My Family’s Deadly Competition

I come from an old-money family. My grandfather's will was ironclad: whoever gets an Ivy League acceptance letter unlocks 25% of a massive trust fund and a seat on the family board.

Out of four siblings, I was the only one who stood a chance.

Every night, my mother Victoria carefully made me a cup of "organic brain-boosting matcha." My twin sister Chloe and younger brother Mason never got that privilege.

The night before the December SAT—the last chance for Regular Decision Ivy scores—Victoria handed me my green matcha as usual.

The next day, my mind went completely blank during the test. I blacked out.

I missed that application season.

Meanwhile, Chloe—who spent her time at yacht parties and couldn't read an equation—miraculously got an offer from UPenn and sailed right onto the board.

The second year, right before the test, my snobby cousin Brianna reached for my matcha. Victoria slapped her hand away and screamed: "Don't touch Ava's things!"

That exam, I got severe stomach cramps and was rushed to the ER by ambulance.

I had to drop out again. And Brianna—who only cared about designer bags—somehow got into Cornell and took her board seat.

The whole family popped champagne in our Upper East Side penthouse.

I became the laughingstock of Manhattan's elite, having missed two application seasons in a row.

Why did my body crash like clockwork, right at the final, life-changing SAT?

Prepping for the third time, I took no chances.

For three days before the test, I ate only gluten-free detox meals controlled by a private nutritionist.

But the night before the big test, Victoria smiled and brought me that familiar cup of green matcha.

"Drink up while it's hot! It's organic matcha from Erewhon. I added honey and MCT oil."

Victoria held the slightly sweet, green liquid with a perfect smile on her face. "Tomorrow is your last SAT. This will get your brain in peak condition."

I stared at the delicate bone china cup. I swallowed hard.

But for some reason, alarm bells were ringing in my head. Don't drink it.

"I didn't even make any for Mason," Victoria whispered, like it was a precious secret.

Just then, my brother Mason walked past the walk-in closet. He spotted the cup.

I called out to him. "I can't finish this alone. Mason can have some."

Mason froze, his eyes lighting up. "Really? I finally get to try the magic brain juice?"

Slap!

Victoria smacked Mason's hand away hard. Her face instantly darkened.

"Don't touch that!" she snapped. "This is brain fuel for Ava. She's aiming for a 1550 tomorrow! Why do you care? You don't even know basic algebra."

Mason rubbed his red hand and grumbled. "You're so biased, Mom. Who cares if Ava is smart? She's missed two application seasons in a row. She hasn't even touched the trust. Meanwhile, Brianna is on the board, showing off her custom G-Wagon every day."

"Shut up!" Victoria's voice was absolute and commanding. "Go back to your room!"

Mason stomped off. He threw one last comment over his shoulder: "Whatever. That matcha looks gross anyway. Doesn't look like it makes anyone smarter."

After he left, Victoria turned back to me.

The anger vanished from her face. She looked gentle and loving again.

"Ignore him." She pushed the cup closer. "Drink it up and go to bed early. You have a big test tomorrow."

I couldn't say no. Not when she looked at me like that.

She had sacrificed so much for this family.

The matcha felt heavy in my hands. A flashback from two years ago hit me.

Back then, Chloe and I were prepping for the exams together.

We ate the exact same things. I only had one extra thing: Mom's special "brain-boosting matcha."

I ended up dizzy and sick during the test.

When I woke up in the hospital, the application season was over.

But Chloe—the girl who spent her days partying on yachts—miraculously scored a 1560. She got into Penn.

Last year was even weirder.

My cousin Brianna wanted a sip of my matcha. Victoria screamed at her, "Don't touch Ava's things!"

Then I got killer stomach cramps during the exam and got rushed to the ER.

And Brianna, who only cared about designer bags, ended up at Cornell.

Two accidents. I had to question this drink.

"Mom, I'll drink it in a bit," I said, trying to sound natural.

"Okay, don't forget." Victoria nodded and went back to the kitchen.

The second she left, I grabbed the cup and rushed to the bathroom. I poured the whole thing down the sink and washed it away with hot water.

If I was right...

At least this time, nothing would go wrong, right?