The Sabotaged Score

When the final test scores came out, I bombed my target by exactly sixty points. Brooks brushed a stray tear from my cheek. "It's okay.

I'll just commit to the same school as you." He had a golden ticket to an Ivy League in his back pocket, yet he was willing to settle for a mediocre state college. Just for me.

That night, I gave myself over to him completely. No reservations. Until the day before the college commitment deadline.

I caught the tail end of a conversation bleeding through the hallway door. "Brooks, you're amazing.

You literally played the system!" Clara's voice practically vibrated with excitement. "Thank god you had Mom swap out Sutton's No. 2 pencils before the exam." "She tanked the math section by exactly sixty points.

Now her total score is only two points higher than mine." Brooks let out a low chuckle. "This way, all three of us can go to the same college." Mom chimed in, her tone dripping with selfrighteous entitlement. "With Sutton right there beside you, she can look after you for the next four years.

It gives me peace of mind." My lungs stopped working. The ambient hum of the house vanished, leaving a sharp, deafening ring in my ears.

That bizarre failure on my math final wasn't a fluke. I hadn't choked under pressure. I hadn't misbubbled my Scantron sheet. It was a setup.

A meticulously crafted trap executed by my childhood sweetheart, all for my adopted sister, with my own mother acting as the accomplice.

That night, I sat in the dark and opened my laptop. The blue light washed over my face as I logged into the student portal. I dragged my cursor over my accepted offer. Delete.

I submitted a new enrollment deposit to a university a thousand miles down South. From this moment on, they were dead to me.

Chapter 1 I sat at my desk, watching the digital clock on my monitor flip past midnight. The enrollment deadline had officially passed. I exhaled a long, shaky breath.

My phone vibrated against the wood. [ Brooks ] Muscle memory took over.

I swiped accept. "Sutton, forgot to mention," his voice floated through the speaker, casual and breezy. "I went into your portal and switched your declared major to Civil Engineering." My fingers flew across the trackpad.

I refreshed my old, nowdeleted application dashboard.

Right there, under the voided intended major, it read what he had done. [ Civil Engineering ] My original password had been a combination of our birthdays.

I only changed it to a secure password this afternoon. He must have logged in and messed with my application days ago.

He waited until this exact minute to tell me because the deadline just passed.

The portal was locked. "What the hell is this, Brooks?" A slight pause on his end. "Look, Clara wants to do PreLaw too." "And?" I kept my voice deadpan.

Silence stretched over the line. When he finally spoke, it was with the tone of someone explaining basic math to a toddler. "You know how cutthroat the PreLaw track is at State.

They only accept a handful of freshmen directly into the program." "Her SAT score was just a hair under yours.

She was terrified of getting waitlisted." He continued without missing a beat. "Your GPA has always been higher anyway.

You can just grind out your freshman year, get top marks, and transfer into the program as a sophomore. It's literally the same thing." My chest tightened.

The breath I had just let out shoved its way back up my throat, suffocating me.

A bitter, hollow laugh scraped out of my lungs. "You're supposed to be this genius at manipulating test scores, Brooks.

Why didn't you just make me score two points lower than her from the start?" Dead air. Then, his voice dropped, probing carefully. "Sutton… when did you find out?

I can explain." "Clara is fragile.

You know about her health issues." "If she goes off to a college by herself, she'll get eaten alive," he pleaded. "This way, all three of us stay at the same campus.

We can look out for each other. Isn't that what you want?" "Drop it." I cut him off. "We're done. Do not contact me again." I jabbed the red button. Blocked his number.

Blocked all his socials. My throat seized. Hot, stinging tears spilled over my lashes, tracking rapidly down my face.

I sat paralyzed in the pitchblack room, my eyes burning in the darkness, wide awake until the sun came up.

Morning arrived, but my windowless basement room remained a dark, suffocating box. Fists hammered against my door. "Sutton!

Are you still in bed?" Miriam's voice grated through the thin wood. "Clara's new hearing aids just got delivered.

Get up and take her to the audiologist." I twisted the knob and pulled the door open. "I'm busy today. Take her yourself." Her features twisted into a scowl. "What is your problem?

If I don't pick up a shift, who's going to pay for your tuition?" I scoffed, my nails digging into the doorframe. "You're working for my tuition?

You forced me to take out maximum student loans.

You made me wear thrifted clothes yearround so you could funnel every spare cent into Clara's piano lessons, her private tutors, her ballet classes…" My vision blurred, a hard lump forming in my throat. "Mom.

Which one of us is actually your biological daughter?" She froze. Her jaw went slack. The perfect, obedient doormat she raised was finally pushing back.

Chapter 2 Miriam opened her mouth, ready to tear into me, but Clara's bedroom door clicked open. "Mom, don't be hard on Sutton." Clara leaned against the doorframe, her voice dripping with practiced sweetness. "I can go by myself." "She tanked her finals.

She's obviously in a bad place." Miriam let out a harsh scoff. "Upset? Who knows who she was cheating off of to get those straight A's all year.

Otherwise, how do you explain that test score?" Her mouth kept moving, but the sound faded into white noise. My gaze drifted past her shoulder, landing inside Clara's bedroom.

Morning sunlight poured through the large bay window, pooling in warm, golden squares across the plush duvet. It was a beautiful room. My old room.

Just like the mother standing in front of me was supposed to be mine. But looking at it now, the craving was just gone. I didn't say another word.

I turned on my heel, walked out the front door, and slammed it shut. It was the dead of July, the heat radiating off the asphalt, but a cold tremor wrecked my spine.

A hot breeze hit my face, drying the tear tracks tight against my skin. I tasted salt on my cracked lips. I walked. No destination, just moving until my legs burned.

When I finally looked up, the rusted gates of the old amusement park loomed in front of me. The exact spot where I first met Brooks.

Thirteen years ago, a fiveyearold girl threw a tantrum for cotton candy and got left on this exact curb by her mother.

Through the hazy heat shimmer, I could almost see the phantom image of a little boy walking up to that crying girl, grabbing her hand, and taking her home. I blinked.

The pavement was empty. Nothing but cracked concrete and weeds. The stomach cramp hit me then. A vicious, tearing sensation right beneath my ribs.

Years of starving myself through study binges just to earn a single scrap of validation from Miriam had shredded my stomach lining. Cold sweat beaded along my hairline.

I fumbled for my phone, my fingers slick and trembling, trying to pull up an Uber. Black spots swarmed my vision. The concrete tilted up to meet me. A hand clamped around my bicep.

Brooks. "Sutton, why the hell did you block me?" His grip tightened, his chest heaving. "I went to your house this morning.

They said you took off." He dragged a hand through his hair. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?

I've been driving around all day looking for you!" His features softened, shifting into that familiar, pleading expression. "I knew you'd come here." He stepped closer. "Just forgive me, okay?

I'll sit with you in the library every single day freshman year. We'll get you transferred into the program, I swear." I shoved his hand off my arm. "Back off." He didn't budge.

Instead, he reached out and wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, the gesture terrifyingly natural. Exactly like he'd done a thousand times before.

His brow furrowed in practiced concern. "Look at you. Sidelined by your ulcer again." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar white prescription bottle.

My medication. "You never remember to carry it. Good thing I always keep track." I swallowed the pills dry. The sharp, tearing heat in my gut slowly dialed back to a dull ache.

The relief of the pain fading—and the pathetic comfort of being cared for—made my throat tight. I opened my mouth, a sliver of hesitation cracking my resolve.

Footsteps slapped against the pavement. Clara bounded over, gripping a massive pink cotton candy in her fist. "Brooks!

Thank you so much for taking me to the audiologist today, and bringing me here. This is literally the best day ever!" She stopped short, her eyes going wide as they landed on me.

A masterclass in fake surprise. "Sutton? What are you doing here? You look awful." I looked at Brooks. A flat, humorless laugh fell from my lips. Worried about me.

Driving around all day looking for me. Every word out of his mouth was garbage. He didn't come here to find me.

He was here on a date with Clara, and I was just a convenient casualty on the sidewalk. Chapter 3 I shoved Brooks' hand away, twisting my torso to put distance between us.

Clara immediately lunged forward, her fingers hooking into my sleeve.

Her eyes swam with highdefinition tears. "Sutton, please don't be mad…" Her voice trembled, a perfect, fragile pitch. "There's nothing going on between Brooks and me.

He just feels sorry for me because I don't have parents, and because of my bad ear." She sniffled. "If I'm ruining things between you two, I won't go to the same college.

I'll just defer for a year." I yanked my arm back so hard her hand snapped away. A raw, ugly sneer curled my lip. "Save the performance for someone who buys it.

You deserve to be halfdeaf." "Sutton!" Brooks moved fast, stepping directly in front of Clara to shield her. "I always thought you were just jealous, but I didn't realize you were actually this vicious." My gaze locked onto the fury blazing in his eyes.

A soft, icy laugh escaped me. "I'm vicious? Brooks, you make me sick to my stomach." Midnight. Nowhere else to go. I hammered on Zoe's front door. She didn't ask questions.

She just let me in, vanished into her kitchen, and came back holding a steaming bowl of ramen. "Eat first, Sutton.

We'll figure out the rest later." She dropped into the chair across from me, propping her chin on her hands. "Let me guess. Clara pulled some psycho stunt again?

You need to tell Brooks." "He'll rip her apart for you." Zoe smiled. "He's literally sacrificing his entire Ivy League future just to be with you.

He's not going to let anyone mess with you." The noodles hit the back of my throat like ash.

My chest seized, the air suddenly too thick to breathe. "Zoe." I set the chopsticks down, the clatter deafening in the quiet kitchen. "We broke up." Her jaw dropped.

She stared at me, completely derailed. "Sutton, you guys have been together for over a decade. You finally made it official after graduation.

What do you mean you broke up?" I buried my face in the bowl, hot tears blurring the broth. Yeah. Over a decade. How does it just vanish? I grew up in a singleparent household.

Miriam's parenting style was less maternal and more penal colony.

Dropping a single point on a test, shattering a water glass, breathing the wrong way—any of it guaranteed I'd be locked out of the house, forced to starve on the porch to reflect on my mistakes.

When I was five, I made the mistake of begging for cotton candy. She abandoned me on the sidewalk. That was the day I met Brooks. "Why are you crying?

Are you sad?" Before I could even look up, my stomach let out a violent growl. "Are you hungry? Come eat at my house." The late afternoon sun hit his back as he said it.

His tiny silhouette glowed in the orange light, looking exactly like a knight sent to drag me out of the dark. He grabbed my hand and led me home.

His mother cooked an absolute feast just for me. It was the first time in my life I had ever tasted what a real home felt like. Those moments piled up.

The space between us shrank to nothing. A quiet, unspoken gravity pulled us together. Elementary school, middle school—we were in the same homeroom, permanently attached at the hip.

When we were thirteen, Clara's parents died in a car crash. The accident blew out her right eardrum. Miriam took one look at the tragic orphan and brought her home.

We were already barely scraping by. Adding another mouth to feed strangled our finances completely. And I was always the collateral damage.

The master bedroom with the bay window went to Clara. Every spare dime funded her extracurriculars. Her hearing aids were always the newest, most expensive model on the market.

I used to think Miriam just didn't possess the maternal gene. I would have believed that forever, if I hadn't watched her raise Clara. She knew exactly how to be a mother.

Just not to me. And it wasn't just her. The sickness spread to everyone else, too. Everyone always chose Clara. Chapter 4 For years, Brooks was the only one in my corner.

He was the shock absorber for all my baggage, the one who listened when I needed to vent.

The second time Miriam locked me out over some imagined slight against Clara, my eyes were raw from crying.

I had looked up at him and asked, "Do you think you'll ever fall for her?" He had just ruffled my hair, his gaze dead serious. "Never, Sutton.

I'm always on your side." So when exactly did the rot set in? Probably the summer of our junior year. A sudden downpour hit right after the final bell.

Brooks and I were huddled under the same umbrella, walking shoulder to shoulder. Up ahead, Clara was trudging through the storm by herself.

She was letting the rain plaster her hair to her face, playing the perfect, fragile victim. Brooks stared at her back and let the words slip. "She has it so hard.

No parents, completely deaf in one ear." Except I clearly remembered watching Miriam shove a brandnew folding umbrella into Clara's backpack that very morning.

Meanwhile, the one keeping Brooks and me dry was a busted handmedown Clara had thrown in the trash, its metal ribs snapping halfway up. It was a calculated performance.

A masterclass in manipulation tailored specifically for him. And in that exact second, Brooks bought it. That was the first quiet, invisible betrayal. I just refused to see it.

I clung to his promises, burying myself in this pathetic delusion that I actually had a family and a boy who loved me. I should have woken up a long time ago.

Zoe caught my silence and dropped the subject. I crashed in her spare room for the next few days. Brooks nuked my phone trying to get ahold of me.

He blew up my socials, sent mutual friends to play messenger, and even made burner accounts just to spam my DMs. I left every single one on read.

Miriam, on the other hand, didn't send a single text checking to see if I was dead or alive.

A week later, our senior class threw a massive graduation party at a local karaoke lounge. I debated skipping it, but eventually forced myself out the door.

The heavy thumping of bass faded as I walked down the carpeted hallway. I stopped right outside the door to our reserved private suite. Voices bled through the heavy wood.

Laughter. "Brooks, man, is your little shadow still giving you the silent treatment?" A guy's voice drifted out, laced with amusement. "Aren't you worried she's actually going to dump you?" Another guy scoffed loudly. "Are you kidding?

Sutton's been orbiting him for over a decade.

She's not going anywhere." "Besides, our boy Brooks is the ultimate romantic," the first guy added. "He's literally throwing away his Ivy League acceptance to slum it at a state school for her." A harsh, dismissive scoff cut through the chatter.

Brooks. "Downgrade? Please. I was just feeding her a line." His voice was deadpan, utterly bored. "You think I'm actually picking a girl over my future?

I know exactly what my priorities are." He paused. Ice water flooded my veins. "If I didn't play the devoted boyfriend, she never would have let me touch her.

She's just throwing a little tantrum right now. But her body is already mine.

If we actually split, who the hell is going to want damaged goods anyway?" The room erupted into crude, howling laughter. The air stopped moving into my lungs