The Pretenders

by Rebecca Hanover

  Ansel’s telling us animatedly about his summer at the de Leons’. While Archer spent most of July and August on set in Thailand shooting a movie, Ansel got to know Archer’s dads, interning for them at their production company. I’m only half listening. All I can think about is Gravelle’s holo-call. His sickening message to me. The fact that my email to Levi is what caused Gravelle to lash out…

  “You okay?” Ollie asks, digging into his casserole.

  I could kick myself for being such an open book. I force myself to hide how not okay I really am. “Of course. Just enjoying this delicious gourmet fare. I forgot how much I missed it,” I add, grimacing for effect.

  “Look, I know they aren’t my family. Not really,” Ansel’s saying between bites of in vitro chicken.

  “Who says they aren’t?” Pippa pipes up. “People look for their birth parents all the time, don’t they? Isn’t it kind of like that for us?”

  “The Huxleys are not my parents, birth or otherwise,” Maude responds.

  “No,” Pippa agrees quietly. “They aren’t.”

  “And I suppose I should start visiting Damian Leroy in prison?” Theodora snaps.

  “I didn’t mean…”

  “Sorry,” Theodora sighs. “I’m happy for you, Pippa. You too, Ansel. It’s just that Maude, Levi, and I aren’t exactly eager to be adopted by our DNA parents. No offense,” she adds for Oliver’s benefit.

  “And it makes us want to vomit even calling them that. I prefer ‘unwilling DNA donors,’” Maude adds, spearing a carrot with her fork.

  The conversation is cut short when Principal Fleischer strides to the front of the room to announce this year’s stratum rankings. She informs the student body that Maude Gravelle will be this year’s Ten leader, which is met with light applause. A lot of kids twist in their seats, and some even stand up in place, to get a better look at Maude. She’s the exact DNA copy of last year’s Ten leader, which makes her uniquely interesting to many of our classmates, though not to me. I don’t even see Madison’s face when I look at Maude anymore. I only see my friend.

  “Moving on to the rankings,” Fleischer continues. “Please wait for your name to be called. Then retrieve your envelope.” The members of the junior class straighten in their chairs, but us seniors, already ranked last year, listen with mild curiosity. I’m too preoccupied to care who’ll be joining us in the Ten. It’s not until the faces of the new junior members are projected on the eight-foot view screen that I snap to attention. I don’t personally know most of these new Ten members or recognize them from my classes, but one face stands out to me. It takes me a second to place her.

  “She was leading the protest this morning,” Ollie whispers in my ear, getting there faster than me.

  He’s right. It’s the girl with the silver hair. According to the stratum announcement, her name is Harlowe Shaw. My heart sinks. We’ll be in the Ten together. And worse, so will Pippa, Theodora, and Maude.

  I snag Maude and Pru at the end of dinner. “The junior with the number-two stratum? She was one of the protestors this morning.”

  Maude doesn’t look fazed. “I’m aware.”

  “Ransom’s still letting kids get away with that?” Pru asks, visibly agitated.

  That’s right; I’d almost forgotten that Pru missed that hateful display this morning. I’m glad she didn’t see it. She doesn’t need that right now.

  “What do we do?” I moan. “Induct this girl into our group like everything’s normal?”

  “What choice do we have?” Maude asks. “We don’t pick who’s in the Ten. Madison didn’t want a single one of us in it last year. But even she couldn’t do anything about it.”

  “Except torment us.”

  “Except that,” Maude agrees.

  This is a disaster. Tradition dictates that we should be holding the first midnight session tonight. We’re going to have to welcome Harlowe Shaw into Darkwood’s most esteemed group. I don’t know if I can be in the same room with her without throwing a punch.

  “Excuse me.” Maude clangs a spoon on a glass, getting the attention of the student body. It takes a few moments, but finally everyone quiets, curious to hear what the new Ten leader has to say. “I’d like to make an announcement, if I may, Principal Fleischer?”

  Fleischer nods begrudgingly. I notice Madison bristling at her table. I feel rage course through me, thinking of this morning, those signs she was brandishing.

  “As leader of the Ten,” Maude addresses the dining hall, “I’d like to officially welcome our five new members into this prestigious group. I’ll also remind you that it’s a great honor to be a part of the Ten, one you should take seriously. Congratulations. And now for a bit of business. There are two changes happening to the Ten this year. First, the group’s name,” Maude goes on in her confident way. “Unfortunately, we are missing one of our senior members. Levi Gravelle did not return at the end of the last school year, and he is regrettably not here now. Since senior members of the Ten cannot be replaced, our group will, for the duration of the school year, be called the Nine.”

  My heart drops to my feet.

  “As for the second change, I am, as leader of the Nine, hereby suspending all initiation activities. There will be no hazing—school-authorized or otherwise. There will be no rituals to determine whether you deserve your spot in the group. This announcement is your initiation. So, Sophie Ortiz, Ivy Li, Willa Stone, Graham Rosen, and Harlowe Shaw: welcome.”

  The dining hall buzzes as kids take in this news. Hazing has never been sanctioned by the school, but everyone knows it takes place under the administration’s nose. All around me, students discuss this new wrinkle.

  “I’ll see the eight of you in the Tower Room of Cypress. Midnight, tonight,” Maude declares before leaving the dining hall with the rest of us.

  “Satisfied?” she asks me, all business. I nod, and Ollie looks impressed as we walk down the dimly lit path.

  “I missed a lot last year, didn’t I?” he says, gazing out over Dark Lake. There’s humor in his voice, but behind his eyes, he’s sad. I can tell.

  That night, hours later, I can’t sleep. It’s eleven o’clock, and I have an hour before I need to be in the Tower Room, meeting the Nine for our first midnight session. I lie on top of my covers in my jeans and hoodie, my mind churning over the events of the day. Especially that photo Gravelle sent, the one of Levi’s battered face. It’s all I can see when I close my eyes. I’m yanked out of my thoughts by Dash, alerting me that I have a new notification on my plum. I look down at the screen to read the message there.

  no hazing? that can be remedied

  I check the sender. It’s Harlowe Shaw.

  Harlowe

  I sit up in bed, sneaking a look over at Pru. She’s fast asleep. Good. I glance down at my plum and send a reply to Harlowe, using a voice command via my bot.

  Not taking the bait. You heard what Maude said. Hazing canceled. Get w/ the program.

  The response from Harlowe appears almost instantly.

  if u don’t want your friends to suffer too much, meet me @ the driveway outside the main house. 5 min.

  I snap to attention. Would Harlowe really do something to hurt the other members of the Nine? The Similar members of the Nine?

  I shove my feet into my sneakers. I won’t wake Pru, not when this is probably a prank. It’s got to be a trick to get me out of bed and scare me into thinking that my friends are in trouble.

  I leave my key around my neck. I feel more trackable with it on my body. Traceable.

  Slipping out the back door of Cypress, I note that except for the beams from a few lights dotting the campus walkways, it’s pitch-dark out. And cold. And so silent, all I hear are my footsteps on the asphalt and the distant hum of crickets.

  “Dash,” I whisper. “Send a buzz to Maude, Theodora, and Pippa. Ask them if they’re okay. Tel
l them to pin their location.”

  “Will do, Emmaline,” Dash replies.

  When I arrive at the circular drive in front of the main house, I’m totally alone, save for a single car waiting there. It’s an older model red Volvo, probably vintage; that’s how ancient it looks. I wonder briefly what it’s doing there. But mostly I’m looking for Harlowe. There’s no sign of her.

  “Dash,” I say more urgently this time. “Any response from my friends?”

  “I’m sorry, Emma,” he replies. “All three of their devices are off-line.”

  My chest tightens. Off-line? If it weren’t for the midnight session, it’d be perfectly reasonable for my friends to turn off their plums. It’s way past curfew. But the Nine meeting starts in under an hour. I doubt they’ve gone to sleep. Why aren’t they answering?

  I scan the grounds for Harlowe. Not seeing her anywhere, I start to turn back, annoyed with myself for falling for this, when someone leans out the driver’s-side window of the red Volvo.

  “Like my ride?” says the girl. I squint to get a better look. It’s Harlowe. Of course it is. Wary, I start walking toward her. Students aren’t allowed to have cars on campus, and even if we could, none of us can get a license until we’re twenty-one. The car is clearly contraband. Up close to her now, I can make out her features in the moonlight. Her piercing black eyes and cropped, silver-dyed hair. The car is running, and it’s not the electric hum I’m used to. This car runs on gas.

  “So, you feel like targeting the Similars?” I ask, making my voice sound breezy. “Great idea. That’s going to end really well for you. But go ahead. Try it.”

  “We did,” she answers, her eyes dancing like she’s holding on to a delicious secret. “It actually went swimmingly. Oh, I guess you don’t know. First, we injected them with pharmas, then we transported them to a remote location, and, finally, we left them there without their plums. Or their clothes.” She laughs.

  I feel heat rising through my body. Anger. Rage. “You’re lying.”

  Harlowe shrugs. “Go back to Cypress and wait for the midnight session to start. I promise you, they won’t show up.”

  I stare at Harlowe, trying to suss out whether she’s messing with me. It’s impossible to know. She seems so flippant about the whole thing. Is she really that brazen? That shameless?

  “Tell me where they are,” I choke out, my frustration turning to mild panic.

  “No problem,” Harlowe says. “Just get in the car, and I’ll take you straight to them.”

  Get in the car? Has she lost her mind? The last thing I’d ever want to do is get in an illegal vehicle and drive off campus with this girl.

  “Look, it’s not really a hard decision, is it?” Harlowe examines her reflection in the rearview mirror, acting like this whole conversation is no big deal. That only makes me more furious. “You get in the car. I bring you to your friends. Or if you’d rather head to your dorm and go to bed…” She shrugs.

  My head spins, and I feel sick with anger. Harlowe might be totally lying to me. But if she isn’t, and my friends are in trouble… I can’t tolerate that.

  “Why should I believe anything you say?” I press, trying to keep my voice from wavering and showing weakness.

  “Oh, I get it. It’s not like we know each other. You probably want some kind of proof, right? I would, if I were you.” Harlowe presses a button on her plum screen, and a photo pops up. She flicks her wrist lazily in my direction, showing me a picture of Maude, Theodora, and Pippa. They’re bound and gagged.

  I feel bile rising in my throat, nausea swimming in my stomach. “What did you do to them?” I whisper.

  Harlowe laughs, warming her hands in front of the heating vent, rubbing them together. “It’s only an initiation, Emma. We don’t plan to hurt them.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  “Me, Ivy, and Graham.” She scowls. “Willa and Sophie didn’t want to play along.”

  I consider walking away. Running back to my dorm room, waking up Pru and Ollie, and scouring the campus for my friends. But if Harlowe’s telling the truth, and she really has transported them off campus, we’ll have wasted precious time. For all I know, she’ll leave them there—wherever they are—all night. I can’t head back to Cypress knowing that they could be bound and gagged somewhere, for hours on end. And with their plums off-line, I have no way of contacting them. I make a split-second decision, grabbing the handle to the back door of the car and flinging it open, then climbing in. My heart’s racing with fear and increasing dread. I’ll buzz Pru and Ollie. Jago and Ansel too. They can search the campus while I go with Harlowe…wherever she plans on taking me.

  “Let’s go.” I slam the door shut. Then I glance up at the front seat, skeptical. “Do you even know how to drive this thing?” I examine the interior of the car. It’s seriously old, with cracked leather seats and none of the high-tech devices you’d find in any modern car. No view screen. No digital control panel. Just a bunch of old dials and knobs. Harlowe is busy revving the engine, her foot on the accelerator. An alarm bell goes off in my head, but I ignore it. This is blatantly and egregiously against Darkwood rules. Bringing this car here, driving it in the middle of the night. Where’d she even get it? And how is she flaunting it so brazenly, when the discovery of its existence here at school could get her expelled?

  “It’s my dad’s,” she offers in explanation. She presses the gas pedal, and the car lurches forward. Within seconds, we’re leaving campus, heading down the hill into the brush. “We road-tripped to school. He’s going to drive it home next week. He collects vintage cars,” she adds. “Don’t worry, he taught me how to drive when I was twelve. I used to practice all the time back home in Wyoming. You know, lots of wide, open spaces.” We’re gliding smoothly through the woods of the school. I can’t remember ever having ridden in an old-school, gas-powered car like this one, but I’d assumed that the ride would be jerky. It isn’t. And Harlowe is right. She isn’t a bad driver…

  I type out a buzz to Pru, Ollie, and the others, hoping Harlowe’s too busy driving to notice.

  Maude, Thea, and Pippa missing. Harlowe did this. LOOK FOR THEM.

  We’ve cleared campus now. Enough humoring her. I want to know what the hell’s going on. “Okay, Harlowe. I’ve played your little game. Now tell me where my friends are.”

  “Not yet,” she says as she easily steers us along a curve onto the highway. “I need time for them to stew a little. Besides, I never said I’d tell you where we’re going. You’ll find out when we get there. That was the deal.”

  “Why are you even doing this?” I press, catching Harlowe’s eyes in the rearview mirror. They look determined. Cold.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” she answers. “Ivy, Graham, and I have been waiting to be in the Ten—sorry, the Nine—since the day we first got to Darkwood. You weren’t going to initiate us and seemed to want to rob us of that critical milestone, so we decided to take matters into our own hands. With a twist, of course. One that emphasizes our core values.” She’s talking about clones. About how she doesn’t accept or want them here. Ivy and Graham must agree.

  Burning inside, I glance out the window, taking in our surroundings. We’re on a fairly deserted section of road. There isn’t much to see besides trees. A couple of barns. A lone diner.

  “They never did anything to you,” I seethe. “They don’t even know you. This is all Madison’s doing, isn’t it? She got to you. Convinced you to take on her family’s cause.”

  “Now I’m offended, Emmaline.” Harlowe narrows her eyes in the mirror. “You don’t think I can form my own opinions? Think for myself?”

  I don’t answer. There’s no point in getting deeper into this argument with her. I need to focus on my friends. A buzz comes in from Pru, saying she’s on it, but no luck yet. Maude, Thea, and Pippa aren’t in their rooms…or anywhere else in Cypres
s.

  Harlowe flicks on the radio. A popular song starts playing as she takes an exit onto a second highway, and I feel myself start to sweat. How far away is this place, anyway?

  “I hope you peed before you got in,” Harlowe remarks, seeming to settle in as she switches the station. “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us. I gassed up first,” she adds with a smirk. “We can go four, maybe five hours before we’ll have to stop. Sorry I didn’t bring snacks. No time.”

  What? I feel the hair on the back of my neck prickling.

  “Four or five hours?” My mind races, processing this new information. There’s no way she drove my friends four hours out of town. There wasn’t enough time between dinner and now. It’s impossible. “You played me,” I say, the realization hitting me hard. “You aren’t taking me to my friends at all, are you, Harlowe?” I spit out her name. “Let me guess. We’re just driving aimlessly, while my friends are locked up somewhere at school. Somewhere right under our noses.”

  Harlowe laughs. “Smart. Now I see how you got that number-five stratum.”

  I’m stuck in this car with her until she decides to stop or turn around. For all I know, she really does plan to drive all night while I stew in the back seat, worried sick about my friends. I don’t know what she has in store for them, but I get it now. This little road trip is my initiation. I can’t believe I fell for it.

  I scramble to make this all okay. To prove to Harlowe that she hasn’t won. Not yet. “They’ll wait,” I say, feeling increasingly desperate and trapped. “Maude, Theodora, and Pippa will wait until someone finds them. Or they’ll bust their way out.” I don’t mention their capabilities or the fact that they’re stronger than she could ever imagine.

  “Doesn’t matter to me if they’ve escaped,” she responds. “The damage has already been done.”

  “You can’t traumatize them or scare them into leaving Darkwood,” I answer angrily. “They’ve seen worse. Much, much worse!”