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Jessa
Seven Years Earlier
Growing up as a twin sounds fun, right? Built-in best friend, someone who always has your back, someone who gets you without explanation. That’s what I had—at least for the first ten years of my life.
My twin brother, Jackson, was the center of my world. We were fraternal twins, but opposites in every way. Jackson was tall, lean, athletic, and could make friends with just about anyone. I was short, a little chunky, shy to the point of painful, and usually tripping over my own feet.
But it never mattered to me. I didn’t need a million friends. I had Jackson. He was my best friend, my other half, my person.
It was always just the two of us. Our mom worked constantly to keep food on the table, so most of the time it was just me and him. Maybe that’s why we clung to each other so hard.
“Jax, I wanna go home,” I whined, dragging my feet as he tossed a football from hand to hand.
“Jess, chill. I told the new kid I’d meet him here to throw the ball around,” he said, his brown eyes locked on the field like he was already in the NFL.
“This is boring.” I plopped down on the grass.
He sighed, dug in his pocket, and tossed me a granola bar. “Here. Peanut butter. Your favorite.”
Instant mood boost. “Yes! Thanks, Jax.”
While I was tearing open the wrapper, he straightened up, glancing at the entrance to the field. “That’s him.”
A boy about our age walked toward us, a football tucked under his arm. He had dark, messy brown hair and the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. The kind of eyes you notice right away. And his lashes? Long enough to make me jealous.
“Hey,” he said to Jackson.
“Hey, Noah. This is my twin, Jessa.”
I scrambled up, brushing grass off my jeans. My mouth moved faster than my brain. “Wow… you’ve got really long eyelashes. For a boy.”
Noah’s cheeks turned pink. “Uh, thanks?”
Jackson groaned. “Sorry, she doesn’t have a filter sometimes.”
“I just meant they’re… pretty,” I tried, wishing I could disappear.
“Jess, why don’t you go sit while we toss the ball around,” Jackson muttered.
“She doesn’t play?” Noah asked.
I shook my head before Jackson could answer. “Not really my thing.”
“Nope. If she tried to throw, she’d probably knock herself over,” Jackson joked.
I pretended not to care, sitting back down on the sidelines, but my eyes kept drifting toward Noah as he and Jackson tossed the ball. He wasn’t just cute—he was quiet, too. Almost shy. Something about him made me want him to like me.
After they finished, Jackson clapped him on the back. “You’ve got a good arm.”
“Two older brothers taught me some stuff,” Noah shrugged.
“Oh! So they’re your best friends too, like me and Jackson?” I asked eagerly.
“No. They’re just… brothers. I don’t really have a best friend.”
My heart squeezed. “Then you should get one. Me and Jackson do everything together. He’s the best best friend you could ever have.”
Noah looked at Jackson. Jackson just shrugged. Noah nodded slightly, like he got the message.
At the time, I didn’t realize how wrong I was.
One Month Later
“I don’t wanna go to the movies, Jax!” I whined, arms crossed.
“Too bad. Noah and I wanna see the new Marvel movie. You can’t stay home alone.”
“We always do what you and Noah want. What about me?”
He sighed. “Jess, I love you. But sometimes I wanna do stuff without you. You need to find your own friends.”
That stung more than I wanted to admit.
The doorbell rang, and Noah walked in with his usual smirk.
“Sup.”
“Jess, get your shoes on,” Jackson ordered.
“She’s coming too?” Noah asked.
“Yeah. Mom’s at work. I’m babysitting.”
“Babysitting?” I snapped. “We’re the same age! You’re not babysitting me.”
“I’m twelve minutes older,” Jackson shot back.
Noah snickered. “She’s definitely acting like the baby.”
I stormed off to grab my shoes, but I froze halfway up the stairs when I heard Noah’s voice:
“Man, your sister’s such a brat. Wish she didn’t have to tag along.”
Jackson’s answer was the knife that cut deepest. “Tell me about it.”
At the theater, I tried to forget. “Jax, can we get popcorn? With extra butter?”
Noah raised his brows. “Do you really need the extra butter?”
I clenched my fists. “Yes. I like it that way.”
Jackson slipped me a couple of bills. “Get your own small one.”
I headed for the snack line, and that’s when I heard them again.
“She always has to be eating,” Noah muttered.
“Yeah,” Jackson said with a low laugh. “Sometimes it’s embarrassing to be seen with her.”
The words hit harder than any punch. My own twin—my best friend—was embarrassed of me.
“Hey, it’s your turn,” a girl behind me said gently.
I shook my head. “Changed my mind.”
She frowned. “You okay?”
“No,” I whispered. “I think I lost my best friend.”
She studied me, then said, “I’m Mariah. We’re in the same class, right? You’re Jessa. Jackson’s twin.”
“Yeah.”
“What movie are you supposed to be seeing?”
“Some superhero thing.”
Mariah smirked. “Ditch it. Come with me instead. There’s a new comedy. Way cuter lead actor.”
Before I could decide, Jackson and Noah appeared.
“Jess, what’s taking so long?” Jackson demanded. “Oh, hey, Mariah.”
Mariah smiled sweetly. “Hi. Jessa and I are seeing the comedy instead.”
Jackson shrugged. “Fine. Meet us in the lobby after.”
As he and Noah disappeared, Mariah tugged me toward her theater.
“Come on. You need a laugh.”
I glanced back one last time at my brother’s retreating figure.
He stole my best friend, I thought. And he’s never giving him back.
Three Years Later
Thirteen hit me hard. My body changed in ways I didn’t ask for. I wasn’t the chubby little girl anymore—I had curves. Breasts too big for my age. Hips that didn’t match the other girls at school.
Mom always said, Girls built like us need to cover up. Layers make you look thinner.
So I wore baggy shirts. Oversized hoodies. Clothes that swallowed me whole. It didn’t matter. The teasing still came.
“Jess, you’re wearing that?” Jackson asked one morning, eyeing my loose shirt.
“It’s comfortable.”
“It’s a tent.” He rolled his eyes and left.
Mom kissed my cheek. “Ignore him. He doesn’t understand what it’s like for girls like us.”
At school, the comments started before I even reached the doors.
“The circus is in town!”
“Yeah, they brought the whale exhibit!”
My stomach dropped when I saw where it came from—Jackson and Noah, flanked by their football buddies, all laughing.
“Nice shirt, Jess,” Noah snorted. “They only had tent size left?”
“Shut up, Noah.”
Jackson smirked. “Told you it was too big.”
“Perfect for hiding that fat ass,” Noah added, sending the group into hysterics.
I turned away, pretending I couldn’t hear. But their laughter followed me.
By the time I reached my locker, my hands were shaking. I tugged the handle, but it was jammed. Mariah appeared at my side.
“Need help?”
We pulled together until it finally burst open—and trash bags tumbled out, spilling all over the hallway.
A note taped to one read: Got you a new wardrobe.
The roar of laughter around us was deafening.
“Did you do this?” Mariah snapped at Jackson and Noah, who had pushed through the crowd to watch.
Noah grinned. “She wants to dress like a hobo? Why not just give her options?”
Jackson chuckled. “Relax. It’s just a joke.”
Mariah glared at him. “She’s your sister.”
But Jackson only walked away with Noah.
I stared at the trash bag in my hands. For just one second, I wished I could trade places. To be the one laughing, not the one humiliated.
Present Day
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I groaned, slamming my alarm clock. Senior year. My last year in this hellhole.
I’m Jessa. Nobody special. Just the overweight twin sister of Jackson, starting quarterback and golden boy of our high school. The sister his best friend, Noah Carter, has made it his life’s mission to torment.
Once, when I was ten, I thought Noah was cute. That crush didn’t survive the year. Now at eighteen, he’s tall, broad-shouldered, perfect hair, perfect smile. Every girl wants him.
And I can’t stand him.
But he’s always around—because he’s Jackson’s best friend. The boy who stole my brother from me.
I roll out of bed and tug on my armor: jeans, tank top, oversized button-up. The layers hide the body I’ve been told to be ashamed of.
Time to sneak out before Jackson sees me. Before Noah’s voice finds me.
Another day. Another battle.
Jessa I woke up smiling.Actually smiling — like, full-face, cheeks-hurt kind of smiling.For a second I didn’t even know why. I just lay there in my bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling… light. And warm. And ridiculously giddy in a way that probably should’ve embarrassed me, but didn’t.Then it hit me.I have a boyfriend.A real one.No trick.No joke.No waiting for the punchline.Noah Carter is my boyfriend.I buried my face in my pillow and squealed — quietly, because Jackson would be obnoxious if he heard me — but still. I squealed. Me. The girl who has literally never squealed in her life unless it involved a spider.Everything felt different. My room. My clothes. The sun. Even the air.It was stupid. It was magical. It was mine.I rolled out of bed and headed to my closet, bracing for the usual morning anxiety:What do I wear?Will it look tight?Will people stare?Will I look bigger today?Will it cling weird?Will I be “the fat girl trying too hard”?But the dread… wasn’t th
NoahBy the time the final bell rang, all I wanted was silence.Not because the day was hard academically — I couldn’t even remember what half my teachers said — but because the whispers were getting under my skin in a way that made me want to break lockers.Jessa and I walked out of the cafeteria together — not holding hands, but close enough that people noticed.Which, apparently, was a crisis.I heard:“Why her?”“He can do better.”“She’s not even that pretty.”“She doesn’t wear makeup.”“Dude, he’s desperate.”Every whispered word felt like it hit me directly, even though the comments were about her.And she heard them too.I could see it in the way her shoulders tensed… relaxed… then tensed again.She was trying so damn hard not to let it show.I hated that for her.I hated that for me.But mostly?I hated that people seemed to think they had some say in who I wanted.Spoiler:They didn’t.⸻Practice rolled around, and the locker room felt loud enough to crack concrete.Jackson
MariahThere are moments where I sit back and think,Damn… my best friend is actually handling this.And today?Jessa was doing exactly that.The whole makeup conversation, the whispers, the sideways comments — she handled it without shrinking into herself. For the first time all year, she wasn’t folding like a cheap lawn chair.I was so proud I could’ve cried.I was leaning forward mid–eye roll at Shane’s rant about contouring when something brushed lightly across the small of my back.Not a hand.Jackson’s hand.He was already sitting beside me — had been since the start of lunch — but now he shifted closer, thumb gliding once before he pulled away like he hadn’t meant to do it.My stomach flipped.I shot him a tiny smirk, one only he could see.He pretended nothing happened, staring hard at his tray like his mashed potatoes had personally offended him.Cute.Very cute.Before I could say anything snarky, Chris brought up Homecoming.“So we’re still on for the group thing, right? Sa
JessaBy Monday, it felt like the whole school had watched that kiss in slow motion.They probably had.I’d had an amazing weekend — which, honestly, still felt weird to think about. Saturday, Noah and I hung out on his back porch, sharing junk food and listening to music while his little sister made fun of us for “being disgusting and in love.” Sunday, we spent way too long on the phone, talking about nothing and everything until my battery died mid-sentence.For once, I didn’t dread Monday.That lasted… about fifteen minutes.Because apparently, Ridgeville High loved nothing more than a new storyline. And this week’s trending topic was:Noah Carter is dating Jessa Lombardi.I heard it the second I walked through the doors.“No way, did you see them on the field?”“Yeah, he kissed her. Like full-on movie scene.”“Maybe he lost a bet.”“Or maybe he has a type?”“What type? She’s not even—” whisper, whisper, giggle.By lunchtime, the whispers had gotten sharper.“Honestly, what does he
JessaThe stadium lights always made everything look unreal.Too bright. Too sharp. Too much.But tonight, standing in the packed Ridgeville stands with Mariah practically vibrating beside me, everything felt even louder. The kind of buzzing energy that makes your pulse flutter and your breath come short.It didn’t help that every time Noah stepped on the field, my stomach flipped over like it was trying to do gymnastics it had no business attempting.It also didn’t help that Mariah noticed.“Oh my god,” she hissed, elbowing me. “You’re glowing. You look like you swallowed Christmas lights.”“I do not!” I whisper-yelled.“You absolutely do.”I tried focusing on the scoreboard, the field, literally anything else… but my eyes kept going back to him.Noah Carter.Shoulders like armor. Determination in every step. Mud streaking his jersey. Focus carved into his face like the world depended on this game.And when the announcer had said his name at the start, he looked up toward the stands.
NoahThird quarter, their offense scored on a busted coverage. 21–14. Crowd groaned. Clear Springs’ section went nuts.On the sideline, my muscles thrummed with restless energy. Every time we got the ball, I dug in harder. Hit harder. Drove my guy off the line like he’d insulted my family.Somewhere in the third, on a timeout, I dared a quick glance at the stands.Jessa was still there. Standing now. Hands clenched around a foam finger, eyes glued to the field, lips moving like she was whispering prayers or curses or both. Mariah was yelling at the refs, obviously.I wanted to do something for her. For them. For all of this.Fourth quarter. Clock bleeding down.We were still down by seven.Coach pulled us in on the sideline after a defensive stop. 2:10 left. Our ball. Time for one real drive.He looked at Jackson first. “You good?”Jackson just nodded once, that locked-in QB face on.Then Coach turned to me. “Carter.”“Yeah, Coach?”“This series is on both of you. Keep him upright. Ma







