I Will Love Myself Chapter 04
I didn’t argue or refuse. Back in my room, I pulled out my old backpack and packed on autopilot.
When I opened the bottom drawer in the living room to put my keys away, a receipt caught my eye.
The item listed was a portable recorder. The date was my tenth birthday.
My body seized up.
For my tenth birthday, they put thirteen candles on Rachel’s cake, and I broke.
I cried and yelled that I’d never had a birthday of my own, while Rachel got cakes and presents every year.
They looked irritated. “Alright, what do you want?”
Through sobs, I said I wanted a recorder. A lot of kids in class had one for their language tapes.
Dad and Mom exchanged a look. The next day, a brand‑new recorder showed up on my desk.
I was over the moon. I treated it like treasure.
When I came home from school the day after, it was gone.
I tore the whole house apart looking for it, but it never turned up.
They decided I’d misplaced it. Then they grounded me and told me not to ask for anything again.
For years, I carried the guilt, convinced it was my fault.
Now I stared at the return slip until tears came.
Finally, I set the slip on the table, took one last look around the house, turned the doorknob, and walked out.
**
The night they arrived in New York, Rachel came down with a high fever.
Mary and David took turns looking after her for days, but she stayed sick.
Worn out, Mary thought of Noelle. “She’s just at home doing nothing. We should have her help out. It’ll make things easier for us.”
She grabbed her phone and kept calling, but Noelle didn’t pick up.
Mary frowned, agitated. “What’s with her? Why isn’t she answering?”
David hesitated, then said, “Maybe she’s mad. We did only bring Rach with us.”
Mary pressed her lips together. “I already talked to her. Rach’s repeating the year. We had to come with her, didn’t we?”
She tried again, but it was just that droning busy signal.
David glanced at Rachel in the hospital bed, then back at Mary. “How about this? I’ll stay with Rach. It’s just IVs and rest. You head home.”
Mary nodded after a moment and booked the earliest train back.
On the train, she kept texting Noelle.
At first, her tone was sharp, edged with blame. “Elle, why are you making things difficult? Rach’s sick. Can’t you be a little more understanding?”
“You’re being impossible lately. Why can’t you be more like Rach?”
Then she softened. “Elle, where do you want to go this summer? Just tell me.
“I’ll take you anywhere.”
Noelle didn’t reply.
The train kept moving. Everything outside blurred past the window.
Mary’s messages came faster, each one a little more unsettled than the last. “Elle, text me back.”
“What are you doing? Why aren’t you replying?”
“Elle, are you home?”
“I’m almost there. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Once the train stopped, she bolted out. Then she flagged down a taxi and told the driver to hurry.
A twenty-minute ride turned into fifteen.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside, calling out. “Elle, I’m back.”
The living room was empty. Noelle’s bedroom door stood open.
She crossed over quickly and knew something was off. The room was too neat, or maybe too empty.
“Elle? Elle?”
Her voice rose, tight with worry.
No one answered. She rushed back out just as the neighbor from next door came with a basket of groceries.
“Victoria, have you seen Elle?”
Victoria stopped. “Her homeroom teacher came by this morning with her admission letter. She’s probably already headed to school.”
Mary went still. “Admission letter? What school?”
Victoria blinked, surprised. “Elle got into NYU! Didn’t she tell you? That’s a big deal!”