Left Without My Fair Share of Love

Ever since I was little, my taste buds seemed off. Whenever my family shared a watermelon, the others all raved about how sweet and refreshing it was. Yet no matter how many times I tasted it, the watermelon always struck me as bland, with a faint trace of sourness. I could never bring myself to enjoy it. Eventually, I stopped eating watermelon altogether. That was until the new summer break, when I dragged my heavy suitcase home, drenched in sweat, and spotted several slices of watermelon sitting on the table. To quench my thirst, I picked up a slice and popped it into my mouth. A burst of rich, sugary juice immediately exploded across my tongue. Just as I caught myself wondering when watermelon had ever tasted this amazing, my sister saw it and snatched the tray right out of my hand. "Why are you eating Buster's watermelon?" "What? Who is Buster?" She pointed to the number labeled on the tray. "Buster is the puppy I got this year. You're not Number 5 in this house anymore. Buster is!" In our family, everyone had a designated number. My dad was Number 1. My mom was Number 2. My brother was Number 3. My sister was Number 4, and I was Number 5. Before I could even process that my number had been handed off to a dog, my mother stepped into the living room. Spotting me, she said cheerfully, "Oh, you're eating watermelon again? That's great! Now those rinds won't go to waste anymore." Looking down at the watermelon rinds tossed in the trash can, I finally understood. There was never anything wrong with my taste buds. It was simply that over all these years, the sweet, tender heart of the watermelon—and the love tucked inside it—had never once been given to me. That very evening, I signed the agreement to join the Mistolstone Research Institution. I'd never return home where I was treated worse than a dog. Chapter 1 "From now on, your number in this house is 6," Klara Sellers said, placing a new tray right in front of me. To keep the three of us siblings from squabbling and fighting over possessions, our parents had taught us strict boundaries. If something didn't belong to us, we weren't allowed to touch it. And to make sure everyone abided by the rule, they assigned a number to each family member, making it easy to label belongings. "We'll rank by age: Robert is Number 1. I was Number 2. Calvin is Number 3. Evie is Number 4, and Vivian is Number 5," Klara had declared. "As parents, we are fair and just." Young as I was, I had counted on my fingers and pointed out their mistakes. "That's not right! I'm older than Evie, so I should be Number 4." "Um, you're older, so you should accommodate your younger sister, right?" I quietly wondered in my heart. "Calvin is older than me, so why doesn't he yield to me?" The truth that I couldn't wrap my head around back then suddenly clicked today. The family numbering system was never just about boundaries. It was the ranking of everyone's importance in the family. And now, I was ranked behind a dog. If I hadn't come home today, I wouldn't even have known my number had been reassigned. "Here you go, Buster! Eat up your watermelon before some shameful glutton comes over to steal it from you!" Evie Sellers brought over her puppy, casting a subtle side-eye at me. Klara laughed with amusement. She pulled the remaining watermelon rinds out of the refrigerator, chopped them up into my tray, and handed them to me. "Did you forget the family rules after being away at college for two years?" she scoffed. "This is yours. Why are you competing with Buster?" "I just ate a slice from the center of the watermelon," I reasoned without taking the tray. "How is that stealing from him? Whatever has a person's number on it belongs to them. Then why can't the center of the watermelon ever be put in my tray?" "The heart of the watermelon is only so big," Klara sulked, irritated by my questioning. "How could there be enough to go around for everyone?" Chapter 2 "So, I'm the only one who doesn't get any?" I pressed, holding her gaze. "Your dad and I work ourselves to the bone to support this family," Klara argued. "Are we not entitled to eat the heart of the watermelon?" I shook my head. "I never said that." Klara pressed on. "Ever since you and Evie were born, Calvin was already forced to share our affection, so we couldn't let him feel neglected. And Evie is a picky eater. I have to beg her just to get her to swallow a bite." It sounded like everyone had a compelling reason why they had to eat the heart of the watermelon. "What about the dog?" I asked slowly. "The heart of the watermelon is so small, yet there's enough to give to a dog, but not enough for me?" Klara's face flushed red with guilt and embarrassment. "I paid your way through college so you could come home and pick fights over food?" she stammered. "Someone has to eat the watermelon rinds." I was unimpressed. "Does it always have to be me?" She insisted, "You don't even like watermelon." She was twisting cause and effect, making me almost laugh out of pure exasperation. Taking a deep breath, I shifted my question. "When I'm not home, how do you handle the rinds?" Klara fell silent, but I quickly caught on. When I wasn't home, the rinds went straight into the trash. So, it was never true that someone had to eat them. After a long pause, Klara slammed the tray onto the counter. "Always so aggressive and argumentative," she sulked. "You act just like that unpleasant Martha, and you've got her nasty personality." I knew how much they despised my aunt, Martha Sellers. Because she had refused to bail them out financially when they wanted to buy a house, purchase cars, and raise their kids, they branded her an ungrateful creature every time her name came up. Now, in their eyes, I was just as repulsive as her. I forced back the tears that were threatening to spill over. Coming home this time, I had intended to ask my parents for their blessing to join the Mistolstone Research Institution. Once I went there, I would only be allowed to contact them once every five years. Looking back now, I realized that they had never seen me as worth more than the leftovers they gave me, so they probably wouldn't have cared where I went in the first place. Sniffling, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my advisor. [Professor, I'm ready to sign the electronic agreement.] My phone vibrated as Henry Leroy's reply came almost immediately. [Wonderful! Meet you at Mistolstone Airport in three days!] Just as I was about to put my phone away, Evie, who had been busy playing with Buster, leaned over and caught sight of my screen. She let out a shriek. "Vivian, are you using an iPhone 16?" She turned to Klara and shouted, "An iPhone 16 costs at least a thousand dollars! Look at her, Mom! Vivian is squandering your hard-earned money on such an expensive phone." Klara looked over, stunned by the price, and glared at me with fiery accusation. "Wasn't your old phone working just fine?" she huffed. "Throwing away a thousand dollars on a phone like it's nothing. Robert and I aren't billionaires, and we certainly can't afford to spoil a princess like you." I heard the harsh bite in her words, yet this time, I somehow didn't feel hurt anymore. "That old phone was Calvin's hand-me-down," I said slowly. "It lagged so severely it could barely even turn on, and it stopped working a long time ago." I paused. "Besides, neither you nor Dad have given me a cent in two years." Two years ago, after taking endless private tutoring classes, Evie barely scored enough on her SATs to scrape into a private vocational college. The school was terrible, yet the tuition was outrageously expensive, costing over 40,000 dollars a year. With three kids in school, our parents were at their wits' end. After thinking it over, they decided to stop funding me—the top student in the household who had earned a full acceptance into Harvard University. I still vividly remembered that summer break. I worked as a private tutor to buy Klara a gold necklace. In return, she cut off my tuition and living allowance entirely. Chapter 3 "Anyway, you can earn money," Klara had said. "If you're short on cash, just take on a few more part-time jobs." "Starting my sophomore year, I won't have that much free time," I had explained. "My coursework is heavier, and I have to spend most of my time in the research lab." She had brushed it off. "Then figure something out on your own. As parents, we have done everything we can for you." After that, they truly never gave me another cent. It was as if my survival, my future, and my entire existence had zero relation to them. ... Pulling myself out of the memory, I continued, "I bought this phone with my own money. I didn't spend a dime of yours." In this digital age, having a smooth-operating phone to process and receive data in real time was critical for my major. I slept barely four hours a day, juggling part-time jobs and my academic workload. I saved for six months before finally bringing myself to buy this older iPhone model. My gaze shifted to Evie's phone. "Is yours an iPhone 17 Pro Max?" Evie flinched, hiding the phone behind her back. "Don't you dare try to accuse me of squandering money! Mom and Dad bought one for Calvin, too!" A surge of bitter irony washed over me. Over all these years, it wasn't that I hadn't felt resentful. It was just that before, I had silently swallowed every ounce of heartbreak. But today, I was determined to lay it all bare. "Mom, you had plenty of money to buy top phone models for Calvin and Evie, but you had no money to fund my college education?" I demanded sharply. "Mine is the 1TB version!" Evie mumbled under her breath. "It cost over 2,000 dollars." Klara's face flushed red, but then she turned livid. "Are you blaming me? The girl next door works part-time jobs in college to help pay her family's bills! What about you?" "Calvin has graduated and has been working for a year now while living and eating at home for free," I countered. "Has he contributed a cent to the household?" "Fine! You have the same wretched attitude as Martha!" Klara erupted in humiliated fury. "Unreliable and ungrateful! We won't count on you for anything!" There she came, bringing Martha again. I touched my face. Because I inherited Martha's looks, everything I did, whether right or wrong, was treated as an inherent sin in this house. Seeing Klara losing the argument, Evie rushed to back her up. "Whenever Mom corrects me, I always listen. Vivian, you have such a nasty temper. How could you talk back to Mom like that?" On cue, Buster barked at me from her arms. As I looked at them standing shoulder-to-shoulder in front of me, it struck me that even though we were supposed to be family, I looked like their shared enemy. I swallowed the rest of my words. There was no point in arguing with them, not since I was leaving this house and never coming back. ... The next morning, perhaps feeling that she had gone too far the day before, Klara fried an egg and placed it in my tray. "Today is your birthday." In previous years, I never got to celebrate my birthday on my birthdate. It was always pushed back half a month so I could share Evie's birthday celebration, blowing out candles on her cake. However, because the label on the cake box always read Number 4, Evie had every right not to share a bite with me. Every time, I had to wait until she was finished eating and playing. Only then could I blow out the candles and make a wish over a plate of leftover crumbs. Today, Klara's egg was meant as a gesture of peace. In her mind, because she was acknowledging my birthday and showing me kindness, the ugly fight yesterday should be wiped clean. Instead, I picked up the egg with my fork and set it aside on the table. "I don't want it. The pasta is enough to fill me up." Klara slammed her fist onto the table, dumping the egg straight into Buster's tray. The dog wagged his tail and gobbled it down. "Even a dog knows better how to appreciate kindness than you do," Klara scoffed. She slammed the front door shut and left for work. Just then, my phone vibrated. Opening the screen, I saw a text message from an unfamiliar number. [Happy birthday, Vivian! I ordered a cake for you. Hope you like it.] Chapter 4 I thought it was just someone playing a prank on me. But shortly after, a delivery guy arrived at the door with a beautifully packaged cake. The card tucked inside the box bore Luther Grant's name. Luther was the boy next door when I was little. He was also my childhood crush. When I was 16, Luther and his family moved abroad, and my quiet crush faded away without closure. Now, as I stared at that familiar name, my heart skipped a beat. Before I even had time to process my emotions, my fingers had already typed out and sent a reply. [Luther, thank you so much for the cake! Do you have time to meet up?] An affirmative reply came back almost instantly. In a chaotic rush, I slapped a label onto the cake box, crammed it into the refrigerator, darted out the front door, and hurried to our meeting spot. Luther was already waiting for me there. The moment I laid eyes on him, I froze in place. He had outgrown his teenage boyishness, yet his facial features remained unchanged. When he looked up, those warm, smiling eyes were just as attractive as I remembered. My throat felt tight, as if gripped by an invisible hand. For a moment, I didn't know what to say. Luther greeted me, "Vivian, it's been a while." I spent the entire day hanging out with him, and my mood lifted considerably. Yet the moment I returned home that evening, I saw the cake sitting open on the dining table, with more than half of its rich frosting scraped away. Evie pushed open her bedroom door, carrying a plate while rubbing her stomach. "The cream on this ice cream cake is so delicious!" She reached down, preparing to scoop up another huge glob of frosting. I didn't want to waste energy dwelling on our parents' blatant favoritism anymore, but this was the birthday cake Luther had sent to me. "This is my cake!" I grabbed her arm, furious. "My label was stuck right on top! There's no way you didn't see it, so why did you open my cake?" Hearing the commotion in the hallway, our parents rushed out of their bedroom. "Why are you screaming at Evie?" Klara snapped. I pointed straight at the dining table. "Evie took my cake without my permission!" "What do you mean by that?" Klara frowned with deep irritation. "Evie is your sister. Are you seriously going out of your mind over a piece of cake?" "Going out of my mind?" I pointed at my own chest. All the suppressed fury bottled up from yesterday rushed to the surface as I recalled how they had treated me all these years. Even a saint would feel heartbroken and enraged under such treatment. "Yesterday, when I didn't know the numbers had been reassigned and ate the dog's watermelon, you accused me of stealing!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. "Today, when Evie knew full well the cake belonged to me and ate it anyway, you don't call that stealing? So, in this house, there are always two different standards of rules depending on who breaks them, right?" Klara lost her tongue, while Robert Sellers gave Evie a nudge and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Apologize to Vivian." "I won't!" Evie lifted her chin, tears streaming down her face in thick droplets. "That cake was given to me by Luther! Vivian didn't have anyone to buy her a birthday cake, so she stole mine!" Hearing Evie turn the tables so brazenly and frame me as a thief, I trembled with rage. Just as I was about to pull out my phone to produce proof that she was lying, the front door swung open, and Calvin Sellers walked into the house. Standing right behind him was none other than Luther. "Mom, Dad, look who I brought home!" Calvin called out cheerfully. Only after speaking did he feel the suffocating, tense atmosphere filling the living room. "What happened here?" Evie rushed over to him, twisting the facts into an exaggerated story before pointing to Luther. "The day before yesterday, when I was eating out, I ran into Luther. He asked me what kind of cake I liked. So, this cake was obviously bought for me." Chapter 5 Calvin turned to Luther. "So, was this cake meant for Vivian or for Evie?" Luther glanced at me, fuming with rage, and then at Evie, whose eyes were red from crying and looking terribly aggrieved. He let out a soft sigh. "It was meant for Evie. Alright, stop crying now." Evie immediately wiped away her tears and shot me a triumphant smile. She reached out, wrapping her arm around his, acting spoiled. "Luther, you are the best!" Luther gave me a subtle look, as if telling me not to make a scene. Having gained the upper hand, Evie stood back as Klara immediately pointed a finger at me. "Ever since you came back yesterday, you've been picking fights! And today, you even framed your own sister! I can't harbor a high-and-mighty princess like you in this house. Get the hell out!" Luther froze, having never expected a simple cake to ignite such chaos. He looked at me, full of apologies. Yet I only felt that the person I had once had a crush on had shattered today. I didn't feel a single flutter for him anymore. "Fine. I'll leave." Perhaps fate had brought me back this time just so I could sever every tie of family affection and romance. Taking a deep breath, I walked back into my room, grabbed my suitcase, and started heading for the door. Luther grabbed my arm. "Just apologize to Evie, and this will all blow over. Don't do anything rash." "If she wants to get lost, let her get lost!" Klara interrupted. "From now on, we'll pretend we never had a daughter like her. Luther, don't bother trying to reason with her." My parents were convinced that even if I walked out today, I would eventually come crawling back to them. Luther's hand slipped off. Without giving them a backward glance, I stormed out the door. It wasn't until I had dragged my suitcase into a taxi that something hit me. I couldn't just let myself be falsely accused like this. Therefore, I took screenshots of the text messages Luther had sent me and posted them into the family group chat. For a long time, no one replied. That was when I belatedly realized that to everyone in the house, the truth didn't matter at all. Later, my phone lit up with an incoming call from Klara. I assumed she was reaching out to make another passive peace gesture to sweep everything under the rug. But the moment I picked up, her voice came through in furious accusation. "The cake had peanut butter in it. Evie had an allergic reaction and ended up in the hospital! You put it in the fridge on purpose so she would eat it, didn't you?" "I didn't," I replied calmly. "And I'm not going to explain myself anymore. Think whatever you want." With that, I hung up the phone. ... Two days later, I arrived at the airport terminal and closed my eyes to rest. Before long, I was jolted awake by a familiar, grating voice. "Vivian? How did you find out we were going on vacation? Coming to stake out the airport like this? You're truly shameless!" Opening my eyes, I saw my family standing right before me, glaring with hostility. Luther followed closely behind them and gasped in surprise. "Vivian? How wonderful! Are you going to Celestunport too?" Seeing Luther react like that made Evie jealous. She tugged on his arm and whined, "You offered to treat me to a summer getaway just to make up for my allergic reaction to the cake. I won't let her come along." Klara and Robert growled at me. "This trip is for Numbers 1, 2, 3, and 4. There is no Number 6. Don't butt in where you don't belong. Stop making a fool of yourself." Just then, the airport intercom chimed with the boarding alert for my flight. I ignored them and dragged my luggage toward the boarding gate. Klara and Robert looked up at the flight number displayed on the screen above, freezing in place. "That's not the flight to Celestunport. Vivian, where are you going?"