They Sang for Her and Saved Me Leftovers I Couldn’t Eat Chapter 07
UC Berkeley’s campus was larger and more beautiful than I’d imagined. The air hummed with intellectual energy.
I refused my parents’ insistence that Cillian escort me and completed all enrollment paperwork entirely on my own.
I share a four-bedroom apartment with roommates, and my three roommates had already moved in.
A quiet girl with thick black-rimmed glasses introduced herself as Martha. She stepped forward to help me haul my heavy suitcase up the stairs.
“I’m Sabrina. Thank you,” I smiled at her.
“No problem! We’re roommates now!” Martha smiled, revealing two sweet dimples. “You’re the last one to arrive. Only the back room is left. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I love it.” From the window, I looked out over a tree-lined path below; the view stretched wide and open.
I pulled my brand-new bedding out of my suitcase and set to work making the bed when Mom’s call rang again.
I hesitated briefly, then answered.
“Hey, Sabrina. Have you reached campus yet? How’s the apartment? Do you need anything?” Her tone carried a warmth I’d never heard before, overflowing with maternal concern.
“Everything’s good. I lack nothing,” I replied evenly.
—
“That’s wonderful…” She paused, her voice shifting into cautious probing. “You never told us you hit the 99th percentile. Now everyone’s whispering that we treated you poorly at home…”
There it was, all over again. Her concern was always rooted in her own social reputation.
“I was running a fever that day. I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Ah, let’s not dwell on the past. You’re a UC Berkeley student now, the pride of our whole family! Your dad says once you come home for break, we’re throwing you a huge celebration—ten times fancier than Wallis’s party. We’ll invite every prominent person in the city!”
I sorted my desk supplies, my heart completely unmoved. “Mom, I won’t be home. The school has events scheduled.”
“What event could possibly be more important than your victory banquet?”
“An academic symposium. A lecture hosted by a Nobel laureate. It’s a rare opportunity.”
Silence stretched out on the other end of the line.
After a long pause, she conceded reluctantly. “Very well then… schoolwork comes first. Do you have enough money? I’ll have your father transfer another five thousand to your account.”
“No need. I earned a scholarship; I can manage.” I ended the call cleanly and let out a deep breath.
My roommate Martha handed me a bottle of water. “Was that your family? You sound a little upset.”
—
I smiled faintly. “It’s nothing. I’m just not used to it.”
Truly, I wasn’t. I couldn’t grow accustomed to their sudden warmth, their hollow, performative care.
The life was far richer and more dynamic than high school. I quickly adjusted to the rhythm of campus, spending most of my free time buried in the library.
I also signed up for the school debate team. Through countless fiery debates, I grew steadily more confident, bolder about speaking my mind.
Wallis called me several times during those weeks.
“Sabrina, how are you holding up in Berkeley? I miss you so much.”
“Sabrina, Mom keeps talking about you. She worries about you living all alone so far away.”
“Sabrina, when are you coming home? I’ve got a gift waiting for you.”
I only offered vague affirmations each time, never offering extra conversation.
I knew the phone was on speaker. My parents sat nearby, watching contentedly as their “obedient younger daughter” tried to hold our fraying sisterhood together.
Two months later, after winning three novice division tournaments, I was selected to deliver the keynote address at the Bay Area Freshmen Debate Symposium.
That day, I stood before thousands of faculty and students. Calm and composed, I spoke with ease.
—
A photograph of me, alongside my speech transcript, was posted on the university’s official website. That photo traveled fast, all the way back to our small hometown.
This time, Dad called me personally. “Sabrina! I saw your speech online! At that… what’d they call it? The big debate thing! You were phenomenal—you’ve made me so proud!”
He laughed loudly, and I could easily picture his triumphant, animated expression.
“By the way, I wanted to run something by you. Didn’t you once mention wanting to study art? Your mother and I talked it over. We’re planning to send Wallis to Berkeley so she can apply to the local art school. She’ll rent an apartment close to campus, and I expect you to look after her regularly.”
I froze, my fingers tightening around the phone.
I’d thought I’d flown far enough, high enough to escape. Yet in their eyes, I remained nothing more than Wallis’s accessory. The ‘older sister’ whose sole purpose was to pave every road for her.
Look after her? On what grounds?
I drew a slow breath. “Dad, I have a full schedule. I don’t have the time.”