Chasing Abby(64)

Chapter 26 - Jimi

I RUSH DOWN THE back steps and find Sydney watching a video on her phone while sitting in the driver’s seat of her silver convertible Audi R8. She laughs at something on her phone screen as I slide into the passenger seat, so I slam the door to get her attention.
“Can we please go?”
“Oh, my God. You have to see this video of Jared talking to his dog, Lola.”
“I don’t want to see the video. Just drive, please.”
Her eyebrows shoot up as she drops her phone into the cup holder and pulls out of the driveway. “What’s with the attitude? Did your parents call you Abby again?”
“No. And please don’t remind me.”
Sydney turns onto Lumina, holding the steering wheel steady with her knee as she pulls her wavy hair into a ponytail. The salty air swirls through my hair, whipping it around everywhere, but I don’t care. I’m not trying to impress anyone today.
Sydney and I promised our friend Richard we’d watch him play a show at The Blue Fedora in Lumina Station this afternoon. He thinks my presence will attract more attention to the event, but I’m not in the mood for attention right now.
In fact, I really don’t want anyone’s attention, except my parents. But they’re too busy pretending the past eighteen years never happened. And now my mom is pregnant again. How convenient. I’m sure Abby will be the perfect older sister. She’ll change diapers and babysit and I’ll be the selfish one who’s too busy attending college on the other side of the country.
I can’t wait until next year when I leave for California. Maybe then, with three thousand miles between us, I won’t even notice that I’ve become invisible to my parents.
“You should just talk to your parents. You can say, ‘Hey! Remember me? Your daughter who got accepted into every college she applied to?’” Sydney says as she stops at a red light.
“It wasn’t every college,” I mutter, pretending to be interested in the people sitting outside the café on the corner.
“Whatever. Seven out of eight is pretty f*cking good, if you ask me. I got two out of nine, and that’s only because you helped me on the UNC app.”
“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters to them right now. I could probably move to California a year early and my parents wouldn’t even notice. But if I should wake up Queen Abby ten minutes too early, they’d probably take away my car or lock me away in the basement for the rest of the summer.”
“You may be exaggerating a little bit now.”
“They already took my phone! And they haven’t even offered to give it back to me. I have no incentive to do anything for them right now.”
I don’t say it aloud, but the only time my parents have given me any attention since Abby arrived is when I’ve hurt her feelings. They didn’t notice when I let her use my laptop to type up a letter to her academic counselor. They don’t know that I’ve been going to bed way before I normally do so I don’t keep her up. And without my phone, all I can do is lie there and think.
Mostly, I think about how everyone hates me right now. But I also think about how sorry I am that this reunion hasn’t turned out better for all of us. I think about how I used to imagine getting a cool older sister who would teach me how to dress and wear my makeup, and how to talk to boys. It wasn’t until she arrived that I realized that I can’t count on Abby for any of those things. Because she’s too much like my mom for me to ever relate to her.
I know some of the things I’ve said to Abby have crossed the line into malicious territory. But I’m just scared. My parents look at her and see the way I should have turned out: a mild-mannered musician, in a long-term relationship with a musician, going to a local college. When Abby leaves, they’ll look at me and think, “Oh, well. At least one of our kids turned out right.”