Kimberly had learned to live in the spaces Summer left behind.
At school, she waited until Summer and her friends had claimed the best cafeteria table before she dared to sit down anywhere else. At church, she lingered at the back until Summer glided past the pews, then slipped quietly into a corner seat. At home, she waited for her parents' attention to drift from Summer—though it rarely did—before speaking.
It had become her rhythm: waiting, watching, swallowing the hurt.
But that spring, for the first time in her life, Kimberly thought things might be different.
It began with Ethan.
He wasn't like the others—at least, that's what Kimberly told herself. He was tall, a little awkward, with a smile that didn't seem rehearsed. He noticed her curves, not with mockery but with something close to admiration. When he told her, "You look good in that dress," she nearly cried from the simple kindness of it.
They walked together after school, sometimes as far as the old railway bridge. Ethan talked about leaving town, about wanting something larger than their small world. He asked Kimberly about her hobbies, her thoughts, her dreams. No one ever asked her those things.
For the first time, she felt seen.
And it mattered even more because Kimberly was the older sister. Summer was still only fifteen—still the family jewel—but Ethan chose her. Kimberly told herself this was proof that she wasn't invisible. Proof that womanhood carried its own kind of beauty.
She didn't tell Summer about Ethan. She kept him like a secret treasure, too fragile to expose to the golden light of her sister's presence.
But Summer always had a way of finding what didn't belong to her.
---
It happened one Saturday afternoon, during a barbecue in their backyard. The air smelled of charcoal and sweet corn. Kimberly wore her best dress, a pale yellow that hugged her curves just enough to make her feel hopeful. Ethan was coming.
When he arrived, his smile was for Kimberly. Her heart soared.
For the first hour, everything was perfect—they laughed by the grill, shared inside jokes, even made plans for the next weekend. Kimberly caught her parents watching from the patio. They said nothing, but for a fleeting second she thought—finally. Finally, they'll see someone finally chooses me.
Then Summer appeared.
She stepped into the yard in a sundress the color of sea foam, her hair tumbling over her shoulders as if the day itself had arranged it.
Ethan's eyes flicked toward her—just for a moment. But Kimberly saw it. She always saw it.
Summer wandered closer, her voice sweet and careless. "I didn't know you were here, Ethan. Kimberly didn't tell me she had such good company."
Kimberly froze. Ethan laughed nervously. And then Summer touched his arm.
It was always the same: a smile, a touch, a stolen glance. The pattern that devoured everything Kimberly tried to hold.
And just like that, her secret treasure was no longer hers.
---
That night, Kimberly begged her parents to listen. She told them about Ethan, about how much she cared for him, about how Summer always took everything. Her voice broke. Her chest ached. She spoke with the desperation of someone clinging to the last scrap of dignity.
Her father sighed, heavy with impatience. "Kimberly, you mustn't be jealous of your sister. It's not her fault men prefer beauty."
Her mother added softly, almost kindly, "One day, you'll find someone who settles for you. But you can't expect to keep up with Summer."
The words pressed down on Kimberly's chest until she couldn't breathe. Settle for you. They weren't just dismissals—they were a sentence, a prophecy she could never escape.