She Called Me a Homewrecker—But Her Boyfriend Was My Brother

All I wanted was five dollars for boba from my older brother.

Our university's freshman leadership program included outdoor fitness training. By the afternoon break, I was exhausted enough to beg.

“Your favorite sister is dying out here. Send milk tea. Please.”

No answer. I tried again.

“Ignoring me now? Found yourself a better little sister?”

This time, his account replied immediately.

“Brother this, brother that. Is that the only way you know how to get a man's attention?”

I thought he was being weird. Then I woke from a nap to find my picture and our messages on the campus gossip page.

A senior I'd never met had posted them.

“My boyfriend left his spare phone with me while he's away on business. Look what I found. She's a freshman here. Already chasing someone else's man, and she can't even afford a five-dollar drink.”

Someone offered fifty dollars to find out what else “Boba Girl” would do.

The senior replied, “Fifty? Five would cover it.”

I saved screenshots and a recording of the post, so angry I could barely hold my phone steady.

If this was the woman my brother planned to bring into our family, he and I needed to talk.

————————————————

I called Ethan as soon as I'd saved everything.

My older brother, Ethan Cole, had been overseas for a technology conference. Had he come home without telling me? And when had he acquired a girlfriend who thought she could talk about me like that?

His phone was off.

I tried again. Same result.

When I came back from the shower, my roommate pointed at the phone on my bed.

“Lena, that thing hasn't stopped buzzing.”

More than a hundred messages. The friend-request count had stopped at 99+.

Strangers were calling me a whore, asking my price, telling me to keep away from other women's boyfriends. One message included my room number.

I went back to the post. The senior had added my full name, Lena Hayes, my major, my training group, and my dorm.

People who'd never spoken to me knew where I slept.

I sat on the edge of the bed and sent the post to a close friend. If this woman could find out everything about me, I could at least find out her name.

By the time training ended the next afternoon, my friend had an answer.

“Vanessa Yates. Senior. People are obsessed with her looks. She's interning at Northbridge Holdings right now. This is her.”

The message came with a photo.

Northbridge Holdings. My brother's company.

Great. An intern. Of course this mess had something to do with him.

I was typing a reply when iced milk tea hit me in the face.

I gasped. Tea went up my nose and down the front of my shirt. When I wiped my eyes, the woman from the photo was standing in front of me, holding an empty cup.

Vanessa had long, carefully curled hair and two huge guys in athletic gear behind her.

“Lena Hayes?” She looked me over. “You like milk tea so much? Have another.”

Before I could step away, she tipped a second cup over my head.

Ice slid inside my collar. I stood there soaked, my legs aching from training, while the students heading off the field stopped to watch.

“How long have you been going after Ethan Cole?” Vanessa demanded. “I'm his girlfriend. His actual girlfriend. You knew he was taken.”

“What are you—”

“And the thousand dollars you got out of him last month? You're paying that back.”

Someone behind me said, “Wait, is that Boba Girl?”

Phones came up. The space around us filled.

“That's her.”

“Good. Maybe she'll leave other people's boyfriends alone now.”

“Get her, Vanessa.”

I wiped my face with my sleeve. The tea was sticky already. I wanted to shove the empty cup out of her hand, but first I needed these people to hear one simple fact.

“Ethan Cole is my brother. My actual brother.”

Vanessa stopped for a second. Then she laughed in my face.

“At least come up with a decent lie. His last name is Cole. Yours is Hayes. How stupid do you think I am?”