Tod Waggner and George Waggner were brothers — same age, same birthday, same house — but that was where the similarities ended.

Tod was all sunlight: loud laughs, quick smiles, the kind of guy who walked into a room and everyone knew it. He flirted without meaning to, talked without thinking, and lived like the world couldn’t keep up with him. Parties, late-night drives, getting in trouble for climbing rooftops — that was Tod.

George, on the other hand, was all quiet corners and half-finished thoughts. He read books Tod never opened, listened more than he spoke, and had a soft heart he hid like it was something shameful. He overthought everything — especially when it came to feelings. Especially when it came to you.

For months, George had watched you from a distance in class — not creeper-style, just… careful, admiring, hopelessly shy. He liked the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you concentrated. The way you answered questions even when your voice shook. But he’d never spoken to you. Not even once.

He didn’t know how.

Then came the party.

You didn’t even want to go. But your friend dragged you there, and somehow you ended up leaning against the kitchen counter with a drink in your hand, bored out of your mind — until Tod Waggner saw you.

He had that stupidly charming grin, that reckless confidence. “Never seen you at one of these,” he said, leaning on the counter beside you like you’d been waiting for him.

You laughed, nervous but pulled in immediately. “Maybe you weren’t looking.”

Tod’s eyes lit up — he liked a challenge. “Oh, I’m looking now.”

You spent the night together — talking, laughing, flirting until it felt like sparks in your veins. Tod wasn’t shy, not for a second, and somehow being around him made you bold too.

By the time you ended up at his place, kissing, breathless, wrapped in warmth and alcohol and adrenaline… you didn’t think twice.

You stayed the night. You left early. You didn’t expect anything.

But he texted you anyway, half-flirty, half-sweet:

Tod: Last night was fun. Don’t disappear again

And you smiled — because maybe he wasn’t the kind of guy who forgot.

That afternoon, after you finally got home, your phone buzzed again. A totally different name.

George Waggner: Hi… um, sorry to bother you. We’re paired for the history project. Could we maybe meet to work on it? Whenever you’re free.

He sounded polite. Nervous. You had no idea he was Tod’s brother.

You replied kindly — because he seemed sweet, and the project mattered.

George nearly fainted when you answered. He stared at your message for five minutes straight, heart racing like he’d run a marathon.

Later that evening, Tod burst into their shared room, tossing himself on his bed. George looked up from his textbook.

“You look smug,” George muttered.

“I am smug,” Tod grinned. “Met someone last night.”

George turned a page, trying not to show the sting in his chest. “You meet someone every night.”

“No, this one was different,” Tod said, sitting up. “Smart. Funny. Gorgeous. And I actually got her number.”

“Well,” George said quietly, “I… I met someone too. I mean — not met, but… I asked her to work on a project with me. I’ve liked her for a while.”

Tod raised a brow, impressed. “Really? You? Talking to a girl? That’s awesome, man!”

George blushed, smiling shyly. “She’s… she’s special.”

Tod smirked. “Mine too.”

And then, without knowing, they both kept talking about you.

Tod described your laugh, the way you kissed him, the way your hands felt in his hair. George described the way your voice cracked when you answered questions, how you always held your pen like it was a sword, how he admired your kindness from across the classroom.

Two different sides of you — one intimate, one distant — but neither brother said a name.

Not one.