Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
I shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I can walk to work, take the bus, or catch a ride from Tiffany after a long shift. Truth is, most of my driving consisted of taking you to and from practice and your volunteer shifts at the hospital, so I don’t need—”
“You don’t need a car anymore because you made me your whole life!” She slammed the keys down, making me jump. “Dammit, Char!”
My eyes popped seeing hers fill. “Dora? D, what’s wrong? Why are you upset?”
“Why am I upset?” She goggled at me. “I’m upset because you were supposed to be the one driving off in your new car to your first-choice university. You were that one until you had to drop everything, give up your place at NYU, and come home to look after me.
“You spent the last four years scrimping and saving to send me to college, and now you’re going to spend another digging yourself out of debt—and you’ll do it without a car!”
“Debt?” I forced a laugh. “I’m not in—”
“Save it,” she snapped. “I know you hide the bills behind the mint chocolate chip cookies in the pantry. Just because I hate mint chocolate doesn’t mean I don’t have you figured out.” Her face crumpled. “Char, you had your own life and your own plans before... before,” she finished. “How do you think it makes me feel watching you give all that up for me?”
Smile fading, I leaned forward and laid my hand on top of hers. “You should feel like you were the kid and I was your guardian, and that was my job. To put you first.”
“But—”
“No, Dora, enough.” I squeezed her fingers. “I made the choices I did of my own free will. No one forced me. No one shamed me. I had the choice to stay in school and let you get taken into care, or come back home and be there for you when you needed me the most. In the end, it wasn’t a choice at all,” I whispered. “I lost Mom and Dad too, sis, but I was lucky, because when they left, they didn’t leave me alone.
“They gave me this home,” I said, gazing at our perfect little fantasy brought to life, “and you. What kind of dumbass would I be to give up the two best gifts they ever gave me, for a dusty old school that’s not going anywhere?” I flicked her wet nose. “I will go back to school, Dora. I’ll get my degree. I’ll become the kind of lawyer Mom and Dad wanted to be—one who helps people in their darkest moments. And I’ll do all of that knowing I made Mom proud. I became the butterfly she knew I would be.”
Adora looked away, sniffling. “You always do that. I start out mad at you, but then you know exactly what to say to make me forget why I was even mad in the first place.
“But not this time.”
I blinked. What?
“What?” I said aloud. “What do you mean?”
“I was the kid, and you were the guardian,” she confessed. “The big sister. You had to make the hard choices, because all the hard choices fell on you. But if you could do that at eighteen, I can too.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means thank you, sis, really, but I don’t want the car.” She slid the keys across the table. “You’re the one with the job. You’re the one with a pile of house bills. You need a car more than me. But I’m going to help you out with that because”—she shot up straight in her seat—“I’m going to get a job too.”
“No,” I replied without hesitation. “You’re going to Johns Hopkins, D. It’s not the kind of school where you can work all day, party all night, and then puke your way into class the next morning. You need to give it your full attention. You—”
“I’m not asking your permission, Char.” She folded her arms, fixing her chin in the same stubborn way Mom would. “Mom and Dad left the house to both of us. Now that I’m an adult, I can kick in money to cover my share.”
“Your share?” I cried. “You won’t even be living here! Why would I let you compromise your studies just to pay for a house that’s over seven hundred miles away?”
“Well, I— You—” I had her there. “Well, you have to let me do something! If I can’t help you with the house, then I’ll... I’ll... I’ll pay for school myself,” she pounced.
I was already shaking my head before she found the end of her sentence. “You have a college fund, Dora. That’s taken care of.”
“You can use it. Take the money to pay off the bills and then—”
“No.” My face and tone were serious. “Mom and Dad started that fund for you when you were born. I’ve been adding to it, yes, but the bulk of it came from them. I’m not touching a cent of the money they left for you, Dora. And I’m not arguing about it either,” I stated when her lips parted to argue.