I'm Done Waiting

When I came out, dinner was already drawing to a close.

Mom placed a glazed barbecue rib on my brother, Mason Young's, plate and, without even looking up, said, "There's no food left. I saved you a piece of cake in the fridge."

She said it as though it were the most natural thing in the world, as though it didn't matter whether I ate or not.

The class group chat had already gone crazy. It was filled with pictures of feasts and all kinds of nourishing soups.

Then I looked at the plates in front of Mason and my sister, Mia Young, then at my parents'.

There was nothing in front of me.

My chest tightened. I pulled my chair over beside the trash can and asked quietly, "Wasn't there still some pasta left?"

Dad put down his cutlery. "That's for Mason. He's got a fitness test coming up, so he needs to eat more."

Then he turned to Mason. "Keeping up with your training?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Does your ankle still hurt where you injured it last time?"

"Not really."

"I'll take you to the doctor the day after tomorrow and get it checked."

"It's been fine for ages."

"Just get it checked. Your mother and I will feel better."

They worried about him. They didn't care about me at all. They didn't even ask.

I tried to find something to talk about. "Dad, I took my college entrance exam today..."

He gave a vague hum without asking anything else and kept eating.

I waited two minutes, but he still didn't ask.

"There were so many people outside the school today. Some were holding flowers, and others were handing out water..."I clasped my hands together and stood awkwardly at the edge of the table, forcing out a dry little laugh.

But no one responded. It was as if the words coming out of my mouth, just like me, were nothing but air.

Mason kept gnawing on his rib. Mia glanced at me, then pulled out a tissue and wiped her mouth. Mom ladled a spoonful of soup into Dad's bowl without sparing me a single glance.

The table was unnaturally quiet. No one seemed to care that I'd taken the exam, how I'd done, or when my scores would come out. None of it mattered. At least, not to this family.

Finally, Mom turned to Mason. "Your competition is coming soon. Don't catch a cold from the air conditioning these next two nights."

Dad nodded. "There's been a lot of flu going around lately. Better be careful."

Mia chimed in, "If you do well, I've got a present for you!"

"Don't worry. I'll give it everything I've got!" Mason replied before gulping down two mouthfuls of water.

Then he smiled at me and added, "Remember to eat your cake."

I didn't like that smile. Something about it hurt my eyes.

I looked at the piece of cake. The frosting had melted, and the strawberries had gone limp and turned a dull reddish-brown. It was the leftover scrap from Mason's birthday cake five days ago.

I remembered that day clearly because I'd asked Mom for 20 dollars to buy a new stationery set.

When she heard the price, she'd shaken her head. "20 dollars for a few pens and rulers? That's too expensive. We've got three kids. We need to save money."

But then she'd turned around and ordered Mason a fancy mousse-covered birthday cake.

I'd secretly looked up the price on my phone. It cost a full 100 dollars. That was enough to buy 5 stationery sets, 25 sets of practice papers, or decent meals for me for 10 days.

I really wanted to know what made a 100-dollar cake so different from the 10-dollar ones I rarely bought for myself.

But Mom had cut the cake into only four pieces, one for each of them. There hadn't been one for me.

I had swallowed my anger and asked, "Where's mine?"

She had swallowed her bite of cake and mumbled, "That stuff gives you diarrhea. Don't eat it."

Now the cake sat in the fridge, melted and spoiled, because no one wanted it anymore.

So now I was allowed to eat it, and she wasn't afraid it would give me diarrhea.

I carried the cake back to my chair.

Mia suddenly shouted, "Move!"

Before I could get out of the way, a crumpled tissue struck me squarely in the forehead. The grime on it smeared across my eyelid.

Mom scoffed. "How stupid! There are so many places you could sit, and you had to sit beside the trash can? No wonder you're just like the trash. Completely useless!"

My hand froze halfway to my face for only a moment. Then I calmly wiped myself clean and looked up at the family before me.

Four people sat around a square table, with four sets of plates and cutlery laid out before them. Each of them had a place of their own.

Mason liked sitting across from the TV because he could watch the games from there. Mia liked sitting by the window because she said the air was better. My parents sat at opposite ends of the table, with Mason and Mia safely between them.

But there was no place for me.