The Blue Sheets

Kaycee's POV

“Kaycee, why are you paying for the purchase yourself?”

My brother, Cory Tuttle, pressed my phone down before I could tap it against the machine.

“Mikayla’s used bedding doesn’t have a hole or anything. What’s your issue?”

I swatted his hand off with composure.

“Since the sheets are in such good condition, Mikayla can take them to school.

“I’m buying the set of blue bed linens with my own money. I’m not spending money from the family’s budget.”

Following a soft beep, the transaction was successful.

Cory froze while our mother, Tracey Tuttle, grimaced.

“Why are you so unappreciative? Mikayla only offered you her old one because she was trying to save you money.”

Mikayla Tuttle tugged Mom on the sleeve, her eyes welling up.

“Don’t be mad at Kaycee, Mom. It’s all my fault. I should’ve just given her my new bedding.”

Ben Cross approached and took the heavy shopping bags from Mikayla’s hands.

“Kaycee, it’s just a set of sheets. Must you make everyone upset?”

I looked at my childhood friend, the man who had sworn to be my only knight in shining armor.

Somewhere down the line, Ben’s attention had shifted to Mikayla.

I held onto the bag with the blue bedding set.

“All I wanted was a fresh, clean set of sheets.”

Not giving them any more attention, I walked out of the store.

On the way home, Ben was behind the wheel.

As always, I headed for the front passenger seat. My hand reached for the handle.

Cory pulled me back.

“Take the back seat.

“Mikayla gets a little motion sick, so she should sit in the front.”

I paused and glanced at Mikayla.

Mikayla clutched her chest, her head resting on Tracey’s shoulder.

However, I recalled her chatting and laughing with Tracey in the back seat while munching on a bag of chips.

Ben rolled down the car window, his voice tender.

“Just take the back seat, Kaycee. There’s more room back there anyway. You can kick back and relax.”

Without a word, I withdrew my arm and opened the door to the back seat.

It was cramped in the back.

Cory, Tracey, and I were squeezed in the back row.

Tracey edged forward, wrapping her arms around Mikayla, while Cory kept reaching to hand her tissues.

Shoved into the corner by the window, I was basically stuck against the frigid car door.

The streetlights outside the window fleeted past.

Back in seventh grade, I ranked first in school.

I sprinted home with my report card, hoping to get a hug from Tracey.

However, Mikayla was running a slight fever that day.

The entire family fussed over her the whole night as she lay in bed.

My report card was left on the coffee table, where it ended up soaking up grease beneath a takeout box.

Since then, I had learned to keep my grades in check.

I kept my grades just slightly above Mikayla's average.

Here I thought that by not standing out, our parents would divide their attention more evenly between Mikayla and me.

I was wrong.

For the unloved, no amount of sacrifice was good enough. Even the deepest devotion would be labeled an inconvenience.

Back home, dinner was already ready on the table.

It was Mikayla’s favorite seafood gumbo and barbecue ribs.

Tracey slipped on gloves, peeled the shrimp, and added them to Mikayla’s plate one by one.

“Dig in, Mikayla. You won’t get much of my cooking once you’re away at college.”

Cory took the most tender rib, cut the meat off the bone, and added it to Mikayla’s plate.

“If you can’t get used to the cafeteria food at Briarwood University, just give me a buzz. I’ll order takeout for you.”

Sitting across from Mikayla, Ben refilled her drink with a smile.

“I work around the area. I know all the diners around the campus. I’ll take you out for great food on weekends.”

They looked like a happy, close-knit family.

Keeping my head down, I simply took a big bite of kale on my plate.

After dinner, I retreated to my modest bedroom, a space that had been converted from a storage room.

I pulled open the very bottom drawer.

There lay a college admission letter.

The letterhead bore the prestigious name of the school.

Westbridge University.