Of course he did. Loser.

Her gaze swings back to me. “Liam got an A-plus. There’s no reason you shouldn’t have gotten an A, too.”

That’s like comparing apples and oranges. Liam and the rest of my siblings have giant supersonic brains, whereas I only have a regular one.

Besides, half the class failed that test. She was a bad teacher.

“But, Mo—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. I’m not letting you join football when you’re failing tests, Cole. You need to use the extra time you’d waste playing football to study and get your grades up.” Disappointment swirls in her brown eyes. “Maybe if you were more like your brother—”

Rage simmering under the surface erupts like a volcano.

“I don’t want to be like Liam.” I give him a look that I hope conveys exactly how I feel about him. “I hate him. I wish he was never born.”

“Why is everyone yelling?” Bianca questions as she walks out into the living room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Great. My mother’s other favorite child. Bianca wasn’t just the only girl; she was also the baby of the family and Mom’s little spoiled princess.

“You were supposed to be up twenty minutes ago,” my mother tells her.

“Sorry.” Her face perks up. “We’re still getting my ballerina slippers though, right?” Without waiting for an answer, she adds, “I need the same exact ones Julianna got. There’s a store at the mall—”

“Yes, baby girl. I know.” Smiling, Mom snaps her fingers. “Now go get ready so we can leave.”

Grinning from ear to ear, she runs off.

No way in hell is this fair.

“You’re letting her join ballet, but I can’t join football?”

Jace walks into the room at that moment.

“She won’t let me join,” I snap, glaring between him and our mother.

He has to fix this. He was the one who put a football in my hand to begin with.

Plus, he’s probably the only person who can get her to change her mind.

He’s only a year older than me, but it was becoming apparent mom expected him to take care of us whenever she was sad.

Things were so bad, Jace was starting to feel more like my father than my actual father.

He opens his mouth, but closes it when she says, “Unlike you, Bianca isn’t failing any of her tests.”

Jace raises his hands. “Sorry, man. I’m not arguing with that.”

Of course not. But if I was Liam, he’d have no problem sticking his neck out.

“This isn’t fair.”

She gives me a pointed look. “Life isn’t fair.”

Not one to give up, I say, “Today is the last day to sign up. We can stop there on the way to the mall for Bianca’s dumb shoes. It will only take a second.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighs. “No.” Her face softens. “Show me you can do better in school first and we’ll talk about it, okay?”

She doesn’t understand. Even if they’d allow me to join late, I’d be too far behind. Everyone on the team will have made friends, gotten their numbers, and been assigned their positions.

I don’t want to feel like I don’t belong and have people make fun of me.

I’m not Liam.

“It will be too late by then.”

She looks up at the ceiling. “The answer is no.”

Desperate, I say the one thing I know will upset her. “Fine. I’ll call Dad and ask him.”

Anger mixed with hurt flashes in her eyes. “Yeah, well, good luck getting ahold of him.”

She walks out of the room, dismissing me without another glance.

But this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

I was tired of her comparing me to Liam.

Tired of feeling like I’d never measure up.

Tired of her hurting me.

No matter how much I loved her and wanted her to notice me—she couldn’t love me back. I felt it in my bones.

Kids always know when they’re unwanted.

I follow behind her. “He probably doesn’t pick up the phone for you because he doesn’t like you.”

Jace is hot on my heels as I follow her into the kitchen. “Stop it, Cole.”

No. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

Football was my escape. My one chance to be the best at something and she was taking it away.

“All you do is sleep all day. You don’t even take care of us anymore,” I scream. “I hate you. You’re the worst mom in the whole entire world!”

“No, she’s not!” Liam yells.

“Cole!” Jace snaps.

Paying no mind to my outburst, she looks at Liam. “Want to go to the mall with Bianca and me?”

His face lights up. “Sure.”

I hate him. I hate them.

“Mom,” I plead, my voice cracking. “Please.”

She ruffles Liam’s hair. “Maybe we can pick up that new comic book you’ve been talking about.”

Now she’s just being a jerk and pouring salt in the wound.

I try to snatch her car keys off the kitchen counter, but she’s too quick. “Stop, before I ground you.”

“Go ahead.”

She’s already ruined my life. She might as well banish me to my room. At least then I won’t have to see or talk to Liam. Or her.

“Why is Cole crying?” Bianca questions, and it’s only then I realize there’s wet stuff dripping down my face.

“Mom won’t let him join the football team because he failed his last test,” Liam unhelpfully supplies.

Bianca scrunches her nose. “That sucks.”

I rub my tears away with the back of my sleeve. “I hate you.”

If my mother felt anything from my statement, she doesn’t show it.

Grabbing her purse, she looks at Jace. “Watch your brother while I’m gone.”

I flinch when the front door slams behind her.

It’s over. I lost.

Jace puts a hand on my shoulder. “I bet if you do well on your next test, she’ll reconsider.”

“The last day to sign up is today.”

He mulls this over for a second. “Once they see how good you are, they’re going to want you on their team.”

“What makes you so sure?”

He mock-punches my arm. “This arm of yours.”

“Whatever.”

I wasn’t done feeling sorry for myself because there was no guarantee they’d let me sign up late.

“How about we make a deal?”

“What kind of deal?”

“I’ll help you study for your next test, if you promise to ease up on Mom a little.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure. Take her side.”

“She’s going through a lot, Cole.”

“She’s ruining my life.”

He grabs some juice from the fridge. “No, she’s not. She just wants what’s best for you.”

“What’s best for me is football.”

“Well, you need to prove that by passing your next test. Show her how much you want it and how hard you’re willing to work for it.”

I don’t want it…I need it.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”