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Cast Aside: The Genius You Can't Have

Chapter 2

Word Count: 1324 | Released on: Today at 17:14

Perr

vas bag and left early. Inside wer

ecords check, an apostilled transcript, and proof of independent health insurance. I didn't

y reservation desk during the term. Ten dollars an hour, seven weekends. I folded the app

rs, six hours round trip, and I had to

, my mother

craping burnt eggs into the trash. "His hamstring was tight after the scrimm

ent in the city at

tula still in her right hand

what? You don't have

e assistant position," I said without blinking. "I

away. She narrowed her eyes an

is leg, and Craig needs the sedan for a client in Aurora. T

n in gym shorts and a sleev

stop by that sports store on Clark Street and pick up the ankle bra

r paid

ent account to buy textbooks, eighty-f

ee miles from the

drinking from the carton. "My recovery window matters. M

mother said. "Grab your bag and go. Be back

der of the county road before I ca

named Vane looked through my scholarship

directly from the university research fund," she said, stamping a blue r

independent adult applicant. All fund

complete, Miss Perry. Your student visa

that was wet and hot, and my chest was

for Colton's ankle brace with the last twenty in

rs burning from the weight, dust fr

playing a shooter online, the ring o

the coffee tabl

looked, and

ordered the left. You can't

," I said. "The clerk printed the pi

d the box on

ed - wear it backwards and you wreck the ankle when you

f Craig's study with

the sh

he controller on the cushion. "She knows I have the region

er star

saster? Your brother trains his body to collapse every afternoon p

es," I said, looking straight at her face. "There's

martyr. If you don't want to run errands for this family you can move your things to the curb tonight. No

n't a

stairs and into

duation tassel from high school, the ribbon from a fourth-grade scien

e cover of

l undergraduate mathematics competition. A handwritten

once came to an

refused to drive forty minutes to the school auditorium b

told me at breakfast the next morning, buttering toast. "If Colton sta

etal utility sink and tore ea

age bag, on top of the spent lin

I'd taken myself outside auditorium doors. I deleted them one by one. At the seventh I stopped. In that one I was alone,

ted it

accination records, the black

aced in his study

. "Did you take the dry-cleaning ticket off my dresser? I need

m laundry room and list

ched it, Dad,"

d wash Colton's jersey on delicate

I flattened the cardboard and p

ys and my vis

ting his odds at an athletic scholarship, arguing a little over

girl who washed the jerseys and scrubbed the gre

Chapter End

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Cast Aside: The Genius You Can't Have

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“From eighteen on, I worked three jobs. Overnight shifts at a burger place, standing until one in the morning. Trays in the school cafeteria all day, until my wrist swelled too much to hold a pen. The reservation desk at the library, ten dollars an hour, seven weekends of it. The money went home one paycheck at a time: Colton's cleats, the family broadband bill, the four tires on my father's car. I held on year after year because I believed one thing: if I held this family up, there would be a place in it for me. The day my father put the down payment on that house, I had forty-two dollars left in my bank account - everything that remained after I paid for Colton's season gear. Four bedrooms, given to themselves and my two brothers. My father finished counting the doors and slapped his forehead. "Oh - how did we forget you." The fourth room was left over, south-facing bay window, the best light in the house. He said this one was for the two boys to do their homework in - quiet, good light. My mother set up the green folding bed in the laundry room, right next to the water heater. "You're the oldest, Alexa. Be sensible. Your brother needs the space." For thirteen years, what I did in that house was the work of an unpaid maid who got room and board. "You're an adult now. Stop expecting the whole family to revolve around your schedule." I washed my brothers' jerseys. I carried their equipment bags. I slept on concrete. The family desktop was unplugged and hauled away to make room for Blake's shoe rack. The day I graduated first in my class, my father threw my certificate into the trash - that thing wouldn't get you an athletic scholarship. Back then I thought that if I scrubbed enough grease and kept my mouth shut, they would love me someday. In their eyes I was an appliance. So when the email came from Switzerland - a full research scholarship - I didn't say a word. Tuition and housing covered. I hadn't been able to bear leaving home, so I hadn't replied. Over three days I found myself three reasons I couldn't go. I thought each one through carefully. None of them held. On the fourth day I opened the cracked laptop on the laundry-room floor and clicked Accept.”