✧ past decisions ✧
hunter sat at the kitchen table, his fingers absently tapping against the wood as he watched his little sister scribble away in her notebook, her tongue poking out in concentration. the dining room light flickered slightly—a reminder that the electricity in their old house was never quite reliable, much like everything else in their lives. he leaned over, glancing at her math homework, his tired brain struggling to focus. he hadn’t slept much last night. hadn’t really slept much at all these past few months. between college, working extra shifts, and making sure everything at home didn’t completely fall apart, exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. “alright, what’s giving you trouble?” he asked, rubbing his hands over his face. his sister, barely twelve, huffed and pointed at a particularly long equation. “this. it makes no sense.” hunter sighed, dragging the notebook closer. he used to hate math, but after years of budgeting grocery money and keeping track of late bill payments, numbers didn’t intimidate him anymore. “okay, let’s break it down,” he said, voice softer now, because she didn’t need to hear his frustration—none of this was her fault. she deserved a childhood, not a brother who was too damn tired to function.
as they worked through the problem together, his mind drifted back to what had been eating at him for weeks. college. it had always been the goal, right? the thing his mom wanted for him, the thing she fought so hard to make sure he could have. but what good was college if everything at home was falling apart? their dad was still a ghost of himself, better than he was years ago, but not better enough. hunter was the one making sure his sister got to school, the one keeping the house from collapsing under the weight of grief and neglect. how the hell was he supposed to balance that and a full course load? maybe it was time to stop trying.
he could drop out. get another job. make sure his sister had everything she needed. the thought settled heavy in his chest, like lead weighing him down. “i know that face,” his sister said suddenly, breaking him from his thoughts. she was looking at him now, pencil twirling between her fingers. “that’s your i’m-thinking-about-doing-something-stupid face.” hunter huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “i don’t have a face for that.” the male added. “yes, you do,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. he hesitated. she was just a kid—he shouldn’t put this on her. but she was also his sister, and if there was one thing they both knew too well, it was that honesty was all they had. “i’ve been thinking about... taking a break from school,” he admitted, testing the words out loud. “it’s just—there’s too much going on, and i don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in all this.” her expression darkened instantly. “no.” hunter blinked. “no,” she repeated, folding her arms. “you can’t drop out, hunter. mom wanted you to go to college. you wanted to go to college. you think i don’t see how hard you worked to get there?” she shook her head, her voice quieter now. “you always take care of us. but i don’t want you to give up on something for me.” his throat tightened. “it’s not just for you.”
“then who is it for?” she challenged. “dad? he’s trying, hunter. i know it’s not perfect, but he wants to be better. and me? i’ll be fine. you taught me how to be.” hunter sat there, staring at his sister—this stubborn, brilliant kid who had every reason to crumble under the weight of their lives but never did. “i just don’t know if i can do both,” he admitted after a moment, she shrugged. “so don’t do it alone.” and somehow, those words hit him harder than anything else. because yeah, he’d been doing everything alone for years. he never let anyone in, never asked for help. but maybe it didn’t have to be that way forever. his sister wasn’t done, though. she tilted her head at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes now. “besides,” she added, leaning her elbow on the table, “if you’re so in love with this girl you’ve been talking to—” at her words, hunter groaned immediately, dropping his head onto the table. “oh my god, we are not talking about this.” hunter shook his head. “we are talking about this,” she said, grinning now. “i see the way you check your phone. the way you try not to smile when you get a text. and if you want to get married one day, you kinda need a degree, big brother. girls don’t fall for college dropouts who can’t even afford an apartment.” hunter lifted his head just enough to glare at her. “that’s not how it works.” hunter mused, “oh, it’s how it works,” she teased, tapping her pencil against her chin. “also, you definitely can’t drop out of the football team either. who’s gonna warm the bench for them if you leave?” hunter scoffed, but a laugh slipped through. “first of all, rude.” hunter started, knowing he hadn't played a single minute since the season started. “it’s the truth,” she said sweetly. hunter shook his head, sighing, but the weight in his chest felt a little lighter. maybe she was right. maybe he didn’t have to give up everything. maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to make it work.
