Twins, what’s the most disturbing thing your other twin has hid from you

The Price of Perfection

I’ve always been slightly better than my twin brother at pretty much everything. In 8th grade, when we ran the 100 meter sprint during field day, Blake finished in 13.35 seconds. I finished in 13.23 seconds.

In 9th grade, when Blake’s report card was straight A’s, mine were always A+es. When we applied to colleges, Blake got into the University of Michigan, and I got into the University of California, Berkeley.

It wasn’t like I was doing it on purpose. Heck, sometimes I would even try to perform worse than usual just so he could let go of his resentment. But it never worked.

So, by the time we left for college, he pretty much hated me. I could tell because he always hung up my phone calls, ignored my texts, and blocked me on social media.

I never blamed him for it, though. Whenever we both came home for the holidays, I tried to shower him with gifts I knew he needed and girl advice.

Usually, he just ignored me or gave me the cold shoulder until one day when he finally caved.

It was the day before Thanksgiving and we were all sitting in the living room when Blake barged in with a huge smirk plastered on his face. “Guys, come into the kitchen.” “I made something for us all.”

We followed him and proceeded to eat the most delicious chicken Alfredo we ever tasted. I literally almost cried; it was so good.

“Bet you couldn’t make this, Hoa,” he asked me. “Absolutely not,” I exclaimed. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

That same day, Blake unblocked me on everything and even followed me on Instagram. He had finally found something he was better than me at, and I was relieved. The rest of Thanksgiving was amazing.

And when I got back to my dorm, I was so inspired by Blake that I started cooking more extravagant dishes. Nothing crazy, just followed a few recipes here and there.

After a few months, I felt pretty confident in my cooking, and I knew that there was no way I could be better than Blake. So, I felt secure in calling him.

“Oh, so you think you’re that good? You should join this competition when you come home for Easter. We’ll see who’s good.”

He then hung up. I somehow mistook his overly sharp and harsh tone for playfulness, so I applied. A part of me was actually excited to lose just so Blake could have his moment in the spotlight.

Fast forward two months later and we were both back at home planning for the competition. I let him take the kitchen while I just sat on the couch watching videos of people cook.

As I said, I literally wanted him to win. I agreed with him, told him he had it in the bag, and that he was the goat.

And on the day of the competition, he was straight up shot talking me. “Did your little GPA teach you how to season food?” “You look so pathetic right now.”

How it’s embarrassing that we even share the same last name are all things that came out of his mouth. It got so bad our competitors came up to me and asked if I was okay.

I had to tell them it was just my twin brother. His comments were deep and personal and they hurt, but I figured if they made him happy, it was worth it because I just wanted us to be a family again.

I tried to just enjoy the process. Meanwhile, whenever I looked over at Blake, I swear I could see beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Then came judgment time.

Blake came second, and his beady eyes stared at me as he went to get his award. I could literally see the corners of his lips turned upwards. Then came the announcement for first place: Noah Donaldson.

Blake’s face fell. I went red. After clarifying that it wasn’t a mistake, I went up for my award. Blake looked so upset I wanted to give him a hug. But instead, I mentioned him in my speech.

I said that he was my inspiration, and that I wouldn’t have been there without him—all the clichés. But as I spoke, I watched as his fists turned white from clenching so hard.

His eyebrows were pulled all the way down. His entire body was completely tense. Fear ran through me.

As soon as I finished my speech, Blake lunged at me for a hug. “I’m so proud of you. Well done.”

His tone was overly sweet, like sticking your tongue into a bag of sugar. I just accepted his surface level kindness, never letting my guard down.

Aside from a few dirty looks from Blake, the rest of Easter went smoothly. It wasn’t until I returned to college that my life went downhill because they kicked me out. I didn’t care about Blake’s feelings anymore when I found out why.

I was ready to ruin his life. “Mr. Donaldson, we need to discuss some serious allegations that have been made against you,” the dean said, sliding a folder across the desk. I opened it and felt my stomach drop.

Inside was a formal complaint accusing me of cheating on my midterms. There were screenshots of text messages supposedly showing me arranging to buy test answers. My name was there, but I’d never sent those messages.

“This isn’t me,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’ve never cheated on anything in my life.”

They didn’t believe me; the evidence looked convincing.

Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make it seem legitimate. The university suspended me pending an investigation and told me to pack my things and leave campus within 48 hours. I called my parents in tears.

They were shocked and confused but promised to help figure things out. Then I called Blake thinking he might offer some brotherly support. He answered on the first ring.

“Hey Noah, how’s it going?” he asked, sounding weirdly cheerful. “Blake, I’m being kicked out of school. Someone framed me for cheating and that’s terrible.”

He cut me off, but something in his voice was off. He almost sounded pleased. “Guess Berkeley isn’t working out for you after all. Maybe you should have gone to Michigan like me.”

That’s when it clicked. The timing was too perfect; the fake evidence too detailed; and he seemed happy about my situation.

“Did you have something to do with this?” I asked directly. “What? No. How could I possibly get you kicked out of a school across the country?”

He laughed, but it sounded forced. “Look, I got to go. Good luck with all that.”

He hung up before I could respond. I sat in my half-packed dorm room, stunned. My own twin brother had set me up.

I didn’t know how he’d done it, but I was certain Blake was behind this. The realization hit me like a truck: his resentment went way deeper than I’d thought.

I spent the next few days moving back home while my parents tried to help me appeal the university’s decision. My mom suggested I talk to Blake directly when he came home for the weekend, thinking there must be some misunderstanding.

I agreed, but not because I thought it was a misunderstanding; I wanted to confront him. When Blake walked through the door Friday evening, he acted completely normal.

He asked how I was doing with fake concern. He told our parents about his great grades this semester. It was surreal watching him pretend to care while knowing he’d just destroyed my academic career.

That night, I waited until everyone was asleep. Then I snuck into Blake’s room and shook him awake. “We need to talk,” I whispered. “Now,” he blinked at me, annoyed. “What’s your problem?”

“I know what you did,” I said, keeping my voice low. “The fake cheating evidence. That was you, wasn’t it?” A slow smile spread across his face. In the dim light from the hallway, it looked almost sinister.

“Prove it,” he whispered back. “Why would you do this to me? I’m your brother.”

Blake sat up in bed. “You’ve been showing me up our entire lives. Every single thing I do, you have to do it better.”

“Even when I finally found something I was good at, you had to take that from me, too. The cooking competition?” “I wasn’t even trying to win.” “Sure you weren’t,” he scoffed.

“Just like you weren’t trying to get better grades or run faster or get into a better college. It just magically happened, right?” I stared at my twin, this person who shared my DNA but felt like a complete stranger.

“So what now? You’ve ruined my education. Are you happy?” Blake leaned in closer. “This is just the beginning, Noah.”

“You took everything from me. Now I’m going to take everything from you.” The cold determination in his voice sent chills down my spine.

This wasn’t just sibling rivalry anymore. My own brother had declared war on me, and I had no idea how far he was willing to go. I realized that the person who knew me best in the world had become my worst enemy.

The thought was terrifying. I left Blake’s room that night with my mind racing. My own twin brother had just admitted to sabotaging my entire college career.

And worse, he threatened to keep going. I spent the whole night staring at my ceiling, trying to figure out what to do next.

The next morning at breakfast, Blake acted completely normal. He chatted with our parents about his classes, laughed at our dad’s lame jokes, and even asked me to pass the orange juice with this fake smile.

I felt like I was in some weird alternate reality where only I knew the truth. “Noah, honey, you’ve barely touched your food,” my mom said, looking concerned.

I mumbled something about not being hungry and excused myself. As I left, I caught Blake smirking at me behind our parents’ backs; that smirk haunted me for days.

My appeal with Berkeley was going nowhere fast.

The evidence against me looked too convincing. Someone had created fake screenshots showing me arranging to buy test answers, including details about my schedule and professors that made it seem legitimate. I knew it was Blake, but I couldn’t prove it.

I tried explaining to the academic review board that I was being framed, but they just gave me these pitying looks like I was a desperate cheater making excuses. One administrator actually said, “Mr. Donaldson, we see this all the time. Students panic when caught and claimed conspiracy theories.”