The Twin Girl They Rejected

The football had barely left Jake's foot when the whole stadium erupted. I sat among hundreds of students, but my eyes were fixed on only one person.

Jake 

He was the captain of the university football team, the kind of person everyone noticed the moment he walked into a room. Girls talked about him constantly. Even girls dating my brother, Shane, were secretly interested in Jake.

I wasn't there because I loved football. I was there because watching Jake play was the only time I could look at him without feeling as though I was doing something wrong.

He had no idea I was watching. He probably had no idea I even existed. And somehow, that didn't stop me from caring about him.

Maybe it was because, unlike almost everyone else in my life, Jake had never given me a reason to hate him.

My name is Sarah. And before you decide that your own life is difficult, let me tell you about mine.

I have a twin brother named Shane. He was born a few minutes before me, but those few minutes seemed to mean everything in our family.

Shane is tall, handsome and athletic. He is the goalkeeper for the university football team and one of the most well-known students on campus.

People love him. Girls follow him around. He can walk into a room and make friends within minutes. I can't. We couldn't be more different.

While Shane is confident and popular, I am the girl people barely notice unless they need someone to laugh at.

I am not beautiful. At least, nobody has ever made me feel beautiful.

I am terrible at sports. I am awkward around people. I don't know how to make friends, and I have never been the sort of person others want around them. Not even my own family wants me around.

Shane doesn't like people knowing that I am his sister. Most students at Queens University don't even know we are related. I can't completely blame him.

Look at the two of us and you would probably wonder how we came from the same family too.

Queens University is the most prestigious university in the country, and somehow, I managed to earn a full scholarship there.

That is probably the only thing in my life I am truly proud of. Studying has always been easy for me.

I can remember things quickly, so I don't need to spend endless hours preparing for exams. My grades have always been high, and throughout school, I won awards and received recognition for my academic work. But none of that mattered at home.

My parents never came to my prizegiving ceremonies. They never looked proud when I brought home another award. They never seemed interested when my report card was filled with A's. But if Shane managed to get a C in one subject, suddenly that was something worth talking about.

My parents always had enough money for Shane. They paid for his education because they believed his football career was important. As for me, they stopped supporting my education years ago.

They told me they had to concentrate on Shane.If I wanted to study, I had to find a way to pay for it myself. So I did. I started taking part-time jobs when I was thirteen.

While other children my age were playing with friends after school, I was working. And when I came home, there was still more waiting for me:

Cooking.

Cleaning.

Washing clothes.

Doing the dishes.

Everything.

Nobody in my family thought they should help. My parents said I should be grateful they allowed me to live under their roof and gave me food. According to them, doing every household chore was how I showed my gratitude. I didn't even have a proper bedroom.

I slept in the storeroom. There was a small space in one corner where I kept the few things I owned. I didn't need much because I couldn't afford much.

The room had no proper heating or cooling. During the summer, I would lie there sweating.

During the winter, I would spend the night shivering beneath whatever blankets I could find.

I can't remember the last time my parents bought me clothes. Most of what I wear comes from second-hand shops.

A few old T-shirts. Loose sweaters. Jeans. One pair of shoes. That is almost everything I own.

If I ever need something nicer for an interview or a special occasion, I sometimes borrow a pair of shoes from my mother.

I always pay for that favour later. Usually with bruises. I don't wear make-up either. Not because I dislike it.

I simply don't have money for it. So when people see me at university, this is what they see.

Messy hair. An unkempt face. Oversized clothes. Old shoes.

A scholarship student who looks as though she doesn't belong at Queens University. To them, I am the awkward nerd who somehow got lucky enough to study among them.

My family treats me no better. They beat me whenever they decide I deserve punishment. And the worst part is that I don't even need to do anything wrong.

If my parents have a bad day, I become the person they take their anger out on. If Shane is angry, I am blamed.

If they are in a good mood, sometimes they punish me simply because it makes them feel even better. Shane became worse when we grew older. He didn't limit himself to treating me badly at home.

At school, he became my biggest bully. Everyone loved Shane, and everyone knew he hated me. So bullying me became an easy way for people to get closer to him.

University didn't change anything. If anything, it became worse. Shane continued humiliating me whenever he wanted, and other students joined in. Some wanted Shane to like them. Others hated the idea of a poor scholarship student receiving praise from lecturers while they had money, connections and better clothes. I became an easy target.

Every day, I woke around four in the morning to finish assignments, study or complete whatever work I had left. By the time I finally went to sleep, my body was exhausted. But physical exhaustion was never what hurt the most. It was the words.

The insults.

The humiliation.

Being treated as though I was nothing more than a servant in my own home. That was what broke something inside me little by little. Sometimes people ask why I don't simply leave. Why don't I get a job, rent a room and build a new life?

The answer is simple. I'm scared. As awful as my life is, these are still the people I have known since I was born. Leaving everything behind feels more frightening than remaining where I am. So I endure it. Every day. And I keep going because I have two reasons.

The first is my education. I want to become a computer engineer. I want a good job. I want enough money to leave that house and never have to depend on anyone again. Studying is my way out.

Then there is the second reason. Jake. The most handsome man I have ever seen. He is the captain of the football team and one of the best students in our batch.

Lecturers admire him. Students respect him. Girls want him. But unlike Shane, Jake doesn't seem interested in collecting admirers. He keeps to himself and doesn't have many close friends.

He could have almost anyone he wanted, yet he doesn't seem interested in chasing after them. That is one of the reasons I find myself thinking about him so much.

It isn't simply because he is handsome. Jake and I are in the same batch. We study the same subjects.

We have sat in the same lecture halls. We have walked past each other countless times. Yet we have never actually spoken.

I doubt he even knows my name. Still, whenever I look at him, I feel there is something about him I understand. Everyone sees the cold, distant side of Jake.

I see something else. I see someone who seems lonely. Someone who keeps people away. Someone who might be hiding a softer side beneath everything he shows the world.

I don't know why I feel that way. Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm wrong. But I can't shake the feeling that, somehow, Jake and I are more alike than people would ever believe.

He is simply living a life that looks completely different from mine. And there is another reason I can't help being drawn to him.

He never bullies me. That might sound ridiculous. But when you spend your whole life being mocked, insulted and hurt, someone treating you with ordinary kindness can feel extraordinary.

Jake has never laughed at me. He has never joined Shane. He has never looked at me with disgust.

So I started noticing him. Then I started looking for him. Soon, watching him became part of my routine.

I attended almost every football match. Not because I cared about football.

I went because I could sit in the crowd and watch Jake without anyone knowing what I was doing. I could look at him for ninety minutes and pretend, just for a while, that I belonged somewhere.

That was my little secret and nobody knew. My life continued in the same miserable routine.

Wake up. Study. Work. Attend lectures. Do household chores. Endure Shane. Go back to the storeroom.

Cry when nobody could hear me and then do it all again the next day. Nothing ever changed.

Until one day.

One ordinary day that should have meant nothing. Something happened.

At first, I thought it was nothing more than a simple act of kindness. I didn't realise then that those few seconds would become the one thing I held on to when everything else in my life felt impossible. And I certainly didn't know that, one day, it would become my life.