Living for Me

Makayla Martin isn’t actually my sister.

She’s my cousin, taken in by my parents after her mother passed away.

The year she first arrived, she was skinny as a twig, standing shyly at the doorway, whispering, "You're my sister now, Emma."

My mom burst into tears on the spot and gave her my room, the one I had just finished decorating with glowing star stickers.

"Makayla lost her mom, while you have everything. Just let her have it," Mom told me.

I was only eight years old back then, holding a brand-new desk lamp Grandma had just given me. I had only used that lamp for two nights before Mom moved it straight into Makayla’s room.

"Makayla is afraid of the dark," Mom reasoned. "Besides, you get good grades. You can study anywhere."

From that day on, giving in became second nature to me in this house.

I had to give her my new clothes. I had to give her the single strawberry on top of the birthday cake. Even the cash and gift cards from our relatives had to be saved for Makayla first.

When teachers praised my top marks, Mom told me not to bring it up at home so Makayla wouldn't feel bad.

Yet, I clearly had nothing of my own.

My honor roll certificates were shoved deep under the drawers, while a crooked drawing of a rabbit Makayla made was framed and hung right in the living room.

When my stomach ached, I was called dramatic. However, if Makayla so much as cleared her throat, the whole family would drive her to the hospital in the middle of the night.

Three days after the college acceptances came out, my parents rented the biggest banquet hall in town to throw Makayla a college acceptance party.

The hotel manager handed over the sample invitation card. The gold foil lettering was gorgeous.

[Congratulations to Makayla Martin on her acceptance!]

The manager asked, "Don't you have two kids who are going to college? Should we put both names on the invitation?"

"Just write Makayla's." Mom didn't even hesitate.

Her voice was overflowing with pride. "Makayla has had it tough since she was little. She worked so hard to get into nursing school, so this party is entirely for her."

Dad was also busy picking the seat right in the middle of the head table for Makayla.

"That way, guests will see her as soon as they walk in. It'll let everyone know our family hasn't mistreated her."

Makayla lowered her head and whispered, "Mom, maybe we should add Emma's name too? She did way better than me."

She always did this, pretending to stand up for me just to play the victim.

In the end, everyone would think she was an angel, and if I didn't appreciate it, I was just being petty.

Sure enough, Mom squeezed her hand sympathetically. "You're just too sensible! It's not like her good grades are anything new. Why does she always have to upstage you?"

My brother, Jason Martin, gave me an indifferent look as well. "Emma, it wasn't easy for Makayla to get in. Can't you just let her have this moment?"

I bowed my head and let out a faint laugh.

So in this family, even having my name printed was considered a competition.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated.

[Emma Martin, congratulations. You have passed the final selection for the Green Ear Project at the Daruna Desert Germplasm Bank. Please confirm your acceptance within forty-eight hours, or your spot will be forfeited.]

My fingertips froze, and I instantly locked the screen.

Nobody noticed. They were still animatedly discussing Makayla’s dress, her acceptance speech, and how guests would praise her good manners.

Nobody asked what score I got, and nobody asked where I wanted to go.

I reached out and signed my name on the hotel confirmation slip.

Not to act as a hostess for anyone else, but to confirm for myself that this time, I wouldn't give in ever again.