. You're a good kid." I stood there in silence. They had never once asked me, ‘Henry, do you want this?’ They had simply decided that Jeff deserved the very best. As for me... I was expected to be grateful for whatever leftovers were handed to me, then praised for being ‘mature’. Jeff noticed I was not saying anything and suddenly tugged on Mom's sleeve. "Mom, did I spend too much? I think Henry's upset." He turned to me with a guilty look and pushed several designer shopping bags toward me. "Here, Henry. Why don't you take these clothes and shoes? "Mom and Dad already gave me $8,000 as a graduation gift. Ann gave me another $2,000. I have more than enough. You can have all of this." The living room fell completely silent. Dad froze with the glass still in his hand. Even Ann's expression changed. $8,000. I had never heard anyone mention that aloud before. "Henry, don't get the wrong idea." Ann was the first to break the silence. "I've only just started my internship, so money's tight right now. Once I get paid next month, I'll definitely make it up to you with a big gift." "Exactly!" Mom nodded so quickly it was almost frantic. "Our savings account doesn't mature until next month. Once it does, I'll get you something nice too. We would never play favorites." They rushed to explain themselves, talking over one another as if they were trying to cover up a secret they did not want exposed. Looking at the panic on their faces, I almost wanted to laugh. "You don't have to." That was all I said. "Henry, please don't be mad at Mom and Dad." Jeff's eyes suddenly landed on my desk. More specifically, on the faded wooden lion sitting in the corner. "Henry, if you're really upset..." He pointed at it hopefully. "How about I trade all these new clothes for that wooden lion? I really like it." It was the only thing Grandpa had left me before he passed away. When I was ten, Mom and Dad took Jeff to an amusement park and left me behind at Grandpa's house in the countryside. Outside, rain poured from the sky. Inside, Grandpa wore his reading glasses, carefully carving that clumsy little wooden lion for me, one careful stroke at a time. After he finished, he rested a hand on my head and smiled. "Anything Jeff has, our Henry should have too. "One day, our Henry will be just like this lion. You'll surprise everyone." Whenever life became so heavy that I could barely breathe, all I had to do was hold that little wooden lion. It always made it feel like Grandpa was still beside me. Mom hurried over. "Henry, since Jeff likes it so much, just let him have it. "When you get to Northbridge, I'll buy you an authentic Gundam model." Whitney immediately joined in. "Exactly! It's not every day your brother likes something like this. "If you want, once we're in Northbridge, I'll buy you a rare collector's edition action figure." One after another, they made the decision for me. They wanted to trade the most precious thing I owned for a free drawstring bag and a pile of promises that did not even exist yet. "Okay." I looked at them and nodded. Then I walked over, picked up the wooden lion, and placed it in Jeff's hands. He hugged it as if he had just found buried treasure. "Thanks, Henry!" "All right, everyone. Go wash your hands. Dinner's ready." Whitney laughed as she nudged Jeff toward the dining room. The whole family followed behind them, chatting and laughing together. I turned around, locked my bedroom door, and logged into an online marketplace. Then, without a second thought, I began listing everything I owned in this house, one item at a time. Chapter 4 The day before the graduation celebration, the living room was filled with gift boxes of every size. Jeff stood in front of the full-length mirror, wearing a custom-made white suit, and carefully straightened his bow tie. Mom stood behind him, gently smoothing the wrinkles from his jacket. "Mom, where's my suit?" I walked over to the couch, where garment bags were piled everywhere. Without even turning around, Mom kept adjusting Jeff's cuffs and answered casually, "You've never liked being the center of attention, anyway. Tomorrow, just sit with everyone else and enjoy the food. It doesn't matter what you wear." Ann walked out of her room with a dismissive snort. "Everyone's coming to celebrate Jeff tomorrow. You can wear whatever." She glanced at me. "That white T-shirt you're wearing is fine." I watched them fuss over Jeff, circling around him as if I were an audience member watching a play that had nothing to do with me. "Okay." I smiled. "It's comfortable, anyway." Jeff turned around with his usual innocent grin. "See? Henry knows how to keep life simple." I did not answer. I simply turned around and went back to my room. Late that night, the laughter and conversation in the living room finally faded. I locked my bedroom door and pulled my old suitcase from beneath the desk. I packed three changes of old clothes and my college acceptance letter. That was all I took. At six o'clock the next morning, the sky was just beginning to brighten. The rest of the family was still asleep, resting up for the graduation celebration later that day. Dragging my suitcase behind me, I quietly opened the front door without making a sound. Before leaving, I gently placed my house key on top of the shoe cabinet. In the middle of the marble coffee table lay one last thing. A metal bookmark. Its surface had darkened with age, and the edges were worn from years of use. Whitney had slipped it into my hand the first time she took me to the library during our freshman year. She had smiled and said, "Henry, from now on, all my patience for reading belongs to you." I had kept it for three years. Now, I left it behind on that cluttered coffee table. I pulled my suitcase downstairs and got into a taxi headed for the airport. The terminal buzzed with travelers as boarding announcements echoed through the building. I collected my boarding pass, passed through security, and stopped in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside, the morning sun was just beginning to rise, its golden light spilling across the runway. My phone vibrated. A message from Mom flashed on my phone screen. [Your dad and I talked all night. The graduation celebration should include you too.] [When you wake up, I'll take you to the mall so we can buy you a suit, okay?] I did not reply. Instead, I blocked them one after another. Dad. Mom. Ann. Finally, Whitney. After that, I left the family group chat called ‘Our Loving Family’. The world became quiet. I turned off my phone, picked up my suitcase, and walked toward my departure gate.