“I wanted you,” She says, her voice trembling, full of youth.
“What happened to your arm? What did they say?” Dean asks, patting her hair.
“I had my arm out the window.” She looks at her cast, inspecting it. “It’s broken. They said to come back in six weeks to see if it’s healing properly.”
“Man, Sierra, you have got to be more careful. This could have been so much worse.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” She says, Dean pulling her into another hug.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Is the car okay?” Sierra asks.
“I don’t know. We’re going to have it towed. We’ll drive you home.”
“Hi.” Sierra says, peering around Dean, looking at me. “Brother, dearest, can you get me something to eat? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all night. I think I left my wallet in the car…I don’t know where it is.”
“Yeah. Stay here with Madeline. I’ll find something,” Dean says, squeezing her unbroken arm. She sits back down in her chair, utterly defeated, while Dean follows the signs to the Cafeteria. I sit down next to her, and a few moments of silence pass.
“Are you all right?” She asks me.
“Kind of,” I say.
“Kind of?”
“Yeah. Kind of. You don’t need to worry about it,” I say.
“No, tell me.” She implores.
“This is the same hospital they took Andy to.” I tell her, even though that’s not really what’s bothering me.
“Oh.” Sierra puts her hand on my knee to comfort me, even though I should be the one comforting her. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“I’m really glad you’re okay,” I tell her. “Your brother really cares about you.”
“I know,” She smiles. “I think he cares too much.”
“He cares just the right amount,” I reassure her with a sigh. “Don’t take it for granted.”
“He always has,” Sierra agrees. “He’s the best big brother I could have ever asked for. Since my Dad died, he really took it upon himself to do everything for me and my mom. He gave up a lot for us. I tried really hard to make it up to him by getting into a good college, but I couldn’t. I didn’t win the student council elections. I wasn’t picked for captain on the volleyball team. I feel like all I do is disappoint him.”
“He’s so proud of you. He doesn’t care that you weren’t picked or chosen for the first spot. He just cares that you’re you. No matter what,” I remind her. “You know, there’s plenty of good schools out there. Yale isn’t the only one.”
“It feels like it was the only one that mattered,” She exhales. “It feels like…anyone who matters, anyone who does anything great, goes to a college like that.”
“Like what?” I ask her.
“Like, prestigious. Big. Well-known.”
“You know that’s not true. Dean didn’t go to a school like that. I didn’t go to a school like that. Hell, Andy didn’t go to a school like that. You can do great things no matter where you come from.” I tell her. “Prestigious, big and well-known don’t always mean important or great.”
“You think so?” She asks.
“I know so. You know, Andy didn’t even graduate. And look what he did.”
“He didn’t?”
“He didn’t. He only got through one semester before dropping out.”
