While I pulled the jacket off and held it in my hands, running my fingers over the fabric. For a moment, I hesitated, then brought it closer, inhaling the faint scent that clung to it. It smelled faintly of delightful perfume and something warm I couldn't quite place.
For now, though, it seemed I'd be holding onto a piece of him a little longer.
"Wow, Taryn. Didn't know you were into sniffing jackets now."
I froze, my heart leaping into my throat as I spun around to see Devon leaning casually against the kitchen doorframe, a smug grin plastered across his face.
"Devon!" I hissed, my cheeks burning as I clutched the jacket to my chest. "What are you doing here?"
"Duh? I also live here and I am your only younger brother," he said, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "But this? This is another achievement for you. Should I call this a love champion and let the whole neighborhood know how much you're enjoying your lover's jacket?"
"Don't you dare," I glared at him. "It's not what you think."
"Oh, sure," he said, his grin widening. "You're just... what? Testing the fabric? Making sure it's breathable?"
"For a younger brother, you sure talk a lot."
"It is what you call, siblings. Don't you know that?"
I groaned, shoving the jacket into a neat fold and placing it on my desk. "You're the worst."
"And yet, here I am, making your life more interesting," he said, winking as he ran off back to the kitchen.
I found Jia standing by the counter, humming softly as she stirred a pot of what looked like hot chocolate.
"Is that... a love song?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I leaned against the doorway.
Jia turned, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Maybe. Why? Feeling inspired after your little library date?"
"It wasn't a date, I already told you this," I said quickly, though the heat in my cheeks betrayed me.
"Yeah," she said, her tone teasing as she began to sing the lyrics louder, her voice surprisingly melodic. "Two hearts under the stars, sharing secrets near and far..."
"Jia, stop," I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "You're worse than Devon."
"Speaking of Devon," she said, her grin widening, "he told me about the jacket. Care to explain?"
I groaned again, sinking into one of the kitchen chairs. "It's not what you think. Zichen was just being nice. I forgot to give it back, that's all."
"Sure," Jia said, her voice dripping with mock disbelief. "And you just happened to be hugging it because...?"
"Because I was folding it!" I said, exasperated. "Can we drop this, please?"
Jia laughed, her teasing finally subsiding as she poured two mugs of hot chocolate and handed one to me.
I took a sip of the hot chocolate, the warmth spreading through me.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs signaled Grandma's return, and I quickly changed the subject, asking Jia about her plans for the following day.
Grandpa was still in the living room, muttering to himself as he fiddled with his tablet, the occasional beep breaking the silence.
As I climbed the stairs to my room, I couldn't help but feel a small smile tugging at my lips. My days had been long and complicated, but this one small thing—a jacket and the person who'd given it to me—somehow made it feel a little brighter.
As I grabbed my towel and prepared to head for the shower, I heard Grandpa's voice float up the stairs, his tone firm but gentle.
"Taryn! Your parents are trying to reach you. Come down, please."
I froze for a moment, my hands clutching the towel tightly. Thoughts swirled in my mind—why would they be calling now? It had been a while since we last spoke, and I'd gotten used to their absence. I sighed, draping the towel over my arm, and left my room.
When I reached the landing, Jia and Devon exchanged a glance and hurried upstairs.
"What's going on? ," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head as I descended the last few steps.
Grandpa was perched on his favorite armchair in the living room, while Grandma sat beside him, her knitting needles clicking softly.
They both gave me encouraging nods as I passed by, their presence grounding me as I made my way to the kitchen.
The tablet rested on the counter, the two separate video walls in LineConnect call already connected. I stepped into view, my heart pounding slightly at the sight of my parents' faces.
"Good that you are focus on the research project, Taryn," Mom said, her voice filled with approval. "Jia have been speaking highly of you. This is the kind of dedication we knew you were capable of."
I nodded. Ignoring the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Dad's face softened into a rare smile.
"You're finally putting your energy into something worthwhile. This research could open doors for you, Taryn—big ones. Keep it up."
But then, the tone shifted, as I knew it would. It always did.
"And then there's this track thing," Dad said, his voice sharp, the smile fading.
"Winning the district championship—what exactly are you hoping to achieve with that? Running won't get you anywhere."
My cheeks burned, the warmth from the earlier teasing replaced by a cold rush of discomfort. "It's not about just achieving anything," I said quietly. "I just…love it."
Mom shook her head, her expression stern. "Enjoyment is a luxury you can't afford right now, Taryn. Focus on what matters—the things that will actually secure your future. This track business is a distraction."
Her words stung, the sharp edges cutting deeper than I wanted to admit.
I gripped the edge of the counter, trying to steady myself, though the weight of their disappointment pressed down heavily on me.
"But it's not just a distraction," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound calm. "I worked hard for this—I trained, I pushed myself. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"It means you're wasting time," Dad said bluntly, his tone unyielding. "You can't waste your potential chasing something that has no real value."
I bit my lip, forcing back the flood of emotions threatening to spill out. "I'm not wasting anything," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I get it—you don't care about this. You never have."
For a moment, there was silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.
The screen flickered, and then the call abruptly disconnected.
I stared at the blank tablet for a moment, my breathing unsteady as the weight of my parents' words pressed down on me.
They hadn't even compared me to Jia or Devon—no snide comments about my siblings' achievements this time.
But somehow, that made it worse. It wasn't that they held me up against others; it was that they didn't even see the value in what I'd done.