Tasting My Ex's Twin Brother

Chapter 4: The Campus Outcast

Elena's POV

Walking across the central quad the next morning felt like stepping into a gladiator arena without any armor.

I kept my eyes pinned to the concrete, my hands shoved deep into the pockets of my oversized gray hoodie, but I couldn't block out the noise. The campus, usually a background blur of chatter and rolling skateboards, had transformed into a whispering gallery. Every hiss of laughter, every muted giggle, felt like a direct strike against my skin.

"Look, that’s her."

"The red dress girl."

"Can you imagine doing that to Ethan Carter? With his own twin?"

I pulled my hood down further, the fabric scratching against my cheeks. When I reached my lecture hall, it only got worse. The moment I slid into a seat near the back, the two girls sitting in the row ahead of me turned around, glanced at me, and immediately whispered to each other, giggling.

When I opened my notebook, a small piece of lined paper fluttered out. Someone had slipped it into the margins during the brief time I’d left my bag unattended in the library.

Written in ugly, blocky sharpie were the words: Twin Hopper.

A cold, suffocating weight settled right over my chest. I stared at the paper until the ink blurred, my hands shaking so violently I had to sit on them to make them stop. They didn't know the truth. They didn't know about the five years of history Ethan had thrown away, or the fact that I had been so blinded by tears and cheap alcohol that I’d mistaken one identical silhouette for another. To them, I was just a cheap punchline. A villain.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, I couldn't take the walls of the lecture hall anymore. I decided to grab a cold coffee from the student lounge before heading back to my dorm, desperate for a quiet corner.

I should have known better.

"Well, look who decided to show her face."

The arrogant, booming voice cut through the ambient hum of the lounge. My stomach dropped. I turned around slowly, my fingers tightening around my plastic cup.

Ethan was leaning against the hightop counter of the cafe area, surrounded by three of his hockey teammates. Marcus was there, a mocking grin plastered across his face. And right beside Ethan, her fingers laced through his, was Tiffany. She was wearing her blue cheerleading skirt, looking at me like I was something she’d accidentally stepped on.

Ethan looked different today. The defensive, panicked boy from last night was gone, replaced by a cold, smug arrogance. The viral video had given him the ultimate get out of jail free card. He didn't have to explain why he was cheating with Tiffany anymore; he was the victim now.

"Ethan, please," I whispered, looking around the lounge as several students paused to watch us. "I don't want to do this here."

"Oh, now you don't want a scene?" Ethan scoffed, letting go of Tiffany to take a step toward me. He shook his head, a bitter, disgusted laugh escaping his lips. "You know, Elena, when Marcus told me you were looking for me in the back hallway last night, I almost felt bad. But throwing yourself at my brother? Trying to get down with Evan just because I was too busy to answer your texts?"

"That's not what happened, and you know it!" The words burst from my throat, raw and furious. "I thought he was you, Ethan! He was wearing your jacket, the light was dim, I was...."

"Save it," Ethan snapped, cutting me off with a harsh wave of his hand. His amber eyes hardened, filled with a cruel indifference that made my throat lock up. "Honestly, I don't even care to hear the excuse. It’s trashy. You wanted to hurt me, so you went for the closest thing. I always knew you were desperate, but using my freak of a brother to get back at me is low, even for you."

Tiffany let out a soft, mocking hum, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I told you, Ethan. Some girls just don't know how to let go gracefully."

The hockey guys laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the lounge.

I looked at Ethan, really looked at him. I saw the way he preened under the attention of the crowd, the way he didn't care about the truth as long as his reputation remained spotless. A sudden, chilling realization washed over me. He didn't actually believe I cheated. He just didn't care. It was convenient for his image to let the campus destroy me.

The sorrow that had been weighing me down for the last twenty four hours didn't just fade, it hardened. At this point, I didn't really care anymore.

"You're right," I said, my voice completely dead, devoid of the tears he was probably expecting. "Explaining anything to you is a waste of my breath."

I turned on my heel and walked out of the lounge, leaving the sound of their laughter behind. I didn't cry this time. The anger burning in my chest was too hot for tears to flow.

As I crossed the athletic quad toward the outer fields, a tall, familiar figure caught my eye.

Evan was walking down the gravel path toward the lower fields, a large black gear bag slung over his broad shoulder. He was wearing shorts and a practice vest, his dark, unruly hair blowing slightly in the wind. He was moving fast, completely detached from the campus around him, hw was like a solitary island in the middle of the university noise.

Without thinking, I started running to catch up. "Evan! Wait!"

He didn't hear me over the wind, or maybe he just didn't think anyone was calling his name. He kept walking until he reached the isolated grass field at the very edge of campus, the lacrosse turf. Unlike the massive, state of the art ice arena, this field was surrounded by rusted metal bleachers and faded white lines.

Instead of shouting for him again, I stopped at the bottom of the bleachers. I climbed up a few rows, sitting down on the cold aluminum, and just watched.

A handful of guys were out on the turf, throwing a hard rubber ball back and forth with their netted sticks. The game was fast, violent, and loud. And Evan was at the absolute center of it.

I didn't even know that he played any sport, talk less of lacrosse.

For the first time in the years I had known him as Ethan's quiet, background twin and roommate, I actually "saw" him. On the field, the reserved, gentle boy vanished. He was terrifyingly intense. He moved with a raw, dominant power, his cleats digging into the sod as he checked another player, the solid crack of their sticks echoing across the empty bleachers. He caught the ball mid air, spun past a defender with an aggressive, predatory grace, and whipped the ball into the net with a force that made the mesh scream.

He wasn't a shadow. He was a literal force of nature.

A whistle blew, signaling the end of the scrimmage. The players began dispersing toward the bench, pulling off their helmets and pouring water over their faces.

Evan wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, his eyes scanning the empty bleachers until they locked onto me. He froze. Even from fifty feet away, I could feel the sudden, intense gravity of his gray eyes.

He dropped his helmet onto the grass and walked toward the bleachers, his chest heaving under his sweaty practice jersey. He stopped at the railing, looking up at me, his expression a turbulent mix of wariness, guilt, and something deeply hidden.

"Elena," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be seen with me. The videos...."

"The videos are already everywhere," I said, stepping down the aluminum rows until I was standing right at the railing, looking down into his stormy eyes. The scent of sweat, grass, and rain rolled off him, intoxicatingly sharp. "Ethan cornered me in the lounge. He called me trashy. He called you a freak. He’s using the rumor to make himself the golden boy who got betrayed."

Evan’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched beneath his skin. His gray eyes darkened, a dangerous flash of fire sparking within them. "I'll handle Ethan."

"No," I said, leaning over the railing, my voice dropping to a fierce, quiet whisper. "We handle him together."

Evan blinked, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"The entire university already thinks I’m the bad guy, Evan. They already think I threw away five years to sleep with my boyfriend’s identical twin brother," I said, taking a final step closer until there was barely any space between us. I looked straight into his eyes, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I delivered the final blow. "So let's give them exactly what they want. Fake date me, Evan. Let's make Ethan's worst nightmare real, and let's burn his perfect little world to the ground."