Under a Borrowed Name

My family was the wealthiest in Brightwater, Bellweather. Yet my parents never stopped praising the scholarship student they sponsored. According to them, he was brilliant, disciplined, and a thousand times better than their own daughter. I refused to believe it. Using a fake name, I contacted him online, pretended to be a struggling student just like him, and flirted with him for months while searching for something I could use against him. Instead, I discovered that Elliot Pierce was almost painfully honest. Determined to expose the act I was sure he was putting on, I enrolled at Brightwater University through its competitive dance program. On move-in day, I pulled my sports car beside him and deliberately splashed muddy water across his shirt. I lowered my sunglasses and smiled at the mess. "I'm Sienna Wilde, the daughter of the people paying your scholarship. "And you're Elliot Pierce? You're not much to look at. I have no idea what my parents see in you." He calmly wiped the mud from his face, said nothing, and walked away. That night, my phone lit up with a message. Elliot: "Molly, I met the Wildes' daughter today. Compared with her, you're an angel." Chapter 1 I stared at the word "angel" on my screen and swallowed guiltily. "Really? Rich people are the worst. What did she do to you?" Elliot Pierce answered almost immediately. "She drove through a puddle on purpose and soaked me. It's fine. The shirt will wash." I pouted and typed furiously. "You're way too patient. I'd have taken the shirt off and thrown it in her face." "She's not worth arguing with. Money is all she has. Honestly, she's kind of pathetic." Pathetic? I stared at the word until I nearly crushed my phone. I was beautiful, wealthy, and had enough admirers to fill the entire Brightwater campus. How dare he call me pathetic? I fought the urge to throw my phone across the room. "You're right. We may be broke, but at least we have dignity." "By the way, Molly, you moved into college today too, right? How is it?" "Great! Brightwater University's library is enormous. It's way bigger than the one back in my little hometown." The moment I sent it, I froze. My fake backstory said I was a top student from an isolated mountain town who had only qualified for a modest college in the neighboring state. The chat stayed silent for a full minute. My heart climbed into my throat. Then Elliot sent a voice message. He sounded puzzled. "You got into Brightwater? I thought you said your scores would only get you into the school across the state line." Panic hit. My mind raced for an explanation. "I'm sorry. I hid my real scores because I wanted to surprise you. I applied to Brightwater without telling anyone, and I moved in today." "Why would you hide that from me?" "Because... I was afraid I wouldn't get in and you'd be disappointed." The lie nearly stuck in my throat. Elliot went quiet again. "Since we're at the same school, let's meet tomorrow night. Dinner is on me. We can celebrate." Meet him? I shot upright in bed. Absolutely not. The second he saw the real me, my entire disguise would collapse. "You don't have to! I'm looking for a part-time job tomorrow night, so I'll be busy." "There are plenty of scams around campus. Have dinner with me first. This weekend, I'll help you find a safe job." His tone left no room to refuse. I stared at the screen in despair. I had set the trap and stepped straight into it. The next evening, I stood before a closet packed with designer clothes and had no idea what to wear. My roommate, Tessa Monroe, watched me tear through hangers and asked nervously, "Sienna, what are you looking for?" My gaze landed on her faded T-shirt. "Tessa, lend me some clothes." Once I changed, I studied myself in the mirror. Faded T-shirt, baggy sweatpants, canvas sneakers. Something was still missing. I was still far too pretty. Grimacing, I ordered a cheap black wig with blunt bangs through same-day delivery, along with the heaviest black-framed glasses I could find. No makeup. No lipstick. I even darkened my complexion with bronzer. Perfect. Looking like an entirely different person, I slipped out of the dorm as if I were committing a crime. Elliot had told me to meet him at the main gate. I spotted him from far away. He looked as cool and distant as ever, standing out without even trying. I took a deep breath, shuffled over, and tugged lightly on his sleeve. "E-Elliot..." He turned. The instant he saw my face, his brows drew together. "You're... Molly Reed?" I nodded so hard my neck hurt, my palms slick with sweat. He stared at me for ten long seconds until my skin began to crawl. Chapter 2 "Your hair..." "It's naturally difficult. Really dry." I hurriedly pressed a hand over the edge of my wig. He didn't question me further. "Come on. I'll get you something to eat." Elliot led me into a narrow lane behind campus filled with steam and food carts. Grease and smoke hung in the air, making me cough. "Two spicy chowders," he told the vendor. "No cilantro in one." He guided me to a stained folding table. I stared at the dark smears on its surface and refused to put my hands down. "Too dirty?" He took out a packet of tissues and wiped the table twice. "No. Not at all." I shook my head quickly. Soon, the vendor carried over two enormous bowls. The broth was bright red, crowded with vegetables and processed bites I couldn't identify. I poked a pale strip with my disposable fork. "What's this?" "Imitation crab." "What kind of crab? North-coast king crab?" I blurted. Elliot's fork stopped halfway to his mouth. He looked up and studied me sharply. My stomach dropped. "I-I saw it in a video online." He watched me for another moment, then returned to his food without comment. I lowered my head and ate in terrified silence. After dinner, Elliot walked me back toward campus. "Do you have enough money for living expenses? Tell me if you don't." I blinked. "Enough? Maybe... not enough?" I had no idea what a financially struggling student was supposed to spend each month. "I work weekends at a restaurant near campus. They're hiring. Want to try? It pays twenty-five dollars an hour." Twenty-five dollars? I sometimes spent more than that on bottled water. But Molly Reed was hardworking and poor, so Molly Reed had to say yes. "I'd love to. Thank you." I tried to look overwhelmed with gratitude. That night, curled up in bed, I sent him a question before I could stop myself. "What do you think of Sienna Wilde?" "Why are you asking about her?" "I'm curious. Don't guys like rich, beautiful girls like that?" His answer came quickly, cold even through the screen. "She's arrogant, rude, and completely self-centered. She'll probably need some arranged business marriage one day, because no normal man would choose her." My smile vanished. Rude? Arrogant? No man would want me? Elliot Pierce had a lot of nerve insulting me behind my back. I slammed my phone into my pillow. Fine. Tomorrow, I would show him what rude really looked like. The next morning, I marched into the student activities building in heels, ready for war. Elliot was a sophomore and served on the campus events committee. That morning, he was organizing the equipment room. I kicked the door open and pointed at a stack of dusty gym mats. "Elliot Pierce, move every one of those mats to the athletic field. I need them." He was counting volleyballs. He looked up with a slight frown. "Ms. Wilde, the gymnastics club needs those this afternoon. Why would you move them outside?" "Because I feel like it. They're depressing indoors. Maybe they need sunlight." I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. "They belong to the university, not to you." His voice hardened. "My father just funded a new library wing. I think that earns me the use of a few mats." "You won't move them? Fine. I'll call the dean and have you removed from this committee." Elliot stared at me, his jaw rigid. At last, without a word, he bent down, lifted two heavy mats, and carried them toward the field. Chapter 3 September in Brightwater was still brutally hot. I stood beneath a sun umbrella in the shade while Elliot carried the mats back and forth, sweat soaking his shirt and clinging to his back. Students passing by whispered about how badly I was bullying him. I already regretted it, but my pride wouldn't let me tell him to stop. By the time he moved the last mat, his face had gone pale. He walked over, his voice rough. "They're all outside, Ms. Wilde. Anything else?" His cracked lips made something twist inside my chest. "N-no. Get lost." I looked away guiltily. That night, I tossed in bed and couldn't sleep. Elliot's pale face kept replaying in my mind. I grabbed my phone and switched to Molly's account. "Are you awake?" Much later, he replied, "Yes." "Are you exhausted? You're answering more slowly than usual." "A little. I had a difficult day." I asked the question even though I knew the answer. "Did that rich girl bully you again?" "Yes. She made me carry every mat from the equipment room onto the field." I stared at the screen, unable to think of anything to type. "She's awful. Don't be upset. When I make money one day, I'll teach her a lesson for you." Elliot sent a voice message. He sounded tired, but there was a smile in his voice. "All right. I'll wait for Molly to become rich and protect me. Get some sleep." My eyes stung for no sensible reason. Maybe I was really a terrible person. By day, I played the cruel heiress and worked him half to death. At night, I used another account to comfort him. I was giving myself emotional whiplash. That weekend, Elliot brought me to the restaurant where he worked. The moment I put on the server's uniform, I wanted to disappear. I had eaten there many times. The manager knew me. I shoved my glasses higher, pulled the wig low, and prayed he had terrible eyesight. "This is Molly Reed," Elliot told the manager. "She's a freshman looking for weekend work." The heavyset manager narrowed his eyes at me, then waved impatiently. "Fine. Clear table three." Relieved, I hurried away. Table three was covered in greasy plates, leftover steak, and dried pasta sauce. I had never cleared a table in my life. I pinched the edge of one plate and tried to place it on the tray. My shoe slipped, and my hand shot toward the table. Crash. Five plates and all their leftovers shattered across the floor. The entire restaurant fell silent. The manager charged over and jabbed a finger at my face. "Are you blind? Those plates cost hundreds. Can you even afford them, you useless klutz?" My temper ignited. They were cheap plates. I had broken more expensive things because I disliked the sound they made. I was about to overturn the table when Elliot rushed over and stepped between us. "I'm sorry. She's new. Take the cost out of my paycheck." "Your paycheck? You were late twice this month. There's barely anything left. Both of you are fired." Spit flew from the manager's mouth. Watching Elliot lower his head because of me filled me with sudden, furious heat. Who did that man think he was, speaking to Elliot like that? "Who are you to fire him?" I shoved Elliot aside, grabbed the last empty glass on the table, and smashed it beside the manager's shoes. Glass scattered across the floor. The manager stumbled backward and stared at me as if I had grown horns. "You're a broke little nobody, and you dare act like this?" "I quit. This miserable restaurant deserves to go out of business." I caught Elliot by the wrist and dragged him out without looking back. Chapter 4 I didn't stop until we were two blocks away, both of us gasping for breath. I was doomed. Had I acted too arrogant? No struggling student would react like that. I turned guiltily toward Elliot. He leaned against a wall, his chest rising and falling as he watched me. "Um... I'm sorry. I made you lose your job." I lowered my head and forced tears into my eyes, trying to look pitiful. "Aren't you angry? You really need the money." Elliot walked over and rubbed the top of my awful wig. "Why would I blame you? I'll find another job. And... thank you for standing up for me." His expression softened, and my heart skipped. Whenever I caused trouble, my father usually told me I had embarrassed the family. No one had ever thanked me for causing a scene on their behalf. I stared at Elliot's face, rose onto my toes without thinking, and kissed his cheek. The moment I did it, my mind went blank. Elliot froze too. His ears turned visibly red. "That... that's the highest form of gratitude where I come from. I have to get back to my dorm." I blurted out the nonsense and fled. Back in my room, I threw off the wig, buried myself in the blankets, and rolled around in horror. "Sienna Wilde, have you lost your mind? You kissed the broke scholarship student," I shouted inwardly. For the next two months, I bounced between my two identities. By day, I was the demanding Wilde heiress, constantly sending Elliot to fetch coffee or run pointless errands. At night, I was sweet, understanding Molly, listening while he complained about how impossible Sienna Wilde was. On weekends, I wore the wig and glasses and followed him from one temporary job to another. We handed out flyers in mascot costumes and worked as actors in an escape-room attraction. I ruined nearly everything, and Elliot rescued me every time. Before long, I realized I had started depending on being Molly. Only with Molly did Elliot lower his distant guard and let me see how gentle he could be. One weekend, he brought me to a small pet-grooming shop for another shift. I arrived fully disguised in the wig, thick glasses, and a camouflage jacket that could survive stains. The shop was filled with muddy, excited dogs. I had been obsessive about cleanliness since childhood. When the dogs rushed me, I stumbled backward in alarm. "Stay away. You're filthy." I waved them off in disgust. Elliot came over and handed me a grooming brush. "They won't be dirty after a bath. Didn't you say you had dogs back home?" My stomach lurched. Right. I had to remember my own fake history. I forced myself to take the brush and crouched beside a golden retriever. The dog shook water all over me. I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed, "You ridiculous dog. You ruined my custom-designed..." I clapped a hand over my mouth. Custom-designed? I looked up in horror and met Elliot's unreadable gaze. He studied me without blinking. "Custom-designed what?" I swallowed while my mind sprinted. "My custom-designed camouflage jacket. I paid a fortune for it online. It's extremely durable." Elliot said nothing. His gaze felt as though it could strip away every layer of my disguise. Nervous, I stood. "I'm going to wash my hands." I hurried to the sink and scrubbed frantically at the soap. Then a low voice came from behind me. "Sienna Wilde."