My Parents Sold My Future For Her Convenience Chapter 02
A dull ache prickled in my chest again.
That “greedy” remark she’d been calling me that ever since
I was eight. I’d caved and snuck one cherry from a bowl
Bianca had left half–eaten.
My mother saw it, snatched it right out of my hand, and
from that day on, I was permanently branded as the
greedy one who stole from her sister.
I glanced back at the fruit she’d brought me earlier. A sad little plate of wilted apples–Bianca’s least favorite.
I pushed the door open and stepped out. Bianca flinched, instinctively hiding the cherries behind her back.
She gave me an awkward smile. “Celia. You just come out?”
My mother’s eyes flicked from the cherries in Bianca’s
arms to me. She rolled her eyes. “What else? She probably
smelled them from her room.”
She reached into the bowl, picked out three of the smallest
cherries with visible reluctance, and thrust them at me.
“Here. Don’t say I play favorites. You’ve already got apples
in your room, don’t you?”
I didn’t take them. Didn’t say a word. Just stepped around
her outstretched hand in silence.
Parents don’t often hand their kids an easy way out, and
the unfavored ones? They don’t even get that option.
So instead of reflecting or apologizing, my mother got
angry at my silent refusal.
“I don’t know what your problem is these days.”
“Your father and I bust our backs working, putting food on
the table, and we come home to that sour face of yours.”
“Can’t you learn from
your sister and show a little
gratitude for once?”
Bianca tugged at her sleeve. “Mom, stop. She’s probably
just in a bad mood.”
I didn’t bother with either of them. I walked to the front
door and pulled it open, hopeful.
Outside, my brother Riven held up a bouquet of
sunflowers. “Ta–da! Celebrating our Celia! Top scorer in
the whole state, science track!”
I took the flowers, a real smile breaking through. “Thanks,
Riven…”
Before I could finish, a whiny voice cut in from behind.
“Riven, you can’t play favorites just because Celia scored
higher! I’m gonna be mad.”
And just like that, my brother pulled out a tower of
ribbon–wrapped boxes from behind him.
“Of course I didn’t forget our Bianca. Celia gets flowers,
you get presents too.”
“Here, 1050. So I spent ten thousand five hundred on a full
set of electronics for you. That’s four months of my
paycheck.”
Bianca squealed and threw herself at him.
Me? I stood there frozen, clutching a single bundle of
sunflowers. All alone.