Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

napkin holder, and plucks out a white envelope, tossing it to me.
I grab it, flipping it over to see the Dartmouth return address in the
corner. The envelope is ripped open, and I can feel the letter inside.
“Congratulations,” he tells me before I have a chance to read the letter.
I dart my gaze up to him again as I dig inside the envelope. “You opened
my mail?”
But I don’t wait for a response. Unfolding the piece of paper, I don’t
know if he’s screwing with me, or if I really got in. My heart pounds as I start
reading, taking in one word after the other, holding my breath for the shoe to
drop.
It doesn’t. I read the first couple of sentences over and over, reality
slowly coming into view.
He’s not lying. I got in. I exhale, smiling as I feel like I’m floating all of a
sudden.
I got in. I got into an Ivy League school with a great theater department.
I’m going to Dartmouth.
I squeeze the paper, kind of wishing I could hug someone right now. But
I’m the only person in this house happy about this.
“But what do I know, right?” Macon continues. “I’m just a poor, dumb
redneck who’ll never be more than this. I should be lucky to learn from you.”
My smile slowly falls, and I look up, meeting his brown eyes. We’re the
only two kids—the first and the last—who got our mom’s eyes, but that’s all
we have in common. I respect my oldest brother greatly. He takes care of
things. He’s reliable, honest, and strong.
I don’t really like him much, though. He doesn’t want me to go to
Dartmouth. He doesn’t talk to me other than to parent me.
“You’re the one who pushed me,” I tell him, setting the letter down. “You
wanted me to get out of here. ‘Be someone’, you said. ‘Be remembered’.
That’s what you said.” I can’t help the scowl spreading across my face.
“Dartmouth is ten times the school Florida State is, and you’re still not
happy.”
It takes me less than three seconds to get angry at my family, but Macon
just cocks his head, playing with me. “And what are you studying at
Dartmouth?”
I shake my head. I’m not giving up the theater. It’s my life, not his. “You
want me close so you can reel me in.”
“And you want to fly out of arm’s reach where I can’t.”