Chapter 2

The next day, I went to the bank to apply for a student loan.

The girl behind the counter tapped on her keyboard a few times, then looked up at me. "We can't process this for you," she said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Your credit report shows a negative record. One of your credit cards has been overdue for half a year," she replied.

I stood outside the bank, the sun blazing down so hard it made my head spin.

When I got home, Isabelle was cooking in the kitchen. Emily was in the living room, watching TV and taking pictures of her Cartier bracelet with her phone.

I walked into the kitchen. "Mom, the bank said I can't get the loan," I said.

She didn't even turn around, "Oh."

"I can't go to college now," I said.

She spun around, waving the spatula right in my face, "And whose fault is that? You didn't try hard enough and got that score. Who told you to pick a school so far away?"

"Isn't a 1500 on the SAT enough?" I asked.

"Enough? Emily goes to a school right here in town. How convenient is that? But you had to pick somewhere far off. What for? Who's supposed to look after you when you're out there on your own?" she shot back.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Turns out, to her, scoring a 1500 was a mistake. Even doing well was wrong. Wanting to leave home for college? That was wrong too.

That night, my Dad Ethan Carter knocked on my door. He slipped me an envelope,"six hundred dollars," he whispered. "Take it for now."

"Dad, six hundred dollars isn't enough for tuition," I said.

"I know," He couldn't meet my eyes. "Take it for now. I'll figure something out."

I clutched the envelope, wanting to say thanks, but my throat was tight and the words wouldn't come. That night, I couldn't sleep.

When I got up for the bathroom in the middle of the night, I heard Isabelle talking on the phone in the living room.

She kept her voice low, but I could hear everything. "Yeah, it's all set. Her credit's shot now, so she won't be able to go far.

"She'll have to stay close, go to school and work right here, so she can take care of me when I'm old."

I stood there in the dark, barefoot, the floor cold beneath my feet.

Isabelle said she wasn't playing favorites. But she'd already decided where I'd end up working, and whether I'd ever get to leave town.

This was more than favoritism. This was straight-up scheming.

The next day, I went to a coffee shop to look for a job.

The manager glanced at me. "Are you eighteen?"

"Just turned eighteen," I replied.

"Alright, 5 dollars an hour, twelve hours a day. You up for it?"

"Yeah, I can do it."

Summer break started.

Emily updated her social media every day: Coral Bay, beaches, coconuts, and that Cartier watch.

Her caption read: [Graduation trip from Isabelle. Love you, Isabelle.]

I was in the back of the coffee shop, washing cups. My phone was on the shelf, and I scrolled past her post and kept washing.

At the end of the month, when I got paid, I had an extra 1,200 dollars in my account. It was the first time I'd ever earned money on my own.

On my way home, I did the math in my head. If I work both months of summer break, I can save over 2,300 dollars.

Add the 670 dollars Ethan gave me, and if I borrow a little more, maybe I’ll have enough for tuition, I figured.

That night at dinner, I finally worked up the nerve to speak up. "Mom, I've saved up some money from my job, but I'm still a bit short for tuition. Can you help me out?" I asked.

Isabelle's hand froze with her fork in mid-air. "Help you out? What do you want me to do?" she replied.

"Could you ask our relatives if we could borrow some money?" I suggested.

She slammed her fork down on the table.

"Borrow money? What about my pride? Raising a daughter for college and still needing to ask people for money. How am I supposed to face anyone?" she snapped.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Figure it out yourself. Didn't you say you can work? Then keep working."

Emily spoke up softly from the side. "Sophie, don't blame mom. She's got it tough too."

I didn't say anything. The next day, I went to see Grace.

When I finished talking, Grace's eyes welled up with tears. "Sophie, your mom..." she paused, let out a sigh, and said, "I'll lend you 1,000 dollars. Keep it between us."

I clutched the 1,000 dollars, my eyes stinging with tears.