Four Of A Kind-Chapter 133: [3.35] Self-Preservation

She hesitated. "I mean, no, but—"

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a call. She glanced at me apologetically. "It’s Vivienne. I have to take this. She never calls unless it’s important."

Before I could object, she answered. "Hi, Vivi! What’s up? ... No, I’m at school, in the library with Isaiah. He’s helping me with calculus ... No, I haven’t forgotten ... Yes, I’ll go with him to pick up our dry cleaning after school ... Yes, I know the blue dress is for Saturday ... No, I won’t let them press it wrong like last time ... Okay, love you too, bye!"

She hung up and sighed. "Sorry about that. Vivienne’s stressed about the Lumière launch party and she’s turning into a tiny dictator."

I tapped my pencil against the table. "Harlow, I think I see the problem."

"With integrals?"

"With your studying habits. It’s not that you don’t understand the material. You actually pick it up pretty quickly when you focus. The issue is that you never prioritize your own work because you’re too busy helping everyone else with theirs."

She blinked at me, genuinely confused. "But that’s what sisters do. And friends."

"Yes, but you need to put your own oxygen mask on first, as they say."

"What do airplane safety instructions have to do with calculus?"

I struggled to find a way to explain this that would make sense to her. "Look, when’s the last time you said no to someone who asked for your help?"

Her brow furrowed. "Um... I don’t think I ever have? That would be so mean."

"Even when you have your own work to do?"

"Well, my stuff can wait. Other people’s problems are more important."

And there it was. The core of Harlow Valentine’s C+ in calculus had nothing to do with mathematics and everything to do with her pathological need to help everyone but herself.

"Okay," I said, taking a different approach. "Let me ask you this: if Cassidy was struggling with math, would you tell her to drop everything and help Vivienne with dry cleaning?"

"Of course not! Cassidy needs to focus on her studies."

"And what about you? Don’t you need to focus on your studies too?"

Her mouth opened, then closed again. For perhaps the first time since I’d met her, Harlow Valentine was speechless.

"But it’s different," she finally said in a small voice. "I’m just... me."

Something about the way she said it made my chest tighten uncomfortably. Behind all the bouncing energy and perpetual cheerfulness, there was a girl who genuinely believed she mattered less than everyone around her.

"Harlow," I said gently, "your grades matter too. Your time matters. You matter."

She stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language.

"But I’m the happy one," she said, as if explaining something obvious. "That’s my job in the family. Sabrina is the smart one, Vivienne is the perfect one, Cassidy is the strong one, and I’m the one who makes sure everyone is okay."

"That’s not a job description, that’s a prison sentence."

She flinched.

"Sorry," I said, realizing I’d been too harsh. "Look, I get it. Families fall into patterns. Everyone has their role. But you don’t have to sacrifice your own success to make other people happy."

I-fucking ronic.

Her phone buzzed yet again. She glanced at it automatically, then, with visible effort, pushed it farther away.

"I don’t know how to say no to people," she admitted. "Especially my sisters. After Dad died... I promised myself I’d keep us all connected, you know? That I’d be the glue."

I nodded, understanding all too well. After our mother left, I’d made similar promises about Iris. I’d sworn I would give her a normal childhood, that I’d be both brother and parent, that I’d shield her from how badly the world could hurt you.

"It’s a heavy job for one person," I said.

She traced a pattern on the table with her finger. "I don’t mind, usually. I like helping. I like making people smile."

"I know you do. But right now, we need to help you ace calculus, which means learning to set some boundaries."

I reached over and picked up her phone, holding it out to her. "First step: turn this off for the next forty-five minutes."

She hesitated, then took the phone and powered it down completely. The action seemed to physically pain her.

"What if—"

"The school will call if there’s an actual emergency," I assured her. "And your sisters will call me. Everything else can wait less than an hour."

She nodded, though she kept glancing at the now-dark phone like it might spring back to life and accuse her of abandonment.

"Now," I said, pulling her calculus book closer, "let’s try a few more integrals. No interruptions, no distractions. Just you and the math."

For the next forty minutes, I walked her through problem after problem, building from simple integrals to more complex ones. When she got stuck, I guided her back to the principles, showing her patterns and shortcuts that made the work more intuitive. Without the constant interruptions, she proved to be a quick study, grasping concepts faster than I expected.

"This is actually kind of fun," she admitted after solving a particularly tricky problem. "It’s like a puzzle."

"See what happens when you give yourself permission to focus?"

She smiled, but there was something wistful in it. "It feels weird, though. Like I’m forgetting something important."

"The only important thing right now is this integral," I tapped the next problem in her textbook. "Everything and everyone else can survive without Harlow Valentine’s attention for a little while longer."

She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for an impossible task. "Okay. One more hour of selfishness, and then I’ll go back to being helpful."

"It’s not selfishness to prioritize your own education," I corrected. "It’s self-preservation. If you want to be useful to others long-term, you need to take care of yourself first."

"That sounds like something Vivienne would say, except she’d add charts and a cost-benefit analysis."

I laughed. "Well, she wouldn’t be wrong."

When the period was almost over, I assigned Harlow a set of practice problems and made her promise to try them that evening with her phone turned off for at least one hour.

As we packed up our things, she suddenly threw her arms around me in a tight hug. "Thank you," she murmured against my shoulder. "No one’s ever told me it’s okay to put myself first before." 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

I froze, unsure how to react to this unexpected display. After a moment, I awkwardly patted her back. "You’re welcome. It’s just common sense."

She pulled away, her cheeks slightly pink. "Common sense isn’t actually that common, you know. Especially not in my family." She shouldered her bag, already bouncing slightly as her natural energy reasserted itself.

"See you after school!"