"Dad, what's the budget?"

Dylan tipped his head back and asked, his whole face lit up.

Mom and Dad traded a smile.

Then they answered him.

"Pick whatever you want!"

"Whoa!"

"Best parents ever, love you guys!"

Dylan cupped their faces in his hands and kissed them over and over.

When he came around to me,

the excitement on his face got even brighter.

He didn't kiss me.

Instead he asked, "Sis, which model do you think I should get?"

I shook my head. "No idea."

"Come on, give me your opinion."

"I've never looked into it."

"Son, don't put your sister on the spot. All she's got eyes for is textbooks and problem sets. What would she know about cars?"

"She probably can't even tell the brake from the gas pedal."

Mom and Dad laughed behind their hands.

Dylan shrugged. "It's not that bad, is it?"

"Your sister's a bookworm, plain and simple."

"Never mind her. Let's go."

They cheerfully led Dylan toward the door.

I couldn't stop myself from calling after them.

"Mom, Dad."

"I graduated too."

"Dylan's getting a gift."

"Don't I get one?"

Before, I never once asked them for a gift.

If they gave me something, I took it.

If they didn't, I didn't mind.

But usually they bought it for Dylan, and when Dylan didn't like it, they'd hand it off to me with that fake little smile.

Mom and Dad turned around and looked at me.

There was a flicker of impatience in their eyes.

"What does a girl need a gift for?"

"And you still haven't found a job since you graduated. Buying you a car would be pointless anyway."

"Your brother landed a good job."

"He needs a good car to keep up appearances."

"So stop getting in the way!"

"Get yourself ready and let's go."

"You're coming to help your brother pick out a car."

I froze.

Dylan and I graduated at the same time, just from different colleges.

Several top companies had been trying to recruit me at a high salary.

The best offer came with no internship required and a first-year salary of ninety thousand dollars.

Starting the second year, a twenty percent raise every year.

But my mentor kept urging me.

With my ability,

I shouldn't just go work some job.

I should put what I'd learned to use where it mattered.

At first I wanted Mom and Dad to help me decide.

But they never had time to hear me finish a single sentence.

It was the most important decision of my life.

And they had no part in it.

Because at the time they were busy taking Dylan to the hospital for a checkup.

All because he'd coughed a couple of times.

If it had been me, even if I'd coughed up blood,

they would have just told me to drink more hot water.

When we went out to help my brother buy his car, he had his eye on one that cost over ninety grand.

For an ordinary family like ours, that was expensive.

But my parents didn't so much as blink. They just swiped the card.

Watching Dylan collect his new car, snapping photo after photo to show off online, I'd be lying if I said I felt nothing.

Maybe it dawned on my parents that they'd been a little too one-sided.

On the way out of the dealership, we passed a shoe store, and they bought me a pair. They went straight for the cheapest ones, too.

The clerk said they were a clearance pair, and the size was wrong for my feet.

They pinched, and it hurt to walk.

My father told the clerk, "These ones."

"Sir, your daughter's foot looks like it's a size bigger. These don't fit right, they'll be uncomfortable to wear. Why not pick another pair?"

"No need. New shoes are all like that. She'll break them in after a couple of wears."

And just like that, I got my "graduation gift."

A pair of clearance shoes that didn't fit.

Next to my brother's ninety-thousand-dollar car, the difference was staggering.

But I didn't cry, didn't make a scene, and I didn't ask them why they played favorites like this.

Because I knew making a fuss wouldn't change anything.

Then the weekend came.

Dylan was off, so my parents took him to the next town over to go bungee jumping and ride a yacht.

Once again, they left me at home.

I only knew because they'd posted in the "Family Love" group chat.

Dylan put up a dozen photos of himself bungee jumping in a row.

Then he made a point of tagging me. "Sis, good thing you didn't come, or you'd have wet your pants for sure."

"This bungee jump is seriously terrifying. You drop off the cliff and your soul goes chasing after you."

I replied with a flat "oh."

My mother tagged me. "Don't be upset, honey. Mom and Dad just forgot about you. Next time we go out, we'll definitely bring you along."

"It's fine."

I was used to their frequent "forgetting."

My uncle, my aunt, the whole crowd of them chattered away in the group without stopping.

I didn't say another word.

By evening, dark clouds rolled in and rain came pouring down.

Dylan called me.

"Sis, are you home? Is it raining hard there? Close my window for me, would you? And while you're at it, wash my socks. I left in a rush and forgot to wash them."

My parents took the phone from him.

My mother reminded me, "Watch my potted plants. Don't let the rain kill them."

My father said, "My chess set's out on the balcony. Remember to bring it in."

They remembered the unwashed socks, worried about the plants getting rained on, feared the chess set soaking through.

No one asked whether I'd eaten, whether I was hungry.

In their eyes, every blade of grass, every leaf in that house, maybe even a single tissue, mattered more than I did.

Maybe it was because I'd stayed silent and hadn't answered.

My parents kept pushing me for a reply.

And I just answered flatly, "I'm not home."

On the other end of the line, my parents clearly stalled for a second.

Mom asked me, “It's pouring out there, so what are you still doing outside? Get home now and bring my potted plants in for me.”

Dad got worked up too.

“My chess set can't get rained on. Hurry back and put it away.”

My brother was even more frantic.

“Sis, where'd you run off to when you should be home?”

“My computer's right by the window.”

“If nobody closes it,”

“my computer's going to get ruined by the rain.”

Listening to all their complaints,

I said calmly, “I don't want to sit at home being a freeloader.”

The line went quiet for a few seconds.

Mom asked, “You... heard what we said?”

Just two days earlier,

my parents had brought me up while talking in the living room.

On one hand they were praising my brother for being so capable.

Barely a few days into the job, and his manager was already praising him.

On the other hand they were putting me down.

Good grades, and yet there I was at home sponging off them, a freeloader.

“Are you mad at your mom and dad?”

Dad asked me.

“No.”

“It's just that I've graduated too, and my brother's working now. I can't stay home doing nothing forever.”

My brother asked me, curious, “Sis, did you find a job?”

I gave a soft ‘mm.’

“Congrats, then.”

“Can you take the day off and go back to close the window for me?”

“That computer's the new one Mom and Dad set up for me.”

“It's super expensive.”

He'd always say ‘do it for me,’ and I never once refused.

But this time,

I refused without hesitation.

“Sorry, can't help you.”

“Laurel Pruitt, how much can that dead-end job of yours even pay in a month? Don't make me cuss you out. Take a day off and get back there, or just quit, either way.”

Dad's tone turned sharp.

“Have fun, all of you.”

I hung up on the spot.

A little while later,

the phone rang again, ringing like it was screaming for my life.

I turned it off.

By then I was already on a plane headed two thousand miles away.

I hadn't said goodbye to anyone.

And I hadn't told a soul where I was going.

The next day.

My parents and brother got home.

The potted plants were dead, the chess set was ruined, and the computer was broken too.

Their mouths never stopped, all curses and complaints.

“When your sister gets home from work,”

“I'm going to chew her out for good!”

My brother's eyes went red. “I'm yelling at her too. My computer was so nice and now it's wrecked. I'm furious!”

By night, twelve midnight.

Their daughter still hadn't come home.

And that was when

my brother cried out, “Mom, Dad, stop waiting. Sis isn't coming back.”

“What do you mean?”

“She took all her luggage.”

“And she left a letter.”

Once they'd read what was in the letter,

the three of them were dumbfounded.

“What is this supposed to mean? She didn't say where she's going.”

“Just that she'll be gone three to five years?”

“And something about how this family doesn't need her.”

“But some place out there really needs her.”

“It's honestly a joke.”

“A bookworm who can't do anything but study.”

“What's she acting out for when everything was fine?”