Page 62 of A Stealthy Situation
Just the sight of him calms me.
“Dude, what the fuck? Why are we panicking?”
“Benny, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
“That Harrison is Bowser.”
I stare at him for a beat. “What?”
He presses his face into his hands and lets out a short, raspy scream. “Okay. So. I kind of fucked up.”
“Get to the point. Faster.”
“Right.” He bares his teeth like he really doesn’t want to continue, but he fucking better because I’m about to strangle it out of him. “You know how we’ve always had that sort of loose kind of rule about not talking to anyone in classes and pretending to be the other person for real?”
My gut sinks. “Not a loose kind of rule. An actual rule that we’ve always been super careful to stick to and I always, always did for you.”
Em looks like he’s going to cry, and it takes me aback. My brother never cries. He might be the sweet, kind one out of the two of us, but as close as we are, as much as we’ve been through, since we hit preteen age, he’s only ever cried once from what I can remember. Whereas whenever I get frustrated, I can’t see through the fucked-up, angry tears that won’t leave me alone.
“Em? What the fuck does Harrison have to do with this?” Because if he’s figured it out, if he knows there’s two of us, not only could he report us for cheating and have me thrown out of college too, I … I might lose him. The fact I don’t know which option is worse is a real fucking problem.
“I’m lonely, Ben. Okay? I’m sorry. This year’s been kind of fucked-up, and that first day of class, I almost missed it, and there weren’t many seats, so I sat near him. He started asking questions about the class, so I answered them, and then … He was really nice. He sat next to me every time, I didn’t go to him, but he’s a talker, and it’s so hard not to talk back, and … I liked him. It was nice to have a friend again. Someone I could talk to who wasn’t you.”
“Please tell me you’re not falling for him?”
“What?” He scrubs at his eyes. “Of course not. I don’t even know him very well. But when he’s around, I … I don’t feel so lonely.”
Holy shit.
Everything makes so much sense now. The way Harrison approached me that first day of class. How he knew I’d planned something with hockey, even though I’m sure I’ve never mentioned it. Him calling me Benny. No one calls me that except Em, and if that’s how he introduced himself …
I drop back to sit on the side of my bed, head fucking spinning. My phone is still lighting up with messages that I can’t answer, and my brain is flooding with indecision. I’m pissed at Em for breaking our promise, but as much as yelling would make me feel better, I just … can’t. Because I had the same thought, didn’t I? The same moment of getting to have a person who wasn’t my twin. And I at least have my frat brothers, but who does he have?
I let out a frustrated shout, just something to get all this burning energy out of me.
It would be so much easier if I didn’t love my brother. If we could fight and I could tell him to fuck off and that’d be it, but I know that it doesn’t matter what happens here—if Harrison ditches me and I’m thrown out of school, we have each other. Forever.
Fighting with him ends quickly because we both end up feeling so damn sick over it.
“I’m so mad,” I choke out.
He looks terrible.
“Fuck, Em.” My voice breaks. “I actually really fucking like this guy.”
“I know. I swear, I had no clue it was him. None. Like I said, we don’t talk about much that isn’t schoolwork.”
“Then how did you figure it out? Does he know? We need to stop and go back. Tell me exactly what happened.”
Em’s teeth sink into his lip, and he opens his hand, showing off the scar he got when we were kids. “He saw it and said it wasn’t there the other night. Hinted about something happening between us, and that’s when it clicked.”
If he saw the scar, we’re fucked. There’s no way to cover up that we’re separate people. I’ve already attempted my own matching scar, and all it got me was a scolding from West, a sore hand, and a cut that healed over too fast.
The thing is … I don’t want to lie to him. I don’t want Harrison talking to Em and thinking he’s me. I don’t want to try and hide it all from him or deceive him or whatever. It’s bad enough that it’s happened already, even if it wasn’t on purpose.
Which means, apparently, I have two choices.
