After Failing to Pretend to be His Brother

The echoes of my parents' tumultuous divorce still rang in my ears as I turned five.

They were embroiled in a bitter custody battle over my brother, Jaden, leaving me to fend for myself, scavenging leftovers from neighbors' tables until I reached six.

My father, cunning and resourceful, caught my mother on the bed with her lover, securing my brother's custody.

My mother, finally recalling her other child, was repulsed by the fact that I wasn't a boy.

She sheared my hair into a harsh buzz cut and dressed me in my brother's cast-off clothes, even managing to turn my trousers into ill-fitting three-quarter lengths.

Thus, I became her "son", a source of ridicule at school, where they branded me a tomboy.

My father vanished for years, only to resurface as a renowned tycoon in our town.

His disdain for my mother was so palpable that his child support for me was a miserly sum, a mere pittance that my mother squandered on her various lovers.

Starved and neglected, I reached eighteen, meeting my father once again.

He was now adorned in a bespoke suit and a diamond watch that glittered like ice. His first words to me were sharp as a blade, "You are eighteen this year. I will not give you a penny in child support. You and your mother are a disgrace to my life."

Bewildered, I wondered how I had become a disgrace through no fault of my own. I bit my nails, a nervous habit, and nodded in mute agreement.

Jaden, now the favored son, sped past me in a flashy new car, a gift from our father for his college admission.

With my meager living expenses cut off, I found myself hauling bricks at a construction site, the only place immune to my mother's volatile temper that could disrupt my any other job within three to five days.

My mother, jobless and volatile, saw me as her emotional punching bag, lashing out when her lovers left her or when meals were scarce.

The construction site contractor, Jacob Scott, a fiery middle-aged man, was impervious to my mother's theatrics.

Eager to save money and perhaps change my fate through education, I worked tirelessly.

One day, unable to leave the site, Jacob tasked me with delivering a package to his son at college.

To save two dollars on bus fare, I trekked twenty stops to the university, a place I had seen only in Jaden's social media posts.

Jacob's son was intrigued by my curiosity about the campus, so he invited me in and offered to treat me to dinner.

Desperate to see inside, I nervously touched my cropped hair and whispered, "Is it really possible?"

His enthusiasm was infectious. "Of course! You delivered my package; it's the least I can do."

Hesitantly, I followed him.

He initially led me to the library, where I was greeted by an awe-inspiring sight - row upon row of books meticulously organized. It was my inaugural encounter with such a vast collection, and the impact was profound, leaving me utterly astonished.

Following this intellectual immersion, we ventured to the sports field, an expansive and open space that seemed to stretch endlessly.

As I turned, I spotted Jaden on the basketball court. Hastily, I pulled my hood over my head, turning away.

Jaden and I have scarcely crossed paths, making it unlikely that he would identify me on sight.

Nonetheless, I meticulously perused each update he shared on Instagram, not out of longing for his presence but rather to observe the enviable quality of his existence.

I overheard him grumble to his companions, "This semester's elective classes are a real headache. They're all crammed into Fridays, and I've even got one elective to attend on Fridays."

His friend chimed in with a solution, "If it really becomes unbearable, just skip them. Once you do, you can dive straight into that three-day weekend. It'll feel fantastic."

Jaden, seemingly in agreement, responded, "Exactly, that's the plan!"

With my head bowed, I followed Jacob's son to the cafeteria.