27. Jonah

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

jonah

Even though Silastells me not to do anything rash tonight, I can’t help pacing my apartment when I get home. My phone is in my hand, email open and addressed to the dean, but as I try to contemplate where to even start, I have no clue.

Identity swapping, cheating, me being the one too oblivious to see the guy I’m fucking is playing me for a fool.

Did he purposefully try to make me fall for him so I could be guilted into not reporting him and his brother?

On a scale of one to murder, cheating in college is nowhere near as bad. But cheating in my class and then dating me?

Memories of Emmett and Harrison sitting in my class—always together—fill my mind, and whether they have warped since finding out the truth or are even clearer, I don’t know, but I can picture with perfect clarity Emmett’s eyes on mine. His small, bashful smile. Back then, I would’ve assumed it was because he was sitting next to his boyfriend, who was hovering over him and probably murmuring sweet nothings in his ear, but thinking about it deeper, it was always Harrison who was close to Emmett. Not the other way around. Harrison would read Emmett’s work, but I don’t recall any touching or affection. I must’ve seen Harrison and Benny on campus and assumed the couple thing in class.

Unless there’s an even sicker layer to their swapfuckery and they like to share partners.

I shudder. The thought of sleeping with Benny, thinking he was Emmett …

A few days ago, I would’ve said it wasn’t possible. Now, I don’t know what the fuck is happening.

In every relationship, there’s a moment where you realize your partner isn’t as perfect as you thought they were. Sometimes it can take years to discover it. With Emmett, it was all over before it truly began.

Luckily too, because while my feelings for Emmett are strong, it’s not like we were in love. A few dates and sleeping together on the regular are easy to get over.

At least that’s what I’m trying to tell myself to stop me from sending an impulsive email that will ruin lives. Real lives. Hell, even my reputation and job could be put on the line because I didn’t know cheating was going on right under my nose.

That doesn’t stop the angry urge to email the dean and tell her exactly what they did, but I have to ask myself something. Do I want to email because it’s the right thing to do or because I’m so mad at them I want them to hurt like they’ve hurt me?

Silas was right. I need a clear head when I bring this forward. Doing this fueled by emotion will make everything worse. For the twins and me.

I close out the email draft, but as I do, an email from a student address comes through. It’s Benny’s address.

Dear Proffesor Brooks,

U might not rememebr me being in ur class as me, but I will always remeember. I sat there every day, Enamurd Enamired? Why isn’t spell check helping meeeee.

You captivated me

You were the best math proffessor I’d had at both Franklin and San Diego.

I never thought Id meet u outside of class or that I’d so quickly become obsessed with hanging out with u.

I new we couldn’t be together, but I couldn’t stay away. For that I’m 100% sorry.

I shouldn’t have dragged u into my mess. If I could take it all back, I would. Maybe. Ok, maybee I wouldnt. Know Y? Because you were the britest thing in my life for the last six months.

I was spirilling. U grounded me. NOw I’m back to spirilling and I hate myself 4 hurting U.

Twincerely yours

Em.

PS. I’m drunk. Everyone said not to send this, but I wanted to get it off my chest.

I can’t tell if the email has made me angrier or sadder. The misspellings are atrocious, and sure, it might be from being drunk, but it might also have to do with him suspecting he has dyslexia. If he can’t spell simple words, forgets punctuation and simple sentence structure, there’s no way he would be a “top student” at San Diego. Even though they already said as much, this is visual proof of what Benny and Emmett did.

From the outside, it would seem impossible. How did they do exams in school? How’d they get through the SATs?

And when I think about the effort they must have gone to just to get away with it all, I have to ask why they didn’t come forward sooner.

Ben’s words come back to me. They started doing it after their parents died.

I haven’t met West or any of their older siblings, and I understand it would’ve been a difficult time, but to keep it going?

The schools, me, everyone else affected were all collateral in their self-sabotage because they really are the two who have suffered most from their actions.

I want to hate them, I really do, but I’m not sure I can. If anything, I feel sorry for them.

I’m angry at what they did and can’t help thinking of myself as just another target for them to play their mind games on. But I also know, in the big scheme of things, this isn’t about me.

It’s about two little boys who had their parents die before they hit puberty, could see their older brothers struggling to keep everyone together, and instead of asking for help, they turned to each other.

I try to imagine Em and Ben at nine years old, going through a time of grief, feeling the pressure of doing badly in school—hell, not even understanding school. I can see how they fell into using each other as a crutch and how they became so codependent.

But I can’t see how they could bring themselves to continue to do it for so long. Where was their conscience? Where was the guilt? From where I’m standing, I can’t even say they were remorseful for it.

The way they spoke about it, it was as if Benny was telling me about facts on a fact sheet. And I don’t believe for a second that Emmett is truly sorry.

He was willing to choose keeping his secret over losing me. Well, he chose. And I seem to be the only one hurting.