I Canceled The Banquet And Let Their Plan Burn Chapter 02
She had been playing this exact same card for three years.
Every single time, she would intentionally flaunt things in front of my face, playing the innocent victim, waiting for me to lose my temper and blow up at her. Then she would run straight to my parents in tears, claiming I couldn’t stand her existence.
In the past, I was stupid enough to bite the hook every single time.
This time, I left her on read.
But a second later, my brother’s call blasted through my phone.
“Nadia, what the hell is wrong with you? What’s with the passive-aggressive comment on Lyra’s post?”
“How exactly was I being passive-aggressive?” I asked calmly.
He choked for a moment, then fell back on his usual script: “If you hadn’t hidden her admission ticket—”
I didn’t have the energy to listen to the rest. I hung up the phone and shut it off completely.
When I arrived at Ruby’s house, her parents were in the kitchen baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies.
Ruby’s mom smiled warmly, handing me the sweet, prime center slice of the watermelon. “Just took it out of the fridge, Nadia. It’s incredibly sweet.”
“So, when is your big graduation celebration happening, sweetheart?”
“If you hadn’t spent the last six months tutoring Ruby, she wouldn’t even have made the cut for a decent college. Our whole family is ready to show up with a massive celebratory check for you.”
I forced a polite smile. “Actually, Mrs. Miller, I called off the party. I’m just not really in the mood for big crowds right now.”
Ruby came bursting out of her bedroom, her face a mask of disbelief. “Wait, what? Didn’t you have a whole press interview lined up? Is Lyra throwing another one of her psychotic tantrums?”
Mrs. Miller lightly swatted Ruby’s arm, smoothly changing the subject to give me an out. “Honestly, skipping the fuss sounds peaceful. Come, eat some more watermelon.”
The next morning, Ruby shook my shoulder to wake me up.
“Get up, sleepyhead! My dad’s taking us camping and lakeside tailgating! My mom spent all night marinating Buffalo wings and pork ribs!”
I rubbed my eyes and sat up.
Watching her enthusiastically pack her backpack, a sudden wave of memory hit me. Years ago, my brother used to be exactly like that. He would pound on my bedroom door on weekends, drag me to amusement parks, and make sure I got the best snacks first.
But everything had changed three years ago when my aunt passed away and my mother brought Lyra into our home.
Back then, Lyra was thin, pale, and terrified, standing at our front door without the courage to even lift her head.
But it didn’t take long for me to realize her true colors—whenever my parents or my brother were around, she would rush to do the household chores, always sighing meekly: “Nadia thinks chores are too much trouble, so I don’t mind doing extra.”
When I tried to defend myself and call her out, my mom would only sigh in disappointment: “Nadia, Lyra doesn’t have a mother anymore. You’re the older sister, you need to learn to share and be yielding.”
My brother was even more blunt, accusing me of simply hating the fact that someone else could be well-behaved and considerate.
From that point on, I became the villain of the household—the spoiled, narrow-minded, resentful sister.
“Hey, stop daydreaming! Get in the truck!” Ruby’s shout pulled me back to reality.
I shook my head, grabbed my backpack, and climbed in.
The scenery by the lake was stunning, and the cool breeze instantly cleared my mind. While Ruby and I pitched the tent, Mr. Miller got the grill going, and Mrs. Miller began laying out the marinated wings and ribs.
She smiled and handed me a freezing can of soda. “Here, Nadia, have something cold first.”
As my fingers brushed against the ice-cold aluminum, a profound warmth spread through my chest. This was what a real family was supposed to feel like.
It wasn’t until Ruby asked me to take a picture of her that I remembered my phone was still turned off.
The moment I powered it on, over a dozen missed calls lit up the screen—all from my brother, my mom, and my dad. The family iMessage group chat was at 99+ notifications.
I didn’t even need to open it to know what they were saying. It would be the exact same lectures about how inconsiderate and jealous I was being. I didn’t bother reading. I swiped left and cleared the entire chat history.
The lakeside air grew chilly, and Ruby wrapped herself in a blanket, leaning against me.
“Nadia, I wanted to ask you something,” she started. “My cousin didn’t do well on his exams this year and is planning to retake them. My mom told my Aunt Lillian how you tutored me from the bottom of the class all the way into college, and she wants to hire you as a private tutor.”
“Where does your aunt live?” I asked, turning to look at her.
“Aethelgard,” Ruby said. “I know, it’s like a thousand miles away.”
“But since you’re already moving out that way for college, it’s perfect. Her place is literally a ten-minute walk from Eldridge University.”
“Just a couple of hours on the weekends, and she’ll pay whatever rate you name.”
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated violently in my hand. It was my brother.
Ruby, picking up on the tension instantly, grabbed a rib and bolted away.
The moment I pressed answer, my brother’s voice exploded through the speaker: “Nadia, do you think you’re untouchable now? How dare you turn off your phone?! Did you book Lyra’s hair and makeup artist like you were told?!”
“Let me tell you something, if you keep pulling these petty tantrums, we aren’t paying a single dime toward your college tuition! Figure it out yourself!”
I didn’t yell. I didn’t offer a single explanation.
I only spoke six words: “I don’t need your money.”
I hung up and walked back toward the grill.
Ruby handed me a plate of food. I accepted it, looked her in the eye, and said, “Tell your aunt I’ll take the tutoring job.”
“I can pack up and head out there within the next two days.”
“Are you serious?!” Ruby’s eyes lit up, and she spun around to yell across the campsite, “Mom! Nadia said yes!”
I leaned back against the tent, watching the sun dip below the tree line across the water in the distance. From this day forward, I would never look to my family for shelter again.
