“What’s wrong?” Dad braces an arm on the counter, bending down to peer at me and the dog.
“Nothing,” I mumble.
“Come on. I know you like to crawl in there with Hammy when something upsets you. What happened?”
When I take too long to answer, he sighs and gives me space, ambling around behind the bar. He cleans glassware and serves the few patrons perched on stools.
Huffing, I stroke Hammy’s soft coat. “Like you care.”
“What’s that, sweetie?”
A lump forms in my throat. I climb out of the hiding spot and glare at the photos on the wall. My embarrassment and pain rise to the surface once more.
“Dad.”
He freezes at the rawness in my tone. I wave a hand at the walls when I have his undivided attention for once. This has been a long time coming. I’m done holding it in and accepting something that’s always bothered me.
“We both know that you only care about one of your kids. It’s clear to see on the walls.”
His bewildered expression only makes this hurt more. I don’t care that the customers nearest to the bar get front row seats while I open up old wounds that never truly healed. He reaches for me but I stumble backwards.
“You only put Theo’s photos up,” I say tightly. “His games. Winning trophies. When he got recruited to Heston, you were so happy. But I got my early acceptance first. I work so hard hoping someone will see me, but I’m invisible, even to my own family.”
The end of my sentence comes out garbled as I choke the words out through a sob. Hammy whines at my side, pressing his weight into me to ease my distress.
“Theo and hockey are the only things you care about,” I push out. “You didn’t even care about mom’s affair right in front of you. Or that she left us. How can you act like nothing’s wrong with that when you go to Theo’s games with her and her new husband?”
All of this has been bottled up inside me for so long that it’s agonizing to spill out at last.
Dad’s preference for Theo, Mom flaunting her cheating and remarriage, Theo being the star athlete everyone knows on campus—all of those are reasons why I couldn’t bear to go to hockey games anymore and wanted to stay far away from everything that hurt me. No one asked me why I stopped, or cared about what interests me.
The fresh anguish of hoping for more with Alex after he was the only person to ever look at me and see me for who I am collides with the old, scabbed over wound of my family history. I don’t want to be the girl stuck in my brother’s shadow anymore.
Dad gives me a stricken look. “Lainey.” He drops the bar rag and strides over to me, crushing me in a hug. “No. No, you’re not, sweetie. I’m so proud of you. I always have been.”
My throat stings. “Then why do you only put Theo in here?”
“You’re such a shy girl, I never thought you wanted the attention,” he says hoarsely. “You hated it when we’d go out to dinner for your birthday and had them sing when they brought the cake. I’m so sorry. I love you, sweetie. Of course I love you.”
Fresh tears spill down my cheeks because I’ve never been able to hold it together when my dad gets choked up. He rubs my arms, his expression contorted with guilt.
The fierce hug is exactly what I needed. It’s full of his love, chasing away my doubts and the resentments that have pricked my heart for years.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“You’re sorry? What—why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s me, I’m the one who needs to be sorry for ever making my baby girl think you’re not important to me.”
“I don’t know. I just am. For not telling you how I felt?”
His laugh is thick and wet, clogging in his throat. “Okay. What would make it feel better? Do you want me to hang your dean’s list letters? I keep them all, you know.”
“No, it’s okay,” I whisper.
Despite not wanting to be the invisible girl anymore, the family drama show we’re putting on for the rest of the bar has reached the small limit of attention I can handle. I do my best to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of being watched.
“We can talk about it later.”
“I promise to do better,” he says gruffly. “And you should talk to your mom about this, too. When you’re ready.”
