by Jill Cooper
What can I say? The school is an old, almost castle-looking building, and there are so many kids around that the green landscape seems to be hiding behind them. In other words, I don’t want to get out of the car. I’m ready to turn around and have Mom drive us back to Hamilton Springs. I already miss my public school.
“Have a nice day, Jess,” Mom says gently, like she thinks I might break. She knows me pretty well. I can’t hold her up on her first day at her new job, though. She needs to make a good impression, and I get that.
I pop open the car door and gulp at how tall the building is. “You’re sure about this, right?”
Mom nods, her sunglasses balancing on her head. She looks professional in her blue skirt and white blouse. Working for the city administration is a big deal and gets her vacations, sick time, and maybe even a pension. She needs this. We need it. Still, I don’t want to get out of the car.
I want to go home, climb under a blanket, and watch Netflix until the next decade.
“What if no one likes me?” It jumps out of my mouth before I can stop it. God, I sound like such a kid. I’m close to being an adult. How can I still feel so needy all the time?
Her lips pucker in a pout for a moment, and she rubs the ends of my hair through her fingers. “Jess, you’re a funny, kind girl. People will love you if you give them a chance. You’re just nervous about a new school. It’s normal. When you feel nervous, just smile and shake it off. You’re going to do great.” She kisses my cheek.
“Thanks, Mom.” I don’t trust my voice over a whisper.
“I can’t wait to hear all about it tonight, but I’m going to be late for work if we don’t hurry this up.”
“You can’t be late on your first day!” I kiss her cheek and pop the door open, grab my backpack, step onto the sidewalk and glance up at the imposing castle. Going to school here isn’t just intimidating. There’s something macabre about this building and the gargoyles up on the roof. It’s kind of like stepping into one of those gothic novels I love so much.
Still, I never wanted to be in one of those novels.
“Bye!” Mom waves to me as she drives off.
I wave, too, but I resist blowing her a kiss. I remember blowing her a kiss from kindergarten until the sixth grade. After that, I was too grown-up—or at least too serious. I kind of wish I still could.
Taking a deep breath, I fall in line behind some other students headed toward the solid oak doors. They’re twice as tall as I am. One of the kids glances back at me and does a double-take. I recognize him from the night before at the restaurant. Smoldering blue eyes, wavy black hair, and a jawline you’d never forget. Was it possible to have a crush on someone you just met?
“Hi,” I bite my lip and sound impossibly shy. Could I be any more awkward? Who starts a conversation like that? I’m so lame I make the chess club seem cool.
We step into the hallowed halls. The inside is somehow even more impressive than the outside. The floors are a rich brown and gold that shines with brilliance, and the archways are higher than I can imagine. Even filled with students, it feels large and empty. I’m so overwhelmed by it all, I stop dead center and watch the cute boy walk out of sight.
He glances back and gives me a smirk that borders on friendly, and I wish I could catch up to him, except I have to find the headmaster’s office.
I jolt as someone plows into me from behind.
“Uh, hello?” she says. “Is there a traffic light up ahead I don’t know about?”
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t sure what to do.” Cringing, I turn around.
The girl has long brown hair with two plaits on one side of her head, and the hair in the back goes free. Thanks to the way she gapes at me, I can see the studded earring through her tongue. Her backpack is painted blue and purple with the word Maxx in bold printing. “Whoa,” she whispers. “Trippy.”
Could she be talking to me? What could possibly be trippy about me? I feel my face flush brighter than a tomato, and I wish I could escape down a rabbit hole and pretend none of this is happening. “I’ll stay out of your way next time.” I rush off in the other direction.
“Wait!” the girl calls, but I pretend I can’t hear her. I wish I couldn’t.
Up ahead, there’s a sign that says Headmaster’s Office, indicating down the hall. Well, can’t say they aren’t organized. At the end of that short corridor is a set of white French doors. I slow down as I approach and knock.
“Enter!”
I blow out an anxious sigh—here goes nothing.
The room is lit brighter and seems more sterile than the rest of the school corridors. A friendly looking receptionist in a tight sweater greets me with a smile from behind her white desk. Her hair is set just right at her shoulders, and her makeup gives her flawless porcelain-looking skin with bright ruby lips. “How can I…?” Her voice trails off, and her mouth falls open.
My jaw tenses. Do I have a sign above my head about my juvey record or something? “Why does everyone keep looking at me like that?” I blurt without meaning to.
“Are you related?”
I blink. “Related to who?” We’re the only two people in the room. Her question brings me nothing but confusion.
She points at the glass case behind me that takes up most of the rear wall. With trepidation, I approach it. It appears to hold a shrine of some sort. There are two trophies, a homecoming queen bodice ribbon, and pictures of a ceremony from long ago. The banner reads Amber Chetwood 2003.
My heart drops. Except for a small difference in her nose, she looks…
The homecoming queen is holding hands with, I assume, the homecoming king. They’re smiling at one another with stardust in their eyes, clearly in love and happy.
I touch my cheek. The hair, her smile, everything is identical. Everything. I have this girl’s face, whoever she is. I can barely swallow as I lean forward and put my hand on the glass.
The receptionist’s chair rolls back as she stands. “She disappeared right after homecoming seventeen years ago. Her body washed up against the rocks. We… It was a scandal, such a scandal. The town was never the same after that.”
I press my lips together, and my heartbeat skips.
I have a dead girl’s face.
Chapter Four
Gregory Academy, Bay Harbor
Jessica: September 7th, 2020
I can’t stop staring at the dead girl’s face. The receptionist says her name was Amber Chetwood, and I feel a desperate need to find out more. Who was she? Why am I the spitting image of her? It would make sense if we were related but I never met or heard of this girl until right now. I’ve always been big on conspiracy theories, and I wonder if that’s why I’m here at Gregory. Is this what I’m here to discover? I have to admit, a reason makes moving to this nowhere town feel a little nicer.
Is she the girl I saw in the window? Her crown… How could I have seen it or her? Unless she’s…
A ghost? Yeah, right. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I know I saw her.
I swallow hard and try to act normal. Difficult as it is when you’re me.
Headmaster Marcus Davis gets me settled in his office before grabbing me a cup of tea. I’ve had a few conversations with him since moving to town. He gave me a private tour of the school, explained my scholarship program to me, and says he’s taking me under his wing. With my dad AWOL, it’s nice to feel like someone cares.
He’s a slender man with salt and pepper hair. We sit in two oversized brown chairs in front of a gas fireplace. I stare at the dancing flame as he places two sugar cubes in my teacup, stirs, and then hands it to me. “The similarity between you two is uncanny, almost eerie.”
Almost? I sip my tea.
“Did they catch them? I mean, do they know who…?”
“Killed her?” Mr. Davis shakes his head. “The investigation went on for years. The Chetwood family was one of stature in those days. Respected, rich, and they wanted it solved quickly, as did the Sinclairs—the boy in the pi
cture is Jackson, their son. Both of their families are well-to-do. Neither of them wanted to see the investigation go on so long.”
“So, no suspects?” My heart sinks at the prospect that a homecoming queen could be killed the day she was crowned, and the police could find nothing.
“I’m afraid not.” His jaw edges out. “A word of caution, Ms. Chase. Bay Harbor likes to keep its secrets buried. If I were you, I’d differentiate myself immediately from Amber. Don’t ask questions. Don’t talk about it. Let people see it as a coincidence and let the dead lie. No good will come of digging up long-buried secrets.”
I place my teacup down on my saucer. “Thank you for the word of warning, Mr. Davis.”
“And you’re sure you’re not related?”
I shook my head. “Trust me, if we were, I’m sure this story would be repeated at Grandma’s table every Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve! It’s just a….coincidence.” As I say it, I touch my face. “And if I…saw her in a window? Would you tell people that?”
“Then another word of advice, lay low. Don’t tell anyone anything. Pretend like Amber Chetwood never existed.” Mr. Davis forces a polite smile. “Why don’t we talk about your extracurricular interests? Maybe I can point you in the direction of a few afterschool clubs that might interest you.”
Afterschool clubs are the last thing on my mind, but maybe that’s the point. I need to try new things if I’m going to start a new life. My past extracurricular activities involved joy riding in strangers’ cars and getting arrested.
Not exactly the kind of thing that looks great on a college application.
I get through the first four periods before moving on to lunch. The cafeteria is pretty standard except for the giant columns through the room and the chairs that are actually comfortable. The meatloaf is better than your standard-issue food and comes second only to my mother’s.
I sit at a table by myself, and I’m okay with that. I use my phone to check into Amber Chetwood’s death. What Mr. Davis told me checks out. Amber went missing along with her car, and a search for her came up empty until her body washed up along the rocks of Princeton Boating Country Club.
Scary and sad. It should’ve been the happiest day of her life.
A tray slides onto the table in front of me. I close my notebook and look up with surprise. It’s that girl Maxx from earlier that day. “Hey,” I tap my pencil on the outside of my notebook. “You looking for a place to sit?”
“Not anymore.” Maxx sits down and picks up her fork. “I’m—”
“Maxx. It’s on your bag.”
She nods. “Well, you’re quick with the reading and everything. Guess you’re literate, which puts you up a step or two from the usual crowd.” She smirks, and I realize it’s her way of joking. “I wanted to say sorry about this morning. I felt bad for staring. It’s just, you look exactly like—”
I push my tray of food back. “I figured that out. Everyone keeps staring. Nothing can shut a conversation down faster than this face. Story of my life except there’s a different reason here.”
Maxx leans on her elbow. “Yeah, Eerie, no offense. I mean, it’s not your fault you look like her. The girl from the urban legend. The homecoming queen.” Maxx raises her eyebrows, and her complexion pales.
“It’s not really an urban legend if it actually happened.”
“Are you—”
“We’re not related.” I shift in my seat and want to change the subject. A few hours in and I’m already tired of answering that question.
Maxx shrugs. “They say she haunts these halls. Some say if you return to the rocks where she died, and the ocean is quiet, you’ll hear her crying, and you’ll see her ghostly form falling off the cliffs over and over again.” She picks up her soda can and sips it.
“Is that all they say?” I cross my arms.
“Depends who you talk to, but this town is filled with rich folk, and they don’t like to talk about their business. Amber’s disappearance shined a bright light on all of their underhanded deals. Nobody wanted to talk about it. The other half of this town are boaters, fishermen, the types of people who were born out of superstition. If you go around with that face…”
I raise an eyebrow. “Like I have a choice?”
Maxx leans back and shrugs. “I’d dye my hair or cut it. Do something that makes you stick out from Amber if you don’t want to cause a city-wide incident. Unless, of course, you do, which would be cool.” She leans across the table and stares at me as if I’m going to spring up and admit that’s exactly what it is I want to do.
Maxx might help me, but I’m not ready to show my hand just yet. “Hey, I’m going to need someone to help catch me up. You have any notes from the first few days of school I missed?”
“Some. I’m not a great notetaker, but if you want to stop by the lab—tech lab—after school, I can give you what I have.”
“That’d be great.”
“What’s your name?” Maxx asks.
“Oh.” Where was my head? “Jessica. You can call me Jess. Everyone does.”
“Well, Jess, it’s nice to meet you.” Maxx extends her hand. “I think you’re going to make waves. Perfect place for it. Bay Harbor has a hanger shoved up its ass most of the time. It’ll be cool to see what you do.”
“I don’t think I’m going to do anything.” Pretty much a lie, but I don’t want word to get back to the headmaster about what I plan. Maxx seems like my type of girl, but I can’t trust her just yet.
Maxx laughs and sips her soda. “The good thing about a face like yours, you don’t need to do anything. We can just sit back and watch it all explode around us.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I get the feeling she might be using me just to get a front-row seat, but I can’t say I mind. I might end up using her, too.
I end up with more homework than I expect. The work doesn’t seem hard, there’s just a lot of it. I’m anxious for the bell to ring in last period—history. The professor is drier than my mom’s baked salmon, and he speaks in a monotone voice that’s enough to put me to sleep. When the bell finally rings, I zip up my backpack, which is so heavy it feels like it has boulders in it.
A group of students snicker as they walk past my desk, whispering to each other. This is going to get old fast. I’m already annoyed by the stares and whispers. I haven’t even made it through the first day—yet. I heave my backpack onto my shoulder and feel someone staring at the back of my head.
“Hey,” a boy rushes up to me. It’s naturally the dark-haired boy from earlier in the day.
“Let me guess,” I say dryly and with an edge of sarcasm. “I look like some dead beauty queen, and you want to know if I’m related to her, or if I’m a ghost or a bad omen of things to come.” I widen my eyes and speak as dramatic as possible. Plus, I give him jazz hands, just to sweeten the deal.
He holds his hands up. “Whoa, okay. I’m guessing you’ve heard this a lot.”
“All day long. So, let me catch you up. My name’s Jessica. I’m new to town. I hadn’t even heard of Amber until today, sorry to disappoint. I am sad she’s dead. Traumatic. But whatever. It has nothing to do with me.”
He nods. “Was traumatic for Dead Chetwood. For the town, it’s been a crazy amount of entertainment.”
I stop dead in my tracks. “That’s a horrible way to put it.”
He shrugs. “I doubt she’s going to care anymore. Name’s Ryan Alistair.” His eyes intensify, and I get the feeling he gives this look to a lot of girls.
“Nice to meet you.” Though, that remains to be seen, no matter how easy he is on the eyes.
“Likewise.” He smirks. “I’m having a party tomorrow night for some of the seniors. Be great if you’d stop by, too. I can introduce you to some key people you should know.” From how he smiles, I get the feeling that he thinks he’s doing me a favor. What an egotistical piece of work.
I can’t help a burst of laughter. His smile drops fast, and I think I’ve wounded his pride. “Sorry. Sure,
I’d love to come.” I didn’t realize his ego was that fragile.
“Great. Swing by the Princeton Boat Country club after seven.”
The country club? How lucky was I?
“Sure, sounds great.”
I stop at the door to the lab. Ryan sprints down the hall and gives some guy a high five on his way. Now that he’s not standing right beside me, I melt on the inside. He’s equal parts dreamy and off-putting, just enough to keep me interested.
“Ryan Alistair, huh?” Maxx peers out of the lab. “I gotta say, I thought you’d be more unique than to fall for his charm. At least you made a full day. I’ve seen some girl’s cave before lunch.”
“Why? What’s wrong with him?” I turn into the lab.
Maxx snorts. “Nothing, if you like rich assholes.”
My nose wrinkles up. “Isn’t this place filled with rich assholes?”
“Good point. Present company excluded, I hope.”
I follow Maxx to a desk. She hands me the copies of her notes she ran off the printer. I flip through them. “Thanks, this is going to help.”
“Sure.” Maxx puts her hands in her pockets. “About Ryan, just be careful about the Alistairs. They’re one of the richest families in town and considered a founding family. They’ll do anything to stay noticed. Especially when it comes to keeping their rivalry going with the Sinclairs.”
“Let me guess. They’re rich, too.”
Maxx nods. “But I’ll be at the party tomorrow night just like every other sap that goes to this school. Just be careful.”
Careful? It’s my middle name.
Chapter Five: Amber 2003
August 31st
“It’s the last day of summer!”
My friends scream, and we hold our bottles of beer in the air with laughter. I’ve already had a little too much, but when you’re at the beach, hanging around a bonfire, things happen.
Sometimes things I wish hadn’t.
