Alma Mater Reunion

A decade after leaving home, I saw my sister at our alma mater. She was a rising psychology star, giving a lecture. I was in the crowd, a bubble tea courier.
She told the hall, My work is for my brother Alan. I'll cure his depression, no matter how long it takes.
Our parents beamed with pride in the front rowuntil they spotted me. My father found me outside, his voice strained. "You chose this? Hiding from us? Struggling?"
They stood speechless until I mumbled, "Excuse me, my daughters waiting."
They erupted. "What woman would marry you like this?" my mother spat. "Marrying on a whim, having a child you cant raise properly! Another failure!"
"We're renowned professors! You were top of your class! And you throw it all away?!"
I just stared, bewildered. They were the ones who'd accused me of poisoning my brother, who'd ruined my life. Now I had my own family, my own peace. What more did they want?
1
Before I could answer, the Dean of Students rushed over, grabbing my arm to help my parents restrain me.
"Professor Vance, I got him! Is this the delivery guy who tried to steal from you?" he panted, turning to glare at me. "I've always said we shouldn't let people like this on campus! These lowlifes will do anything for a buck!"
He jabbed a finger at my face, completely oblivious to the fact that I was once his prized student, the one he boasted was a shoo-in for the Ivy League.
My fathers face went crimson, as if hed been slapped in public. He looked even more flustered than I felt.
"No, he's not a thief! He's..."
He stammered, the words failing him, until he finally forced out three through clenched teeth.
"I know him."
The deans hand fell away, his eyes darting between me and my parents, confusion clouding his features. I kept my head down and pushed my scooter forward, trying to get away. My mother scurried after me, her voice dripping with frustrated disappointment.
"Ethan, you can be angry with us, but thats no reason to debase yourself! Come home with us! We'll find you a respectable job, so you dont have to endure this shame!"
I bent down, stuck the key in the ignition, and turned it. "There's no need," I said, my voice flat. "I'm doing just fine."
My mother stomped her foot, infuriated by my "willingness to wallow in mediocrity." She grabbed my handlebars, her face darkening as she prepared to unleash a torrent of abuse, but she was cut off by my sister, Ruby, who had just finished her lecture.
"Mom, what are you doing? We need to go. We promised to celebrate Alan's birthday! You know how he gets... that little crybaby will start weeping buckets if we're late..."
Rubys voice, full of doting affection, trailed off as she got closer and finally saw who she was talking to. The master of emotional control, the psychology expert, suddenly had red-rimmed eyes.
She looked down, as if explaining herself to the pavement. "Alan's condition... it hasn't improved. He needs us all there to sing 'Happy Birthday,' or he'll cry for days. Hes not like you, he cant..."
But I only cared about one thing.
"Are you done?"
My mother and my father, who had just walked over, both flinched. This wasn't the son they remembered. There was a time I couldn't stop talking to them, desperate for their attention. I would shove my math competition trophies and perfect report cards in their faces, even as they tore them up, scolding me, "Don't you dare upset your brother!"
Now, I just pointed to the faded, washed-out apron I was wearing.
"The bubble tea shop gets busy around this time."
Ignoring their complicated stares, I continued, "I have a lot of orders, and I need to clean up the shop to avoid any complaints. Please, move."
They started to argue, to try and persuade me to quit, but Ruby placed a hand on their shoulders, forcing a stiff smile onto her face.
"Dad, Mom, let's not push it. We did just show up unannounced."
After all these years, my sister had developed a surprising trace of empathy. She held out a business card. "If you need anything, call me."
I glanced at the card, at the gold-embossed lettering, the title of 'Internationally Certified Specialist,' and the prestigious downtown office address.
I almost laughed. "I won't."
"I just sell bubble tea," I said, meeting her eyes. "Besides, if Alan found out we were in contact, his depression might take a nosedive."
That one sentence was enough. It stopped their arguments cold.
I pushed my mothers hand away and swung my leg over the scooter. I heard a few frantic footsteps behind me, but they stopped as a phone began to ring, replaced by anxious cries.
"Alan, please, stop crying!"
"You're breaking our hearts!"
"Ruby brought you a special gift all the way from Europe..."
I rode off, the wind whipping against me, chilling me to the bone.
On the way, I picked up some groceries. When I got back to the shop, my daughter, Rosie, launched herself into my arms.
"Daddy, I missed you so much!"
"It's cold out! Let Rosie warm up your hands!"
She took my hands in her tiny ones, rubbing them together and breathing little puffs of warm air onto my skin. She had the same earnest, goofy look as her mother. It made me smile.
"Yay, Daddy's smiling! You looked so serious when you came in, I was scared..."
I froze, about to reassure her, when my wife, Mia, who had closed her own work early to help mind the shop, pulled me toward her and started examining me from head to toe.
"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" I asked.
Her eyes were wide with worry. "A student who came in earlier said you ran into some trouble at the university today?" she whispered. "She said it was with that famous law professor, Dr. Evelyn Vance! The one who wouldn't let you leave..."
Mia frowned. "But that doesn't make sense! I've seen her interviews. Shes so devoted to her younger son, the one with depression. She seems like such a good person. How could you possibly have gotten on her bad side?"
2
I gently pulled away from Mia's embrace and walked over to the counter, grabbing a cloth and wiping away at a non-existent water stain with furious energy.
"It's nothing," I muttered. "It's all in the past."
She watched me for a few seconds. "We're a family, Ethan."
"Yeah, I know."
I turned my back, printing out an order and starting to mix a drink. Mia went back to helping customers and manning the register. Several times, she braved the biting wind to make deliveries for me. Our daughter sat quietly at a small table, her homework spread out before her. Whenever I looked tired, she would climb onto a little stool, reaching up on her tiptoes. "You worked hard, Daddy! Let Rosie give you a shoulder massage!"
Later that night, when the last customer had left, I finally gave in to Mia's worried gaze and sighed.
"Alright. Seeing as they're not going to give up, I guess I can't hide it from you forever."
"Dr. Evelyn Vance... is my mother."
She was the woman who gave birth to me. And she was the woman who had sworn I was a monster, who told the world I had maliciously tried to poison my own brother.
Mia shook her head frantically, her eyes wide with disbelief. I gave a bitter laugh. What did it matter if she didn't believe it? The case was closed. I just laid out the facts, my voice devoid of emotion.
In that house, I was a disappointment from the day I was born. My parents and my sister were the geniuses. Ruby took her college entrance exams at nine and had her PhD from an Ivy League school by fifteen, poised for a brilliant career abroad.
At five, I was still playing in the mud.
My parents rushed me to get my IQ tested, only to have the results confirm their fears: I was utterly, painfully average.
From then on, I was handed over to the nanny.
"When are Mommy and Daddy coming to see me?" Id ask, day after day.
"Be a good boy, Ethan. They're very busy," she would say.
That answer was the soundtrack to my childhood, marking the passage of seasons.
"But... but it's my birthday! Why aren't they here yet?" A small boy in a paper crown, guarding a cake hed been dreaming of, waiting for the people who were supposed to cherish him most. "Waaaah! Mommy and Daddy don't want me anymore!"
In the end, I saw them on TV. On my birthday, they were with Ruby at an international competition. As I watched the camera zoom in on the gleaming trophy in her hands and the radiant smiles on my parents' faces, a thought took root in my mind.
If I had a trophy, would they spend time with me, too?
From that day forward, I locked my beloved race cars away. When my friends called for me to come out and play, I gritted my teeth and refused. At six, I started devouring dictionaries and memorizing entire collections of classic poetry.
But I wasn't a prodigy.
Often, my head would spin, unable to absorb a single new word. Id cry in frustration, hitting my own head with my small fists. It hurt. But the ache in my heart from my parents' absence was so much worse.
When I started school, I bought every textbook and study guide I could find, teaching myself the entire curriculum a semester ahead of time. Other students did three practice exams; I did ten, fifteen. The light in my study never went out before three in the morning.
The day I finally clawed my way to the top of my class, I called my parents, my voice trembling with excitement. For the first time in years, they agreed to celebrate my birthday with me.
"Ethan, we'll celebrate in Paris this year," my father had said. "There's an academic symposium there. You and Ruby can both attend. It will be good for you to start networking."
For the first time, I stood beside them in a tailored suit, a matching part of the family. My parents proudly introduced me to their colleagues. It felt like a dream.
After that, I worked even harder, desperate to maintain this new image in their eyes. So when they asked me to look after my younger brother, Alan, I agreed without hesitation.
"Your brother isn't like you," they'd explained. "He's just an ordinary little boy. He's very sensitive, so you need to be extra patient with him..."
But I was once an ordinary little boy, too. Why... why couldn't you...
I swallowed the bitterness and told myself it was for the best. Alan could live the happy, carefree childhood I never had.
"Don't worry," I promised them. "You can count on me."
That promise was the first step on my path to hell.
Because of my "generosity," whenever Alan wanted me to play with him, I had to drop my homework and entertain him until ten at night.
My parents saw nothing wrong with it. "Ethan, you're a genius, just like your sister. Schoolwork should be a breeze for you."
They never saw the effort. They never saw me studying until the dead of night, only to be woken at dawn by the sound of Alan jumping rope outside my door.
"He's just a child! Kids are supposed to be playful," they'd say, defending him. "He can't be sullen like you, always showing off your grades."
It felt like a stone was lodged in my chest. Then they told me I had to move into the small guest room. They were knocking down the wall of my bedroom to give Alan a bigger play area.
Mia couldn't listen anymore, her voice cracking with anger.
"So when you were ordinary, they didn't want you. Then you worked yourself to the bone to become exceptional, and suddenly they preferred the ordinary one? What kind of sick game were they playing?!" she cried. "And after you were so good to your brother, he couldn't say a single word for you?"
3
I just shook my head.
With my parents backing him, Alan only got worse. He would sneak into my room and tear my notebooks to shreds, then run to our parents crying, "Ethan doesn't want me to study, he's trying to sabotage me!"
I'd make him fresh juice to try and appease him, and he'd throw rocks and grass in it, then scream, "Stop trying to poison me!"
Exhausted, Id stay up all night rewriting my notes. One time, the power went out. Alan pointed to the severed cable and claimed Id cut it in a fit of rage.
At first, my parents would just give me disapproving looks.
"It's not just about grades, Ethan. A person's character is what truly matters."
But as it happened more and more, they became convinced I was a bully. After all, how could a sweet little boy like Alan lie?
My sister, a fiery teenager back then, was especially harsh.
"You're just jealous!" she would snarl. "You can't stand that we love Alan more!"
"Well, we're going to give him everything! You could drop dead, and no one would ever love you!"
I tried to defend myself, but my words were always drowned out by Alan's wails. My parents would yell at me for scaring him. My usually aloof sister would glare at me before turning to make silly faces to cheer Alan up.
And I would be left standing there, invisible.
My standing in the family plummeted. Theyd be chatting happily, but the moment I walked into a room, the conversation would die, as if an outsider had intruded.
Then came Ruby's birthday. Alan wanted to sing for her, and I, mustering all my courage, offered to accompany him on my violin. He agreed enthusiastically, even offering to walk with me to get it. For a moment, I thought we had reconciled.
But as we walked down the long hallway, he suddenly sprinted ahead and vanished.
I called out his name in panic, only to be met with the stinging slap of my fathers hand across my face.
"Still putting on an act!" he roared. "You were born rotten! Tell me, where did you hide Alan this time?!"
I clutched my bleeding lip, tears streaming down my face, sobbing that I didn't do it. A sharp pain exploded in my knee as my mother kicked me to the ground. Ruby rushed forward, ready to land another blow.
"You won't talk until you're half-dead, will you? You need to be taught a serious lesson tonight!"
My mother grabbed a fistful of my hair. "Still not talking? Fine! Solitary confinement it is! You can starve in there until you're ready to confess, you little monster!"
She threw me into my room. I didn't see the wall coming. My body went limp and slid to the floor.
Stars burst behind my eyes. I felt a warm trickle of blood run down my forehead, but a deep, penetrating cold started in my fingertips and spread through my whole body. It felt like I was freezing, merging with the cold night. As my consciousness faded, I heard Alans frantic cries from outside.
"Mommy, Daddy, why does Ethan hate me so much?!"
"He's always taunting me with his grades! Just now, he called me useless and said he was going to drown me in the pool! I was so scared I just ran and ran..."
My parents' voices were thick with pity and rage.
"Oh, our poor Alan! Don't you worry, we won't let that little bastard get away with this! We'll make him get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness!"
Ruby shouted that they should kick me a few more times to make sure I learned my lesson.
I struggled to crawl to the door. I had to explain. But the pain was too intense, I couldn't form words. All I could do was scratch at the locked door until my fingernails split and bled.
On the other side of that door, I heard my parents sickeningly sweet coos.
"Come on, my little prince. Mommy and Daddy will take you out for a feast!"
Then, deliberately louder, "From now on, this is what happens to bullies! They get punished! And our sweet, adorable boy gets rewarded!"
Tears streamed relentlessly down my face.
I heard the front door slam shut. The pain in my body and soul was tearing me apart.
The darkness and silence swallowed me whole. It felt like being buried alive. My hands, slick with blood, finally went still as I lost consciousness.
In a hazy dream, I heard a scream.
"Ethan, hang on!"
"An ambulance! Someone call an ambulance!"
At the hospital, even the doctor was sympathetic. "This boy has been running on fumes for a long time, severe exhaustion... and now he has a serious concussion, not to mention fractures in his knee and thigh..."
My parents, however, were barely listening. Their attention was captured by Alan's piercing shriek.
"Don't kill me, Ethan! I'll be good, I'll hide! I won't try to take Mommy and Daddy from you ever again!"
Ruby burst into the room and threw a medical report at my face. The words "Severe Depression" were stamped across the top. It was all my fault, she said.
"You did this, you monster! Are you happy now?" she screamed. "You and your stupid grades, you pushed him to this... You're nothing but an animal to us!"
I looked at my parents' faces, twisted with hatred. I turned my head away, closed my tear-filled eyes, and wondered why. Why had everyone I loved abandoned me?
4
After that, they treated me like a dangerous criminal. They took Alan and moved to another state, leaving me behind. They said they were being generous, leaving me enough money to get by.
"This is enough to get you through college," the note read. "We hope you use your education to correct your vicious nature."
"Consider it blood money. A payment for you to finally leave Alan alone."
I had just been discharged from the hospital that day. I stood in the empty house, leaning on my crutches, the gauze on my head still spotted with blood, a dull ache throbbing in my skull as I read their words.
I threw myself into my studies, using them as an anesthetic for the pain. I became the star student at a top high school. No one knew I spent my subway commutes memorizing formulas. I grew taller, my features sharpened, and I became the handsome academic prodigy of the school. No one knew I woke up at dawn every day to run and exercise, to maintain a body that felt healthy and strong.
People started pairing me with the most popular girl in school, another academic powerhouse. We had already made a pact: we would get into the Ivy League together.
And we did. For the first time, it felt like my life was turning around. I couldn't resist. I took a photo with my girlfriend and posted it online.
To my shock, my parents, who hadn't spoken to me in years, left a comment.
"You got into a top university. You've done well."
"To be accepted by a school like that, you must have matured over the years."
They were the same as ever, obsessed with achievement. They finally felt it was safe to come back for a visit.
I should have been cold. I should have ignored them.
But instead, a foolish hope bloomed in my chest. I spent the whole day cooking, preparing a feast. The first thing I did when they arrived was hand Alan a glass of warm milk.
And that was my final mistake.
When my brother started to tremble and cry, claiming he saw me secretly slip rat poison into the glass, I knew it was over.
My own parents dragged me to the police station.
"We were ready to forgive you," my mother hissed, "but you don't deserve it."
"This time, you will pay for what you've done!"
I finally broke. I screamed, I roared, I demanded to know why Alan was so cruel, how he could destroy my life without a shred of guilt.
But he just trembled in Ruby's arms like a delicate flower caught in a storm.
"Brother, I want to ask you the same thing," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Why do you keep trying to kill me?"
Before I could say another word, my father's fist sent me crashing to the floor.
"You bastard! Still trying to intimidate him!"
My mother grabbed my leg and dragged me into the station like a dead dog.
"Save it for the police, you criminal!" she shrieked. "From this day on, you are no longer our son! You're lower than dirt!"
And so it began. My mother, the pharmacology professor, produced a lab report confirming the presence of poison. My father, the law professor, drew up a list of my crimes. Together, they were determined to send me to prison.
In the end, there wasn't enough evidence. I was only detained for a few days. But the damage was done. I was expelled from my university, my reputation was in tatters, and my girlfriend left me. Friends and relatives turned their backs on me. I was kicked out of the house with nothing.
With no degree, I drifted from one dead-end job to another, worse off than I had ever been.
And they? They moved abroad, living their lives as if I had never existed.
Back in the bubble tea shop, Mia was weeping, her heart breaking for me. "They're monsters! How could they not even ask a few questions when your entire future was on the line?"
"They're your parents, Ethan! Your own parents!"
As her heartbroken cry echoed in the small shop, I looked up and saw them. My parents. Standing right there at the counter.

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