The Pretenders

by Rebecca Hanover

  “Emma?” Oliver asks me, his face turned up to the sun.

  “Yeah?” I answer back, my pulse racing.

  “The last thing I want to do right now is crack a book, but you were right,” he sighs. I feel my heartbeat start to slow. Enough that I’m even capable of making a joke.

  “What did you just say?” I tease. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “You were right!” he laughs. Then he groans. “If I don’t get up now and start doing some of my homework, I may not graduate from this place till I’m forty.”

  I let out a breath. “Then you’d better start. Come on, I’ll walk you back to the dorms.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Similars on the shore of the lake, laughing as they dive back into the water. I’m sure they’re making a concerted effort not to stay under the water for too long; they wouldn’t want anyone else to see what they’re capable of, how long they can hold their breath. The water’s cold, but not so cold it would raise too many eyebrows if anyone saw them. This is their last chance to do this. Any later in the year, and they’d call too much attention to themselves.

  As Ollie and I walk back up the grassy lawn, I feel a pang deep in my gut. We’ve all enjoyed a beautiful afternoon—picnicking, chatting, laughing. Levi should be there on that shore, swimming with the others. I feel so much guilt at the thought of any of us having fun, without him.

  As we round the bend, approaching main campus, I notice there’s an unusual grouping of kids at the entrance to the main house. They’re standing in a line that stretches all the way around the building. Probably fifty teens or more stand in a queue, waiting—for what?

  I squint to get a good look at what’s happening at the front of the line, and I see that Archer is sitting behind a table, with groupies swarming around him. The kids in line are waiting to get Archer’s autograph and take a photo with him.

  “Okay, this has seriously gotten out of hand,” I say to Ollie. Why are the teachers letting this go on? I’d give this five minutes before Principal Fleischer arrives to break it up. As we approach the line, I hear a couple of kids saying they just got off the train from New York. When they heard Archer was going to be signing autographs, they skipped school to be here.

  “I don’t think all these kids even go to Darkwood,” Ollie says. “And some look really old.” He’s right; a couple of them look like they could be in their twenties.

  I approach a girl at the back of the line. “Do you go here?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head. “No, why?”

  “Where’d you hear about this, anyway?” I press.

  “The feeds. Where else?” She looks at me like I’m an idiot.

  There’s a commotion in the line, and Ollie and I turn to see two kids fighting each other. One is saying that the other one cut him off. The accused kid gets up in the other one’s face and threatens to punch him.

  “So this is what happens when the headmaster is rushed off to the ER,” I muse. “But where’s Principal Fleischer?” There’s no way she’d allow this.

  “Maybe she’s at the hospital with Ransom,” Ollie suggests. “From the look of things, there aren’t any teachers around.”

  He’s right. I don’t see any of the teachers who usually sprinkle the grounds on the weekends, keeping students in line. Is that how all these kids got on campus? Is someone stationed at the gate, temporarily holding it open?

  “You need to study,” I tell Ollie, steering him away from the spectacle of Archer and his fans, toward the dorms. “I won’t let you fall behind on my watch. NYU is waiting for you,” I add. “Film school’s been your dream since you were ten and you made your first documentary about the fourth-grade snack program.”

  “I still can’t believe they switched out Oreos for Ritz Crackers. But dreams change, don’t they? I don’t know if my parents want me so far from home. I don’t know if I want to be so far from home. And…you,” he adds quietly. My heart skips about twelve beats. Is he going to say something now, about his feelings for me? “Have you thought about where you’re gonna apply? Because I’m thinking maybe California’s my best bet. You know, USC. I’d only be a one-hour plane ride from my parents…”

  I breathe out, relieved he’s still talking about colleges and nothing more…personal. Still, I don’t know how to answer him. Up until the start of school, college was the absolute last thing on my mind. Now, I have thought about it a little, if only because it’s something I simply can’t avoid. Oxford is on my list, and so are a dozen schools all over the country. I know Oxford’s a long shot. From what I’ve read online, the university doesn’t accept many American students straight out of high school, since the British and U.S. curricula are so different. Of course, the Similars will have no trouble getting into any college they choose, thanks to Gravelle’s rigorous academics on Castor Island.

  We round a corner, heading down the narrow path that will take us back to our dorms. Someone’s in our way, though—or two someones, I should say. They’re so entangled in each other, hooking up under an awning of low-hanging tree branches, that they’re completely oblivious to us, and the fact that we need to walk past them. It’s not a wide walkway, and there are trees on either side. We have no place to go.

  “Ahem,” I say, feeling awkward, not only because we’re interrupting their heated moment, but also because I’m all too aware of Ollie next to me, and the fact he never got a chance to tell me about his feelings. There’s no way he’s watching these two and not thinking about…whatever it was he was planning to say to me last night, at the dance.

  The couple doesn’t budge or make any sign that they’ve heard me. They continue kissing, getting more enmeshed in each other. I raise an eyebrow at Ollie.

  “We could go around the back way?” he whispers.

  Before I can answer, the girl whisks her shirt off and throws it into the bushes. The boy pushes the girl up against a tree trunk, and I catch a glimpse of her coppery hair and realize who she is: Tessa Leroy. How did I not realize it before? That’s her purple bomber jacket on the ground, next to her patent leather booties.

  She’s in only her bra now—a lacy purple one that’s a shade darker than her jacket. She and the boy are going at it, all arms and legs and touching in all the places, and I wonder where this is coming from. Maybe she’s been feeling a lot of pent-up sexual frustration or something, since she’s been at Creekside all this time.

  “Somehow I imagined the treatment facility would make her really zen,” I whisper to Ollie. “Guess I was wrong.”

  “Isn’t that Henry Blackstone?” Ollie’s nudging me in the side, indicating the boy. I hear moaning, and I cringe, turning away from them. We have got to get out of here.

  “Wait.” I stop in my tracks. “You mean the kid who asked Theodora out like five times last year?” I rack my brain to remember.

  “I guess. I wasn’t here for that. But in our second year, Henry was pretty vocal about wanting to date Tessa. She repeatedly turned him down,” Ollie remarks.

  That sounds right. I vaguely recall Tessa telling Madison and Jake she’d rather eat nails than go out with Henry. What changed? Why would she suddenly want to hook up with Henry, of all people? Did he get hot over the summer? It’s possible…

  “Let’s go.” I grab Ollie’s hand. We’ll have to take the long route.

  We turn and leave, right when it seems these two are about to get even more into each other. I think I hear them collapsing on the ground in a sweaty, hormone-fueled heap. I can’t get out of there fast enough.

  I try to make small talk with Ollie the rest of the way to the dorms, hoping I can get his mind off of what we both just saw, but it’s a struggle. Before, we would have just laughed off a scene like that. Now, it feels loaded.

  It feels like eons later, but we finally make it to the door of Nightshade, Ollie’s dorm. “Go be brilliant. I’ll meet up with you
later,” I say, almost shoving him through the door. “Go, go, go!”

  Ollie salutes me before heading inside. I turn in the other direction and start walking. That was a close call. I’m surprised he didn’t say anything about his feelings. I need air. I don’t know how long I can do this, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  I head the other way from the dorms, making sure to avoid that same shady path. I’m not looking where I’m going, and I’ve stumbled up to the soccer field, where a rowdy Saturday practice is in session. I’m not really following the players as they scurry over the grass, hunting the ball down. But as I gaze over them, vaguely noting the athletic shorts and T-shirts they wear with their cleats and soccer socks, I notice Jake. He’s running around like he didn’t just completely luck out, not getting into trouble for that stunt with the goat. If Ransom hadn’t collapsed, Jake would be in detention right now, paying for his crimes.

  Jake’s got the ball now, and he’s kicking it lazily between his legs while another student—it looks like Willa, from the Nine—blows on a whistle, trying to get her team to pay attention.

  “Coach Young isn’t here today, so you’re all gonna listen to me!” Willa shouts at her teammates through a megaphone. I’m not surprised Willa’s a soccer star; she’s athletic and elegant, with an easy confidence that radiates through everything she does. Knowing what I do—that she refused to take part in Harlowe’s reverse hazing ritual—makes me like her all the more.

  Jake’s not listening to her, though. He’s goofing off with a couple of other kids, passing the ball and then tackling one of the other guys for fun.

  “I said, I’m in charge!” Willa directs this comment pointedly to Jake, who continues to ignore her. “I’m gonna count down from five, Jake Choate. And if you’re still acting like an utter child, you’ll be banned from the field for twenty-four hours. Five. Four, three, two…one!” Jake’s lying on the grass, cracking up at something one of the other kids has said. Willa waltzes straight up to him, grabs him by the shirt, yanks him to his feet, and starts marching him to the edge of the field.

  “What the hell?” Jake protests. “It was a joke! Diaz and Cooper weren’t listening, either.”

  Jake stops talking when he looks up to find himself face-to-face with his exact DNA copy.

  It’s Jago. And Jago is looking really pissed. Willa shoves Jake on the grass.

  “Good,” Willa says, nodding at Jago. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him, Jago.” She turns back to the field, leaving him there with his Similar.

  But wait. Wasn’t Jago just swimming in the lake, in his clothes? This Jago isn’t wet, not even his hair. Plus, he’s wearing pajamas—flannel ones that look expensive and fancy. I doubt Jago owns pajamas like this. They’re too pretentious. I’m so confused. If this isn’t Jago, then who is he? Which one of these people is the real Jake? And who is the other one?

  “I need to talk to you,” the pajama-clad Jake is saying to the one in soccer gear. “Now.”

  “So talk,” soccer Jake answers.

  “Some kids saw you passing out beers to a bunch of first years last night behind the dining hall,” Jake says, with intensity. If this is the Jake Choate I know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so worked up about anything in his life.

  “So?”

  “So, you could have gotten me in major trouble if a teacher had seen you!”

  “Good thing they didn’t, then.” Soccer Jake shrugs.

  “That’s totally not what I had in mind when I let you—”

  “Let me?” soccer Jake says. “You didn’t let me, man. You’re not my boss.”

  “You can’t do stuff like that,” pajama Jake goes on, impassioned. “It was fine when you wanted to check out my classes. But now you’re gonna get me in serious trouble. Bringing that goat into the school? Getting me banned from the soccer field? And now this thing with the beer? You could ruin my chances to play soccer at UCLA!”

  Pajama Jake yanks soccer Jake by the arm so soccer Jake is forced to follow him down the path to the athletic building. My head’s spinning as I watch them go. That definitely is not Jago… It’s like it was two Jakes. But how can that even be?

  I feel like maybe I’m losing my mind. I can hear people’s thoughts. I just saw two Jake Choates. Feeling like something is seriously off, maybe with me, I race out of there. I can’t deny something’s really out of whack with the whole school this weekend. Maybe it’s the cycle of the moon. It’s not only Tessa’s hookup with Henry, or Archer’s autographing booth. Who the hell was Jake talking to? I casually bring it up to Jago later, not wanting to alarm him. Did he happen to run back to his room, dry off, and quickly change into pajamas after diving into Dark Lake? He gives me a strange look and assures me that he didn’t. So I make up a lame excuse about thinking I saw him on the main quad, but it must have been Jake.

  I find my friends at dinner and slide into a spot between Ansel and Maude. I’m about to launch into the story of my strange double-Jake sighting, but before I get the chance, a voice booms over the loudspeaker.

  “Attention, everyone. I have an important announcement.” I look to my friends, confused. Who’s talking? It doesn’t sound like a teacher. The voice sounds like a student’s. “This is Tessa Leroy. You may have noticed the lack of teachers on campus today.”

  It’s true; I don’t think I’ve seen a single teacher today. That’s probably why no one broke up Archer’s autograph session. And didn’t Willa say she was filling in for Coach Young? I figured Fleischer was with Ransom… But where are the others? Dinner is automated—prepared off campus and loaded onto our trays by bots—so it’s not like there’s any cafeteria staff to ask. The more I think about it, the stranger it seems that we haven’t seen anyone over the age of eighteen all day.

  “We’re currently looking into it, since we’re as concerned as all of you,” Tessa goes on.

  “Who’s we?” I ask Maude. She shakes her head.

  “Article ten, section four of the Darkwood handbook stipulates that the oldest person on campus should lead in an emergency situation,” Tessa asserts. “Which means I’ll be taking on an authority role until the teachers return. We’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for this. Until we find out what that is, please, do not panic. Finish your dinners, return to your dorm rooms, and hopefully by morning, we’ll know what happened to our beloved educators.”

  “Tessa forgot one action item,” says a second voice that chimes in over the loudspeaker. It’s Archer. “While we sit tight and wait for our teachers to return, don’t forget to have as much fun as you possibly can.”

  The room erupts in laughter and cheers.

  “Ansel,” I say, my wheels spinning, “has anything else been posted on Archer’s social media accounts? Since that picture from Bangkok?”

  “No,” he says quickly, checking his plum. “Why?”

  “I saw something earlier,” I tell my friends under my breath, and they huddle in close to hear me. “It was Jake. Only he was with…another Jake. Ollie, after you and I walked back to the dorms this afternoon,” I go on, “and you left to study, I saw Jake talking to a Jake clone. Someone who looked exactly like him. Only…it wasn’t Jago. Because Jago, you were swimming in the lake, right?”

  “Yeah,” Jago says, shooting Maude a look. She shrugs.

  “He was wearing pajamas. In the middle of the day. And this guy and Jake were arguing. Jake was saying that this other Jake was going to get him into loads of trouble. And then they left. And I didn’t think I could follow them without them knowing…”

  “You’re saying there’s another Jake clone on campus right now?” Pippa asks, incredulous.

  “Either that, or I’m hallucinating,” I tell them.

  “So where is this other Jake now?” Pru asks, looking as confused as I feel.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But things have been super weird
since the dance last night. Archer with that over-the-top speech, and Jake with his goat… Ransom collapsing… And now, the teachers are gone? What if…”

  I pause, collecting my thoughts.

  “What?” Pru presses.

  I lean in closer, whispering. “What if Tessa, and Archer, and Jake…aren’t Tessa, Archer, and Jake? What if the guy who let that goat loose is the other Jake clone I saw. What if—Ansel, what happens if you try calling Archer?”

  Ansel immediately dials on his plum. “It’s ringing.” He ends the call. “Voicemail.”

  “Beach party!” someone yells, and we all turn to see a couple of kids standing on tables, addressing the student body. “Bring sodas and anything else you can get your hands on. The party started ten minutes ago!” they shout.

  Everyone in the dining hall starts cheering as dinner breaks up, and Pru, Ollie, the Similars, and I make our way outside into the warm night. The “party” on the shore of the lake is already in full swing. That was fast.

  “Do you think the teachers are in danger?” Pru asks. “I mean, where are they? They can’t all be at the hospital with Ransom, can they?”

  “Shouldn’t we tell someone?” Pippa asks, speaking up over the loud, electronic music that’s pumping through outdoor speakers. The party’s growing larger, and louder, with each passing minute. I shiver in the warm air with an eerie sense of something being wrong, but not knowing what it is. Meanwhile, the rest of Darkwood is so oblivious, they’re throwing the party of the century.

  We wander over to the shore of the lake. Kids are dancing, some are drinking from flasks and others straight from vodka bottles, and there’s a bonfire going. A kid I recognize from Pru’s crew team is keeping watch over the lake from a makeshift lifeguard tower. Smart, given that these kids might get out of control…