Chapter 3: Unnoticed

Mom works as a business etiquette coach. She can spot a new shade of blush on Lillian from across the room; they’ll spend whole evenings swapping makeup tips. When I cut my new bangs, three days went by with no reaction.

Still, I held out hope. “Mom, do you notice anything different about me?”

She barely glanced up from her laptop. “I’m worried about the job I found for your sister. Don’t bother me.”

Derek had studied business, now helped out with Dad’s company. Lillian majored in communications but couldn’t pass the civil service or public sector exams, and didn’t want a regular desk job either. Mom called in every favor she had to try to get her an internship at the local TV station.

After that, I stopped sharing things with my family. Even my mock SAT results—if they didn’t ask, I didn’t tell. Maybe it was fate, or maybe just dumb luck, but I aced the real SATs and got into a well-known college—honestly, a bit better than Lillian or Derek’s.

In Maple Heights, getting into college is a big deal. Most families throw a party, invite everyone from Grandma to the UPS driver. I thought, after twelve years of grinding, I’d earned a celebration.

But Mom hesitated, then called me in for a talk. “Natalie, how about we don’t hold one?”

The reason? “Lillian’s been out of work for a year. If we host a party, everyone will ask about her. She’ll be embarrassed.”

“Please be considerate of your sister.”

I sat there, tongue-tied. I always had to consider my sister, but did she ever think of me?

That summer, which should’ve been all sunshine and fireworks, was overshadowed. I still went to my classmates’ parties, dodging questions about mine by saying my parents were still picking a date.

As August ticked down, I couldn’t stall anymore. I spent every night lying awake, wondering how to cover my lie.

Then one day, Mom announced she’d changed her mind—we’d have a party after all. I was so relieved I almost cried. Turns out, Lillian had finally landed a job at the TV station. “Now she doesn’t have to worry about gossip,” Mom said.

Only then did I realize just how hard she’d worked for Lillian’s sake. Still, a party was a party.

I didn’t have anything to wear, but Lillian had a closet full of dresses. Mom suggested I borrow one, but I pleaded for a new one and finally got a simple white sheath dress.

When I got home, I found Lillian trying on a white cutout mermaid dress, spinning in front of her full-length mirror. She pinched her waist, grinning. “Not bad, fits like a glove. I’ll wear this tomorrow.”

She looked stunning—elegant, the kind of beauty that made you stop and stare. For a moment, my old insecurity hit me like a punch to the gut. I held my dress bag tighter, the way you might hold onto a secret.

I swallowed, then asked softly, “Lillian, could you not wear that dress tomorrow?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

I stammered, “It’s just... It’s a bit too eye-catching. If you wear it, everyone will look at you. But this is supposed to be my party.”

Her laugh rang out, sharp as the zipper on her dress. She burst out laughing, wiped away a tear, then dragged me to her closet. “You want me to change? Fine. Pick anything you want.”

No one dared cross Lillian when she was in a mood. I backed down, mumbling, “It’s fine, you don’t have to...”

She smirked, “Change? Why not? But let’s be clear—no matter what I wear, all eyes will be on me. Even if I wore rags, people would still look at me, not you.”