WonNovels

My sister was beautiful and smart, effortlessly winning everyone’s affection. Next to her, I was just a plain, timid little mouse.

“How can you even compare yourself to your sister?” my parents always said.

“Mia doesn’t look like your sister at all,” my childhood friend, Leo, told me.

“Then what do we look like?” I asked.

He sniffed. “Like a princess and a maid.”

Until I met Julian. While my parents paraded Mia in front of his family, boasting about how exceptional their eldest daughter was, I hovered on the sidelines, eyeing the frosted sugar cookies on the table. But he bypassed everyone else, pulling me into a tight embrace.

“Mine,” he said.

Mia had a delicate heart-shaped face, huge eyes, and porcelain skin. Her lashes were incredibly long, fanning out over her cheeks. Whenever people met her, they’d ask Mom, “Has your kid been in beauty pageants?” Mom would press her lips together in a modest smile. “Oh, no, of course not,” she’d say, looking incredibly proud.

Then I’d call out, “Mom.”

The stranger would look at my utterly ordinary face—nose running, cheeks chapped red from the cold wind—and blink in surprise. “This is your daughter too?”

The corners of Mom’s mouth would immediately drop into a flat, neutral line. “Yes. The younger one.”

“Looks like the older one stole all the nutrition in the womb, huh?” they’d joke.

Mom would laugh along. “Well, the older one is quite capable.”

Mia stole my nutrition. Adults threw the joke around casually, but as a kid, I took it to heart. For a long time, I held a grudge against her. Well, maybe not a long time—just two or three months. Mainly, it manifested in me stealing her fruit. Plump red strawberries, glossy cherries, and pungent, expensive blue cheese. Mom always prepared these high-end snacks specifically for Mia, arranging them on beautiful, large platters. I got whatever scraps were left. After wolfing down my meager portion, the craving would still gnaw at me, so I’d sneak pieces from her bowl.

Eventually, my parents caught me.

Mia burst into tears. “She’s stealing my fruit!” Crying, she looked exactly like the Little Mermaid from an Andersen fairy tale illustration dropping pearl tears—pitiful and adorable.

I stiffened my neck and shot back, “Well, you stole my nutrition when we were in the womb!”

“I did not!” she sobbed.

“Did too! Did too!” I yelled, making faces, my features scrunching up in wild defiance. Next to Mia, I must have looked like a little demon crawling straight out of hell, or some wicked old witch bullying the little princess.

Mom was furious and threatened to ground me. “What nonsense are you talking about? It’s bad enough you’re plain-looking, but do you have to be so vicious, too?”

I scrambled around, dodging her wrath, wailing for mercy. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Mom planted her hands on her hips. “Your sister doesn’t owe you anything. If I catch you stealing her things again, I’m docking your allowance for months.”

Mia didn’t steal my nutrition. Then why was she so pretty while I was so plain? I couldn’t figure it out. Why did Mom and Dad treat her better? Since I couldn't make sense of it, I decided to ask someone else.

Down in the apartment complex’s courtyard, Leo and I sat side by side, splitting a grape Popsicle.

“Do you have a brother?” I asked.

He slurped his half. “Yeah. Why?”

“Does your mom treat him better than you?”

“What do you mean by ‘better’?” He looked at me.

I thought about it. “Like... always passing him the best food at dinner, giving him more fruit, and only signing him up for private tutoring.”

He chewed on that for a second, then shook his head. “No. But... isn't getting out of tutoring a good thing?”

We exchanged a look. “True.”

Mom had signed Mia up for endless extracurriculars: private piano lessons, etiquette classes, public speaking clubs. Every time she went out, she had to wear fancy little dresses and be perfectly groomed. Every second of her free time was packed. I was different. I could run out and play like a wild thing whenever I wanted. While I was building sandcastles with the neighborhood kids, Mia was stuck in a classroom. Tutoring sounded miserable. Thinking about it that way, Mia was actually pretty pitiful.

My resentment vanished, instantly balanced out.

“You have a sister?” Leo asked.

“Yeah.”

He just gave an “oh” and didn't pry further. The only sound left in the air was the two of us slurping our Popsicles.

With my bizarre sense of inner peace restored, I stopped throwing tantrums at home. I even started to pity Mia a little. I could play whenever I wanted and had a whole gang of friends.

One evening, I lost track of time playing with them. By the time I noticed, the sun had long set, and the streetlights flickered on. One by one, anxious, angry, cursing, or gentle parents came and hauled my friends away. Leo was dragged off by his older brother, who grabbed him by the collar. They looked a lot alike, though his brother was much handsomer.

“Head home soon, Chloe,” Leo called back over his shoulder.

The noisy playground fell dead silent. It was just me left. So quiet. I looked up at my building, high in the condominium tower. The living room lights were on. Why hadn't Mom and Dad come looking for me? I kicked a small pebble. If Mia had stayed out this late... well, that was impossible. Mom was always with her, shuttling her to her various classes.

I could have just walked home. But out of some stubborn, misplaced defiance, I refused to move. I squatted down, drawing cats, castles, princesses, and bows in the dirt. The entire sandbox became my canvas.

By the time I covered the ground in doodles, the evening commuters had all returned. Still, no one came looking for me. The streets emptied out. My stomach rumbled. A cold gust of wind rustled the trees, sounding like Halloween ghosts crashing through the branches. My spine stiffened. Too terrified to look back, I bolted.

I sprinted into the lobby, slammed the elevator button, and pounded on my own front door as if monsters were snapping at my heels. Three... two... one more second and they'll get me... I was on the verge of tears.

The door swung open.

Warm white light spilled into the hall, instantly banishing the monsters. I was safe. Mom stood there. She gave a little huff when she saw me. “Where did you run off to? Coming back this late. Your dinner is keeping warm in the oven.”

Still riding the high of surviving my imaginary near-death experience, I just grinned like an idiot. “Thanks, Mom!”

I swapped my shoes, wolfed down my dinner, and plopped onto the sofa next to Mia. She was watching cartoons. It was a detective show about a stolen ruby, with four suspects lined up. One of them had a massive, flat face, beady eyes, and a shifty expression.

“It’s definitely him,” I declared.

Mia glanced at me, barely bothering to acknowledge my existence.

“I bet you,” I pressed. “If I win, you give me half your allowance.”

She ignored me, playing the ice queen. I stared at her, eyes wide, until she finally got annoyed and clicked her tongue. “Reason?”

“He just looks like a bad guy!”

“Oh.” Mia deadpanned. “He looks a lot like you.”

My fury spiked. I was just about to lunge at her when Mom called out, “Mia, time for piano practice.”

Mia’s face immediately fell. She dragged herself toward the piano room, looking utterly miserable. My anger morphed into instant schadenfreude, and I happily turned back to the TV.

“Chloe, turn that off,” Mom commanded. “Your sister is practicing. Don’t distract her.”

“Okay,” I muttered, muting the TV and continuing to watch in silence.

Stupid network. Right when they were about to reveal the real culprit, the screen flashed See You Next Episode. I had to wait a whole week.

My resentment was so potent that even Leo noticed. We were swinging on the playground swings, kicking our legs.

“Who made you mad this time?” he asked.

I ranted about the TV network.

“I think it’s him too,” Leo agreed. “He looks like a giant rat.”

We shared a look of profound solidarity and high-fived. “Best friends!”

“Did your mom yell at you when you got back late last time?” I asked.

His face filled with envy. “No. Your mom is so nice.”

I didn't say anything. Something about that felt incredibly off.

Right then, Mia returned from her extracurricular—probably piano. She was wearing a gorgeous pink tulle dress with sparkly clips in her hair. Mom was holding her hand as they walked in the distance.

“Mom! Mia!” I yelled, waving frantically.

Mom waved back. “Don’t play too late!” she called from afar. Mia glanced over her shoulder before following Mom away.

When I turned back, Leo’s popsicle had dropped into the sand, completely ruined.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Leo’s mouth hung open. He pointed at Mia’s retreating figure. “That’s your sister?”

“Yeah.”

He looked at her, looked at me, then looked at her again. “Are you adopted?”

Anger flared in my chest. “You’re a giant stupid pig!”

“Your sister looks like a princess,” he muttered, still dazed.

Honestly, I thought Mia looked like a princess too, but I absolutely refused to agree with him right now. When I ignored him, he added, “You and your sister don’t look like sisters.”

“What do we look like then?”

He thought about it. “Like a princess and a maid.”

What kind of friend says that? I shoved him. He tumbled into the dirt, getting covered in sand. “Hey, I’m just being honest—”

“Stupid pig!” I yelled, running away. “We’re not friends anymore!”

I was so angry I could cry. When I got home, I ripped up the baseball cards Leo had given me into tiny shreds. He was a stupid pig. We were friends. Even if his brother was way cooler than him, I would never say that to his face.

Confetti-like scraps littered the floor. Mom caught sight of the mess and immediately laid into me. “Chloe! What are you doing now? Throwing trash everywhere! You have no sense of cleanliness at all!”

I argued back while scooping the pieces into the trash can. “Mia spilled soup on the rug last time! Why didn’t you yell at her?”

“That was an accident.”

“Mine was an accident too!” My emotions bubbled over, tears spilling hot and fast. “So when she does it, it’s an accident, but when I do it, it’s on purpose?!”

Mom put her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “Talking back now? Why can’t you learn from your sister? She’s so much better behaved than you. Stop crying, it’s embarrassing.”

“That’s because you never yell at her!”

Mom let out a harsh laugh. “So now it’s our fault?” She moved as if to punish me. I scrambled into my room and slammed the door shut. She didn't follow.

A little while later, the front door clicked shut. Mom had taken Mia out again.

I dug out a small hand mirror, fuming. Did everyone like Mia just because she was pretty? I’m not that ugly, am I?

The mirror reflected a face streaked with tears and snot, smeared with dirt, looking like a miserable, bitter melon. I startled myself and quickly tossed the mirror aside. Then I remembered how Mia looked when she cried—literally like a fairy weeping. It was so unfair. A wave of resentment washed over me. Why did Mom have to make Mia so beautiful?

I felt betrayed by the entire universe. My parents favored Mia, and even my own friend abandoned ship the second he laid eyes on her. I decided I was going to become a cold, ruthless person. I’d make them all regret it!

The next day at school, Leo tried to say hi. I looked straight ahead, pretending he was invisible. Leo intentionally stepped into my path and waved a hand in my face. “Did you go blind?”

“Please do not speak to me,” I said coldly. “We are no longer friends.”

He just laughed. “Are you actually mad? Okay, my bad. Stop being mad at me.” He pulled a small carton of milk out of his backpack. It had European words I didn't recognize printed on it. “Here. My aunt bought this imported milk. It’s super expensive.”

My mouth watered. At home, the good stuff always went to Mia. Just as I reached out to take it, he pulled out a pink bottle with a strawberry on it. “This strawberry one is for your sister.”

My hand snapped back.

Oblivious, Leo kept going. “The strawberry one is sweet. I bet she’ll love it.”

I didn't say a word, just quickened my pace and sidestepped him.

“Chloe! Chloe?” he called after me.

At dinner, I kept a stone-cold expression. I ruthlessly ate my mac and cheese, ruthlessly dumped my plate in the sink, and ruthlessly sat in front of the TV for cartoons. But nobody cared. Mom noticed Mia picking carrots out of her food, but entirely missed my dark, brooding aura. My coldness lasted until the cartoon ended.

The real culprit turned out to be the kindly-looking old grandpa, not the shifty-eyed man! Dammit. My underdog bet failed.

I guiltily glanced at Mia. She scoffed.

My heart bled a little for my wallet. “Fine, a bet is a bet. I’ll give you a few dollars from my allowance—”

“Who wants your few dollars?” she sneered.

I hollered into the kitchen, “I need a raise on my allowance, Mom!”

“Your allowance is perfectly fine for buying snacks,” Mom replied.

“Can’t I even get half of what Mia gets?” I tried whining. “Please, Mom.”

Mom was the real ruthless one. “Your sister plays the piano, gives public speeches, sings, and is on the honor roll. What can you do, Chloe?”

I froze. It was true. I couldn’t do anything. I wasn't enrolled in a single private class.

“That’s...” I mumbled. “That’s because I haven’t learned anything...”

“Do you really think taking a class would magically make you good at it?” Mom’s expression cooled, shutting the conversation down. “Alright, Mia. Time to practice piano.”

The melodious notes drifted from Mia’s dedicated piano room, accompanied by Mom praising her. “Wonderful.”

I stared blankly at the TV screen. The bright colors blurred into chaotic blobs. Watching cartoons was supposed to be one of my favorite things in the world. But right then, I felt incredibly, overwhelmingly sad.

I hid under the covers and cried until the damp, stuffy air lulled me to sleep. The next morning, my eyes were swollen shut. I kept my head down, inhaled my breakfast sandwich, and darted back to my room.

The doorbell rang, and Mom answered it.

“Hello, ma'am! I’m here to see Chloe.” It was Leo.

I had planned on icing him out for another week, but I hadn't expected him to show up at my front door to beg for forgiveness. Relief washed over me, followed by a smug sense of comfort—Mia never had friends come over to play with her. I decided I’d forgive him.

Pressing my hands over my eyes, I tried to make the swelling go down faster. But after a long wait, Leo still hadn't called my name. Instead, there was chatting and laughter coming from the living room.

I cracked my door open and peeked out.

Leo was sitting next to Mia, laughing with an incredibly sycophantic expression, like he was performing stand-up just for her. Mia giggled, which only made Leo grin harder.

What the heck?! I was furious. Forgiveness revoked.

Leo happened to glance my way and gasped. “Chloe, what happened to your eyes?!”

“Uh... mosquito bites,” I mumbled.

Mia burst out laughing. “Doesn't she look like that big-faced suspect from the cartoon? With her eyes all small like that, it’s uncanny.”

Leo paused for a beat, then immediately agreed, “She really does!”

They both cracked up. Absolute humiliation.

“You look like him!” I roared. “You two are the ugliest people in the entire world! Uglier than pigs!”

I slammed the door shut. Muffled whispers drifted from the living room. I pulled out my little mirror and studied my face. I don’t look that much like him... At worst, he’s a giant rat, and I’m a little mouse... Little mice aren't even ugly. They have big eyes and tiny noses and mouths... They’re kind of cute, actually.

I sulked for a bit, then managed to soothe my own ego.

When Leo left, Mom ordered me to walk him down to the lobby. I refused, but Mom snapped, “Don’t be rude.”

I escorted him out with a face like thunder.

Leo shot me sidelong glances. “Chloe...”

“Don’t come back,” I snapped. “And if you do, just say you’re looking for Mia. I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

Leo’s temper flared. “Fine! So what if Mia is prettier than you? I’d rather be friends with her anyway.”

I scoffed, dripping with disdain. “Superficial.”

“You’re the same!” he shot back defensively. “You thought that guy with the big flat face was the bad guy just because he was ugly!”

“You’re the superficial one.” I faltered slightly.

Sensing an opening, he pressed his attack. “You’re definitely just jealous that your sister is prettier than you.” He sounded so sure of himself. “No wonder you never talk about her. Do you bully Mia at home? Haha, Chloe, you’re just like the mean girls in the movies...”

He said it in a joking tone. But in the reflection of the metal elevator doors, his face stretched and distorted, morphing into someone I didn't recognize.

I pressed my lips together so hard they hurt. My eyes stung, but I was too drained to cry. Was I jealous? Maybe. But I had never—not once—said a single bad word about Mia to anyone. Never. Leo was my friend. He knew that. I had never complained about her to him.

“You’re disgusting,” I said.

Leo froze. He turned his head to look at me.

I met his eyes and enunciated every word. “I really regret ever being friends with you. I’m never playing with you again.”

Realizing I was dead serious, Leo flustered, then lashed out in anger. “Like I care! I’ll just be friends with Mia!”

The elevator arrived. As he stepped out, he glared back at me. “Don't regret—”

I slammed the 'Close Door' button.

When I got upstairs, lunch was already on the table. A mountain of food was piled high on Mia’s plate. I quickly swapped my shoes, sat down, and started aggressively snatching bites from the shared dishes.

Mom glared at me. I swallowed a massive bite and immediately started kissing up. “Mom, your roast chicken is amazing!”

“Of course it is.” Mom smiled instantly, then placed another piece of meat on Mia’s plate. “Eat more.”

I pretended not to notice and kept eating.

It didn't matter if my parents loved Mia more. It didn't matter if my friends liked her better. The world was huge. If I just focused on eating, growing up fast, and getting out of here, eventually I’d find someone who liked me a little more.

I never spoke to Leo again. If I saw him in the neighborhood, I treated him like a stranger. He didn't end up hanging out with Mia either, because Mia was always busy. My life went back to normal: school, home, playing on weekends, getting scolded by Mom.

One Saturday afternoon, Mia surprisingly had no piano practice. My parents dressed up, announcing we were going to a dinner party at someone else's house. Mom wrestled Mia into a beautiful little dress, braided her hair, pinned a sparkly tiara on her head, then glanced over at me. “Put on something presentable.”

I dug out a floral short-sleeve shirt I usually saved for special occasions and clipped a bow into my hair. But Mom wasn't looking at me. She and Dad were already holding Mia’s hands, walking out the door.

I trailed behind them, checking my reflection in the elevator doors, giving myself a little mental pep talk. I look pretty cute too.

We arrived at a massive detached mansion in an upscale suburban neighborhood. Through a pristine private garden, Dad chatted with a gentleman while Mom held Mia’s hand, proudly introducing her to an elegant woman.

“This is my daughter, Mia... She plays the piano, does public speaking... Her teachers say she’s incredibly gifted.”

“Hello, ma'am,” Mia greeted sweetly.

The woman smiled and patted her head.

I stood to the side, waiting for Mom to introduce me. But Mom seamlessly pivoted, asking, “And where is your son?”

The woman’s smile faltered slightly, looking a bit strained. “He’s upstairs... He should be down soon. He doesn’t talk much...”

“Perfect! The kids are around the same age, they can play together,” Mom offered cheerfully.

The woman just smiled. Nobody paid any attention to me. I resorted to eyeing the cookies on the coffee table. They were stamped with colorful English words and looked delicious.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the stairs. Someone was coming down. I instinctively looked up.

That was the first time I saw Julian. In my limited worldview, Mia was already beautiful. But Julian was prettier than her. The boy looked like white porcelain kept in a display case—delicate, flawless, exuding an untouchable coldness.

People are naturally drawn to beautiful things. Mom immediately started singing his praises. “He really inherited the best features from both of you.” Even Mia couldn’t help but smile at him.

But I was actively working on fixing my bad habit of judging books by their covers, so I only gave him one glance before forcing my attention back to the cookies.

“Julian,” his mother said, “this is Auntie, this is Mia... and this is...”

I wonder if I can just go over and grab one, I thought. Maybe I should ask the lady first...

Suddenly, a faint, cool scent wrapped around me. I was trapped in a suffocatingly tight hug. Startled, I looked up. The boy’s face was inches from mine. His irises were light, like the palest wash of ink in a watercolor painting.

“...”

“Mine,” he said.

...What? I had never experienced anything like this. My head spun, intoxicated by the clean scent radiating off him. The boy simply held onto me, completely indifferent to the shock rippling through the room.

His mother panicked. “Julian, you’re scaring her. Let go.”

He just tightened his grip. “...No.”

Mom laughed, trying to smooth things over. “Looks like the two of them really hit it off...”

Left with no other option, his mother sighed. “Why don’t you take her upstairs to play?”

He grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs. Trailing behind him, I instinctively glanced back at Mia, wanting to ask if she wanted to come. She was pressing her lips together, looking visibly upset. I kept my mouth shut.

I had never seen so many toys in my life. He had an entire room dedicated to them. Boxes of Legos, a whole wall of model cars. He brought me inside and didn’t say a word.

I picked at my fingernails, trying to be friendly. “What’s your name?”

“Julian.”

“I’m Chloe.”

The boy looked at me, his eyes clear and cold. “Peanut.”

“No, it’s Chloe,” I corrected.

He doubled down. “Peanut.”

What a psycho! I bristled. Who gives someone a nickname five seconds after meeting them? I didn’t care how pretty he was. “Who’s Peanut?”

“A hamster.”

My annoyance flared into outright offense. Did I really look that much like a rodent? “Where is it?”

“In the yard.”

I was determined to see exactly how much I resembled this creature. “Let’s go look at it.”

“...” His impossibly long lashes fluttered downward. “You can’t,” he said softly. “It’s dead.”

I choked on my words. I wanted to comfort him, but Julian just stared at me. He wasn't like my other friends. He was quiet, withdrawn, unsmiling. He probably didn't have any friends. So when he said "mine," he was really just saying I looked like his pet hamster.

For a split second, I actually tracked his weird logic. My heart softened. “Okay. Actually, I am Peanut. I came back to be your friend.”

The boy’s expression instantly twisted into something bizarre, like he was staring at an absolute moron. “Peanut is a hamster. You’re a human.”

I flushed with embarrassment and anger. “You’re the one who called me Peanut first!”

“Is that not allowed?” he asked. “You look a lot like her.”

I pursed my lips. I remembered his mother saying he didn’t talk much. Even though he was rude, weird, and it felt kind of gross being compared to a hamster... he had lost a friend.

“Whatever,” I grumbled.

Julian and I sat on the floor, playing with building blocks. It was my first time playing with such high-quality toys. I built a little house. After a while, I tried to strike up a conversation again. “I can teach you how to build a house. Look, you just take this—”

Julian sat next to me and built a helicopter, a skyscraper, a fire truck...

I just shut up and went back to my little house.

The door clicked open behind us. Mia walked in. Julian didn't even look up; he just kept his eyes on me as I continued building my castle.

Mia marched over, her footsteps heavy, and stood there. I looked up at her. “Do you want to play?”

She ignored me, stealing glances at Julian. Fine. I went back to my castle. Julian still said nothing. The room plunged into an awkward silence. After a few minutes, Mia stomped her foot and marched right back out.

At dinner, my eyes practically sparkled as I scanned the long dining table. Boston lobster! Massive crabs! Ribeyes! I grabbed a piece of meat and started gnawing on it blissfully, reaching out for more.

Suddenly, Mom swatted my hand. I jumped. She shot me a warning glare and hissed, “Manners.”

I ducked my head and started pushing the food around my own plate. Suddenly, a spare rib dropped onto my dish. I blinked, and then another piece appeared. I turned and met Julian’s gaze. He was casually depositing more food onto my plate, piling it into a little mountain. It was my first time ever having a food mountain.

“Eat up, Peanut,” he said.

Before I could even feel touched, I realized he was quite literally treating me like a foraging hamster. The hosts’ expressions turned incredibly strange. My parents looked baffled. And Mia... whose lips had been pressed in a thin line all evening, looked even more displeased. I just kept my head down and shoved food into my mouth.

When it was time to leave, our hosts walked us to the door. The adults were still chatting. “You must come again,” the woman smiled. My parents echoed the sentiment.

Mia pulled a long face, shoved her feet into her shoes, and bolted out the door. Dad and Mom hurriedly said their goodbyes and chased after her. I was still squatting, tying my shoelaces, and desperately tried to speed up. As I reached the door, I remembered my manners and turned around. “Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs...”

The elegant woman smiled at me, brushing her hand over my hair. “Chloe, why don’t you come play with Julian next Saturday?”

I nodded enthusiastically and dashed off to catch up with my family.

I didn't tell my parents about the invitation because Mom rarely paid attention to me on Saturdays anyway. Mia’s schedule was always packed, and taking care of her left no time for me.

Julian rarely spoke. Every time I went over, I’d sit in his playroom messing with his toys while he sat next to me reading a book. Occasionally, I’d babble at him, and we’d exchange a few sentences. Honestly, his toys were just too much fun. I always lost track of time. But as dinner approached, I’d start to panic, terrified that if I got home too late, there wouldn't be any leftovers.

One day, I was so absorbed in building a massive bridge that I didn't realize how late it was until the smell of dinner wafted up from the kitchen. I gasped, jumped to my feet, and ran for the door. “Julian, I gotta go! See you next week!”

His mother caught me in the foyer as I sprinted past. “Chloe?”

“Goodbye, ma'am, I have to go home!”

She grabbed my arm with a warm laugh. “We’ve already made a plate for you. Stay for dinner. The driver will take you home afterward.”

I looked at the kitchen, where the incredible smells were coming from, then back at the door, hesitating. “But my mom and dad...”

She patted my head. “I’ll call them and let them know.”

I instantly surrendered to the temptation of good food. “Thank you, ma'am!”

Belly round and full, I patted my stomach in pure satisfaction. The driver dropped me off right in front of my apartment building. To my shock, both Mom and Dad were waiting for me in the lobby.

I pushed open the car door. “Mom! Dad!”

They walked over, casually ruffling my hair, and smiled at the woman inside the car. “Thank you so much... We had no idea Chloe was coming over so often... Sorry for the trouble.”

His mother smiled gently. “Chloe is a delight. The kids get along so well, and Julian loves having her around.”

I got complimented! I felt a rush of pride.

She turned to me. “Come again next week, Chloe.”

“I will!”

As the car drove away, Dad patted my head, and Mom looked down at me, beaming. “Chloe, Dad will drive you over next week.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

They seemed genuinely thrilled. Later, when Mom handed out strawberries, my bowl actually had just as many as Mia’s. But Mia wasn't thrilled. She glared at the strawberries in my bowl, then glared at me.

“Eat up, Chloe,” Mom urged. “They’re very sweet.”

I picked one up and popped it in my mouth. It was sweet. In the past, I would always finish mine and immediately crave the ones in Mia’s bowl, silently swearing that next time, I’d make Mom give me more. But Mia’s bowl was always fuller.

“...” The sugary juice burst over my tongue. I finally got what I wanted. But for some reason, I wasn't as happy as I thought I’d be.

Saturday rolled around, and Dad kept his word and drove me. Except Mia was in the car, too.

I jumped. “What are you doing here?”

She let out a sharp scoff.

Dad kept his eyes on the road. “Chloe, Mia is always busy with her classes, she doesn’t really have many friends. The three of you can play together. You’re the bridge—make sure you look out for your sister.”

“But...” I pouted. “Plenty of people want to be her friend.” Leo, for example.

“Oh, come on,” Dad brushed me off. “Julian plays the piano, right? Mia plays too. They’ll definitely have a lot to talk about. The more the merrier!”

I stared out the window at the blurred city streets. But he’s my friend, I wanted to argue. Then I thought of Leo. What if... what if Julian wanted to be Mia’s friend too? Even though he was quiet and anti-social, he was really smart. Mia was smart, too. What if they really did hit it off?

I was in low spirits all the way out of the car. Dad checked to make sure the homeowners weren’t around, told us he’d pick us up later, and drove off. I trudged upstairs to the playroom out of pure muscle memory. Mia trailed behind me.

Julian was sitting on the rug, reading. He didn't even look up when I walked in. He only shifted over to sit next to me when I settled down in front of the building blocks. Mia sat down next to him.

Unlike last time, she didn't just storm out. She initiated the conversation. “What are you reading?” Her voice was crisp and sweet, like biting into a fresh peach.

I fiddled with my blocks, holding my breath to listen.

“A science encyclopedia,” Julian replied.

Mia let out an impressed “Wow! Want to read it together?”

“No.”

“...” She choked on her words for a second, then pivoted. “You play the piano?”

“Yes.”

“Me too!” Mia smiled, her eyes curving into perfect little crescents. “What level are you?”

“Never took the test.”

“...Well, can you play Beethoven’s Pathétique?”

“Yes.”

“That’s perfect! I can play it too. Do you want to try playing a duet?”

I stole a glance at her. Mia batted her eyelashes, looking incredibly charming and cute. I didn't even know how to read sheet music. Defeated, I pretended I was deaf, gripping a single Lego block but unable to snap it into place.

“Don’t want to,” Julian said.

Mia’s smile shattered. I figured she had never dealt with anyone as socially defective as Julian. I gave him a pass because he talked to me the exact same way, but Mia had grown up surrounded by people fawning over her. The whiplash must have been severe.

An eerie silence smothered the room.

Then, Julian asked, “Do you play the piano?”

“Huh?” It took me a second to realize he was talking to me. “No.”

Mia immediately pounced on the opening. “She hasn’t learned how to do anything. Of course she doesn't know how to play. Whenever she has a day off, she’s out running wild, and she always drags out her homework. She tanked her last exam because she’s so careless—”

My face flushed hot red. “Why are you bringing that up...”

Mia was acting weird today. She kept looking at Julian, as if trying to forge a bond with him over a shared disdain for me.

Julian just offered a noncommittal “Hmm,” and looked back at me. “What can you do?”

“She can’t do anything!” Mia interrupted.

“I can too!” I snapped back. Mom had said the exact same thing to me before, and I had cried under my covers until my eyes burned and my head throbbed. I had to comfort myself, so I spent a lot of time thinking about it. “I can do cat's cradle! I can make a butterfly and a star. And I’m good at telling stories. Last time Mrs. Miller downstairs asked me to watch her toddler, I told eight or nine stories in a row! And I can also—”

The more I listed, the more confident I felt.

Mia let out a harsh, mocking laugh. I glared at her. She opened her mouth to shoot me down again.

“That’s amazing,” Julian cut in, his voice perfectly flat. “I don't know how to do any of those things.”

Mia left in a fit of rage that day and never set foot in Julian’s house again. But I went back every single weekend. Honestly, a big part of why I liked Julian was because he had so many cool toys. Even though he rarely spoke, playing with his things meant I felt obligated to take responsibility for him. His mom said he was quiet and had no friends. But really, no matter what nonsense I babbled, he always responded. I officially categorized him as a "Good Friend."

One afternoon, walking back into my neighborhood from Julian’s, I spotted Leo swinging slowly by himself at the park. I pretended not to see him and tried to detour around the other side.

“Chloe!” he yelled.

I kept walking, picking up the pace. He jumped off the swing, ran over, and grabbed my sleeve. I yanked my arm away and glared at him. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, his lips pressed tight, saying nothing. We just stared at each other in a standoff. I turned to leave again.

“Hey!” He grabbed me again, dropping his voice. “Where... where have you been lately? I looked for you in the courtyard but never saw you.” He couldn't quite meet my eyes, shifting his weight. “Look, didn’t we say we were gonna hang out? You said you’d help me pick out a present for my brother... What have you been doing? You completely disappear every weekend!”

He was talking fast, trying to sound casual, clearly hoping to gloss over the fact that we had permanently severed ties.

“Why are you looking for me?”

Leo’s face turned bright red. “You know why!” he snapped, embarrassed. “Is it really necessary to stay mad for this long? I know I was wrong... I shouldn't have said that about you, and I shouldn't have...”

He trailed off, reaching into the pocket of his hoodie, and shoved a row of strawberry-flavored milk cartons into my hands. “This is my last pack. I saved it... Just take it, okay? Can you stop being mad at me?”

The packaging was still warm from his body heat. I looked down at the milk. We had fought plenty of times in the past, but I was always the one to apologize first. I used to think it wasn't a big deal—friends fight, then they make up. I was always more terrified of losing a friend than I was of losing face. I didn't have much to begin with, so everyone who stayed by my side was precious.

“I’m not mad anymore,” I said.

His eyes instantly lit up. “Then come over to my house tomorrow! I got a new game cartridge—”

I shook my head and handed the milk back. “But I don't want to be friends anymore either.”

He froze, a flash of panic crossing his face. He opened his mouth to argue, but I just turned and walked toward my building.

The wind against my face felt a little cool. Friends were precious, yes. But my genuine feelings were precious, too. I knew that in the eyes of others, my feelings might seem trivial or insignificant. But that was exactly why I had to protect them myself. I wasn't giving him a second chance.

After that, I’d occasionally bump into Leo around the neighborhood. Whenever he tried to talk to me, I just looked away and kept walking. At first, he tried to stop me, but after getting shut down enough times, he resorted to just watching me from a distance.

Time kept pushing us forward. I grew up. Mia grew up to be even more stunning, always at the top of her class, the quintessential "perfect child" teachers loved to brag about. I stretched out, got taller, and lost my baby fat—though I was still miles away from "pretty." But I stopped staring at the strawberries in her bowl. I made my own friends.

And every weekend, without fail, I went to Julian’s house. Slowly, the building blocks and model cars were replaced by stacks of workbooks and study guides. We’d sit side by side at the massive desk in his room, doing our own homework.

As Julian grew older, he stopped calling me "Peanut." I only realized much later that he had seamlessly transitioned to calling me "Chloe." When I acted shocked about it, he just looked completely unbothered.

The boy had hit a massive growth spurt and was now a full head taller than me. His childhood quietness had hardened into a stoic, unapproachable aura, turning him into the icy "it boy" of his school.

One afternoon, while digging through his backpack for a pen, he pulled out four or five scented pink envelopes.

I gasped, more excited than him. “Love letters?!”

He gave a noncommittal “Hmm,” tossed them aside without a second glance, and pulled out his AP Calculus practice test.

I kept talking while I did my homework. “Let me tell you... two people in my class just started dating... Someone saw them holding hands after school. I knew there was a reason she kept bringing him Gatorade...” Teenagers and their first crushes. Those of us not in relationships were always ten times more invested than the people actually dating.

“Oh, right, my sister. Remember her? The really pretty one... Guys confess to her all the time.” Mia was legendary at our school. When I first started as a freshman, people would ask, “Chloe, how do you know Mia?” I’d say, “She’s my sister,” and they’d instantly become my best friend. When they realized Mia and I rarely interacted, they inevitably drifted away. Some guys even tried to walk me home, purely as an excuse to talk to her. I was used to it; it was just a funny anecdote to me now.

Julian tapped my textbook with the back of his pen. “Wrong answer. You didn't convert the units.”

I hurriedly scrubbed it out with my eraser. “Mom actually had to sit her down and tell her absolutely no dating.”

He turned his head to look at me. The boy’s eyelashes were ridiculously long, his skin a cool, jade-like white that seemed to practically glow under the desk lamp. His eyes were mesmerizing. I met his gaze, and even after years of friendship, the point-blank exposure to his face still felt like a critical hit.

“Jesus,” I muttered. “You’re so pretty.”

Julian: “...” He looked back down at his test.

I went back to my work too, but in my head, I was thinking: Befriending Julian as a kid was the best investment I ever made.

Toward the end of the year, my parents invited Julian’s family out to a fancy restaurant. Before we left, Mom gave her usual mandate: "Dress presentably."

Mia wore a stunning dress. I bundled up in thick, shapeless layers. Seeing the bare sliver of her legs under the skirt, I asked in shock, “Aren't you freezing?”

She adjusted her hair in the hallway mirror and shot me a disdainful look through the glass. “It’s called sheer fleece-lined tights, you peasant.”

I rubbed my hands together. She looked me up and down and smirked. “You’re wearing that?”

“This is what I wear every time I go to his house,” I said honestly.

Mia choked, then glared at me. “Don’t go thinking he actually likes you. You look entirely average, and you’re always hanging around him like a stray dog. Have some self-awareness. He only pities you as a friend.”

I frowned. “We are friends.” What else would we be?

She rolled her eyes and walked away.

The dinner was held in a private dining room at a chic French restaurant downtown. Mia effortlessly slipped into the seat between my mom and Julian’s mom, keeping her back pin-straight, her smile perfectly sweet. As soon as I sat down, Julian naturally took the seat next to me and politely greeted my parents. He’s getting better at acting human as he gets older, I noted approvingly.

The adults exchanged pleasantries, and the conversation predictably drifted to the kids. Mom, true to form, launched into her "Mia's Greatest Achievements" PowerPoint presentation. She covered everything from her latest mock exam rankings to a state-level debate trophy, to her dream high schools, talking endlessly. Julian’s parents maintained polite, engaged smiles, nodding along.

Mom turned to Julian, asking about his high school plans. “Sacred Heart Preparatory,” he replied smoothly.

“What a coincidence!” Mom gasped in delight. “Our Mia is applying to Sacred Heart too, though we’re just praying she makes it into the AP Honors track. If you two end up at the same school, you can look out for each other.” She then asked about his recent exam scores. Upon hearing a jaw-dropping number, Mom immediately pivoted. “Mia really needs to push herself harder. She was a dozen points short in math this time... Ah, she’ll really have to work hard in high school. Math has always been her weak point...”

Julian’s mother had been smiling and listening the whole time, but suddenly she turned to me, her voice gentle. “What about you, Chloe? Where do you want to go for high school?”

My grades hovered securely in the middle of the pack, occasionally spiking near the top on a good day. I grinned sheepishly. “Depends on my SSAT scores. Just doing my best.”

Mom shot me a sharp look. “This child has zero ambition. Not like Mia, whose goals are always clear. She’s dead set on Sacred Heart.”

Julian’s mom just laughed softly. “I think Chloe is wonderful exactly as she is. Grounded, optimistic. Honestly, as long as the kids are happy and healthy, that’s all that matters.”

Mom choked on the rebuttal, her smile turning brittle. She took a sip of water and completely abandoned the topic.

After dinner, the adults were deep in conversation, jumping from education to business investments. The heating in the private room mixed with the heavy scent of food, making me drowsy. Having eaten my fill and feeling suffocated, I whispered, “I’m gonna get some fresh air.”

Nobody noticed. I quietly pushed my chair back and slipped out.

Outside the restaurant, the sharp winter wind hit my face. Luckily, I was bundled up like a marshmallow, so I wasn't cold. A few minutes later, soft footsteps approached. Julian stopped beside me. He wasn't wearing much. He had grown tall and broad-shouldered. The wind ruffled his dark hair, and under the mix of distant neon lights and the warm streetlamp above, his profile looked absurdly cinematic. It literally looked like a close-up shot from a teen movie, complete with dramatic studio lighting. Truly Hollywood treatment.

I was just about to compliment his lighting when the restaurant door opened again. It was Mia.

It was freezing out, and she was dressed entirely too thin for the weather. Her nose and cheeks rapidly turned a harsh, flushed red. A layer of moisture gathered in her eyes, catching the light beautifully. She didn't look at me; her eyes were locked onto Julian. She bit her lip lightly, as if steeling herself, before calling out hesitantly, “Julian.”

Julian looked at her, his expression entirely blank. “What?”

The girl’s fragile silhouette trembled in the night wind. Mia sniffled, straightened her spine, and met his gaze head-on. Her voice trembled in the cold, but carried a stubborn clarity. “The high school entrance exams... I’m definitely going to beat your score.”

It sounded like a declaration of war. But in those tear-filled, shimmering eyes, I saw something else entirely. The anticipation, the nervous flutter, the unmistakable symptoms of a teenage crush. The overachiever, the academic rival, the gorgeous boy and girl. In my head, a complete script for a teen romance drama instantly materialized.

This was intensely awkward. I quietly shuffled to the side, trying to blend into the brick wall.

Then, I heard Julian’s utterly deadpan voice, slightly scattered by the wind. “Oh.”

Just one syllable.

Mia’s face flushed violently, then drained of all color. But she couldn't formulate a single word in response. She bit her lower lip so hard the tears welling in her eyes threatened to spill over. Spinning on her heel, she yanked the door open and fled back inside.

I felt like I had just witnessed the opening scene of a romantic drama, but the male lead clearly hadn't read the script... I rubbed my hands together awkwardly.

Julian turned his head to look at me. “Are you cold?”

Still aggressively rubbing my hands together like a fly, I shook my head. “Nope.”

Our eyes met. The boy’s irises were as clear as a frozen lake under the night sky. Suddenly, he reached out, enveloping both of my hands in his. His palms were warm and dry, his fingers long and distinctly jointed, with slight calluses from holding a pen. They completely swallowed my hands.

“You’re freezing,” he stated matter-of-factly.

I jumped out of my skin. This guy was terrifying! When did he organically learn how to flirt?! I stared at him like he was an alien.

But his expression was perfectly normal. He even frowned slightly, looking genuinely confused as to why my hands were so cold.

I understood instantly. His emotional intelligence developed on a massive delay. In matters of the heart, he was operating at the level of an adult hamster. He probably still looked at me the exact same way he looked at "Peanut."

Yeah. That tracked.

The summer the high school acceptance letters arrived was blistering hot. On result day, the tension in the house was palpable. Mia checked hers first. The score was incredibly high, securing her a spot at Sacred Heart Preparatory.

Mom was ecstatic, showering her with praise, and Dad was beaming. Mia’s face lit up with a victorious smile, before casually trying to sound nonchalant. “Mom, what did Julian get? Do you know?”

Mom had already gotten the intel from Julian’s mother and rattled off an astronomically high number.

Mia’s smile tightened. She pressed her lips together, a mix of frustration and stubbornness crossing her face. “I’ll definitely beat him next time.”

“That’s the spirit!” Dad cheered.

They hovered around Mia, discussing cutoff scores and her placement in the AP Honors program, laughing and chatting.

I sat off to the side, refreshing the webpage on my laptop. I was actually a little nervous.

Noticing my anxiety, Mia tilted her chin up. “What did you get, Chloe?”

The page finally loaded. I stared at the number, blinked, and frantically cross-referenced it with the acceptance cutoff line. “It looks like... I got into Sacred Heart too.”

The celebration in the room ground to a halt. Mom walked over, squinting at my screen, verifying it three times. “Really? That is cutting it so close... You barely scraped by. Pure luck.”

I just grinned like an idiot.

The triumphant smile still lingering on Mia’s face rapidly dissolved into something much colder.

High school was busier than I expected. Unsurprisingly, Mia was placed in the AP track and instantly became the school’s golden girl. By the first semester, she was a front-runner for Homecoming Queen, hosting pep rallies, and constantly glowing in the spotlight.

Julian was in a completely different building, fast-tracked into the STEM Honors program. His name floated through the halls constantly—"that gorgeous math genius," "I heard his test scores broke the curve," "He’s so cold, though."

My life was much simpler. I went to class, did my homework, and gossiped with my desk mate. Julian and I saw each other way less. Our schedules were wildly out of sync, and we only occasionally passed each other in the courtyard. I still went to his house on weekends to steal his snacks and make him help me with my math.

By junior year, the workload cranked up. Julian’s parents hired a private driver to take him to and from school, and they offered to pick me up on the way.

The first morning, I pulled open the car door. Julian was already in the back seat. He nodded at me, then immediately tilted his head back to sleep. I slid in beside him and naturally started ranting about how impossible the math homework was, and how I couldn't stop nodding off in physics. He offered groggy, monosyllabic responses.

Mia got in a minute later. She glanced at the two of us in the back, hesitated, and then got into the passenger seat. The drive was mostly quiet, punctuated only by my complaints and his quiet hums. Mia sat up front, back perfectly straight, never looking back.

Right before we pulled up to the school, Julian leaned over and handed me a brown paper bag. I peeked inside: an iced latte and a muffin.

“Whoa, thanks!” I said, thrilled.

“Now you don’t have to wait in line at the cafeteria between classes,” he said.

I hopped out. Mia followed, slamming the car door surprisingly hard.

The next day, Mia was ready before me. The moment I walked out the door, I saw her pull open the back door and slide in next to Julian.

I paused, then opened the front passenger door. Buckling up, the silence in the car was deafening. The engine purred. Mia was the first to speak, her voice bright and conversational. “Do you guys have another Honors exam today?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it hard?”

“It’s fine.”

“...” The conversation died a brutal, agonizing death. The air in the car felt thick enough to choke on. I stared out the window, reminding myself I absolutely could not fall asleep in physics again.

Just before I got out, Julian leaned all the way over the center console and handed me another paper bag. Today’s menu: an iced Americano and macarons.

“Thanks!” I hopped out.

This time, Mia slammed her door so hard the car physically shook.

On the third day, Mia walked straight to the passenger door without a word. She never tried sitting in the back again.

My high school experience was actually great. The classes were harder, but my mindset was bulletproof. I knew I wasn't a natural g