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Charlie

18 years old

Congratulations! You have been admitted to the Stanford Class of 2026…

Congratulations on your acceptance to Columbia University…

Congratulations! I am delighted to offer you admission to Princeton’s Class of 2026…

I got into my top three schools! Running downstairs with my laptop tucked under my arm, I look around for my twin brother, Benji. He’s not watching TV, so I head for the dining room, sure that he’s stuffing his face with food that our chef Gloria made.

I slide into the dining room and come to a sudden stop when I see my brother…and father, sitting at the table. I swallow back my excitement and slowly walk towards my brother.

“What ya got there Charlie boy,” Benji asks with a mouth full of food.

Not wanting to have my father’s attention on me, I shake my head and sit in my chair next to Benji. I place my laptop on my lap and grab an apple so it looks like that’s why I came down.

“You never walk around with your laptop, dude. It looked like you were excited to tell me something,” he says with a pump of his eyebrows and a shit-eating grin.

Rolling my eyes, I keep quiet and pick at the stem of my apple.

But the next thing I knew, Benji had swiped my laptop and opened it.

Damn, his hockey speed.

It’s useless trying to get it back, so I sit here and watch him seamlessly type in my password and read my acceptance letters.

“Holy shit! Holy fucking shit, you did it, Charlie! How many more do you have?”

Benji is all but jumping in his seat as he reads through three more letters welcoming me into their college. It took years of hard work and patience to get those scores.

Not knowing what to do or say, I peek at my father from the corner of my eye. He has stopped looking through paperwork and is staring right at me. Feeling my face flush, I look down at the table with my shoulders up to my ears.

“What’s that all about Benjamin,” he asks.

Benji stands up and walks over to Father. Turning the computer around, he scrolls through my emails, showing him the letters.

If you thought he’d be proud of his son for getting accepted into some of the top universities in the country, you’d be wrong.

He has a stern look in his eye as he looks at my emails. He squints at one then lets out a ‘yeah right’ followed by a dark laugh.

It’s one of the evilest sounds I’ve ever heard.

I knew he wasn’t going to be excited, but I was secretly hoping for a ‘well done’ or even a ‘good job’. But I didn’t expect him to shit all over my hard work.

Closing the laptop, he slides it to me and looks me in the eyes.

“I believe they clicked accept instead of decline by mistake. Because there’s absolutely no way in hell someone as dim-witted as you got into those prestigious schools with that childish trash you call art.”

Sinking further down in my chair, my heart sinks. All my dreams are in those schools. They have some of the top Fine Arts programs to help me sharpen my skills and reach my dream of becoming a successful artist and owning my own art gallery.

Who are you kidding? Nobody is going to pay for your scribbles.

Trash!

Childish!

A waste of time!

I shake my head to clear the voices and stand up. Grabbing my laptop, I turn to go back to my room when Father speaks.

“You do know you won’t be attending any of those colleges, don’t you?”

Turning around, I look at him with my eyes bugged out. What does he mean I won’t be attending those schools? I got in! All I have to do is formally accept one and I’m in. I can finally leave this hell hole.

“W-what do you mean,” I stutter.

He raises an eyebrow at my stutter, making me rub a nervous hand over my mouth. He sits forward in his chair with his hands steepled on the table.

“If you want the remaining portion of your trust fund, I expect you to stay within fifty miles of me.”

The blood drains from my face. “W-why?”

He moves so quick that I don’t even register it until I feel heat blooming across the right side of my face. I don’t even have time to cover my cheek before he pushes me backward. My back hits the wall and he’s right there, looming over me.

Looking down, the backs of my eyes start to sting.

Don’t cry, it’ll only make this worse.

“I make the rules boy. And you will do as I say,” he seethes as spittle hits the top of my head.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” His sharp tone has me cringing.

Looking up at him, I do my best to hide all my emotions. My hands start shaking so I hide them behind my back and pray he can’t see the little shutters going through my body.

He gets so close that I have to crane my neck to look into the same brown eyes as my own.

“Your brother has been accepted to Gannon University, and I expect you to attend as well.”

At the mention of Benji, I glance back at the table and see he’s not there.

I’m always left to deal with my father on my own.

“Someone needs to keep an eye on you when I’m not around,” he continues. “Plus, I have important events that require the presence of my sons, and I cannot have Benjamin flying back and forth all the time and losing focus on making it to the NHL.”

Looking down at my shoes, I lose the battle as a tear slips out.

I don’t understand. I don’t get into trouble. I have perfect attendance. I took all AP courses in high school and graduated early with honors. It took years of dedication, hard work, and patience to earn the high scores I achieved.

I can’t win when all Father sees are Benji’s success and my failures.

“I understand. I-I’m sorry I brought it up,” I say softly.

“Good. Now get out of my sight.”

Dismissed, I turn toward the stairs to head up to my room and spot my mother at the entrance to the dining room. She’s standing with her arms crossed over her fake breasts and her hip popped out to the side. Her bleached blonde hair is perfectly straight and she’s wearing a bright pink crop top and skinny jeans. She catches my eye and raises her sculpted eyebrow. When I don’t say anything, she rolls her eyes and walks past me.

She’s twenty years younger than Father. Even though she’s forty-five, you’d think she was in her lower thirties with the amount of plastic surgery she’s had. Her biggest worry in life has always been about her image. Father married her just one month after they met. He gave her endless amounts of money in exchange for having his son. But when she had two at the same time, they picked one to help rise to the top while I fell to the side.

I climb the stairs and speed-walk to my room. Closing and locking the door behind me, I slide down, and when my ass hits the floor, I let the tears fall.

“Hey, Charlie, get up. You fell asleep.”

A gentle hand on my shoulder shakes me. How the hell did Benji get into my room?

I open my eyes and see hazel eyes staring back at me.

Benji and I are fraternal twins. He’s about three inches taller than me and built like a damn brick house. His eyes are a mix of Mother’s green and Father’s brown, while mine are just brown. We both have dark, almost black hair and freckles. But other than those few physical similarities, we are the complete opposite.

He has played every sport under the sun and has natural talent. Whereas I can’t throw or kick a ball while standing still. Not to mention my hand-eye coordination isn’t the best.

He picked up a hockey stick when we were six or seven, and it has been his life ever since. As soon as Father caught wind of how good he was, he poured money on top of money for him to get the best of the best to coach him.

I didn’t mind Benji having all of the attention. It meant Father left me alone to work on my art. I only wish he would have shown my art an ounce of the love he shows when he’s watching Benji.

“Hey. Are you ok? You kind of zoned out on me,” Benji says, bringing me back to the present.

“Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

Chuckling, he holds out a hand to help me up off the floor.

“How did you even get in here? I locked the door.”

“A master never shares his secrets,” he says smiling at me.

Shaking my head, I make my way to my bed. Sitting down, I lean back against the headboard. Benji follows and sits shoulder to shoulder.

Looking over at him, I watch him play with a loose thread on my comforter.

“Why Gannon University? You could get into any college with how good you are at hockey. Yet you pick one less than two hours from here?”

Looking at me, he starts counting them off on his fingers.

“One, it’s one of the top schools I want to play for. Two, they’ve had recruits watching me for the last couple of years. And three, they were one of the first to offer me a spot on their varsity hockey team from the start.”

I’m about to ask what I am supposed to do when he holds up a hand, stopping me.

“Plus, Lily told me they had one of the best Fine Arts programs in the country.” Lily’s my best friend.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he laughs, ruffling my hair. “I can see it now, the crowd screaming my name as I win the game, the ladies fighting to get in my bed, and the jealous looks I’ll get from the team. Yeah, it’s going to be great.”

That sounds good for him, but I’m not sociable. And I hate talking to new people.

“Sounds…fun.”

“Gannon University will be amazing, you’ll see!” He smiles widely.

I hope so.