Page 35 of Never Enough

“But, Mom, Daphne is a talentless hack!” My ears perk up at the mention of her name.

Victoria, Mom, and I are traveling home after Victoria’s music lesson. Mom’s going to drop me off at home and take Victoria straight to her private lesson.

It’s non-stop for the harp. Not on her own accord. Just how our parents force me out of my room, they force music on her too.

“First, we never say the word hack,“ Mom spits like it’s the most vile thing she’s ever heard. “And second, she can’t do her private at the studio. We’re remodeling, remember?”

“She can meet Ms. Cider at her trailer! I don’t want her sullying up our house.”

Victoria still dislikes Daphne. She won’t admit it, but I think it’s because Daphne picks up sheet music really easily, whereas Victoria has to work harder.

“At her trailer? That run-down little thing?” Mom presses a hand to her chest. To people like the Whitmores, zip codes are very important.

“You’re just jealous because Daphne has natural talent,” I say.

“And I don’t?” she replies defensively.

“Oh, Alex,” Mom says, her voice laced with disappointment. “How cruel.”

No! I didn’t mean it like that. Just because Daphne has talent, it doesn’t imply my sister lacks it. “It’s n-not your f-fault,” I say, my voice small. I hate this stupid stutter. “Y-you’re just not as g-good.”

Of course I’m stuttering! My life sucks, and when I need to defend myself, my brain and vocal cords work against me.

“Are you serious?” Her mouth gapes open, her eyes wide with disbelief. I’m making it worse.

“N-n-no. I j-j-just th-think you’re j-jealous.”

“Jealous? Of Daphne?” Victoria scoffs. “Who would want to be like her?”

“I d-don’t kk-now, maybe s-someone who a-actually h-has t-talent.”

“You’re so mean!” Victoria says. I messed up. It’s coming out all wrong. “You don’t have to be cruel because you’re obsessed with her.”

“I d-don’t have a c-crush on h-her,” I deny, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Sure you don’t,” my sister says with a roll of her eyes. “You’re only always staringat her.”

“I’m n-not,” I insist, my voice rising. “I-I-I’m just o-obs-serving.”

“Oh, please. You’re just a sad little loner because no one likes you.”

Is that why Daphne hangs out with me? Because she feels sorry for me?

“I d-don’t care who l-likes me,” I lie, my voice shaking. “I’m f-fine b-being a-alone.”

“No, you’re not,” Victoria says. “You’re just pretending.”

“I’m s-serious,” I insist, my voice growing louder. “I’m h-happy b-being a-alone.”

“No, you’re not!” Victoria retorts. “At least I have friends!”

As we pull up to the front of the mansion, I unbuckle my seatbelt and force myself to breathe. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. Vic and I never fight. We only truly have each other. So, naturally, I can’t stand thinking she hates me.

“V-Victoria, I-I—” I start to say, but she cuts me off.

“Just go, Alex!

Great. Now, I have no friends.

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