the visual arts program. Just Iliana and Rhodes, the best of the best.”
“Not you, though,” I say. I’m beginning to understand.
“Not me! I’m just as good an artist as either of you. I got into the Conservatory as a sophomore, same as you. I got into the Capstone based off my actual grades.” Sarah shoves her pillows into another leaf bag, one at a time. “You never took me seriously, though, because you two have always been so freaking obsessed with each other.”
“You really think all of this back-and-forth between Rhodes and me was about you? The fact that we’ve always been at each other’s throats doesn’t mean anything other than what it exactly is—that we hated each other, and we wanted each other out of the way. It never meant anything about what you can or can’t do.
“There is so much context there, so much history between Rhodes and me, and you’ll never understand it.”
“Never understand it!” Sarah laughs, but there’s no humor. “Are you kidding me? I could write a complete history on the two of you, week by week, month by month, semester by semester. I’ve been caught in the middle of it every step of the way, and it has been a complete nightmare.”
All I can do is roll my eyes. “Oh yes. Caught between two girls that hate each other. That’s the story you tell yourself, right? Little, misunderstood Sarah; big, mean Iliana. Bitter, tragic Rhodes.”
“Oh, don’t even start, Iliana—”
“Here’s the thing I’ve figured out: You liked us fighting over you. As long as I’m pissed because you’re throwing it in my face that you’re hanging out with Rhodes, I’m trying to pull you back to me. Let’s be honest here: When you figured out that we were talking online, and we didn’t know who the other was, you felt threatened.”
“WHO ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO BE?” Sarah throws the leaf bag in her hands into the hall. “You said it yourself! No one compares to either of you here. I have been living in your shadow for longer than I can even remember. If—if you found each other, and actually loved each other, where would I even begin to fit?”
Sarah’s chin trembles. She swipes at her cheeks with her forearm.
“I guess I thought if I could win the Capstone Award, you’d finally see me as equal to the both of you.” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t pull myself together after your fight. I couldn’t stop crying to give my project presentation, and the Capstone board didn’t care.”
“So if you didn’t get it, we couldn’t, either.”
“Don’t think I never saw all the ways the two of you could have worked as friends. You know like I do—opposite isn’t always bad. It can be complementary. I saw it, but you were so freaking determined to hate each other.”
That first night, the night Rhodes and Sarah met, could have been yesterday.
You’ll love her, Sarah said then.
You’re nothing alike, but I just see it, Iliana. The three of us are going to have so much fun—
I hated Rhodes for it. I hated Sarah for it, and I hated the idea of anyone taking her away from me. In this moment, I understand everything.
“Was it worth it?” I’m an asshole for even asking, but I’m not sorry.
She cringes, and glowers, and shakes her head.
“Will we come back from this?” she asks.
The answers are in front of both of us.
No, we’ll never come back from this. No, it wasn’t worth it. But I know there’s only one thing left for me to do before I go.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. I’m sorry you lost your chance at the scholarship. I’m sorry I wasn’t better to you. I’m sorry I floated your new Barbie down the drain when we were seven and—”
“Come on, Iliana,” Sarah says, wiping at her face. “That was when we were little.”
“But it’s the way it’s always been,” I say. “Even if I eventually fix stuff with you later, I always crashed into you to get what I wanted. I’m sorry.”
Sarah lets go of the bag in her hands to stand straight, my sister for as long as I can remember. She doesn’t cry, doesn’t speak, doesn’t move.
For a long time, she doesn’t look at me.
She neither accepts my apology nor apologizes herself, and I just have to be okay with that.
Without another word, I help her move the last of her bags into the hall on my way to the stairs. Rather than head for the car,