I am not the beautiful one.

Growing up in my family, it became evident early on that you fit into one of two categories; either you were intensely beautiful – a perfect beauty – or else you were smart – a perfect student, who knew almost everything. My father was a teacher at the high school, advanced calculus, so he was where the smart genes came from. My mother, in her heyday, had been a model; she was no Kate Moss, no where near that, but she had been a local celebrity, and was the youngest contestant ever to win the Miss. Dalkery pageant. They set the standards, and only hoped their children could live up to them.

My older brother Kassidy – Kass for short – was the first born, and was smart. He was almost an each clone of my father, glasses and all. Kass had chosen to graduate early and go off to college to study computer science at the age of sixteen, something my dad gushes about to this day. However, my oldest sister Calista fit under the beautiful category, and has been modeling since she was just a child, not something my father gushes about. But no matter what, Calista’s beauty is undeniable; following in mom’s footsteps, she’ll be a contestant in the Miss. Dalkery pageant, and mom has already planned the celebration when she wins the title. “How could Calista not win?” She always asks when I bring up the fact there are twelve other girls in the pageant, “Look at her.”

I’m not beautiful like my sister Calista, with her long flowing Auburn curls and her smile that could light up even the darkest room. While she has curves – skinny curves, but curves none the less – I’m straight up and down, no curves at all, and if I had short hair I was fairly certain I would be mistaken for a boy. When I was a child, walking with my family, everyone would be gushing over Calista and not even notice me being held in my mother’s arms. In fact, it got to the point, where mom would hold me up in front of the people, and tell them: “And this is my daughter Sadie,” but they really wouldn’t pass attention, continuing to gush over Calista instead.

I’m not smart like my brother Kass and dad, either; while they talk about advance Calculus and computer science, and whatever other geeky thing they can think of, I’m barely passing grade 10 math. Dad could solve these problems blindfolded, with both of his hands tied behind his back, and I spend three hours every night trying to figure out these math problems, with his help, and still only end up getting 64 on my tests. I most certainly won’t be graduating from high school and sixteen, and heading off to University. If I even pass math, I will be surprised.

Saturday morning, I awoke to a hysterical mother, screaming and running through-out the house.

I would have done anything to be able to roll over in my bed, and go back to sleep, but as mom rushed into my bedroom and started rifling through my vanity, searching for something, “Mom,” I groaned, sitting up in my bed and staring over in her direction. “What are you doing?”

“Do you have your sister’s lip gloss?” She pressed, opening up boxes, and making a mess of my belongings. “She’s having her princess pictures taken today, and she needs her peach lip gloss. It makes her skin glow.” I didn’t want to mention that the pictures were black and white grainy photographs, stuffed into the back of the Dalkery newspaper, but she lived with her pride over the pageant, so I remained quiet, pulling myself from the bed. “Have you seen it?”

I shook my head, sighing a little too loudly, “No mom, I don’t wear lip-gloss.”

Turning around, she put a hand on her lip and let out another sigh, “This day is not going well,” her eyes darted back to me, “Do you plan on staying in bed all day? Today is an exciting day.”

“The missing lip-gloss day,” I said sarcastically.

Pursing her lips together, she shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, “You should go downstairs and get some breakfast, your father made your favorite, sausage.” I could see her still looking around the room, trying to locate my sister’s precious lip gloss, and instead of saying something else, and annoying her, I just climbed out of bed, through my housecoat over my shoulders, and walked down into the kitchen. Calista was sitting in her bedroom, in front of her vanity, inspecting her makeup. She didn’t even notice me pause in front of her bedroom door, watching her for a couple moments, too busy being consumed with her own beauty. I could understand why everyone else was consumed with how beautiful she was, but when she stood in front of mirrors for hours, just looking at herself, I could only stop and stare in wonder.

“Morning Sadie,” Dad said as I walked into the kitchen, and took a seat at the kitchen table; it was decorated with pancakes and sausage, bacon and eggs. “I don’t suppose that your sister and mother are going to be coming down to breakfast anytime soon.”

I laughed, “Calista and mom eat breakfast, you must be living in an alternate universe.”

Dad nodded, although he hated the whole beauty pageant thing, so he just tended to ignore it, and eat his breakfast, reading the business section of the newspaper while he did. I just sat there, eating my toast with marmalade and drinking orange juice; dad had thrown the comics on the counter but I grabbed them, choosing to read them instead of the business section like dad. “Sadie,” he sighed, looking up as I started reading Garfield, “Can’t you find something a little more stimulating to read?” I looked over at him, “Comics are just so…” his voice trailed off, “Childish.”

“Dad,” I sighed, looking up from the colorful pages, “Can we please not do this right now? I’d really like to be able to enjoy my breakfast.” I understood he wanted me to be smart like him or Kass, but I was me; neither smart nor beautiful. Why couldn’t people just let it be? Dad didn’t say anything else, obviously frustrated with me, his youngest daughter, the one who had nothing in common with his beautiful daughter or his genius son. “So,” I started, folding up the comics and pushing them aside, “When does Kass’ flight come in tomorrow?”

He looked up from his paper, “Just after two in the afternoon,” he told me, “but then he has another hour for the bus ride to Dalkery.”

“We’re not picking him up?” I asked, shock in my voice, “We always pick him up from the airport.”

Folding up the newspaper, he sighed, “We have a family thing for the pageant,” he explained, although he didn’t seem that excited about it, not excited enough to let his first born son have to take a hour long bus ride to the Dalkery bus station, “Your mother thinks we should go, because then the judges are just voting for the girls, but their families.” He shrugged, “Honestly, we don’t have a choice.”

I sighed, “Super.”

Mom walked into the kitchen just then, Calista following behind her with her hair done and her make-up sparkling on her eyes. To me, she looked too done up, and the makeup was hiding the natural beauty that everyone always commented on. “Wow Calista,” dad commented, “Aren’t you a vision.”

“Thanks daddy,” she smiled, her eyes darting to the spread on the kitchen table, “Oh wow, sausage,” her hand reached forward, fork in hand, ready to grab something for breakfast, but mom slapped her fingers away, shaking her head. “Mom,” Calista whined, “Come on, I’m starving.”

“Do you want to look bloated in your picture?” She asked, walking over to the oven and grabbing some other pancakes, “Have some buckwheat pancakes.”

Of course, those pancakes didn’t look as appealing to Calista, “Mom, I am the skinniest girl in this pageant, and I think I can afford one piece of sausage without looking like a whale in my princess picture,” she sighed, looking down at the buckwheat pancakes sitting on the plate in front of her. “Please, can I have one piece of sausage? I swear, I will drink four liters of water before the pictures so I don’t look bloated.” To me, it sounded like some kind of prison she was trapped in, begging for scraps, but mom gave in and let her have one sausage, while I sat beside her enjoying the four I had taken, and the normal delicious pancakes dad had made.

“You can’t afford to make any mistakes,” Mom warned her as she ate, drinking her coffee; mom never, ever, ate breakfast. Even when it was one of our special birthday breakfasts; she had a rule about eating before eleven in the morning.

Calista sighed, “I know this mom.”

“Don’t act like some sullen child,” Mom warned, annoyed, “This is important.” Looking over at dad, he sighed, picking up his empty plate and walking over to the dishwasher, placing his dishes inside. As soon as I finished my last bite of pancakes – okay, I stuffed it into my mouth – I followed suit, hoping that I could get out of the kitchen, and away from their drama, as soon as possible. Lately mom was scaring me a lot more, so obsessed with this pageant thing, dedicated to doing anything to win. “Wait,” Mom said, and I turned around to face her, “After the princess photo shoot, I want to take you out to buy a dress for tomorrow Sadie. You need something more to wear than jeans.”

I sighed, “Mom, come on.”

“Seriously,” she looked from me, to Calista, and then back to me, “I would love for my children to realize I am doing this for them, not for me. I have better things that I could be doing instead of running around doing things for them,” she sipped her coffee, “So please be a little nicer to your mom.”

In unison, Calista and I said: “Sorry.”

Standing up from the kitchen table, she walked over to the kitchen sink and dropped her mug in it gently, “Calista, finish up your breakfast, Sadie, can you please load the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher for me?”

Guilt tripping then asking for a favor, that was typically mom. “Sure thing, I can do that mom.”

Walking out of the kitchen, she left behind Calista and I; she was finishing up her pancakes, slowly, and watching me as I was putting the dishes into the dishwasher. As I walked over to grab the dish with the sausages on it, she stopped me, “There is no point in putting them away,” she told me, looking down at the plate, “there are only two left, I’ll just eat them,” I looked over towards the doorway into the kitchen, scared my mom was standing there watching us, but she wasn’t. Still I didn’t know if I should help Calista go against what mom had said, “Come on Sadie,” she begged, “I’m starving.”

Looking once more to the door, I caved, “Fine, but if mom finds out in her evil witch-like ways, I had nothing to do with you eating it.”

“Fine,” Calista agree, biting into the steaming hot meat.

As I loaded the last dish into the dishwasher, I turned around and noticed that Calista had moved on from eating the remainder of her buckwheat pancakes and was now – in a fury – eating what was left of the pancakes daddy had made. I didn’t even say anything, pretending I didn’t notice what she was doing. Mom had been denying her anything good for weeks, so I guess this was just her way of having a tiny rebellion. “Wow,” she said, as I pretended to be washing my hands for ten minutes, “dad makes the best pancakes ever.”

Turning around, I nodded, “They do.”

She noticed the look on my face, I could see her figuring me out, “I’m not crazy, I’m just…” she paused, looking down at the empty plate, “Just don’t tell mom, okay?”

I nodded, “Your secret is safe with me.”

Jumping up she pulled her lip-gloss – mom had found it obviously – and applied it to her perfectly heart shaped lips, “Thanks little sister,” she smiled, pushing her seat into the table and bringing over the plate to where I was standing, “I knew I could trust you.”

“With anything, you know that.” I reminded her.

She had trusted me with her secrets since the days when she used to sneak into mom’s bedroom while she was at work, and try on her most expensive pairs of high heels, walking around in front of the babysitter playing “going to town.” Our babysitting, Mary, didn’t really know or care that Calista was going around in two hundred dollar pairs of shoes, and I didn’t dare tell on her, knowing how much she loved them, and how much she loved to play. Even now, she was still playing dress up; they were just her own two hundred dollar pairs of shoes, and thousand dollar dresses.

“I’ll be right back,” Calista told me.

I nodded, “I suppose you have to finish getting ready for the day, don’t you.”

She paused a second, “Right.”

My sister had been acting more than a little weird lately, but I just chalked it up with having to deal with my mother in her face as much as she did. If mom and I had to spend as much time together as she and Calista were spending together, I would have went crazy too, even more crazy than she was acting right now. She walked off in the direction of our bedrooms, and I remained in the kitchen alone, cleaning up the kitchen before anyone walked into it, and wondered why everything was messed up. Sighing, I walked back into the living room and flopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

Mom walked back downstairs, Calista following behind her. “We’re going now.” Calista was dressed in one of her outfits for the pageant; mom had ordered them online, spending thousands, and I knew that no one else would have spent as much as Mom had. Turning around, she faced Calista, “are you ready sweetie?”

“Shoot,” she said, “I forgot my lucky necklace upstairs.”

Mom looked over at me, “Sadie, can you run upstairs and grab your sister’s necklace; it’s sitting on her vanity.” Nodding, although I did wonder why she couldn’t have run upstairs and grabbed her own necklace, I rushed up into her bedroom, jumping over the clothing she had thrown on the floor, and sat down in front of her vanity looking for Calista’s lucky star necklace. But it wasn’t sitting on her vanity like I had been told, so – even though she hated it when anyone went through her things, I started searching for the necklace. “Jesus,” I sighed as I searched through her collection of lip-gloss and eye shadows, eyeliner and hand cream; she had everything.

As I opened the top drawer, I say something I wasn’t expecting; packages of diet pills, all in various levels of consumption. Some were half full, some weren’t even touched, and some were almost empty. Shocked, I closed the drawer, noticing the sparkling necklace sitting on her floor, and I picked it up.

“Did you find it?” Mom said, stepping into the doorway.

Spinning around, I nodded, “Here,” I told her, handing it over, “Who knows what Calista would be like if she didn’t have her lucky necklace.” Nodding in agreement, she left me back in the bedroom, rushing off to get my sister prepared for more stress. Obviously, she wasn’t handling the pressure well, and I just hoped that she didn’t do anything stupid.

- - - -

Turns out that the family gathering for the pageant wasn’t for the entire family, but just for the parents of the contestants, meaning that little old Sadie wasn’t invited to enjoy the sandwiches without crusts, and sparkling apple juice. Instead, I was forced to walk to the bus station, and sit for three hours waiting for my brother’s late bus to arrive. By the time that Kass finally showed up, I was half asleep. “Hey Kid,” he said, shaking me, “Where are the rents?” It took me a second to realize what was going on, and then I realized it was my old brother shaking me, waking me, and that the wonderful dream I had about being home, in my own bed, was just a dream and nothing more.

Sitting up, I let out a pretty loud yawn, “they’re at a party for the beauty pageant,” I explained, “You get me instead.” Behind him, I could see his luggage, all four bags, and I looked up towards him, “What’s with all the clothing? Not doing your laundry in college?”

Something flashed across his face, but I couldn’t figure out what it was, except that he was keeping secrets from me, and probably the rest of the family. “Hey,” he started, sitting down on the uncomfortable seat beside me, “Let’s go get a cup of coffee and then we can set off towards the house.” He was keeping secrets, something that was serious enough that he couldn’t just tell me, but seemed to have to butter me up first, “I can tell everyone what’s up at the same time,” he explained.

“So something is up?”

He sighed, “Sadie, come on, I’ll get you some coffee and we’ll discuss this at another time,” Frustration was rising in his body, I could see it, but he could deal with it.

“I don’t drink coffee,” I told him, “And we’ll talk about it now.”

Maybe it was a little sister thing, where you just didn’t take no for an answer – since you were so used to hearing it, or at least I was – and so you pushed and pushed until you heard the answer that you wanted. I knew Kassidy didn’t want to talk about this, because it was obviously something serious, but even still I pushed forward waiting for him to tell me what was going on. Finally, in a fit of frustration, he announced: “I dropped out of college.” My mouth dropped, my eyes bulged from my face, and I stared at my older brother – the smart one – who was now a college drop out? It just didn’t make sense.

I paused, in shock, and then said, “Repeat that?”

He sighed, “You know what I said.” Biting his lip, he leaned back against the couch, “It just, bores me. I can’t take it anymore. Three years, and I’ve learned nothing more than how much beer it takes to get me drunk, and that cramming for finals does actually work. I just don’t have the love for it that I once did.”

“Dad’s going to freak.” I exclaimed mouth dropped open; dad lived for higher education, and loved boosting that his son was going to take after him. Turning to him, I didn’t know what to say, “What are you doing to do?”

He shrugged, “Wait until after Calista wins the pageant, and announce it.”

Laughing, I shook my head, “Nice.”

“Please don’t say anything to either of them, “Kass begged me, a look of desperation in his eyes. He was the smart one, and therefore I think he knew that when dad finally found out that he had dropped out of College, that all hell was going to break loose. Mom would be disappointed, but Kass was to mom like Calista was to dad; they care about them, wanted the best things for them, but in the end didn’t completely understand their choices. Dad would be devastated by the news, his heart broken.

“Your secret is safe with me,” I told him, feeling like a broken record, “I promise.”

Kass smiled, “Thanks,” Jumping up from his seat, he picked up some of his luggage, leaving the lighter things for me, “I think we need a cab.”

Mom and dad were sitting at home when the cab pulled into the driveway. Dad looked exhausted from the party, probably because it wasn’t full of his type of people, but Mom had the kind of excitement in her eyes a child got when they walked into a candy store. “It was amazing,” she told me as the two of us walked inside, “And your sister, everyone loved your sister. She is most certainly going to win this thing,” no one could say my mom didn’t have confidence, and I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if Calista, god forbid, didn’t win the pageant. I had a feeling there would be a scene made in the auditorium, “Only one more day left and then the world will know.”

“World?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, but mom just shushed me; she couldn’t have a daughter with such pessimism.

Turning her attention away from me, she wrapped her arms around Kassidy, “Look at you,” she said, smiling happily, “Have you been eating well? You seem a little skinny.” I rolled my eyes, walking further into the living room and flopping down on the couch beside dad; there was a plate of homemade tarts – of course, not homemade by mom, but one of the ladies around town – and I picked one up, popping it in my mouth.

“I’m fine,” Kass told mom, “We college students drink a lot of coffee.”

Knowing his secret of no longer being a college student, it sounded funny for him to be lying so blatantly, but I ignored it, and just leaned back against the couch, resting. “Where is your sister?” Mom said, walking to the staircase and calling up the stairs, “Calista, get down here now.” She sighed, walking over towards me, “Can you please go find her and get her to come down here?” She asked, sighing, “Now, please.”

What was I, some kind of servant; it was feeling like it more and more often lately.

Rushing upstairs I looked in Calista’s bedroom, but she wasn’t in there; door was open, lights turned off. And then I heard something, something coming from her adjoining bathroom. Turning on the light, I stepped into the bedroom, following the sound. It wasn’t until I got to the bathroom door that I realized the sound I was hearing was the sound of someone – my sister – getting sick. Without thinking, I knocked on the door, “Calista?” There was some banging, and then the sound of the toilet flushing. I knocked on the door again, “Calista, are you okay?” The sink started rushing water, and then finally she opened the door, standing in front of me, “Are you okay?” I repeated again, watching her with sympathetic eyes.

“I’m not feeling too good; I think it was the sandwiches at the party.” I nodded, but as I started to turn around to walk downstairs, Calista grabbed my arm, “Please don’t tell mom, she’ll go crazy and like quarantine me from the world.” I nodded; lately, I was the secret keeper for everyone, even when they didn’t realize that I was protecting them, “Thank you so much.” She pulled me into her arms, squeezing me tightly.

I nodded, “Mom wants you downstairs, Kass is here.”

As she walked out of the bedroom, I stood there for a second and then followed behind, counting the hours in my head until this whole pageant bullshit was over with. Then the world, at least as I knew it, could go back to normal again.

- - - -

“Here are your top four finalists.” The announcer said, standing on the stage dressed in his tuxedo. He probably didn’t realize that from where everyone was standing, we could tell that his full head of hair was a toupee, and everyone sitting below him could tell that he was bald as a bowling ball. I giggled at this, laughing loudly enough that she slapped my leg slightly, and I shut up quickly. Kass was sitting on the other end of dad, and he laughed at the false hair almost as much as I had been. “Please put your hands together and give out girls a round of applause; Tara Tompkins, Mia Harding, Calista Jensen and Belle Ronald.” As each girls name was called, each girl walked out into the middle of the stage, spinning once and smiling at the judges. So far, Calista had done an excellent job, and although she was looking pretty pale – mom had commented on it three times already, even tempted to go backstage and give her some color – but the judges loved her, so no one noticed or cared that she was looking pale.

“Wow, she looks beautiful, doesn’t she,” Mom said, as Calista spun in her twelve hundred dollar dress; it sparkled in the light of the stage, “She’s a natural.” We all nodded, in unison, and she continued, “But darn, she looks so pale,” I glanced up towards the stage, “Do you think she’s sick.”

My mind darted back to the day before.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” dad assured mom, holding her hand tightly, “I’m sure anyone would look pale under those bright lights.” Hearing this, mom agreed with that, sitting back in her chair and watching as everyone took their stops on the stage, waiting for the big announcement – who would be Miss. Dalkery – to come soon. The interviews were over, the bikini bodies had been displayed, and now the announcer was holding that envelope, the one which said who was most beautiful, in his hands. Seeing this envelope, mom’s anxieties skyrocketed, practically crushing dad’s hand. He didn’t say anything though, taking the pain.

“Here comes the moment of truth,” he announced, “Would the finalists please step forward.” In unison, the four girls stepped forward, holding each other’s hands. “Our third runner up is…” he opened the first envelope, paused in his suspenseful way, and then said: “Mia Harding.” Mia, in her pale pink dress, stepped forward smiling and took the flowers that were given her, stepping off to the side; and then there were three. The announcer didn’t take any breaks, once again setting up the suspense, “Our second runner up is…” another pause, as he opened the second envelope, “Tara Tompkins,” you could see the disappointment splashed on her face, but she stepped forward like Mia had, taking the runner up bouquet of flowers from the flower girl, and stepping off stage.

Mom leaned forward in her seat, looking at the stage, “Oh my god,” she said, voice trailing off.

“And now,” the announcer said, with he final envelope in his hand. The auditorium was silent, everyone’s eyes looking at the stage and those two girls that remained, “The moment of truth,” Calista looked terrified, shaking almost, and waiting for the announcement, “Our first runner up is…” Mom grabbed onto both dad and my hands, squeezing them tightly; I could even imagine if she was standing up on that stage, “Is…” he repeated again, opening up the envelope, “Belle Ronald, making Calista Jensen 2006’s Miss. Dalkery.” Mom jumped up, cheering loudly in her seat, screaming in an embarrassing fashion. As Belle, looking bitter, stepped off to the side, the previous year’s Miss Dalkery placed the small crystal tiara on Calista’s head, and she stepped forward.

It was supposed to be a happy moment, full of cheer, but as Calista stepped forward her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed into the announcers arms. Nearly screaming, mom pushed out of her seat and rushed towards the stage, “Everyone remain calm,” the announcer said, “Everyone remain calm.” Of course mom wasn’t listening to him, instead holding Calista in her arms, trying to wake her up.

Fifteen minutes later the four of us would be standing in the lobby of the hospital, waiting for a doctor, a nurse – someone – to come out and tell us what was going on with Calista, and if she was going to be okay. “I knew something was wrong with her,” Mom said, pacing around the lobby, “She was so pale standing on stage, and shaky, and she has been acting weird for the last couple weeks,” she turned to me, “Have you noticed anything going on with you sister, Sadie?” She pressed, but my mind was already focused on the previous day, finding my sister sick in the bathroom. Maybe I should have told mom about Sadie being sick, maybe it would have saved her from getting on stage and collapsing. I was about to say something, to mention it, when the doctor that was treating Calista stepped out into the lobby and walked towards mom and dad.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jensen?” He asked, and they nodded, “I’m Dr. Banks.”

“How is Calista?” Mom asked, almost hysterical.

He sighed, “Your daughter is extremely dehydrated, and her electrolytes are very, very low.” He paused, “It seems as though your daughter has been both abusing diet pills, and struggling with purging for the last couple months, extremely in the last couple weeks.”

“What are you talking about?” Mom asked.

Dr. Banks let out a sigh, strained, sigh, “You daughter is suffering from an eating disorder and it’s taken a big toll on her body.” Mom was shocked by that, shaking her head, “I know this may seem like a shock, but the most important part is taking steps to help your daughter.”

Mom shook her head, “Calista does not have an eating disorder; she treats her body like a temple.”

“All the signs…” Dr. Banks started to say.

Mom cut him off though, “I don’t care about your signs, my daughter does not have an eating disorder, and she does not take diet pills. She is naturally thin.” She paused, “You need to get back in that hospital room and find the real reason why she fainted, not give me this bullshit.” Her denial was now shifting into anger, and I knew I had to say something; stepping forward, mom looked over at me. “Sadie?”

“Calista has been taking diet pills,” I told her, biting my lip, “And I heard her throwing up last night.” Mom stared at me in disbelief, but I turned my attention to the doctor, “She told me she was just feeling sick, from the sandwiches, and made me promise not to tell my mom,” the guilt was rising in my throat, and I didn’t know what I should have felt; I knew I should have said something to my mom, but like I had promised Kass I wouldn’t tell the parents about him dropping out of university, I kept her secret. “Is she going to be okay?”

His reactions scared me, “She has done some pretty serious damage to her body, damage that if left untreated could be potentially fatal,” I bit my lip, “But your sister should be fine if she gets the help she needs.” I nodded.

“Can we see her?” Dad asked, stepping forward in front of both of us.

Dr. Banks nodded, “She needs her rest, though. We’re going to keep her here overnight, but you might want to think about having her admitted to the psych ward for treatment. Eating disorders are very serious things, and untreated, they continue to get worse.” Dad nodded, taking mom’s hand, and the four of us – mom, dad, Kass, who was remaining very quiet this whole time, and I – all walked into Calista’s room. She was laying in her hospital bed, hooked up to an IV, staring out the window into the night.

“Hi mommy, daddy,” she said as we walked in, “I’m so sorry.”

Dad sat down on the edge of her bed, mom with her hands on his shoulders, “It’s okay sweetie, I just don’t know what would drive you to take things this far,” there were tears in her eyes, and she looked so frail lying in that hospital bed; we didn’t even know she was sick, because she hadn’t looked that sick, but now she did, with her pale skin and bags under her eyes.

“I just wanted to be perfect,” she sighed, barely able to raise her heads, “I wanted to be perfect for you guys.” I hadn’t noticed before, but the Miss. Dalkery crown was sitting on the table next to her beside. Now it didn’t look as special as it had when she was standing on that stage, before she had collapsed, “I wanted to be perfect.”

Mom wiped a tear away, “I didn’t realize I was doing this to you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Calista tried to assure her, but it was hard to believe it with her lying in this bed. Even if mom hadn’t meant to, it would be hard to deny she hadn’t put some pressure on Calista to win this contest. “I took the pills,” she paused, her voice becoming lighter, quieter, “I made myself sick.” It was shocking to hear her announce it, to admit what mom wanted to deny.

“Well,” Dad started, “Now you can get better. We’ll help you get better.”

Both Kass and I were standing on the other edge of the room; in his eyes I could see something, his brain working, and even before he said it I knew what was coming. He would never have a “perfect” moment for it, so any old moment was better than nothing, “Mom, dad,” he announced, and they looked over at him, their teary eyes full of sadness. So maybe it wasn’t exactly a good moment for it, but he was going to do it anyways. “I dropped out of college.” You would have thought my parents would have screamed and shouted, but they didn’t – emotionally exhausted, I guess – and couldn’t even get enough energy to react. Instead, mom started to cry even more, and dad’s look of disappointment deepened.

Even later on, they wouldn’t react to it, too tired to deal. Kass would crash on the couch, sleeping soundly, and mom and dad would go to bed, not saying a word; their beautiful daughter turned out to be struggling with that, and their son – their perfect genius son – would have rather dropped out than deal with it.

All my life I had dealt with the idea of perfection, of being either perfectly smart like my older brother, or perfectly beautiful like my older sister, but hadn’t been able to succeed at either. Now, it turned out, that those people I had been aiming towards, who I had compared myself to, weren’t as perfect as everyone believed. Now, that word – perfect – seemed like the enemy, something that none of us could ever really live up to. We were human, ourselves, and now I knew that was all I ever needed to achieve towards; pass math, meet a nice guy, feel beautiful enough in my own skin, no matter if I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, or some lame dress my mother had bought for me. All I could ever be was me.