Copycat

by Hannah Jayne

  Addie slid her phone back into her pocket and stepped closer to Maya, lowering her voice. “It means that R. J. Rosen could be anyone. He could be a teacher here, or maybe even a student.”

  “He could be a she.”

  Addie’s eyes flashed and her jaw clenched.

  “I didn’t mean you!”

  “I know…”

  “But I’m still not sure what you’re getting at. Even if R. J. Rosen were a teacher here or something, what does it have to do with Lydia?”

  Addie shook her head. “What if…what if it isn’t a copycat? What if the person who killed Lydia and the person who is writing to me are the same person?”

  “R. J. Rosen?”

  “Someone who wants me to think he’s R. J. Rosen.”

  Thirty-One

  The girls walked to the cafeteria in stony silence. Addie’s head was spinning; she was trying to think of the emails, the story posts from R. J. Could it be possible that he was stalking her? Could he have killed Lydia? But why?

  None of it made sense.

  “I think we should leave,” Maya said, stopping in the cafeteria doorway. “Let’s go eat out front. You weren’t in the mood for anything cafeteria-gray anyway, were you?” She dug in her backpack. “I have gummy worms and Tic Tacs. Taste the rainbow.”

  “Neither of those sound a whole heck of a lot better than a gray cheeseburger.” Addie tried to reach around her. “Come on.”

  “Don’t go in there.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just—”

  Addie stepped into the cafeteria, and it was like stepping into a silent movie where she was the star—or the villain. Conversations broke. Utensils stopped in midair. Heads swung to face her. Eyes narrowed.

  Addie swallowed.

  “What’s…?”

  “Let’s just go.” Maya threaded her arm through Addie’s and gave her a yank.

  “Everyone was just staring at me. Everyone. Maya, they hate me.”

  “No.” Maya shook her head. “No.”

  Was it possible that the whole school could turn against her that quickly?

  “I just got in the car with Spencer…”

  Maya sucked in a breath. “It’s the blog too.”

  Addie’s face went ashen. “My blog?”

  “People saw the pictures, Addie. And I know you didn’t have anything to do with them, I do. I know you would never do something like that. But the pictures, and the last few stories, and now Spencer. People are just talking. But that’s all it is, stupid talk. It’ll blow over tomorrow, I know.”

  Addie bit back tears. “Will it? Lydia is dead.”

  “And you had nothing to do with that. My parents are going to find the real sicko who did this and lock him up, and everyone’s going to go on with their lives. I promise.”

  “People really think…”

  “Forget about it, Addie.”

  She swallowed hard, saliva that tasted like hot metal. “Why didn’t you tell me everyone hated me?”

  “They don’t. I don’t. It’ll blow over. Everyone will realize how ridiculous they’re being and things will be back to normal before you know it.”

  Addie stepped back from Maya, shaking her head. “No, no it won’t. Nothing is ever going to be the same again.”

  Addie left Maya behind in the hall, tears shaking her shoulders. She dialed her father once, twice, three times. He never answered, she never bothered to leave a message. When the bell rang, Addie did her best to melt into the ugly off-white paint in the hallway, but eyes continued to peer. No one pointed fingers—no one had to. The accusation was in their stares, in the way their eyes cut over her, through her. It was in the way that people she had spent years in school with suddenly gave her a wide berth, suddenly shifted away when she came through.

  After she spent fifth period in the bathroom, she called Louisa, begged her to pick her up. Before she did, Addie messaged Maya.

  AddieGaines:

  I’m going home. Can’t stand this.

  MayaPumpkinPYA:

  U didn’t do anything wrong!

  AddieGaines:

  Doesn’t matter. Everyone hates me.

  MayaPumpkinPYA:

  No1 does.

  Addie paused, sucked in a breath and glanced at the clock. It would take Louisa close to thirty minutes to reach her. Each minute felt like an hour.

  AddieGaines:

  R. J. wants me to post something else.

  MayaPumpkinPYA:

  But UR not going 2, right?

  AddieGaines:

  He said I’d be sorry.

  MayaPumpkinPYA:

  Fuck him. You’ll be sorry if you do.

  AddieGaines:

  I know, I won’t. Call me later?

  “I’ll do you one better.”

  Maya was standing in the junior hall ladies’ room, grinning at Addie.

  “How did you know where I was?”

  Maya dangled her phone. “Find My Friends app.”

  “That’s creepy.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll take it off when I have a boyfriend to inappropriately stalk. You okay? Need a hug?”

  “I will be and yes.”

  Maya grabbed Addie in a giant bear hug. “Can’t. Breathe,” she gasped. Maya released her and Addie stepped back, admiring her friend. “That coat looks way better on you than it did on me.”

  Maya beamed. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I think so too.” She pulled the hood up, the faux fur lining nearly engulfing her entire face.

  “I can’t even see you in there.”

  “I know, très mysterious, right?” She reached for Addie’s hand. “Come on.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m driving you home. My car’s fixed.”

  “We’ve got two more classes and I have a note.” Addie held up the hastily scribbled note she had obtained from the school nurse when she feigned cramps. “If you cut, your parents will put you in a holding cell.”

  Maya narrowed her eyes. “That was just rude. Well, at the very least, I’m walking out in solidarity with you.”

  “You can’t!”

  Maya held up a toilet seat painted in hot pink, bold black letters reading MR. H’s BATHROOM PASS stenciled across the seat. “I have a pass too. For a few minutes at least. Come on.”

  Addie and Maya walked out of Hawthorne High.

  “You know, for every cop in the county tromping through here, security is pretty lax.”

  Maya blinked. “My parents have better things to do. They’re trying to catch a killer.”

  Addie sucked in a breath. “I just can’t believe…”

  Maya squeezed Addie’s elbow.

  “It’s freezing out here.” Addie struggled to pull up the hood on the new-old jacket she got from Maya’s car.

  “You’re stuck on your backpack,” Maya said, pulling the pack off Addie’s shoulder and slinging it over her own. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

  “No, but at least if I’m at home I know…” What? That she was safe? “I don’t know. Hey, there’s Louisa.”

  Maya followed Addie across the street, waiting until Addie slid into Louisa’s car.

  “Love you, okay?”

  Maya blew her an air kiss. “Take care.”

  Louisa turned the key in the ignition, the engine giving a slight purr. She jutted her chin toward Maya and waved, then told Addie, “I almost couldn’t tell you two apart. Isn’t that your coat?”

  Addie nodded. “Maya’s borrowing it. Can we just go home? I don’t feel so well.”

  Louisa gave a curt nod and flicked her blinker on as Maya waved back and stepped into the crosswalk in front of Louisa’s car. The heat was blowing and Addie was already starting to sweat; she was wrestling w
ith her jacket so she didn’t see the car on the other side of the street.

  She didn’t hear its engine roar.

  She didn’t see it veer from the curb.

  She didn’t see it gain speed.

  But she saw it hit her best friend.

  Thirty-Two

  Everything fell into sickening slow motion. The car, the way its headlight clipped Maya. The sound of flesh hitting metal. Addie watched in horror as her friend was swept off her feet, one sneaker never making it off the ground.

  Maya went up, clawing at the air. Her hood flew off and Addie could see her face, could see the screwed-up, terrified twist of her lips as she opened her mouth. She looked like she was screaming, but there was only silence.

  Then Maya hit the car.

  Her hip, first.

  She spun, palms outstretched, eeking across the top of the car. And then she was gone.

  “Maya!” Addie screamed, clawing at the door, throwing her full body weight against it. She was desperate to get out, to get to Maya. Tears were running down her cheeks, snot and sweat running over her lips.

  “Maya, no!”

  She kicked the door open and that action seemed to vault the world into hyper speed. Sounds were suddenly deafening: the screech of the tires as the car cleared Maya and disappeared around a corner. The thundering of Addie’s own heart as it slammed against her rib cage. The ragged claw of her breath. She was running, her sneakers making flat slapping sounds against the pavement.

  “Maya, Maya, Maya…” she murmured.

  She wasn’t in the road.

  Addie scanned, her breath catching in her throat, her stomach going to liquid. Maya had been tossed clear across the street and was laying in the gutter, one shoe off, her body curled and bent like a question mark. Her backpack was gone, books scattered across the street, fluttering like grotesque butterflies in the snapping wind. Addie launched herself toward Maya.

  “Maya, Maya!”

  She crumpled to the ground but stopped short of touching her. Maya’s body was radiating a deep heat. Her eyes were half closed but her lips were moving, though no sound came out.

  “Maya, please, no, you have to stay with me.”

  Maya was sucking in air now, her chest rising and falling with a rapid speed that Addie wasn’t used to. Was that normal? Did Maya always breathe so fast? Was that good?

  She gingerly reached out to cradle Maya’s cheek, and Maya’s head lolled toward her, feeling heavy in her hand.

  “Don’t touch her!” Louisa was saying, moving across the street. “Don’t move her at all, you might hurt her worse.”

  But Addie had Maya’s head in both her hands, a trickle of blood from Maya’s nose rolling over her cheek and staining Addie’s fingers a brilliant, terrifying red.

  She had her best friend’s blood on her hands. Literally.

  “This is my fault,” Addie whispered, moving the fur-lined hood so it cradled Maya’s head better. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  Maya was still breathing, but her eyelids were fluttering like she was struggling to stay awake, stay alive.

  “Please, no,” Addie was saying, her whole body racked with a tremor that made her teeth chatter. “Please don’t die.”

  Maya’s lips puckered and sputtered. “I’m not going to die,” she said, her voice a raspy, choked whisper. “I’m not going to die, right?”

  Addie blinked away tears and shook her head. “No, no, you’re not going to die.” She could already see the bloom of bruises forming on Maya’s cheeks, around her eyes. She didn’t dare look any further, didn’t want to see a telltale pool of blood or a leg splayed at a weird angle.

  “You’re going to be fine,” Addie said, her teeth gritted so hard her jaw ached. “You’re not going to die. This wasn’t meant for you, Maya. It wasn’t.”

  “What are you talking—”

  “Shh.” Addie used the back of her hand to wipe away her tears, sniffed hard. “Don’t talk, just relax.”

  The tiniest hint of a smile played on Maya’s lips. “I’m in the gutter. You relax.”

  Addie couldn’t help the guffaw that came out of her mouth. Maya was going to be okay.

  “I’ve called 911,” Louisa was saying, holding up her phone as if Addie needed proof. “They’re on their way. Are you okay, Maya?”

  Maya closed her eyes, wincing. “Everything hurts.”

  Addie gingerly fingered the fabric covering Maya’s arm. It was streaked with mud from the street, caked with dirt. The white faux fur around Maya’s wrists was half gray, a thread of red running through it. Addie absently went to brush it away. She sucked on her teeth when she realized it was blood.

  “Oh God, you’re bleeding.”

  “Probably,” Maya moaned.

  Addie didn’t want to look at her best friend, but she had to meet her eyes. Maya’s lids fluttered open for a half second and Addie could see that her eyes were red-rimmed, glassy. When she closed her eyes again, a single tear fall.

  “Why did this happen?” she said in that low, choked whisper.

  “I don’t think it was supposed to happen to you,” Addie said, the words burning her tongue. “I think it was supposed to happen to me.”

  ***

  It seemed to take hours for the police and ambulance to show up, and Addie remained crouched by Maya’s side, her hand on Maya’s cheek, her other one stroking her arm, gently patting her hand.

  “You’re going to be fine, you’re going to be fine,” she kept repeating.

  Louisa paced behind her, wringing her hands and occasionally giving Addie soft pats on the shoulder, on her back.

  The ring of the Hawthorne bell was almost drowned out by the drone of the police sirens, the wail of the ambulance. Addie looked up, stunned as students filed out of the building, began populating the front lawn in front of the school, stopping, staring. Pointing. They were pointing.

  Thirty-Three

  Terror and humiliation thrummed through her. They were pointing. They were whispering.

  They probably thought I did this.

  The tears fell in a torrent, Addie’s shoulders rocking with each sob.

  You did do this.

  R. J. Rosen said she needed to post “or else.”

  Addie looked over Maya, her form crumpled, the rapid rise and fall of her chest a slow plod. Was this “or else”?

  Her whole body went cold, the world fish-eyeing as her knees buckled. She saw the flash, heard the squeal of the ambulance slamming to a stop. She heard car doors slamming, people yelling, feet slamming against concrete. Addie’s knees buckled. Her shoulder hit the concrete first, sending white-hot flashes of pain up her arms, across her back, but it felt good to ache, felt good to hurt. Her friend was lying in a heap and she was responsible. Addie’s hands slammed against the street next, pebbles and the broken asphalt slicing through the flesh on her palms. She winced but relished the fiery heat of skin tearing, the sticky feeling of blood seeping across her skin. She needed it.

  “Addie! Are you okay?”

  She felt Louisa gather her up, shaking her gently and patting her cheeks.

  “Do you need assistance here?” Addie blinked up at a navy-blue-clad paramedic, his plastic kit swinging by his side.

  “Maya,” she whispered. “You need to get to Maya.” She blinked in the streak of sunlight, pointed toward Maya.

  “She’s already being attended to.”

  Addie squinted and saw that a team of paramedics were carefully but quickly putting a neck brace on Maya, then sliding her onto a board. Addie tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but the tears were already at her eyes. “Is she going to be okay?”

  The paramedic nodded. “We don’t know much, but she’s alert and talking. That’s always a good sign.”

  “Addie!”

  Addie sat up, let Louisa pull
her to her feet. Detective Garcia and Chief Garcia arrived in separate cars, the detective stepping back as the paramedics moved Maya into the back of the ambulance.

  “What happened?”

  Addie started to heave. She cried big, rollicking cries until they strangled her, until her throat ached.

  Detective Garcia leaned down to her, his big hands on her arms. His eyes were wide, laser focused, but there was a kindness in them. “Slow down. Can you tell me anything?”

  “A car. I was leaving school because I didn’t feel well and Maya was just walking with me. She…Louisa was here waiting to pick me up and I got in her car. Then Maya crossed the street and…”

  The accident replayed again in her head.

  But it wasn’t an accident.

  Someone meant to hit Maya. Someone knew exactly what they were going to do.

  No.

  They didn’t mean to hit Maya.

  They meant to hit her.

  “The car came out of nowhere and hit her. They didn’t even stop—they didn’t even slow down.”

  The tears were soaking the collar of her shirt, leaving an itchy trail on her neck.

  “What did the car look like? Do you remember?”

  Addie shook her head miserably, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her jaw. She should know this. She saw it, she saw every inch of ground the car covered. She heard the sickening thud…

  “Blue, maybe? Or black? I—I don’t remember. It happened so fast. Maybe Louisa remembers?”

  Louisa swallowed slowly and leaned into the Detective, muttering a few words that sounded like gibberish to Addie.

  “Are you okay, Addison?”

  It was Maya’s mother then, jogging over. She was wearing her uniform, the walkie-talkie clamped to her shoulder barking with commands and numbers that Addie didn’t understand.

  “She doesn’t know what the car looked like,” Detective Garcia told his wife. His voice was even, but Addie could feel the frustration rolling off him.

  “That’s okay. That’s okay, it’s a lot to think about right now. First of all, let’s get you out of the street.”

  Addie let the Garcias lead her to the curb, then sank down. “You shouldn’t be here with me. You should be with Maya. Is she…is she…” Addie couldn’t say it. She wouldn’t. The paramedic had said that Maya was alert, was talking, that that was a “good sign.” But Addie didn’t believe anything anymore.