The Forgotten One in the Frame

After the SAT scores are released, Mom says we should get a family portrait taken and hang it in the living room to remember the occasion. The studio lights are already set up. Lavinia Jenkins, the photographer and my childhood friend, cheerfully starts getting everyone into position. "Alright, let's have the parents in the middle and the kids on either side." I move to stand beside my younger brother, Mitchell Simmons. Suddenly, my older sister, Meredith Simmons, puts out a hand to stop me and shoves me aside. "Maxwell, scoot over a little. Mitchell's got his new suit on today. Let him stand in the middle." Mom nods. "Exactly. It looks better with Mitchell in the middle. We're going to get a larger print of this picture." Mitchell is already standing front and center, adjusting his tie with a bright smile. Meanwhile, I'm shoved all the way to the far left, barely making it into the frame. The makeup artist beside me speaks up hesitantly, "Ms. Jenkins, could the guy on the left move a little closer to the middle?" Lavinia waves her off. "No. Leave him there. He just needs to be in the picture." I stay put, watching as half my face disappears into shadow in the shot. It suddenly hits me that there's never really been a place for me in this family. If that's the way they want it, then I don't need to make room for them in my life anymore. Chapter 1 As the photos were being reviewed, my older sister, Meredith Simmons, and Mom crowded around the computer, admiring each shot of my younger brother, Mitchell Simmons. But whenever one of my photos appeared, Meredith didn't even bother to look at the preview and just hit "Delete". I pointed to the photo of me in a button-down shirt in the trash and murmured, "Can we keep this one? I need it for my school ID." Without a second thought, Meredith clicked "Permanently Delete". "Didn't you already have an ID photo taken when you started high school? Just use that one," she said dismissively. Mom nodded. "We only get so many edited photos. Mitchell just needs three more photos to put together an album of his own. Don't waste one of them on yourself." Lavinia Jenkins, my childhood friend and the photographer, picked up her camera again. "Mitch, you need a picture for your school ID too, right? Come on. Let me get one where you look really handsome," she said while directing him into different poses. Mitchell glanced at me, then smiled. "Why don't you take a picture of Maxwell instead? He looks like he's about to cry." Lavinia didn't even look up and kept turning the focus ring on her lens. "He's not photogenic. There's no point wasting a shot on him." I could only stare at her. I thought back to three years ago, when Lavinia had first taken up photography. She was always asking me to pose for her, but I'd hide my face and shy away from the camera. "Why don't you ask Mitchell instead? I'm not photogenic." She smiled, ruffled my hair, and gently said, "Nobody's unphotogenic. You just need a photographer who knows how to see the beauty in everyone. And to me, you're the most beautiful person in the frame." After that, Lavinia showed me the pictures one by one. In the shots taken against the light, a golden rim seemed to trace the outline of my face. I couldn't take my eyes off them. But gradually, more and more of her pictures featured Mitchell instead. Now, the only thing she had to say about me was that there was no point wasting a shot on me. "Maxwell, that's not what I meant." Lavinia seemed to realize only then how badly she'd put it and awkwardly tried to backtrack. "It's just that Mitchell… He's more expressive on camera." Hearing that, Meredith snickered. "Obviously. Mitchell could take a selfie spontaneously and still look good enough to use as his profile picture. Maxwell could spend hours getting ready and still wouldn't come close." I'd been hearing things like that for as long as I could remember. In truth, Mitchell and I were fraternal twins. I was born first, but I seemed to have inherited all the less flattering features from our parents. My features were ordinary, my complexion was darker, and I was shorter and stockier than him. Mitchell, on the other hand, had practically won the genetic lottery. He was so much better-looking than me. During the holidays, Mom always took Mitchell along when they visited relatives, while I was left behind at home. Whenever she went shopping for clothes, she'd carefully choose outfits that suited Mitchell. For me, she'd just pick out a couple of things without giving them a second thought. Mom even took the gold locket Grandma gave me and had Mitchell's name engraved on it, saying gold didn't flatter my tanned skin. I ignored them and headed to the photo studio next door to get another picture taken for my school ID. When I came back out, Mom had bought some cut fruit. It was all Mitchell's favorite—mangoes and pomegranate seeds. Mom pulled on a pair of disposable gloves and fed Mitchell the pomegranate seeds. "Since your school cares so much about how you look, let's make sure you eat well before classes start. Just tell me what you're craving, and I'll get it for you." Meredith took the backpack from Mitchell and started scrolling through recipe videos on her phone. Then, she said, "You said the other day you wanted to try blueberry jam doughnuts. I'll see if I can come up with a lower-sugar version." Lavinia handed him a pack of wet wipes with a smile. "I got tickets to the theme park for three days from now. Why don't we all go together?" "Did you get one for Maxwell, too?" Mitchell asked between bites. Lavinia froze, then quickly pulled out her phone. "I'll get him one right now." "No, it's fine. I'm leaving for Pra—" Before I could finish, Mom shoved the rest of Mitchell's fruit into my hands. "Here. Finish what's left. Don't let it go to waste." Mom turned to Lavinia and said, "Maxwell doesn't like theme parks. He can't stand all the noise, so don't bother getting him a ticket." With that, she took Mitchell by the hand and walked off. Meredith and Lavinia followed behind. One carried his bag while the other held an umbrella over him. They looked like one happy family. Chapter 2 I glanced down at the pomegranate rinds filling my hands, and a laugh escaped me. I tossed them into the trash, pulled out my phone, and booked a train ticket to Pravia for three days later. Mom was right. I'd never liked theme parks. But it wasn't the noise that bothered me. It was the fact that my entire family had once left me behind at one. I was seven years old when Mom took us to a theme park. Before we went inside, she'd reminded us over and over to stay close to the grown-ups and behave. I did as I was told and held on to her hand. But as soon as we entered the park, Mitchell spotted the parade and took off into the crowd. Mom rushed after him, and I stumbled as she pulled me along. Then, her hand slipped from mine, and the crowd swallowed me up. I sat there sobbing until a park employee finally found me and took me to a waiting room. They kept making announcements over the loudspeaker, but no one came for me. Mom didn't come back for me until evening, when she finally showed up with Mitchell beside her. One of the employees frowned at her. "We've been calling for you over the loudspeaker for hours. Why didn't you come get your son?" "I've got three kids, and they're all such a handful," Mom replied with an apologetic smile. "I can't keep an eye on everyone. "Besides, you've got air conditioning and people here to look after the kids. I figured he'd be fine staying here." On the way home, Mom bought me some ice cream to make up for it. Meredith and Mitchell chattered excitedly about all the rides they'd been on that day. As they went on, I watched the fireworks light up the sky outside the car window, the ice cream tasting bitter on my tongue. "Mom, look! Do these look good on me?" Mitchell's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. A pair of gold-rimmed, nonprescription glasses rested on his nose, making his features look even more delicate. The sales assistants gathered around him, showering him with compliments. Mom, on the other hand, couldn't stop smiling. The pair cost over a thousand dollars, and Mitchell didn't even need glasses. Still, she bought them for him without a second thought. When she turned to me, her brows drew together. "Maxwell, I told you not to pick out such expensive frames." My hands stilled on the frames, then I put them back. Instead, I went over to the plastic frames and grabbed the first pair I saw. This time, Lavinia frowned. "Why did you pick those? They're so bulky and ugly. Try another pair." I pressed my lips together. Ever since we'd walked into the store, they'd found something wrong with every pair I'd picked out. They'd just told Mitchell how good one pair looked on him. But when I tried on those same glasses, suddenly they looked plain and awkward. One sales assistant stood nearby with a tray in her hands, wearing a polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Just then, Mitchell yawned and leaned against Meredith's shoulder. "Max, are you done yet? I'm so tired." Meredith glanced at her phone and said, "We've been here for three hours. We should head home." With that, Mom took the receipt, put an arm around Mitchell, and headed for the door without looking back. "Maxwell, your brother's tired. I'll send you the money for your glasses when we get home. You can go pick out a pair yourself before school starts." I simply replied, "Okay." But I knew better than to expect the money to ever show up. After all, this had happened countless times before. Things Mom had promised to buy me would turn into promises of sending me the money later, and then I'd never hear another word about it. At least I only had one more day left at the café. From now on, I could buy the things I wanted with my own money. … The next day, I went to work as usual. With school out for the summer, the café was swamped with orders. I'd barely taken two bites of my lunch when another customer walked in. "Welcome! What—" I looked up, and my eyes met Mitchell's. He looked surprised. "Max? What are you doing working here? Don't tell me you've already blown through the allowance Mom gave you again." The word "again" hit a nerve. Mom hadn't given me any money in three months. The last time she'd sent me anything, it had been less than 300 dollars. Even if I'd lived on the cheapest food I could find, it still wouldn't have been enough to last three months. When I got so hungry that I couldn't take it anymore, I finally asked Mom for more money. But she chewed me out. "Why can't you be more like Mitchell? You get the same amount he does, but he's never complained that it's not enough." Of course Mitchell never complained. Mom visited him every week, treating him to meals and buying him new clothes. On top of that, Meredith sent him money from time to time, as if he might otherwise go hungry. Yet none of them ever stopped to think about how much it cost to feed myself. Even the cheapest meals at school added up to at least 20 dollars a day. How was I supposed to make 300 dollars in the last three months? If it hadn't been for my part-time job and scholarship, I would've starved by now. One of my coworkers noticed how upset I looked and stepped in to take the order. I stood off to one side, listening as Mitchell and a group of classmates talked over one another about this year's SAT. One of them said, "I heard the top scorer in the area goes to Central High School. And apparently, it's a guy. "Mitch, doesn't your brother go there? Does he know who it is?" At that, Mitchell glanced at me. Then, he replied evenly, "He didn't even score high enough to get into college. How would he know who the top student is?" Chapter 3 The day SAT scores were released, my entire family gathered around the computer to check Mitchell's results. When they saw he'd scored just high enough to have a shot at college, they burst into cheers and immediately started planning a celebratory dinner. They then ushered Mitchell out without so much as asking how I'd done. Later, when I didn't ask them for much advice about where to apply, they simply assumed I'd be settling for community college. I sat behind the counter, my face giving nothing away. I didn't bother explaining myself. The doorbell rang again, and Lavinia walked in with her arms full of shopping bags. She headed straight for Mitchell's table and began laying out the gifts she'd brought, including a phone, a tablet, and a laptop. The logos on the boxes seemed to get bigger with every item. I carried the drinks I'd just made over to their table. Lavinia was ruffling Mitchell's hair when she looked up, spotted me, and froze. "Maxwell? What are you doing here?" I pushed down the bitterness rising in my chest before speaking calmly, "I'm working here for the summer." I'd barely set the drinks down when one of Mitchell's classmates, sitting beside him, leaned over and whispered, "Is Lavinia the girl next door who brought you that good luck medal before the exams? She's gorgeous!" My head snapped up. "What medal?" He answered, "Before the practice exams, Mitchell posted that he could use a little extra luck. The very next day, she showed up with a medal. She'd made the trip all the way up Mount Grace just for him!" In the next instant, Mitchell slowly reached into his backpack. He pulled out the pale yellow medal and dangled it between his fingers. "You don't have one, Maxwell? I thought Lavinia got one for both of us." I saw the familiar image of Mount Grace's chapel engraved on the medal, and my chest tightened painfully. My birthday happened to fall on the weekend before the practice exams. Mitchell was in Pravia auditioning for a performing arts program. So, Mom and Meredith got a cake and went to celebrate with him. I was left home alone. After hesitating for a long time, I finally messaged Lavinia and asked if she'd spend the day with me. She agreed but chose Mount Grace as the place to celebrate. When we were kids, Mitchell had once pushed me down the stairs, badly injuring my knee. Ever since, hiking had been torture for me. The trail stretched for more than a mile, and every step was a struggle. By the time we reached the top, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. But when I saw Lavinia in the chapel, her head bowed in prayer, I felt that every step had been worth it. She was praying for success and for everything to go right. I'd foolishly assumed that if I was the one who'd made that whole journey with her, I'd be the one she prayed for. It never crossed my mind that she'd been thinking of someone else all along. I turned to Lavinia. She looked away, unable to meet my eyes. "The priest said he could only bless one medal that day. The exam was very important for Mitchell. If he didn't score well, all those auditions would've been for nothing." But I was taking the SAT that year, too. Initially, I'd planned to tell Lavinia that I'd gotten into University of Pravia. But now, the words caught in my throat. I took a deep breath and turned to leave, but Lavinia quickly called after me. She rummaged through one of her shopping bags before pulling out a flat cardboard box and holding it out to me. "Maxwell, here's your present." I took it. A strip of clear tape was still stuck to the edge, as if the box had simply been torn from some other package. Inside was a language-learning device, still bearing a sticker that read "Free Gift". Lavinia explained, "I happened to walk past a bookstore the other day and saw this device included in a language-learning kit. Thought I'd get one for you. "Even if community college is your only option, you shouldn't give up on yourself. Put in a couple of years of hard work, and you can still transfer to a major institution." At those words, someone snickered. A moment later, the entire table erupted in laughter. "That's ridiculous. My little brother's in sixth grade, and even he doesn't need one of those anymore." Another added, "Maybe he's not even at a sixth-grade level. A little practice couldn't hurt." "Come on, that's enough. Leave him alone." As he spoke, Mitchell slid his new phone toward me. "Max, if you don't like that device, we can switch. You can have everything I got." Lavinia immediately stopped him. "I bought all that for you. Maxwell didn't do well in his exams, so this device is exactly what he needs." I pushed the device toward Mitchell and shot back, "Is that so? Didn't he fail the language section of his exams, too? Seems like he'd get more use out of it." Mitchell's expression faltered, and he looked visibly flustered. Lavinia frowned. "Maxwell, if you thought my gift wasn't expensive enough, you could've just said so. There was no need to take it out on Mitchell." "Oh, so it wasn't expensive enough." I turned and tossed the box into the trash. "I don't want your gift. Don't insult me with some freebie." Lavinia was momentarily stunned. She clearly hadn't expected me to react that way. I used to accept every gift she gave me with delight. Even when it was obvious that Mitchell got so much more, I'd allow myself a moment of disappointment, then remind myself to be grateful for what I had. "Maxwell?" Lavinia called out, sounding uncertain. Without so much as a backward glance, I walked back to the counter. Then, I reached into my pocket, pulled out a little love charm, and tossed it into the trash. It hit the bottom with a soft clink. And somehow, it felt as though a knot inside me had finally come undone. Chapter 4 That evening, I came home with the money I'd made at work. Mom was crouched beside Mitchell's backpack, packing for his trip. As she went, she reminded him, "Looks like it's going to be really sunny these next few days. Make sure you reapply your sunscreen every two hours." Then, she told Meredith, "Mer, keep an eye on your brother. It'll be crowded, so make sure he doesn't get shoved around." Meredith nodded and stuffed her backpack with two big bags of Mitchell's favorite snacks. "Don't worry, Mom. I've got him covered. I won't let anything happen to him." Meanwhile, Mitchell sat cross-legged on his bed. His gaze wandered around the room before settling on the baseball cap on my desk. "Mom, that's a pretty cool hat. I'd look great in pictures wearing it." Without even looking up, Mom grabbed the cap and stuffed it into his backpack. "Maxwell, you're not going anyway. Mitchell can borrow it for the trip." I opened my mouth to say something, then thought better of it. I was leaving soon anyway. There was no point wasting my breath. … By midnight, everyone else was asleep. I dragged an old suitcase out from under my bed, its front covered with a faded cartoon character. Mitchell had begged for it when he was little. Once he outgrew it and decided it was too childish, he handed it down to me. I quietly packed a few of my everyday clothes, then opened the drawer of my nightstand. Inside was my college acceptance letter, tucked into a burgundy folder with the words "University of Pravia" stamped in gold across the front. The gold lettering shimmered faintly in the light. I laid the letter across my knees and ran my fingertips over its edges, over and over. … Early the next morning, Lavinia pulled up outside in her car. She leaned out the window when she saw me, then hesitated. "Maxwell… Why don't you come with us?" Meredith was just coming out of the house when she heard Lavinia's invitation. Irritation crossed her features at once. "Why are we bringing him? We'd be stuck waiting forever to get him a ticket. What if Mitchell gets heatstroke?" Mitchell slid into the passenger seat, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "You want to come too, Max? It's just that I'm used to sleeping alone. I probably wouldn't sleep very well if you came along." Lavinia glanced at Mitchell, then at me, before finally stepping on the accelerator. "Well… take care, Maxwell. I'll take you somewhere fun next time." "Yeah." I stood there watching as the car pulled away and got lost in the morning traffic. Then, I turned and headed back upstairs. Looking around the empty house, I realized I didn't feel anything anymore. I dragged my suitcase out from under the bed, called a cab, and headed straight for the train station. … I'd barely boarded the train when my phone started buzzing. Mitchell had apparently created a group chat called "Fun Trip" and gone out of his way to add me. Pictures kept popping up in the group chat. Then, he texted, "Too bad you couldn't come, Max. I heard there's a fireworks show tonight." Meredith replied immediately, "Who cares about him?" Lavinia didn't respond in the group chat. Instead, she posted on social media. In the photo, Mitchell was wearing a white shirt, and she was nestled in his arms. Her caption read, "No one is looking forward to your 18th birthday more than I am." I went through the photos one by one, then calmly tapped open Lavinia's profile and blocked her. I did the same to Mitchell, Meredith, and Mom. Just as I left the group chat, the train began to pick up speed. I watched the trees streak past outside the window. After 18 years, I was finally free to live my own life.