If Home's Too Crowded, I'll Leave

Lauren's POV

By nightfall, I still hadn't managed to hitch a ride home.

The moment my best friend, Mabel Sink, and her parents found out, they didn't hesitate. They drove nearly 100 miles from the neighboring city just to pick me up.

Between the heat exhaustion and the stomach problems I'd struggled with since I was a kid, I started feeling nauseous not long after I got in the car.

I fought to keep it down, but I couldn't. I threw up all over the back seat.

The sour stench filled the car almost immediately.

Panic hit me like a freight train. My mind went blank as I frantically reached down, trying to scoop up the mess with my bare hands.

Mabel caught my wrist before I could.

"It's just a car," she said. "You matter more."

Mrs. Sink gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear before wiping my mouth with a wet wipe. Mr. Sink quietly turned up the air conditioning, making sure the vent wasn't blowing directly on me.

Not one of them looked disgusted. All I saw on their faces was concern.

I stared at them, stunned. So this was what it felt like to make a mistake and be met with kindness instead of anger.

Everything I'd bottled up for the past 18 years came crashing down.

Tears streamed down my face, the bitter taste still lingering in my mouth. And just like that, I was reliving the summer I was ten years old.

My little sister, Emily Walt, had been begging for ice cream that day. I looked away for just a moment, and she was gone.

From that day on, I became the family's scapegoat.

Mom and Dad dragged me through the neighborhood, searching for her until sunrise.

My older brother, Jake Walt, tore my favorite doll to pieces.

"If Emily never comes home, we'll never forgive you," he said.

After that, I started getting up before dawn every morning to do the housework, desperate to make up for what I'd done.

One day, I was carrying a pot of soup when my foot slipped. The pot tipped, sending scalding broth down my legs. Dad didn't even notice.

Mom shrieked and shoved me out the front door, while Jake looked at me like I deserved every second of it.

Curled up on the cold apartment landing, I spent the longest, coldest night of my life.

Three years later, Emily was finally found.

But after three years in captivity, she wasn't the same little girl who'd disappeared. She'd become angry, volatile, and selfish.

Somehow, my family decided that was my fault, too.

To make up for everything she'd been through, they gave her the best of everything.

When we moved into a new house, she got the bright, spacious master bedroom. I was sent to the cramped attic, where it baked in the summer and froze in the winter.

Emily loved spicy food. From then on, every meal was made to her taste, and there was rarely a single dish I could eat.

Whenever Dad came home from a business trip, he'd bring Mom expensive skincare, Jake the latest sneakers, and Emily whatever collectible she wanted.

He unpacked everything he'd brought home, but not a single item was meant for me.

I wasn't allowed to cry. I wasn't allowed to complain. Because the answer was always the same.

"Your sister suffered because of you. You owe her this much."

I'd always believed that if I never fought my sister for anything, there'd eventually be a place for me in that family.

But I was wrong. There had never been a place for me in there.

I arrived on campus a little after nine that night.

With no one to help me, I hauled my luggage up in three separate trips before I finally got everything into my dorm.

Once I was done, I checked my phone. Just as I'd expected, the family group chat had exploded with messages. Not one of them mentioned me.

While I'd been standing alone in the scorching heat, overwhelmed and not knowing what to do, they'd been helping my sister settle into her dorm.

They'd made her bed, cleaned her desk, and gotten her room ready before she'd even unpacked. They'd even taken her new roommates out for barbecue, hoping they'd look after her.

Mom had sent a full minute of voice messages, filled with worry for Emily.

"Sweetheart, don't turn the AC down too low. And make sure you keep a blanket on at night."

Even Dad, who was never one to show his emotions, sounded like he was holding back tears. "If you ever need money, just tell me. Don't go without."

Jake didn't say a word. He just kept sending her money.

My own inbox, meanwhile, was almost empty. The only message waiting for me was from Patrick Green.

It read, "Text me when you get to campus."

I closed WhatsApp, too exhausted to look at it any longer. Then I opened my email and wrote to my advisor.

"Mr. Carter, I've made my decision about the 4+2 program you mentioned."