Chapter 4 · My Split Personality Boyfriend

Seeing Elliot all flustered, I couldn't help but feel a little soft-hearted.

The dummy still thought I liked his brother.

I pulled my hand back, grabbed my phone from my bag, and opened up my chat with Brandon. I scrolled back to last night's messages.

I had typed: [What are you doing?]

He replied: [Baby, you finally texted me back! I'm sorry for being so cold today. Please don't be mad at me, okay?] He even sent a cute sticker.

I turned the phone screen toward him. "Elliot, look closely. If I was really pissed, if I wanted to break up, would I be texting someone who's been so cold to me like this?"

He stared at the chat, looking totally lost, like he couldn't even process what he was seeing.

I took a deep breath, ready to give him a dose of reality.

I said, "Let me ask you again. Who wrote those love letters back then?"

"I... I wrote it," he mumbled.

"Who was the one who walked with me in the rain, told me lame jokes, and dragged me to eat at every hole-in-the-wall place in the city?"

"Me."

"And who was the one who skipped class to take care of me when I was sick, tried to make me oatmeal and almost burned down the kitchen because he was so clumsy?"

"Also me."

"Elliot," I said, looking him straight in the eye. "The person I've liked all along has always been the one who would do all these silly things for me."

His eyes went wide, disbelief written all over his face. His lips trembled, but he couldn't get a single word out.

I didn't give him a chance to react. I simply turned and walked away.

I hoped he'd figure out the rest himself.

The dummy was still a bit naive to figure out what I intended.

I thought after that wake-up call at the café, Elliot's clueless brain would finally catch on.

But it seemed I still gave him way too much credit.

For three days straight, he didn't show up. There were some texts on WhatsApp, but all of them were from Brandon, and he was as frosty as ever.

Brandon: [You there?]

Brandon: [Elliot... is busy lately. I'm substituting him for the next few days.]

Brandon: [If you need anything, just text.]

I stared at those messages, so pissed I could explode.

Elliot was such a dummy. I wanted him to figure it out himself, not shove his brother out and keep pretending.

I couldn't take it anymore. I stormed straight over to their school.

Following the dorm number Elliot had mentioned, I found my way over. Standing outside the boys' dorm, I sent Brandon a message on Whatsapp.

Me: [I'm outside your dorm.]

Not even two minutes later, a figure dashed out of the building. It was that same familiar white shirt, but today, the guy wearing it had a face as cold as ice.

It was Brandon.

He looked surprised to see me, his brows furrowing. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see my boyfriend. Is that a problem?" I snapped, irritation clear in my voice.

Brandon was caught off guard. He pressed his lips together, not saying a word.

"Where's Elliot? Get him out here," I demanded, cutting straight to the chase.

"He's not here," Brandon said, still as cool as ever. "He's sick, passed out in bed."

"Sick?" My stomach dropped. "With what? Is it bad?"

"Just a fever," Brandon cut me off, icy as ever. "You should go home. Don't want you getting sick too."

With that, he turned and started heading upstairs.

"Stop right there!" I snapped, marching up to block his way. "Brandon, what's your problem?

"I'm here to see my boyfriend, and you're trying to send me away? Moreover, do you think it's hilarious making a fool out of me?"

Brandon froze. He turned around, and those puppy eyes I remembered now looked so complicated, I couldn't figure him out at all.

"It's not what you think," he finally said, his voice a bit rough. "This is Elliot's mess. He'll explain everything to you."

"Explain? I don't want an explanation. I want him here, right this second, standing in front of me," I snapped, frustration boiling over.

Just as we were stuck in our standoff downstairs, a dorm lady wandered over, eyeing us curiously. "Hey, lad, is this your girlfriend? Why don't you invite her up for a visit?"

Brandon looked uncomfortable. "Sorry, it's inconvenient."

"What's so inconvenient about it?" I shot back. "Ma'am, my boyfriend, Elliot Winter is in room 502. He's sick. I want to check on him real quick. I'll be right back down."

As I said this, I held up the insulated food jar in my hand. It was filled with oatmeal I bought.

The dorm lady caught on right away, waving me off. "Go ahead. You young folks act like dating is some kind of big secret, always sneaking around. Get upstairs. Don't let yourself catch a chill."

Chapter 4

Seeing Elliot all flustered, I couldn't help but feel a little soft-hearted.

The dummy still thought I liked his brother.

I pulled my hand back, grabbed my phone from my bag, and opened up my chat with Brandon. I scrolled back to last night's messages.

I had typed: [What are you doing?]

He replied: [Baby, you finally texted me back! I'm sorry for being so cold today. Please don't be mad at me, okay?] He even sent a cute sticker.

I turned the phone screen toward him. "Elliot, look closely. If I was really pissed, if I wanted to break up, would I be texting someone who's been so cold to me like this?"

He stared at the chat, looking totally lost, like he couldn't even process what he was seeing.

I took a deep breath, ready to give him a dose of reality.

I said, "Let me ask you again. Who wrote those love letters back then?"

"I... I wrote it," he mumbled.

"Who was the one who walked with me in the rain, told me lame jokes, and dragged me to eat at every hole-in-the-wall place in the city?"

"Me."

"And who was the one who skipped class to take care of me when I was sick, tried to make me oatmeal and almost burned down the kitchen because he was so clumsy?"

"Also me."

"Elliot," I said, looking him straight in the eye. "The person I've liked all along has always been the one who would do all these silly things for me."

His eyes went wide, disbelief written all over his face. His lips trembled, but he couldn't get a single word out.

I didn't give him a chance to react. I simply turned and walked away.

I hoped he'd figure out the rest himself.

The dummy was still a bit naive to figure out what I intended.

I thought after that wake-up call at the café, Elliot's clueless brain would finally catch on.

But it seemed I still gave him way too much credit.

For three days straight, he didn't show up. There were some texts on WhatsApp, but all of them were from Brandon, and he was as frosty as ever.

Brandon: [You there?]

Brandon: [Elliot... is busy lately. I'm substituting him for the next few days.]

Brandon: [If you need anything, just text.]

I stared at those messages, so pissed I could explode.

Elliot was such a dummy. I wanted him to figure it out himself, not shove his brother out and keep pretending.

I couldn't take it anymore. I stormed straight over to their school.

Following the dorm number Elliot had mentioned, I found my way over. Standing outside the boys' dorm, I sent Brandon a message on Whatsapp.

Me: [I'm outside your dorm.]

Not even two minutes later, a figure dashed out of the building. It was that same familiar white shirt, but today, the guy wearing it had a face as cold as ice.

It was Brandon.

He looked surprised to see me, his brows furrowing. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see my boyfriend. Is that a problem?" I snapped, irritation clear in my voice.

Brandon was caught off guard. He pressed his lips together, not saying a word.

"Where's Elliot? Get him out here," I demanded, cutting straight to the chase.

"He's not here," Brandon said, still as cool as ever. "He's sick, passed out in bed."

"Sick?" My stomach dropped. "With what? Is it bad?"

"Just a fever," Brandon cut me off, icy as ever. "You should go home. Don't want you getting sick too."

With that, he turned and started heading upstairs.

"Stop right there!" I snapped, marching up to block his way. "Brandon, what's your problem?

"I'm here to see my boyfriend, and you're trying to send me away? Moreover, do you think it's hilarious making a fool out of me?"

Brandon froze. He turned around, and those puppy eyes I remembered now looked so complicated, I couldn't figure him out at all.

"It's not what you think," he finally said, his voice a bit rough. "This is Elliot's mess. He'll explain everything to you."

"Explain? I don't want an explanation. I want him here, right this second, standing in front of me," I snapped, frustration boiling over.

Just as we were stuck in our standoff downstairs, a dorm lady wandered over, eyeing us curiously. "Hey, lad, is this your girlfriend? Why don't you invite her up for a visit?"

Brandon looked uncomfortable. "Sorry, it's inconvenient."

"What's so inconvenient about it?" I shot back. "Ma'am, my boyfriend, Elliot Winter is in room 502. He's sick. I want to check on him real quick. I'll be right back down."

As I said this, I held up the insulated food jar in my hand. It was filled with oatmeal I bought.

The dorm lady caught on right away, waving me off. "Go ahead. You young folks act like dating is some kind of big secret, always sneaking around. Get upstairs. Don't let yourself catch a chill."