They Took My Savings, MIT Took Me
Juniper Marlow · Completed · 7.2k Words
Introduction
It was my eighteenth birthday too. Nobody brought it up. I stood in the doorway in my diner uniform while the whole room sang her name.
That night the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate her. The car only sat four, so my father handed me a hundred dollars and told me to order myself something at home.
Four days later, six thousand four hundred dollars vanished from my account. Two years of washing dishes, gone to her sorority dues. My mother's name was on the account, so it wasn't even illegal.
I didn't scream and I didn't beg. I went upstairs and clicked Accept on the full ride to MIT that had been sitting in my inbox for three days.
Nobody in that house ever wanted me. So I booked a one-way ticket, cut myself out of the family photo, and left my key on the shoe rack.
I wasn't coming back. Not for graduation. Not for any of them.
Chapter 1
The day college decisions came out, everyone in the house was circling my twin sister, Tatum.
Mom had her phone up, recording. Dad stood by the couch clapping. My brother Beckett let out a whistle.
There was a three-tier cake in the middle of the living room. Tatum ran across the top in frosting, with a smaller line under it: NYU 2029.
"I actually did it." Tatum had both hands over her face. When she looked up, her eyes were red.
"Of course you did." Mom shoved her phone at Beckett and went over to hug her. "I never doubted you for a second."
I was standing in the doorway, still in my uniform from Dot's, a sauce stain on the apron I hadn't gotten out, a box of leftover pasta from work in my hand.
Nobody turned around.
Everett was crouched by the coffee table, working the ribbon off a gift box for Tatum. He lived three houses down at the end of our street. We'd been together since we were fourteen.
He looked up and saw me. There was half a second where he stopped.
"You're back."
Then he went back to the ribbon.
Mom started the birthday song. When it got to the name, the whole room sang Tatum.
We were born on the same day. I came out twenty minutes ahead of her.
The candles were halfway down when Mom clapped her hands. "Roland. The car."
Dad grinned until his eyes disappeared. "Come with me."
Everyone headed for the garage. The door was only halfway up when Tatum started screaming.
A white Porsche with a big pink bow on the hood.
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" She threw her arms around Dad's neck. "Dad, how are you this good to me?"
"My daughter's going to New York. She can't be riding the subway."
Beckett patted the roof. "I picked the color. What do you think?"
The four of them stood in a circle around it. There was no room left in the garage, so I stayed in the doorway.
Tatum leaned out of the driver's seat and spotted me.
"Sis!" She waved me over. "Did you check yours yet?"
"I checked."
"And?"
I didn't answer.
"Hey, it's okay. Really." She reached over and patted the back of my hand. "Community college is great. It's close to home, and you save so much money. Don't be hard on yourself. Not everyone gets in on the first try, you know?"
Beckett leaned against the car door, laughing. "Check? What's there to check? Scores came out three days ago and she hasn't said a word. She got shut out everywhere."
He looked me up and down.
"You sit in that room every night reading till midnight. What has it gotten you? Tatum's cheer captain, she's on the prom committee, and she still had time to get into NYU. Being slow is one thing. You can't even get along with people."
"That's enough, Beckett." Everett came up from behind. "Today's Tatum's day."
Then he turned and looked at me.
"Marlowe, could you not make that face? Tatum's been waiting on this letter for most of a year. If you can't be happy for her, at least don't stand here bringing everybody down."
Mrs. Ashby heard the noise from next door and came over with a tray of brownies. She admired the car first, then said what a credit Tatum was to the family.
When she ran out of things to say, she looked over at me.
"Aren't your girls twins? So it's both their birthdays today. How did Marlowe do with her applications?"
Mom's smile froze for half a second.
"She's not like Tatum," Mom said, waving it off. "Tatum has known what she wanted since she was little. We hired a consultant and planned the whole thing out. Marlowe just isn't built for that, so we don't push her."
The consultant cost a hundred thousand dollars. Starting when Tatum was sixteen, she picked her classes, her competitions, her volunteer work. She rewrote Tatum's essay seven times.
When I asked for one SAT prep book, Mom said there wasn't money lying around.
Mrs. Ashby said "oh," looked at me one more time, and let it drop.
Everyone went back inside. The first slice of cake went to Tatum. The second went to Dad.
Mom pushed the third plate into my hands. "Hold it flat. Don't drop it."
It was for Beckett.
At eight thirty they were leaving for Marchetti's.
"We're taking Tatum out tonight, and your mom and I need to talk through this sorority thing." Dad pulled a hundred out of his wallet. "There's no room for five in the car. Order yourself something."
"I'm not hungry."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Beckett turned on me right away. "Your sister gets into college and you're jealous? Everyone in this house is happy except you. You walk around with that face all day. It's exhausting."
Dad set the bill down on the coffee table.
"Take it. So you can't turn around later and say we shortchanged you."
The four of them put their shoes on and left. Tatum's heels knocked twice on the porch. The door shut, and the house went quiet all at once.
I went upstairs, closed my door, and opened my laptop.
The email had been sitting in my inbox for three days. It was from MIT.
Dear Marlowe Kessler, Congratulations!
Physics. Full scholarship. Tuition, housing, books, insurance, all of it covered, plus a research assistant spot in a lab.
I'd read it maybe ten times in those three days, and I still hadn't clicked the button at the bottom.
When Tatum asked me about my results out in the garage, I ran the whole thing through in my head first. Mom would ask where the school was, then how much it cost, then say we'd figure it out once Tatum was settled. Beckett would ask if MIT was that tech place and what a girl was supposed to do with a degree like that. Dad would nod and say that's nice, then turn and ask Tatum what she wanted for dessert.
So I didn't say anything.
I clicked Accept.
A little after eleven, they came home. Mom called up from the living room.
"Marlowe! Get down here and clean up! It's your sister's birthday and you're up there playing dead!"
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