- 6.
With my adult mind in a seven–year–old body, I excelled academically, leaving Lily far
behind. Lily’s damsel–in–distress act worked
on my family, but not on her teachers. Failing
grades were failing grades.
Whenever Lily’s poor performance required a
parent–teacher conference, she’d cry,
claiming stress and eye problems, yet
refusing to transfer to a school for the
visually impaired. Exam weeks always brought
drama and chaos to our house.
To spare Lily’s feelings and protect her from
the stigma of being an adopted child, my
parents attended her parent–teacher
conferences together, even if it meant
missing mine, which were held on the same
Г
They knew I was being bullied and mocked at
school for being the “unloved” child. Yet,
whenever they needed to prioritize Lily over
me, they trotted out the same tired excuses:
“Lily’s not well, and she’s had a difficult life.
You should be more understanding.”
But I didn’t care. Knowledge was my power. I
studied relentlessly, skipping a grade at
twelve, becoming the youngest high school
student in our city’s history. My name was
everywhere; everyone knew the Evans family
had a prodigy daughter.
My father’s phone rang off the hook with
calls from influential families wanting to
connect with me, even suggesting
engagements for their children. But, again, to
L
“spare Lily’s feelings,” my father declined
every invitation. He never considered how
beneficial these connections could be for my
future.
Of course. How could I compare to his
precious Lily?
On the day my acceptance letter arrived, the
principal and a reporter came to our house to
personally deliver it. But they were greeted
only by my parents hurrying out the door. Lily
wouldn’t allow me to steal the spotlight. She
had complained of a headache, and my
parents had rushed her to the hospital, not
even bothering to acknowledge the principal.
Despite my long–standing disappointment in
my parents, I felt a pang of sadness and
helplessness. The principal looked at me with
kindness. “We don’t typically offer boarding,
but if you’d like to live on campus, you can apply, and I’ll arrange it.”
The principal’s gentle touch on my head was
a rare display of care and concern. I hadn’t
felt that warmth from an adult in so long.
Tears welled up in my eyes. And because of
those tears, I gained two truly important
people in my life.
