The Home That Ranked Me Below Ten Pets, I Don't Want It

1: 1

The day my sister's ten pets each got their own private air conditioner, I thought my turn had finally come.

But the new unit installed today got hooked up to Amelia Fox's figurine cabinet instead.

In a hundred and four degrees, I broke.

I bought that air conditioner with money I earned working!

Mom couldn't have cared less.

"Mia's figurines can't take the heat. You wait for the next one."

I couldn't stand it anymore, so I curled up beside the figurine cabinet.

Half of me freezing, half of me burning, but at least it was cool.

Dad, though, got worked up and told me to get out.

"You're stealing the cold air and ruining the cooling. If Mia's figurines get heat-damaged, are you going to pay for it?"

Furious, he locked every room with an air conditioner in it.

I retreated to the room they'd converted from the balcony and watched the ancient, creaking fan finally give out completely.

I accepted the offer for the overseas assignment in East Africa.

This air conditioner I'd waited twelve years for, I didn't want to wait any longer.

...

Drifting in and out of sleep in the heat, I heard laughter from the living room.

"Mia, slow down. I just juiced that watermelon for you, and I chilled it too."

The crisp clink of ice against the glass made my thirst unbearable.

Dizzy and reeling, I walked out, and Mom shot me a look.

"Sleeping till the sun's high in the sky. How did you get so lazy?"

Lazy?

I wanted to wake up fresh and clear every day too.

But every night I tossed and turned in the heat, unable to sleep.

Until at the end I'd almost passed out from it.

I didn't have the strength to say anything.

I just stared at what was left of my sister's watermelon juice, unable to look away.

The ice, clear and glittering.

Wisps of cold rising off it.

But Mom picked it up and poured it straight into the dog's bowl.

"It's so hot out, we can't let Mia's babies overheat."

All that was left in front of me was a bowl of spoiled leftovers.

In front of my sister was a bowl of freshly made seafood chowder.

The leftovers reeked, sour and rank, and my sister pinched her nose in disgust.

"If you like eating garbage, fine, but can't you keep it away from people instead of grossing everyone out on purpose?"

Without a word, I dumped the leftovers into the trash.

Mom saw it and flew into a rage. "How can you waste food like that? Do you have any idea how hard we work for our money?"

And yet every month they bought the freshest imported fruit and vegetables for Mia's guinea pigs.

Ten pets, thousands of dollars a month just to feed them.

Beside me, my sister dumped out her chowder too.

"So gross."

The second Mom saw it, her face switched to tenderness.

"You don't want this, Mia? Then Mom will buy you something new. What do you want?"

My sister rattled off a whole list.

"I want shrimp dumplings, and crab cakes, and a mango pudding."

"Okay, okay, Mom will order it right now."

My head splitting, I choked back tears and held out my hand to Mom.

"Mom, give me ten dollars. I want to go buy some heatstroke medicine."

Mom rolled her eyes.

"What sickness are you faking? Didn't you just earn money working? Now you're squeezing the family for cash. You really know how to work an angle!"

But my money had all gone toward the air conditioner.

Back then Mom and Dad said they wanted to buy the best one.

It burned through every cent I'd saved.

I thought they were doing it because they cared about me.

Turned out they cared about my sister's figurines.

Off to the side, Dad wiped his mouth and stood up, impatient.

"Since you're going down anyway, stop by the pickup point and haul up Mia's new figurine. It weighs a good forty pounds. Don't make her go stand out in the sun."

He fished five dollars out of his pocket and tossed it on the table.

"For your trouble."

I looked at the five dollars, my voice dry. "That's not enough for the medicine."

"Are you stupid? Just tell the pharmacy you only want one bottle!"

He shoved me out the door and told me to hurry my legs up and not waste my sister's time.

The forty-pound package wouldn't fit in the elevator.

Gritting my teeth, I dragged it up the stairs one step at a time.

Sweat blurred my sight, and all four of my limbs were shaking.

I finally reached the door and used the last of my strength to push it open.

And stepped straight into the bubble tea my sister had just tossed out.

My foot slid, and the huge box crashed down hard on top of me.

Mom and Dad both cried out at the same moment.

A faint warmth rose in my chest. So they did still worry about me after all.

But they went around me where I lay on the floor and rushed straight for the box.

"Oh my God! The box isn't broken, is it?"

"Mia's new limited-edition figurine! Please let it be okay!"

They lifted the box with painstaking care, checking every corner and edge.

From start to finish, not one of them so much as glanced at me.

I lay on the floor, the pain at the back of my head slowly going numb.

And that ridiculous little scrap of hope at the bottom of my heart finally shattered for good.

2: 2

The box came open, and there was a crack in the figurine's protective case.

Tiny. No longer than a finger.

But my parents blew up.

"You did this on purpose!"

"We told you we'd get the AC installed for you, but you just had to get back at your sister."

I struggled to get up, and there wasn't an ounce of strength left in me.

"It was Amelia's bubble tea. I slipped on it and sprained my ankle."

Dad cut me off, disgusted. "You've got eyes, don't you? A cup that big, and you couldn't see it? All you know how to do is make excuses!"

The second they saw Amelia's face crumple, they were on the phone to a repair guy.

"What are you standing around for? Carry it! And be careful this time!"

The pain kept blacking out my vision.

"I feel really sick, Dad. I need to go to the hospital."

"Tough it out!" Dad snapped. "That condition of yours isn't going to kill you if it waits a while!"

"If Amelia's case doesn't get fixed right away and it can't be repaired, then what?"

They hauled me up and loaded that huge cardboard box onto my back again.

At the car, the figurine case was set down gently on the back seat.

And I got sent to the trunk.

Inside that stifling metal box, every breath scorched going down.

I begged, my voice raw. "Dad, Mom, take the divider out, let me get some of the AC too, please?"

Mom's irritated voice came from the front. "No! What if it messes with the cold air around the figurine case? Fan yourself with a piece of cardboard!"

The car pulled out, and between the dark and the jolting I nearly passed out.

By the time we reached the mall's underground lot and the door opened, I more or less rolled out.

Flushed all over, sweat soaked through every inch of my clothes.

Even the air in the parking garage was a hundred times cooler than the trunk.

But my parents didn't so much as glance at me. They took Amelia and walked straight to the elevator.

"We're taking Amelia for ice cream first. Rest a bit, then bring the case and come find us."

Not long after, my phone buzzed. A location came through.

Carrying that heavy case, I limped through the enormous mall, searching.

But when I got to the spot, there was no one there.

I called five times before Mom finally picked up, annoyed.

"Not that store."

After that, I was their monkey on a string.

Following one wrong location after another, I crossed back and forth through the mall.

More than half an hour later, I finally found them at a dessert shop.

"How can you be this stupid!" Dad started right in on me. "You couldn't find your way and it never crossed your mind to ask someone?"

I didn't even know which store they were in. How was I supposed to ask?

Sweat ran down my cheeks and into my mouth, salty and bitter.

While we waited for the case to be repaired.

The shop brought out a plate of sliced watermelon.

The owner handed a piece to me.

"You must be roasting, sweetie. Have some melon, cool yourself off."

I bit in, and the cold, clean sweetness of the juice burst in my mouth.

That taste I hadn't had in so long almost brought me to tears.

At home, the watermelon always went to Amelia first, the sweetest bite from the very center, then to my parents.

Then to her ten pets.

What was left for me was always the rind, gnawed clean.

I was about to take a second bite when Mom snatched the watermelon out of my hand.

"All you think about is yourself! Couldn't you get a piece for your sister?"

And with that, she carried the whole plate over and set it in front of Amelia.

But Amelia had ice cream in her left hand and frozen yogurt in her right.

Several different cups of bubble tea were lined up in front of her too.

There was no way she could finish it all.

Not that they ever once thought of giving a share to me.

The sweetness of the watermelon still lingered on my tongue, but the bitterness inside me churned like a rising sea.

Once the case was fixed and we got home, I finally couldn't hold up any longer and lay down, exhausted, on the living room floor.

The living room AC only ran when Amelia was there.

But the moment I lay down, Mom kicked me in the leg.

"Get up! Back to your room! Amelia's pets need to come out for some air!"

I curled up in the corner and begged, small and low. "Mom, I'll just stay in the corner. I won't get in their way."

They wouldn't allow it.

"Then, then can I stay in the pets' AC room for a little while? Just a little while."

"No!" Mom refused flatly. "You're covered in germs. What if you pass something to Amelia's babies?"

They shoved me out onto the balcony.

Through a pane of glass.

They held the pets, laughing and playing around.

And I was like some drifter peering in at other people's happiness.

3: 3

The next morning I woke to an empty house.

Even Amelia's pets were gone.

The power was out.

My phone buzzed with an extreme weather alerta red-level heat warning for today.

I called. No one picked up.

I dropped a message in the family group chat, and it sank without a trace.

I opened the door to get some air, and the neighbor woman happened to be stepping out at the same time.

She looked at me, surprised. "Why are you home alone? You didn't go with your parents to get out of the heat?"

That was how I found out my parents had worried the house AC wouldn't be enough and booked a fancy hotel in the city.

First thing that morning they'd loaded up Amelia and the pets and swept out in a whole procession.

Something turned bitter in my chest, and still I tried to comfort myself.

At least the house had AC. They hadn't locked the rooms that had it.

I asked the neighbor woman, "Do you know when the power's coming back?"

She looked even more puzzled.

"The complex hasn't lost power. My place is fine."

I went back inside and called the power company.

The operator's voice was flat and rehearsed. "Hello. Your household power was disconnected at the account holder's own request."

"The account holder said they'd be away for a while and no one would be home."

No one.

So it turned out I wasn't a person.

I gripped the phone, tears splashing onto the scalding screen.

I started packing. I borrowed a little money from a classmate I was close with, planning to go find the cheapest little motel and settle in.

That was when my mother called.

"Get over to the Hilton and find us."

The AC in the hotel lobby was cranked up so high it hurt.

The luxury suite they'd booked was almost too comfortable to be real.

But there were three bedroomsone for my parents, one for Amelia, and one for Amelia's ten pets.

I stood there frozen, and my mother pointed at a small door in the corner.

"You'll sleep in there the next couple of days. And don't forget to look after your sister's pets."

I pushed the door open, and a scorching wave of heat rushed out at me.

It was the equipment closet, with several huge AC condenser units running side by side inside.

I didn't hesitate. I turned and walked out.

My mother's voice trailed after me, unbothered.

"You really don't know how to enjoy a good thing. We put you up in a hotel this nice and you won't even take it."

My eyes stung and my throat went tight.

Right. As if I hadn't enjoyed so much already.

The shopping bags left over when Amelia bought designer clothes, the eraser thrown in when she bought imported stationery, the occasional leftover segment of durian.

Those were the good things I got to enjoy.

Because of them, every time I applied for financial aid, the counselor turned me down.

All I could do was study like my life depended on it, staying up all night to win the biggest scholarship there was.

They could have just admitted they didn't treat me well.

But every time, it turned into me being ungrateful.

I got to the hotel lobby, and a staff member stopped me, saying my credit card was over its limit.

I stared blankly at the bill in his hand.

In the payer's signature line was my name.

I went straight to the nearest bank with my ID.

At some point three credit cards had been opened under my name.

And every one of them had been maxed out, down to the last cent.

I rushed back to the hotel and found my parents.

I rushed back to the hotel to find my parents.

They were sitting with Amelia, doing a jigsaw puzzle.

When I demanded an explanation, my father spoke as if it were nothing. "You'll graduate and start working soon. It's not like you can't pay off a few cards."

"It's your own fault for being so thoughtlessyou never once thought to buy your sister a gift, so we had to do it for you."

Money. Where was I supposed to get money?

I was shaking with rage, tears breaking loose again.

But my mother called after me once more.

"Oh, right. Your birthday's in a couple of days."

4: 4

I stopped walking.

After all these years, I actually thought she'd finally remembered my birthday.

Then her next words dropped me straight into ice.

"Your sister wants to dance at a party, so you can throw yourself a birthday ball."

"Invite plenty of those male classmates of yours, especially the good-looking ones, to dance with your sister."

So it was still about my sister after all.

I didn't say a word. I turned and left.

Behind me came her disgruntled mutter: "What kind of attitude is that?"

I found the cheapest little motel near the college town and moved in.

The room was tiny, just a bed and a desk.

But it had air conditioning, clean sheets, and a quiet that belonged only to me.

I threw myself into preparing my paperwork to go abroad.

The company sending me overseas thought highly of me, and advanced me a signing bonus.

The first thing I did was pay off all three credit cards, then call right away and cancel every one of them.

In the middle of all that, my college roommate suddenly sent me a link.

"Vicky, have you lost it? What are you doing on the school confession board?"

I opened the link. It was one of my ID photos.

Underneath was a paragraph too vile to look at.

It said my birthday was coming up, that I was lonely and starved for company, so I was holding a special birthday party.

Inviting every good-looking guy in the school to come.

And anyone who showed up would have a chance to get close to me.

Shaking with rage, I called my father.

"What is it you people actually want!"

On the other end, his voice was full of righteous nerve. "Your sister wants to meet a few upperclassmen. You wouldn't even help with a small wish like that, so we had to do it ourselves."

"Besides, look how old you are and you still don't have a boyfriend. We're helping you. No need to thank us."

Helping me?

These were the same people who, back when I'd just started my freshman year, stormed into my classroom.

In front of my whole class and the teacher, they pointed at my face and cursed me out.

"You're here to study, not to be some socialite!"

"All day texting boys, and not looking after your sister at all."

After that, for all four years of college, not one boy dared come near me.

Even for group projects, the guys would rather fail than partner with me.

And now they'd done it again, nailing me to the pillory the same way.

There was a moment of silence on the line, then my father's voice rose into an even more impatient roar.

"Why bring up the past! Aren't we making it up to you now? You ungrateful girl!"

The call cut off.

Tears in my eyes, hands trembling, I contacted the confession board's admin, deleted the post, and put up a statement to clear it up.

But it was useless.

The messages tagging me in the class group chat kept flashing, and my inbox filled with classmates asking, some curious, some full of contempt.

Quietly, I left every group chat.

This city where I'd lived for more than twenty years no longer held a single thing worth staying for.

The day I left finally came.

I stood in line at the airport check-in counter, dragging my suitcase.

I turned my head, and ran straight into my parents.

"We've been waiting a long time for you."