My stepbrother hated me, but I just loved clinging to him.

He once spent 3,000 dollars just so I would not walk home with him after school.

Then, he dropped another 30,000 dollars to have me transferred to a different class.

But no matter what he did, I always found my way back to him.

After the SAT, he transferred a huge amount to my bank card and said coldly, "This is 800,000. Go study abroad. And don't ever show up at my house again."

My eyes turned red as I looked down and whispered, "Okay."

Yes!

He finally took the bait!

***

I caught Erik Svensson trying to kiss a girl from a poor family.

Inside the dim room, he was slouched on the corner sofa, half-asleep, his sharp features hidden in the shadows.

The girl in the white dress stood next to him, hands on either side of his legs, slowly leaning down like she was working up the nerve.

When I pushed the door open, she jumped and looked at me like a deer in headlights, eyes all shiny and panicked.

"Hallie, I..."

I ignored her and walked straight to Erik. "The driver's here. Uncle told me to take you home too."

He grabbed his jacket, threw it on, and followed me out. The hallway was mostly empty as it was late.

He shut the door behind him but did not move. Instead, he just leaned against it casually.

"She almost kissed me," he said.

I kept quiet. He sounded a little annoyed. "She's super shy. Probably took all her courage to even try."

I unlocked my phone, pulled up the time and the message my stepdad had sent, and showed it to him.

"He really did ask me to pick you up."

He glanced at it. "Oh."

"I'm an adult now, and the SAT is over. He can't boss me around anymore. You telling on me won't change anything."

The overhead light shifted slightly, lighting up his face and eyes. His cheeks were flushed—he was drunk.

I clenched the sleeves of my hoodie, my voice barely a whisper. "But..."

"You can go back alone," he cut me off. "And—"

He tapped something into his phone.

"This is 800,000. Go study abroad. Don't come back to my house."

"Let's just stop seeing each other."

"Hallie Nilsson, I really hate you."

He meant it. He never wanted to see me again.

My eyes stung instantly. I ducked my head, trying to keep it together.

"Okay."

He turned, walked back inside, and slammed the door.

I opened my banking app and saw the numbers. Then, I could not hold myself back anymore.

I squatted down in the hallway, hand over my mouth, and burst out laughing.

Heck yeah!

He finally fell for it!

Erik has hated me for as long as I can remember.

He thinks my mother and I are just here to mooch off the Svensson family's money, so he has always been on high alert.

When I was 14, he put two geckos on my bed just to scare me into leaving the house. I cried like crazy.

My stepdad felt bad and handed me some pocket money. The moment I saw the cash, I stopped crying.

When I was 16, Erik and I ended up at the same high school.

He did not want to be in the same class as me—and he definitely did not want his dad scolding him and comforting me again—so he cut straight to the point.

"Thirty thousand," he said. "Transfer out of this class."

So I did.

I switched schools for my first year. But second year? I came back. He did not say I could not.

When I walked into the classroom with my bag on my back, Erik looked like a storm cloud.

The boy in front of him grinned and said, "Erik, your sister's really got guts."

Erik shot back, stone cold, "She's not my sister."

Everyone around us laughed like they knew something.

He stared at me, brows furrowed. "What do you want from me to stay the hell out of my sight?"

My eyes went red. "Do you really hate me that much?"

He gave me a number.

I bit my lip. "Oops, looks like I signed up for the wrong class again."

At that moment, I saw a business opportunity.

Erik is filthy rich. His mother lives overseas and practically laid out his future for him.

When he played golf, I would be there cheering him on, handing him water, and draping a coat over his shoulders. Eventually, he could not take it anymore and asked what I was doing.

I looked up at him, eyes wide and sparkly. "I just admire my brother. Is that so wrong?"

He sent me some money and said, "If you've got nothing to do, go take a walk. Stop bothering me."

So, naturally, I smiled and accepted it.

I have been clinging to Erik for over a year now. Everyone knows he has a clingy stepsister, and they even tease him about it. After a while, Erik stopped trying to explain. He just kept shoving money at me, telling me to get lost.

However, I am not about to walk away from my personal ATM.

On his coming-of-age night, he drank a little too much. When we got back from the hotel, I was holding hangover medicine in one hand and supporting him with the other, secretly hoping that in his drunken haze, he would add an extra zero to the transfer.

He squinted down at me and suddenly said, "Hallie, you're really something. So scheming and clever." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

I froze halfway up the stairs. I would need more money for the insults.

Then, out of nowhere, he grabbed me by the waist, flipped off the lights, pushed me up against the spiral staircase railing, and kissed me.

The world went dark in a flash. All I could see were his eyes and eyebrows. They were way too close, and the air around him was overwhelming like a storm.

Shocked, I shoved him away. The pill bottle in my hand dropped, crashing and clattering down the stairs.

From upstairs, my stepdad called out, "Hallie, what's going on?"

Holding back the shake in my voice, I cried like always, "Erik's drunk again. He threw the pill bottle in a fit of rage."

Erik leaned silently against the railing in the dark.

My stepdad sighed. "He's always like that when he drinks. Don't take it to heart. Go rest, I'll take care of him."

I ran back to my room.

At 3 a.m., Erik messaged me.

"Sorry."

"I didn't see clearly. Thought you were someone else."

It was the first time he ever apologized to me, and it felt like an insult. He attached a money transfer, too.

But I left him on read and did not accept the money.

Later, I figured out who she was.

Her name is Margo Kolbeck—one of Erik's admirers.

She has always ranked in the top ten in our grade, quiet and timid, the kind of girl who stares at him from across the classroom but never dares to get close.

Still, Erik noticed her.

He once said, "She's just like Hallie, always looking all sad and helpless.

"Who is she putting on that act for?"

He says he hates me, but turns around and likes seeing that same look on Margo's face.

One afternoon after school, I was waiting in the car for him, as usual, until I spotted a girl in a school uniform trailing behind him.

The door opened, but Erik did not get in. Instead, he stood there holding her schoolbag, raised an eyebrow at me, and said super casually, "Get out."

I froze for a second.

Margo gently tugged on his sleeve, her voice soft and careful. "Don't worry about it, Erik."

"I can go home on my own."

Yet, Erik did not budge. His voice turned cold. "I want to take her home."

"I already transferred you the money. Go grab a cab."

I thought to myself, "Why not just send me a little extra so I can buy a car and never ride with you again?" Whatever. I should know when to quit.

I nodded stiffly, bit my lip, tightened the straps on my backpack, and got out without another word.

The street was nearly empty in the evening light. I stood on the curb with my head down, staring at my shoes as silent tears slid down my cheeks.

It was not until their car pulled away in the opposite direction that I wiped my face and checked his message.

Three thousand? Good thing I did not read that in front of him, or else it would have ruined my act.

Erik ended up sending me that 800,000 dollars a little too late. I had not started prepping for the Goethe exam, so I had to cancel nearly all my travel plans and social stuff just to study in my room like crazy.

Downstairs, Erik was throwing a party with his friends. The music was blasting through the walls.

I finally pulled off my headphones and went downstairs. "Can you turn it down a bit?"

One of his friends patted the seat next to him and grinned. "Hallie, you're home already. Why not hang out with us?"

I gave a small smile. "I'm studying upstairs."

"Studying?"

They actually paused the music to hear me out.

"I thought people who study all the time only existed online."

"Margo's here, too. Come join us."

Erik never looked at me. Margo sat right next to him, smiled sweetly, then hesitated before asking me gently. "Hallie, are you planning to retake the exam?"

I was not familiar with her, yet she was being so sweet to me. It seemed that she was indeed in a relationship with Erik.

She kept going, "It's okay if your scores weren't great."

"With how rich Mr. Svensson is, you'll still have tons of options, right?"

The moment she said that, the room went quiet.

I smiled politely and said, "Yeah, my family's rich. Test scores don't really matter for me."

"Margo, are you worried about not doing well?"

Her face went pale. That was when Erik finally looked up. He gently patted the back of her hand like he was comforting her.

"Hallie, that's enough."

I gave a small nod. "Okay."

"I'm heading back upstairs to study. Try to keep it down."

I slipped my headphones back on and headed up the stairs, but I could feel a few pairs of eyes following me.

Their stares clung to my back, making my skin crawl.

On the day our scores came out, Margo was at our house again. Her excuse this time?

Her ancient computer had finally died. And even though everyone knew the exam board would send scores via text, Erik still let her tag along and brought her home.

Around 3 p.m., I could hear faint sobbing coming from the study. It was hard to tell if she was crying from happiness or disappointment.

I was about to head to class and passed by the study. The door was not fully closed. At this moment, Erik was leaning against the bookshelf, reading the scores out loud.

"A thousand and three hundred," he said. Perfect timing—just enough for me to hear. He knew I was walking past, but he did not even look up.

"And you?"

Margo sounded lost. "Huh?"

I was downstairs, switching shoes. I answered casually, loud enough to carry, "A thousand and three hundred ten."

I had been waiting for him to ask.

Something clattered to the floor upstairs.

Later that evening, Erik stood at my door and said, "My dad wants you to apply to Penn State."

My stepdad is big on academics and super traditional. He thinks nothing earns respect more than getting his kids into a top school.

I had my hand on the doorknob and was ready to close it. "Didn't you tell me to go abroad?"

He was quiet for a moment, then gave a half-smile. "Are you that obedient?"

I have already taken the money, so how could I not listen? However, in the past, I had only half-listened anyway.

He told me to leave, and I would—for maybe an hour, then come back. Yet, this time was different. It was 800,000, and I promised I would take it and disappear for good.

He raised an eyebrow. "So now you're disobeying my dad?"

At home, I always put on my best 'good girl' act. I lowered my head, bit my lip, and fiddled with the hem of my skirt.

"Give me your password," he said. "I'll fill in the application for you."

I mumbled, "Just don't send me to the middle of nowhere..."

Erik laughed. "You know I wouldn't."

No, I do not.

And honestly? I do not care anymore.

I was already planning to accept the overseas offer anyway.

***

To play it safe, Erik put down College of Agricultural Sciences for himself and mechanics for Margo when applying to Penn State. His mom had money and connections, and honestly, he only cared about the school's name, not the major.

As for me? He filled out several school options—all in Nevada. I had to sit there and delete them one by one.

In the end, both he and Margo got accepted. My stepdad was over the moon and even planned a fancy graduation dinner. At the table, he opened an expensive bottle of red wine and clinked glasses with my mom.

Erik came down the stairs mid-meal and casually asked, "Hallie, wanna have a joint grad party with me?"

We had done one together back after the SAT, too.

My stepdad gave a light chuckle. "Let's skip it this time."

"She's planning to study abroad. Didn't want to take up someone else's spot, so she cleared all her choices.

"She'll do her thing next year."

The smile on Erik's face dropped in an instant. His whole vibe turned cold.

"Studying abroad?"

I kept my head down, poking at my food and occasionally sipping on the ridiculously expensive red wine.

My stepdad frowned a bit. "Yeah. It was kind of a last-minute call, but I totally support Hallie."

He looked at Erik, confused. "Why the long face on such a big day?"

Erik muttered, eyes down, "I'm just not that happy."

My stepdad blinked. "Didn't you say you wanted to go to the same school as the girl you liked? You got into Penn State. What's there to be upset about?

"Sure, the major's not great, but you can switch later. I'm not actually gonna make you plant crops for a living.

"Oh, and your mom's thrilled. She wants you to spend a month with her over summer break."

Erik narrowed his eyes. "Which country?"

My stepdad slammed his hand on the table. "You don't even know where your own mother lives?"

Erik turned to me. "I'm asking Hallie."

My stepdad continued eating again, acting like nothing happened.

I gently set my glass down and looked up carefully.

"I haven't decided yet."

That night, Erik was in my room using my computer—his was broken. Margo had spilled a cup of water earlier when she saw her admission results and got too excited.

He had taken over my chair, so I had no choice but to sit on the bed. The room was super quiet—just the sound of him typing and clicking away.

"You should go to France," he said out of nowhere.

"Why?"

He paused. "To stay away from me."

Of course. That is where his mom lives.

I looked at him. He scooted his chair even farther away like I might catch fire.

Then he glanced back at me, the corner of his mouth curling just barely. "Come take a look at this school."

He was back to playing big brother again. So unpredictable.

The A/C was on low, and the floor was freezing. I stepped off the bed barefoot, then quickly tucked my feet back in and glanced around for slippers.

Without looking up, Erik tossed his jacket to the floor. "Step on that."

He started acting weird before drinking. I ignored him and tiptoed my way over to the desk instead.

He did not react and just moved the mouse slightly. "What do you think?"

"Not bad," I said.

He clicked around to a few different pages.

"Not bad," I repeated.

"Anything's fine."

Erik leaned back in the chair and looked up at me.

Truth is, I had already made my choice. I just did not want to tell him.

Outside, a sudden summer storm rolled in, rain pattering against the windows.

Then he asked, so quietly the rain almost drowned it out, "Are you mad at me?"

Such a stupid question.

I thought about it seriously for a second. Then, I said honestly, "No."

I was, in the beginning. Erik used to bully me and constantly told me to get out of the family. Said I was just like my mom—a gold digger who only cared about money.

Sure, my mom had a little money too, but not on the level of his family. And at school? He never treated me any better there either.

But honestly, my cold, distant stepbrother turning into a warm number in my bank account kind of made it all bearable. I stopped caring much about how he acted.

I actually saw him as a weird sort of benefactor for asking me to go abroad out of spite.

Now, though, I could not even be bothered to play the part anymore. There was no point.

Then he asked me, "Was it all just to retreat in order to advance?"

That one threw me a little. I mean, yeah, acting soft and accepting his money could look like a strategy. Yet, it was not in the way he thought.

I pressed my lips together, like I was about to explain, and then stopped myself.

Just then, his phone lit up on the table. Margo was calling. He hesitated for a second, picked it up, and stepped out.

Before shutting the door, I heard him say gently, "Sorry, I couldn't answer earlier."

He was so good with words.

He just never used them kindly with me.

Erik took Margo on a trip.

She posted photos on her Instagram. On the beach, she was wearing a straw hat and a white dress, smiling like she was in a movie.

The caption said, "He said he wanted to raise me all over again."

"He wants to throw a banquet for the child version of me."

I gave it a like. Then, Margo sent me a private photo. It was a photo of Erik asleep, lying on a picnic table.

"Hallie, it's a good thing you didn't come."

"Traveling is exhausting—staying home is way better."

I stared at it for a while.

Why is he sleeping outside? Did they run out of money? Is he gonna try and get his money back?

Feeling a little uneasy, I finally replied, carefully, "Then let him rest properly—don't let him wear himself out."

She typed for a long time.

"Hallie, I think we should talk."

"You and Erik are both adults. You're not related by blood; there should be boundaries between siblings like that..."

I stared at her long message, not saying anything.

After a pause, I just replied, "OK."

That summer, I passed the Goethe exam, got all my documents in order, and started sending out my applications. Some schools were already accepting students with SAT scores or AST results, and I was aiming to get in this year.

By mid-August, Erik had already gone off to university while I was still at home.

Our house was not far from his school, so after his Freshers' Week, he came home most weekends. We did not talk much, but we would run into each other. Sometimes, Margo came back with him.

The first time she followed him in, she saw me sitting on the couch reading and looked genuinely surprised, but still tried to act like we were close.

"So Hallie hasn't gotten her offer yet? Guess that means she'll have to enroll next year?"

Erik pressed his lips together. "Maybe."

Then she gasped like she realized something big. "So you'll graduate a whole year after us?"

I replied calmly, "The program I applied to only lasts three years."

She suddenly looked awkward, biting her lip as if unsure what to say. Then, she turned to Erik. "I didn't know that..."

Erik said flatly, "It's normal not to know.

"We started from different places. Knowing stuff doesn't make you better than anyone."

It felt like I was being shaded. I had no idea what I had done to annoy them, but I was not in the mood to argue. So, I closed my book and headed upstairs.

Erik called after me. "Which school?"

I looked back. Sunlight streamed through the windows and lit up the stairs.

I smiled at him and said, "Better not say. Don't want to come off too superior."

In mid-September, my mom and stepdad took me to the airport on a weekday. He originally wanted Erik to take time off to send me off, but I declined.

"Erik never liked me anyway, so no need to trouble him."

I left just like that. In a way, it was probably what he wanted.

Once the plane leveled out, I opened the window shade, but all I could see were clouds—no trace of the ground. The flight was long. I pulled the blanket over myself and dozed off.

Then I had a dream. Of Erik.

He was 14. Someone in the family had told him maliciously that his mom was coming. He ran out, eyes bright with hope—only to see me and my mom standing at the door.

My first impression of him was just gloom. He was pale, skinny, and had a cold stare like he had already decided not to like me.

My stepdad was always busy, and Erik's biological mom was living abroad. So, I used to think that must have made him really lonely. That was before I found two geckos hidden in my blanket one night.

We had a cold war for most of our teenage years.

My stepdad only ever punished Erik. He was the real son, so discipline was expected. My mom, on the other hand, never laid a hand on me. I was spoiled.

There was a time I thought about being kinder to him. However, being kind to a guy like him would always turn out badly.

Like the first time I baked a cake—I offered him a slice, and he dumped it straight in the trash. Or the time I got my first love letter—he ripped it up.

During his rebellious years, he would not say much. He would just glare and repeat one word to me, over and over, "Hate."

He hated sharing the same house with me. Hated how I always looked innocent, like I had never done anything wrong. So, I got so mad I stopped talking to him for two months.

When high school started, he was the one who finally spoke to me.

His first sentence? That he still hated me, and I should switch classes.

Second sentence? He gave me 30,000 dollars.

"That should do it, right?"

I smiled sweetly. "Sure."

"But..."

He cut me off, throwing the contract he willingly gave me onto the table, sneering, "How materialistic."

When I landed in Munich, I rented a little place and started figuring out how to live alone.

At first, I could not handle the classes in German or the bland food. I was moody and homesick.

A week after I left, Erik messaged me, "Left without saying goodbye?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

I stared at the screen for a while before typing.

"Because I hate you, too."

"Didn't think it was worth telling you."

Before taking his money, I would never have dared say stuff like that. I thought it was pointless to argue with someone so starved for affection. But now?

I was homesick, miserable, and honestly did not care how he felt.

He never replied. Instead, Margo called. She was crying.

"What did you say to Erik?"

I answered casually, flipping through a book. "Nothing."

"He blocked me everywhere..."

I closed the book. "Maybe he drank too much and is throwing another tantrum. Just wait for him to sober up and regret it."

Then I hung up.