I had worked three jobs for that acceptance. I had cleaned offices at night, tutored rich kids who called me \u201cthe scholarship girl,\u201d and saved every tip from the diner in a coffee can under my bed. Ellison was my way out of that dining room, out of my mother\u2019s tight little sighs and my father\u2019s favorite sentence: \u201cWhy can\u2019t you be more like Brandon?\u201d
I looked at him. \u201cWhy would I sign this?\u201d
Dad\u2019s jaw tightened once. \u201cBecause family comes first.\u201d
That meant Brandon came first.
Mom finally lifted her eyes. \u201cYour brother is under enough stress. You embarrassed him at church. You accused him of something awful.\u201d
\u201cHe sold my laptop,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd my camera. I found the pawn slips in his truck.\u201d
Brandon laughed softly. \u201cThere she goes again. Always dramatic.\u201d
Dad slammed the table so hard the glasses jumped. \u201cYou will apologize to your brother tonight, or we cut off your education. No tuition help. No co-signed housing. No car. Nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n