The Pretenders

by Rebecca Hanover

  “I didn’t realize sucking up to my dad was your new extracurricular,” I mutter.

  One end of Ollie’s mouth turns up, in that way he has of looking cocky and sweet and annoying as hell, all at once. “I need something to round out my college applications.”

  Normally I’d smack him, but his witty comment is nearly drowned out by the protestors. “Say no to clones! Say no to clones!” The students amp up their rallying cries.

  I look angrily past the knot of kids, still searching for that teacher to intervene, when I let out an audible gasp. It’s them, up ahead, maybe ten feet in front of us. I’ve been so focused on the rally, I almost missed them. It’s the Similars. Maude, Theodora, and Jago. I haven’t seen the three of them in months, since we all left for vacation. They spent the summer together in Boston, holed up in a sublet they rented with funds that their guardian had earmarked as spending money. I don’t know how they arranged that without an adult’s approval, but maybe Gravelle signed off on it. All I know is that they didn’t return to Castor Island. They feared that if they left the country, they might never be able to return. Which is why a feeling of dread has been churning deep in my gut since we left Levi on the island. What if he can never return to Darkwood—and to me?

  Two of the Similars were invited to live with their DNA families over the summer. Pippa with Prudence and her parents on the Stanwick family farm, and Ansel in Los Angeles with the de Leon family. I spot Ansel now, exiting a black SUV to join his friends. I’m flooded with questions I want to ask them. Suddenly, the Similars feel like the only people I want to be with, besides Ollie and Pru. They are my only tie to Levi.

  I’m also beyond furious about this protest. I’m approaching the cluster of students carrying signs when I see another girl walking up to join them. A girl with shiny blond hair and a familiar face. It’s Madison Huxley. She’s proudly bearing a banner like the others. Written in large block letters are the words SAY NO TO CLONES. She takes her place among the other students as the decibel of the chant rises.

  I charge toward her.

  “Emma…” Ollie warns, hurrying to my side. “Are you sure you wanna provoke her? I hear she bites. And she could be rabid.”

  But I don’t stop. I’m going to tear that sign out of Madison’s perfectly manicured fingers. I reach her in less than two seconds, grabbing the sign and crumpling it before she can stop me.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Madison reacts, outraged.

  “I could ask you the same question. You graduated. You don’t even go here anymore. I’ve seen you all over the feeds. Stumping for your mom on the campaign trail.”

  “Of course I’m supporting her,” Madison snaps. “My mother’s a presidential candidate. If she wins, I’ll be the first person in history to have both their parents elected to the White House.” Her eyes narrow as she considers me with disdain. “Are you sure you want to continue this little tirade? Because the powerful people in my circle could made your life extremely miserable if I wanted them to.”

  “Emma, let’s go.” Ollie nudges me. “She’s not worth it.”

  Madison’s eyeing Ollie now, giving him the once-over. “Welcome back, Oliver,” she purrs. “I wondered at the end of last year if you’d be too behind to come back as a senior. Maybe you’ll have to repeat eleventh grade?”

  I feel myself growing hot. How dare she? “He completed almost all his missed coursework over the summer—”

  But Madison doesn’t let me finish. “I see Emma’s loyalty to you hasn’t wavered. Or yours to her. Though I wouldn’t blame you if you felt differently about things. You know—since Levi.”

  Her words sting, and I avoid meeting Ollie’s eyes. Madison can be cruel; I know this. But this is almost too painful to bear. I’m grasping for an appropriate comeback, but before I can respond, a gravelly voice interrupts us.

  “Students, continue on to your dorms!” I see Principal Fleischer standing in the distance, speaking into a megaphone, trying to wrestle control of the situation. “Make a path. Let the cars through. I repeat, continue on to your dorms!”

  Kids reluctantly turn their attention from the protestors and wheel their luggage across the lawn. Ollie and I walk away from Madison as the crowd begins to thin, cars start moving again, and the anti-clone cries grow weaker. Maybe they’ve lost some of their mojo now that Principal Fleischer and a couple of other teachers have arrived. Fleischer is engaged in a heated conversation with Madison and the silver-haired girl, who’s gesturing wildly, probably defending what they’re doing. I tear my eyes away and head toward my friends, eager to talk to them, to tell them in confidence about my surprise call from Gravelle. My pulse quickens as I remember what Gravelle said. That Levi doesn’t want to come back. Or see me.

  I don’t believe him. Levi wouldn’t—not after everything that happened last year. Could he have forgotten what we shared? Has he forced himself to forget?

  Or is Gravelle telling the truth?

  “I could kill every single one of those protestors,” I say through gritted teeth as I approach Maude, Jago, Ansel, and Theodora. “Metaphorically, anyway.”

  “Ignore them,” Maude warns, her voice stern. “The angrier you get, the more ammunition you give them.”

  We hug and exchange hellos. The others tell me Pippa and Pru are arriving later, before assembly. They’ve been with Pru’s dad, Jaeger, on the farm, wrapping up Pru’s mom’s affairs; she died in July. I flew out for the funeral, determined to offer Pru some of the lifesaving support she’d given me when Ollie—when I thought he’d died, last year.

  “So, Madison’s gone full Wicked Witch of the West,” Ollie notes, waving to Maude and Theodora. Fist-bumping Ansel and Jago. Ollie doesn’t know my friends that well; after all, he missed all but the last six weeks of junior year, squirreled away on Gravelle’s island.

  “It’s awful,” I say. “Why won’t she stay on the campaign trail? We were supposed to be rid of her after graduation!”

  “We should unpack,” Jago says, dismissing the whole topic. It’s a good reminder of how strong he is. How strong they all are.

  We walk together, briskly, toward our dorms. I’m dying to tell them everything Gravelle said to me, but I can’t, not with Ollie here. With a pang, I realize that in some ways, I feel closer to my new friends than I am to him.

  Maybe it’s because you’re one of them.

  No. I’m not convinced I’m a clone, not by a long shot. There are a million reasons why Gravelle would lie to me about that.

  We’ve reached my dorm, Cypress. I give Ollie a quick hug, taking in his soapy, minty smell, reminding myself that this very act, our proximity, is nothing short of a miracle. “See you at assembly,” I murmur before heading into my room and letting the door slam shut behind me.

  “Dash, I’m gonna need your help. And possibly a hug,” I add, hoping Dash appreciates my sarcasm. He can’t hug me, obviously; he’s 100 percent virtual.

  “Any time, Emma,” Dash responds. His jovial voice is a salve to me. I survey the familiar space, settling my gaze on the few photographs and books that Pru and I left here over the summer. I drop my suitcase by my bare-bones desk, then glance out at Dark Lake, noting how black and gleaming it looks today, in the crisp autumn sun.

  “Is there an email…” I can barely say it. “From Gravelle?”

  “Affirmative,” Dash responds. “Would you like me to open it?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, though I’m terrified by what it might say.

  I close my eyes, bracing myself.

  “Emmaline,” Dash’s voice warns.

  I open my eyes. “What? What is it?”

  “Perhaps you should reconsider—”

  I don’t let him finish that thought. I look down at my plum screen. A photo fills it entirely.

  It’s a close-up of a face. Levi’s face.

  He’s badly bruised,
with blood caked around his nose and a puffy red eyelid, like someone punched him, hard. That eye is swollen entirely shut. The other looks glossy and distant, and his mouth is unsmiling.

  “Emma, don’t—”

  But Dash is powerless to stop me from reading the caption underneath the picture.

  I warned you when you left my island, Eden. You should have listened. Levi stays here. Any and all correspondence he receives will result in more of this. Yes, he heals quickly. But this is nothing compared to the mind control. I know you remember my virtual simulations. As I recall, you’re the only one who ever broke out of them. Levi doesn’t possess your incomparable mental agility. Are we clear?

  Fondly,

  A. Gravelle

  The Nine

  An hour later, I arrive at the chapel for assembly. I have to work hard to calm myself. To banish that picture of Levi from my mind long enough to act like a functioning human being. I step onto the lawn to join my friends and notice that Madison’s standing a few feet from us, and she’s not alone. Jago’s original, Jake Choate, is next to her, and on her other side is Archer de Leon. I knew Jake would be returning for a fifth year at Darkwood, to play soccer and pad his college applications with some extra APs. But I have no idea what Archer’s doing on campus. Given how he’s risen to fame these last few months, I would have assumed he’d be off doing celebrity stuff. He must be here to see his Similar, Ansel, because he’s waving in our direction.

  “Ansel, buddy! Glad you made it,” Archer’s saying. Ansel gives a little smile and breaks off from our group, ambling over to return Archer’s greeting with a fist bump. Ansel has become a lot more comfortable in his skin than he was a year ago, when he first came to Darkwood and was so much shier than his über-popular original.

  I’m about to tell Maude, Theodora, and Jago that I need to talk to them later when Headmaster Ransom walks up, and I don’t get the chance. I bristle at the sight of him, my mind replaying the image of the Similars, bound to those chairs in the abandoned science building last year, unconscious, at the mercy of Ransom and his twisted “research.” It’s all I can do not to threaten to expose him, right then and there, but Maude places a swift hand on my arm to silence me.

  “Maude Gravelle. May I have a word?” Ransom asks, looking more weary than I remember, his face heavily lined.

  Good. I hope he feels guilty as hell about what he’s doing to them. I hope his research is failing. And eating him up inside—

  “Of course,” Maude answers, interrupting my thoughts. “But whatever you have to say, you can tell me here, in front of my friends.”

  “As you wish.” Ransom looks downright exhausted, but I have little sympathy for the man who’s pretending to be the Similars’ champion. “You’ve been chosen as this year’s leader of the prestigious Ten. As the head of Darkwood’s most esteemed academic society, it will be your job to plan Ten meetings, formulate the group’s agenda for the school year, and serve as liaison between the Ten and the Darkwood administration. Do you have any questions?”

  “I have one,” I say before Maude can stop me. “Are we required to intimidate the other students? Make them feel so bad about themselves that they consider leaving school—or worse?” I don’t say jumping off Hades Point, but I don’t have to. Ransom knows what I mean.

  Ransom surveys me, and I wonder if he’s going to issue a reprimand, but Theodora jumps in before he can respond. “Obviously, it’s up to Maude to set the tone of the Ten. An honor she won’t take lightly,” Theodora adds with authority. “Right?”

  “Right,” Maude agrees.

  “If you’ll excuse me, assembly is about to begin.” Ransom walks off as Maude lets out a sigh of relief.

  “At least that’s over,” she says.

  “How do you do it? Stand there and talk to him civilly like that when he’s treating you like human science experiments?”

  “We are human science experiments,” Theodora says, her voice quiet. “Remember?”

  “And Ransom’s exploiting you for his own gain.”

  “What was that about Ransom?” asks a familiar voice. We all turn to see Pru and Pippa standing there on the lawn, outside the chapel, arm in arm.

  I don’t think. I don’t need to. I reach out to engulf Pru in my arms. I’m reminded of the start of school last year, when she hugged me and I held on for dear life. Now, the tables have turned. She has lost a loved one: her mother. And unlike Ollie, Pru’s mom isn’t coming back.

  “Pru,” I choke.

  Her face is pressed up against my bare shoulder, and I feel hot, wet tears on my skin. My words feel inadequate, and it’s because I know there’s not a thing I can say to her right now that will make losing her mother okay.

  “I’m hanging in there,” Pru answers when we break apart. “Really.”

  The Similars are hugging Pippa, asking how she is.

  “We went through my mom’s things,” Pru explains to the group. “Sorted a lifetime’s worth of belongings. My old tests. A bunch of picture frames and macaroni jewelry I made her as a kid. I still can’t believe she’s really gone.” Pippa squeezes Pru’s arm, and the others fold in for a group hug. “I kept this,” Pru adds, pulling a necklace out from beneath her hoodie. It’s gold, with a little sailboat and some kind of blue stone. Pru’s wearing it right next to her Darkwood key. “My mom got it as a gift to herself on my fourteenth birthday. It reminded her of me, because of my rowing. And Pippa took one of Mom’s rings.”

  Pippa holds up her hand, displaying a delicate gold band. A single, tiny diamond glints in the light. “Jaeger wanted me to have it,” Pippa says, her voice contemplative, even more so than usual.

  I’d wondered how Pru would feel about Pippa being there with her over the summer while Pru’s mom was in hospice. Whether she’d want this girl who had only recently joined their family to share in that heartbreakingly special and sad time. When I flew to Jaeger’s farm for the funeral, Pru told me that Pippa was keeping a respectable distance. Not acting like she had any claims to Pru’s mom. She’s been more of a support system to Jaeger and Pru than anything else.

  We’re going to be late if we don’t head inside, so we wordlessly file into the chapel for the first assembly of the year.

  I grab Pru’s hand as we filter in. “If you need anything. Any time, any place. I’m your girl,” I tell her.

  “You came all the way to Castor Island last year to find me,” Pru reminds me with a wry smile. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got my back.”

  Maude walks up beside me. “We’ll deal with Ransom,” she says in my ear, low so the others can’t hear. “But, Emma, think about it.” We hold out our arms so Principal Fleischer can scan our plums—rendering them useless except for buzzing our families and checking school-approved feeds—and then walk inside the chapel to claim seats. “If we refuse to participate in his experiments, he’ll have no reason to want us here anymore. He’ll send us back to Castor Island. And then what? We may never be able to come back to the States. You said it yourself—we aren’t citizens. We can’t come and go as we please.”

  We cram next to each other in a pew, amid the buzzing student body.

  “Couldn’t you apply for a visa?” I ask. But I know that’s a naive suggestion. Gravelle would have to sign off on that. And what if he refused?

  “We aren’t eighteen. Gravelle is still our legal guardian,” Maude reminds me. “Once we set foot on the island, all bets are off. Emma, try to understand what it’s been like for us. Why it’s not as simple as you want it to be. It’s why we can’t prosecute him for keeping Levi there, even if we wanted to. Gravelle is his legal guardian.”

  “He isn’t Ollie’s guardian. Or Pru’s,” I remind her. “And he kept both of them prisoner last year too.”

  “I know. And Jane Ward has chosen not to pursue this with the authorities,” she says, her eyes gazing forward, at the podium. �
�She thinks it would only make Gravelle more vindictive. And you know Jaeger. He’s going to make things right via the Quarry. His underground activist group can take care of things far better than the legal system, anyway.”

  She’s right. This is a lot more complicated than I’d like to admit. Gravelle is practically untouchable when it comes to the law. Especially now, since he likely hasn’t stepped off his micronation in years. As long as he’s there, he’s immune to the laws of other countries and can create his own. My mind spins, making it hard to concentrate on the assembly. It’s the same old generic speech Ransom gave last year, minus the fanfare around the Similars’ arrival and the sixty seconds of silence in honor of Oliver. Speaking of Ollie, he’s found me and has slid into the seat next to me. His presence warms me up by proximity.

  “Hey,” Ollie says quietly, in that way he has of making me feel like the only person on the planet, even in a room filled with hundreds of our peers.

  “You’re late,” I whisper back. “You just missed the tediously boring part where Ransom drones on and on about excellence and identity, blah blah blah.”

  “No, I think that’s now,” Ollie quips.

  Oh, how I’ve longed for this. Our rapport. Our “usness.” With a jolt in my stomach I think of everything I’m keeping from him. The last thing I want to do is lie to Ollie. But I can’t tell him any of it. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  At dinner, we all sit together: me, Pru, the Similars, and Ollie. A few tables over, Jake, Madison, and Archer compare plums. Archer laughs at something Madison’s showing him. I wonder why Madison and Archer are still here, hanging around… Probably to keep Jake company. Jake’s other friends have all left Darkwood to start college, and I bet he’s lonely. Not that I care.

  Tessa isn’t here. Although she did manage to graduate last year, she hasn’t started college yet. A judge deemed her violent act against Pru, in the school boathouse, to have been brought on by post-traumatic stress disorder. He ordered her to live in a treatment center for six months.