My Family Chose Her And Lost Me Forever Chapter 02
The next morning, they were all at the breakfast bar with the laptop open, filling out Lily’s housing forms.
Mom had bookmarked her top pick. “Lily’s always loved her art. That dorm right by the Parsons campus is supposed to be gorgeous.”
Ryan leaned in. “This one has a private bathroom. She’ll be comfortable.”
Dad, who almost never spoke up about this kind of thing, said, “Get her that one, then.”
The four of them clustered around one screen the whole morning.
I sat at the other end of the table with my own laptop closed in front of me. Northwestern’s confirmation had been sitting in my inbox for a week.
Nobody asked me where I was going.
At lunch, Mom set her fork down like she’d just remembered something.
“Right — we need to sort out her allowance too.”
She turned to Lily, and her voice went soft.
“New York’s expensive, honey. I’ll wire you fifteen hundred at the start of every month. If it’s tight, you tell Mom, okay?”
My fork paused halfway to my mouth.
Money was tight. It had been tight for two years. Dad’s crew had been working only three days a week since winter. Mom was on the register at the co-op. Ryan was going into junior year.
Three kids in college at once, and fifteen hundred a month on top for Lily — that was going to hurt.
I opened my mouth.
“Mom. What we bring in every month — with three tuitions and Lily’s living expenses—”
Ryan’s fork hit the table.
“What is your problem?”
“What, are you the family accountant now? Lily needs a little spending money — so what?”
“She’s alone in New York. Of course we’re taking care of her.”
“That’s not what I—”
“You just can’t stand her being happy!” He was genuinely angry now. “It’s been like this since we were kids. She has nobody, Anna. Nobody. Would it kill you to let her have this?”
Ethan, who had been quiet at the end of the table, set his fork down and smiled at Mom.
“Okay — how about this. Ms. Mercer, give Lily six hundred, and I’ll cover the other nine every month. My dad gave me a card in my name. There’s plenty of money on it.”
Mom lit up. “Ethan, honey, we couldn’t possibly—”
He waved her off. “Really, Ms. Mercer. Lily’s like a sister to me. Don’t worry about it.”
Lily set her fork down and gave that sweet, careful smile.
“Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Ethan.”
I opened my mouth and nothing came.
Nine hundred a month.
He worked weekends at a bubble tea place. He made maybe sixty bucks on a good week. He’d been saving all summer for a camera lens.
That money was going to Lily now. Every month. For four years.
He and I had been together three years. On my eighteenth birthday last March, he hadn’t been able to afford a cake. I bought my own on the way home from school. I told him it was fine. We were both students. I understood.
I understood.
Mom set a piece of chicken on Lily’s plate. Then she looked up as if something had only just occurred to her.
“Oh — Anna, you should look at New York too. Then you two girls could look out for each other. Much safer.”
My stomach dropped.
“And what about my allowance?” I asked, quietly.
She looked at me as if I’d said something strange.
“Honey, you’re eighteen. In a city like New York, you could easily find a waitressing job — two, three thousand a month, no problem. You’ve always been the capable one. I’m hardly going to worry about you going hungry.”
I laughed. It came out wrong.
My eyes were burning.
She meant: same college, fifteen hundred a month for Lily, and nothing for me. Because I was capable. Because I managed. She didn’t hear anything wrong in what she’d just said. She really didn’t.
That night, Ethan messaged.
hey — if you’re ever short on food money just say. I applied to Parsons too. Same school as Lil. Didn’t want her alone out there. I’ll keep an eye on her. Don’t worry, it won’t set me back. x
I looked at it for a long time.
Your scores could get you into a much stronger program. And you’re going to her school?
He came back instantly.
Their program’s good too. And I don’t like the idea of her being alone in the city. It won’t affect me, promise.
I sat and typed something. Deleted it. Typed it again. Deleted it.
In the end I just sent:
Ok.
He’d chosen a school far below what his scores could have earned him, just to look after her.
Three years we’d been together. During senior year, whenever I asked him for help with math, he would say, Anna, I’m on the home stretch here, I can’t be spending my nights tutoring you.
I locked the phone and rolled over on the mattress.
Through the wall, I could hear the four of them laughing at something on the TV.
I opened my Northwestern acceptance email again — the one I hadn’t even bothered to answer, because I’d already accepted the overseas scholarship instead.
I wondered how long it would take them to notice I was gone.