My Sister Loves My School's Heartthrob Boyfriend

Emma returned home humming, clearly in high spirits.

She tossed me a dress as if I were her maid.

"Wash this; I'm wearing it for my date tomorrow."

As she dug through her closet, Mom asked her why she was so elated.

Emma emerged from the bedroom, bright-eyed, fluttering like a social butterfly.

"Mom, check out this dress! Isn't it stunning? I'm wearing it for my date tomorrow."

I stood frozen, a strawberry in hand.

Mom laughed lightly and asked, "Who's the date with?"

Emma shot me a smug look.

"He's the hottest guy at school, a total brainiac. We've even decided to attend the same university."

Mom complimented her, "It's beautiful, just like my daughter—she looks good in anything."

Sam texted me: [Got a class reunion tomorrow—will you be there? I need to talk to you.]

I hesitated over my phone.

[Can't, got a shift at work.]

Emma and I are sisters, but she's always been the favored one.

Mom's constant reminder was, "Sarah, let your sister have her way; she's not well."

Whether it was my room or my toys, everything had to be hers, or else I was the unreasonable one.

I learned early on: I couldn't outshine Emma.

Non-compliance meant a harsh reprimand.

Thus, I retreated into my shell, becoming quieter and more solitary by the day.

While Emma, always basking in parental favor, radiated confidence and joy.

She was the outgoing, charming one; I remained the silent type.

Mom and Dad clearly favored her, often ignoring me.

Even after our exams, Mom only asked Emma about her results, treating me as if I were invisible.

Now, they were pushing me to find a part-time job, simply using my adulthood as an excuse to stop supporting me financially.

Though accustomed to the neglect, I nearly broke down when Mom transferred $20,000 to Emma for a "fun and relaxing outing".

Working as a waitress, I bumped into some classmates in a private dining room.

The sweltering summer heat made the back kitchen unbearable without air conditioning; I was drenched in sweat and grease.

Pushing open the room's door, I heard curious voices inside.

"Emma, how come you showed up with Sam today? What's your deal?"

Emma blushed and demurred.

"Nothing really, just happened to be on the same path."

Though she denied it, her tone and demeanor told the whole story.

The room filled with laughter and playful shouts.

Struggling with the heavy door, I appreciated the help from a hand behind me.

It was Sam, fresh from a phone call outside.

Seeing me, his face showed surprise.

I brushed him off with a curt, "Thanks."

After setting the plates down, I turned to leave.

Then a classmate called out.

"Sarah, what are you doing here?"