The front door slam shut downstairs. That means they are back.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs told me they were coming to me. I kept my earphones locked in, pretending to listen to music even though nothing was playing.
Three sharp knocks came on my door.
“Avery.” Dad’s voice was extremely cold. “Living room. Now.”
I rolled my eyes, getting up sluggishly before unplugging my earphones. I made sure to maintain the same pace as I pryed the door open.
Dad stood there with his arms crossed, smoke almost bursting from his ears from how red he looked.
“Move,” he said.
I walked downstairs. Mom was already sitting on the couch, her lips pressed into a thin line. She pointed to the chair across from them.
“Sit down, Avery. We need to talk.”
I recognized her tone. It was one set aside for me- whenever I am in deep trouble.
I sat down and waited. Crossing my right leg over the other.
“What was that display this morning?” She asked
“What display?”
“Don’t play dumb with us,” Dad snapped. “The attitude. The drama. Embarrassing your sister like that.”
“I didn’t embarrass anyone.”
“You most certainly did,” Mom said. Her voice was shaking with anger. “Do you have any idea what you put Ava through?”
“What did I put her through?” I asked, resisting the urge to raise my brows.
“You made her cry in the car,” Dad said. “She thinks you hate her now.”
I almost laughed. Ava crying was most definitely just another performance.
“I don’t hate her.”
“Then why are you acting like this?” Mom leaned forward. “This sudden rebellion, this concerning behavior. Where is this coming from?”
“I’m not rebelling. I’m just making my own choices.”
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“Your own choices?” Dad’s voice rose. “Since when do twelve–year–olds make their own choices about family
events?”
“Since I decided I didn’t want to go to a party where nobody wants me.”
“That’s not true,” Mom said. “Madison invited you.”
“Madison invited Ava. I was just an afterthought.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Am I? Were you there to see her face when Ava asked if I could come?”
Mom and Dad looked at each other.
“Even if that were true,” Dad said, “you still should have gone. To support your sister.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why should I support someone who doesn’t support me?”
“Avery!” Mom’s voice was sharp. “Ava loves you. She’s always loved you.”
“Has she?” I asked, hating the tremble in my own voice.
“Of course she has. You’re twins. You’re best friends.”
“Best friends don’t treat each other the way Ava treats me.”
And how does Ava treat you?” Dad asked.
I looked at them both. Really looked at them. Did they seriously not see it?
“Like I don’t matter.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Mom said.
“Is it? When’s the last time anyone in this family asked what I wanted?”
“We ask what you want all the time.”
“No, you don’t. You ask what Ava wants, then assume I want the same thing.”
“Because you’re twins,” Dad said, like that explained everything.
“So? That doesn’t mean we’re the same person.”
“No one said you were the same person.”
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“Then why do you treat us like we are?” I screamed
Silence.
“The party decorations were pink,” I whispered calmly. “My favorite color is blue.”
“Ava picked the theme,” Mom said weakly.
“Exactly. Ava picked. Did anyone ask me what I wanted?”
More silence.
“The birthday cake was vanilla. I like chocolate. Did anyone ask me what I wanted?”
“You never said anything,” Dad said.
“Because no one ever asks me. You ask Ava, and she decides for both of us.”
“That’s not fair,” Mom said. “Ava always considers your feelings.”
“Does she? Or does she just make choices and expect me to go along with them?”
“You’re twisting everything,” Dad said angrily.
แค
“Think about my birthday party. Every single game we played, Ava won. Every single one. Did you think that was fair?”
“She was just lucky,” Mom said.
“Was she? Or did you make sure she won because you didn’t want her to feel bad?”
“That’s not what happened,” Dad said, but his voice wasn’t as sure now.
“When we played pin the tail on the donkey, my tail was more accurate than hers. But Ava won anyway.”
“It was close,” Mom said.
“It wasn’t close. Mine was in the center. Hers was off to the side. But Ava cried when she thought she might lose, so you changed the rules.”
Neither of them said anything.
“That’s what you always do. Change the rules so Ava doesn’t have to feel bad about anything.”
“We treat you girls equally,” Dad said.
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, we do.”
“Then why did Ava get to go shopping yesterday and I didn’t?”
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Chapter 10
“Because she was tired and needed cheering up.”
“I get tired too. Do I ever get shopping trips?”
“That’s different.”
“How is it different?”
“Ava is more sensitive than you are.”
There it was. The truth they never wanted to say out loud.
“So because I’m not sensitive, I don’t deserve special treatment?”
“It’s not about deserving,” Mom said. “It’s about need.”
“And I don’t have needs?”
“Of course you have needs.”
“Avery,” Dad’s voice was getting dangerous. “I don’t like this attitude.”
“What attitude?”
“This disrespectful, selfish attitude.”
“There’s that word again. Selfish.” I slipped before catching on.
“Because that’s what you’re being.” Dad snapped back.
“How am I being selfish by wanting to be treated fairly?”
“You are treated fairly,” Mom said.
“No, I’m not. And you know it.”
“That’s enough,” Dad stood up. “This conversation is over.”
“Why? Because I’m making too much sense?”
“Because you’re being disrespectful to your parents.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
“The truth according to you.”
“The truth according to reality.”
Mom stood up too. Her face was red with anger.
“Let me make something very clear, young lady. If this attitude continues, there will be consequences.”
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“What kind of consequences?”
“The kind you won’t like.”
“Such as?” I found myself daring.
“No phone privileges. No computer time. No hanging out with your so called new friends.”
I felt my face turn ashen.
“So if I don’t pretend to be happy about being treated like garbage, you’ll punish me?”
“No one is treating you like garbage,” Dad said.
“Then why are you threatening me?”
“We’re not threatening you. We’re setting boundaries.”
“Boundaries for me. But not for Ava.”
“Ava doesn’t need boundaries because Ava doesn’t act like this.”
“Act like what? Like a person with feelings?”
“Act like a spoiled brat,” Mom snapped.
The words hit me like a slap.
“I’m spoiled?”
“Yes.”
“For wanting to be treated the same as my sister?”
“For being ungrateful for everything we’ve given you.”
“What have you given me that you didn’t give her first?”
“We’ve given you a home, food, clothes, love—”
“You’ve given Ava love. You’ve given me leftovers.”
“You know what? Shut it.”
“What?.”
“We don’t have to prove anything to you,” Dad said. “You’re the child. We’re the parents.”
“And that means you can treat me however you want?”
“It means you show us respect.”
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“Respect is earned.”
:.
“Not in this house it isn’t. In this house, respect is given to your parents whether they’ve earned it or not.”
I stared at him. At both of them.
“Got it,” I said quietly.
“Good. Now go to your room and think about your behavior today.”
“Oh, I will.”
I stood up and walked toward the stairs, controlling the strong urge to stomp my feet.
“And Avery?”
I turned around.
“When Ava gets home, you’re going to apologize to her.”
“For what?”
“For hurting her feelings.”
I nodded.
“Sure, Dad. I’ll apologize.”
AD
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
