Chapter 9 - The Things They Said
1586 Words
By the time I was nine, Chloe had become very good at pretending.
She was good at smiling when people looked at her. Good at answering teachers politely. Good at finishing her homework before anyone had to remind her. Good at sitting at the dinner table and acting as though nothing had changed.
If you didn't know her, you might have thought she was perfectly happy.
I knew her.
At least, I thought I did.
She was thirteen by then, and sometimes I felt like my sister had become someone I couldn't quite reach anymore.
School had become more important to her.
Everything had to be right.
Her homework. Her clothes. Her hair. Her grades.
If she received a ninety-eight instead of a hundred, she would stare at the paper as if something terrible had happened.
“It's still a good grade,” I told her once. She looked at me. “Good isn't always enough.”
I didn't understand.
“You're thirteen.”
“So?”
“You're supposed to have fun.”
She smiled faintly. “You're nine. You don't know anything.”
She wasn't wrong.
I didn't know much.
But I knew when my sister was unhappy.
School had started to become difficult for her in ways I didn't understand.
At first, it was only questions.
“Why does your dad live somewhere else?” “Are your parents divorced?” “Does your dad have another family?”
Chloe usually ignored them.
But teenagers didn't always stop when you ignored them.
One day, someone said something in the schoolyard that Chloe never told me herself.
I only knew because Dad picked her up that afternoon and she didn't say a word during the entire drive.
When we got home, she went straight to her room.
Dad followed her.
I stayed outside the door.
I couldn't hear everything, but I heard Chloe say, “I don't care what they say.” Dad answered, “I know.” “They're stupid.” “I know.” “They don't know anything.” “I know.”
There was a long silence.
Then Chloe's voice became smaller.
“They said you left because of her.”
Dad didn't answer immediately.
“Chloe…”
“They said you don't love Mum anymore.”
Dad sighed.
“Adults make complicated decisions.”
“Because of Rea?”
“No.” His answer was immediate. “No, Chloe. It wasn't because of Rea.”
I remember that sentence.
Not because I understood it.
Because Chloe did.
Or at least, she wanted to.
After a while, she came downstairs.
Her eyes were red, but she had washed her face.
Mum was already home.
She looked at Chloe and immediately knew something was wrong.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Chloe.”
“Nothing, Mum.”
Mum looked at Dad.
Dad didn't say anything.
That evening, dinner was unusually quiet.
I didn't understand why.
I only knew that nobody mentioned Rea.
---
Things at school became worse slowly.
Not every day.
That would have been easier to recognize.
It was occasional comments. Little jokes. Whispers when Chloe walked past. Questions that weren't really questions.
“Did your dad leave because he didn't like your family?” “Is Rea prettier than your mum?” “Maybe he likes her better.”
Chloe never answered.
At least, not where anyone could see.
She became better at pretending.
But something else was happening too.
Chloe was trying very hard to become perfect.
She always wanted the best grades. She became extremely careful about what she wore. She corrected the way she spoke. She hated making mistakes in front of other people.
At first, I thought her friends would admire her for it.
They didn't.
Some of them began making fun of her.
“You're such a teacher's pet.” “Do you ever relax?” “Why do you care so much about everything?” “It's weird.”
Chloe laughed along sometimes.
That was the strange part.
She would smile as though the jokes didn't hurt.
Then she would go home and study even harder.
She seemed to believe that if she could just become better, the comments would stop.
They didn't.
The more perfect she tried to be, the more obvious it became that she was trying.
And the more her friends noticed, the more they teased her.
I didn't understand why she didn't simply stop caring.
I was nine.
I thought you could decide not to care about things.
I didn't know that sometimes caring was the problem.
---
At home, Chloe was different depending on who was watching.
When Dad was there, she was polite to Rea.
“Hi, Rea.” “How are you?” “Fine, thank you.”
Sometimes she even smiled.
Dad seemed relieved whenever he saw it.
But as soon as he left the room, the warmth disappeared.
Rea could ask her a question and receive nothing.
“Do you want something to eat?”
Silence.
“Would you like some tea?”
Nothing.
Chloe would simply walk past her as if she wasn't there.
It was deliberate.
I knew it.
Rea knew it.
But she never confronted her.
She never complained to Dad.
She simply accepted it.
I didn't understand why.
Sometimes I wanted to tell Chloe to stop.
Not because I had chosen Rea over her.
I hadn't.
I would never have chosen anyone over Chloe.
She was my sister.
She had been there before Rea.
She had held my hand when I was scared. She had helped me when I couldn't understand my homework. She was the person I trusted most in the world.
But that didn't mean I thought she was right about everything.
I could love Chloe and still know that she was being unfair.
At nine, I didn't have the words for that.
I just knew that something about it felt wrong.
---
One Saturday, Dad bought me a drone.
I had wanted one for months.
I was so excited that I barely let him finish opening the box before I wanted to take it outside.
“Be careful,” he told me. “I will.” “You said that about the last one.” “That wasn't a drone.” “It doesn't matter.”
I ran outside.
Twenty minutes later, the drone was stuck in a tree.
I tried to get it down. I pulled at the branches. I threw a stick. I climbed halfway up the tree.
And eventually, the drone fell.
It hit the ground.
One of the propellers broke.
I stared at it.
Dad came outside.
He looked at the drone. Then at me.
“What happened?”
“I don't know.”
“Damian.”
“I was being careful.”
He took a breath. “Go inside.”
“But Dad…”
“Inside.”
I immediately felt angry.
“It wasn't my fault!”
“Enough.”
I kicked the ground.
“I hate you!”
The words came out before I could stop them.
Dad went completely still.
I immediately wished I could take them back.
But I was too angry.
I ran inside.
Rea found me sitting on the floor a few minutes later.
She sat beside me but didn't say anything.
After a while, I muttered, “Dad's mean.”
She smiled slightly. “He's angry.”
“He doesn't understand.”
“Maybe not.”
“He said it was my fault.”
She looked at me. “Was it?”
I didn't answer.
She waited.
Finally, I whispered, “Maybe.”
She nodded. “Being angry is okay, Damian. Hurting people because you're angry isn't.”
I looked at the floor.
“I didn't mean it.”
“I know.”
“Do I have to say sorry?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
I groaned. “I don't want to.”
“I know.”
She squeezed my shoulder. “That's usually when an apology matters most.”
I eventually went to Dad.
He was sitting at the table, looking at the broken drone.
“I'm sorry.”
He looked at me. “For what?”
“For saying I hate you.”
He pulled me onto his lap.
“I know you didn't mean it.”
“I didn't.”
“I know.”
We sat there quietly for a while.
Then he said, “You still broke the drone.”
I sighed.
“I know.”
He smiled.
“We'll see if it can be fixed.”
And just like that, everything was okay again.
At least for me.
---
That evening, Chloe came into the room while Dad and I were watching television.
She sat beside him.
He put his arm around her.
I watched them.
She looked comfortable there.
Safe.
And I understood something that I didn't have words for yet.
Chloe needed Dad in a way I didn't.
Maybe because she was afraid of losing him.
Maybe because she thought she had to compete for him.
Maybe because everything that had happened between our parents had made her believe that love could disappear.
I didn't know.
I only knew that when Dad was around, Chloe could smile at Rea.
When he wasn't, she couldn't even look at her.
And somewhere inside her, something was growing.
Something none of us could see yet.
She wasn't trying to disappear.
She was trying to become impossible to leave.
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