“You can’t leave. If we quit the Ten…”
“We’ll rank in last place,” I supply.
“And I’ll lose my scholarship,” Pru says quietly. “I’ll go on academic probation if my rank falls to the bottom. And my mom, she’s counting on me graduating. A diploma from Darkwood will make her so proud. My dad too… I want to give her that. You know, in case…”
She dies. That’s what Pru can’t bring herself to say. My heart sinks. “How’d you know I was thinking about leaving?”
“I consider myself an Emmaline expert.”
“We can’t do what Madison asked us. We can’t bring her the name of a student we want to see fail.”
“Then we won’t. We’ll figure something else out. But if we quit—Madison wins.” Pru squeezes my hand, then moves off to her side of our room to get ready for bed, leaving me with my thoughts.
I dig in my backpack for the orange prescription tube, the one that holds the pharmas. I hurry to the bathroom, knowing I won’t be able to take back what I’m about to do. When I’m done, I won’t be able to escape Oliver—or Levi.
But if I’m going to make it through junior year and this Ten business alive, I can’t let my guard down. Or end up at the bottom of Dark Lake, dead this time at Madison’s hand. I wouldn’t put it past her. I pop the cap off the tube, tilting it toward the toilet bowl. The pills drop into the shallow water, and I flush the suckers down.
Then I step into the shower, letting the heat warm and calm me. After I dry off, I slip on flannel pajama pants and my favorite T-shirt that Oliver gave me, which says “Instant Yo-Yo,” and I climb into bed, making sure not to wake Pru, who’s already snoring. It’s no shock when sleep eludes me. It’s hard to stop the never-ending wave of thoughts. About Oliver. About Levi…their twin faces now interchangeable in my mind. Levi has begun to invade my precious memories of Ollie. The ones I rely on for comfort. Those memories are proof that he existed, and that what we had was extraordinary. Now, I see Levi in places where Oliver should be, and I hate him for it.
Footsteps outside the door interrupt the endless loop in my mind. Our room isn’t on the way to the bathroom, which is at the other end of the hall. Pru and I have the last room on this end, by the door that leads outside. I briefly wonder who might be out of bed at this hour and what they’re doing. The likelihood is that it’s another Ten member, still awake. But why would they be heading outside at one o’clock in the morning?
I pull on my gray hoodie and slip into my flip-flops, quietly opening my door and peering down the hallway, where I see a figure opening the door to Darkwood’s grounds. The exit sign above the door illuminates her face. Maude. It isn’t Madison, because this girl’s blond hair is pulled back severely. And her face—it looks determined but lacks Madison’s detached expression. Where is she going?
Without thinking, I follow her outside and down the path that leads to Dark Lake. She walks quickly, moving with the intention of someone who never questions herself. Is she meeting someone? I’m curious if she’s as outraged about the Ten as I am. If what she’s doing out of bed has anything to do with Madison’s orders tonight. Or if she’s meeting the other Similars, including Levi. As much as I want to deny it, I feel compelled to find out more about him, about all of them.
I must be losing my mind. After the emotional and death-defying day I’ve had, I should be resting for the first day of class, not following a Similar in the dead of night.
Maude takes a turn into the brush. I keep a good ten feet between us, hoping she doesn’t turn and spot me. When she reaches the water’s edge, I hang back in the trees. I cringe as I take in Dark Lake. Less than two hours ago, I was under that opaque, heavy water, gasping for breath.
I watch Maude approach two figures, and my stomach does a flip. Levi and Jago. Maude takes Jago’s hand. He holds on to hers with an ease that says they’ve done this a thousand times. They are comfortable together. They’re an item.
My eyes flick to Levi, glad that it’s dark enough I can’t be seen and that the trees provide some coverage.
That’s when it happens. It’s so quick, I almost miss it. It’s like Levi flies through the air. It’s as if he has wings.
I watch, entranced, as Levi shoots up off the ground, twisting two rotations before landing on his feet with the gentlest bend of his knees, as if the move took no effort at all. He must be doing some kind of acrobatics, and it’s clear he’s a master of the discipline, whatever it is. I’ve never seen anything like it.
“Your form was a little off,” Maude notes.
“Thanks, Coach,” Levi responds, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I find myself simultaneously repulsed by his attitude and captivated by his abilities. I’m eager to hear what he will say next.
“So, have you started yet?” she asks.
“No,” Levi says. “I haven’t. It’s a terrible thing to ask of me—of all of us. What gives him the right?”
“Oh, I don’t know…everything? The fact that he raised us? Educated us? That we wouldn’t even be here without him?” Maude snaps at him.
Jago snakes his arm around Maude’s shoulders. “Maude’s right. And even if she weren’t, we have no choice in the matter.”
Levi paces, clearly disagreeing. He stops and stands in front of the lake, running his hands through his hair. Then he starts talking again. This time, it’s harder for me to understand what he’s saying. It’s like I’ve suddenly been plunged back into Dark Lake. Levi says something about a task. About not liking what’s been asked of him. But his words sound slurred.
But wait. He’s not speaking English. He’s speaking French. I can tell because it’s the language I study at Darkwood. I thought I was pretty fluent, but hearing Levi speak it, I can tell he’s mastered it far better than I have. And yet, I can make out most of what he’s telling Maude and Jago, and a lot of what they say back to him. Speaking French must be another way the Similars communicate with each other. I’m intrigued, in spite of myself.
They’re talking quickly now. I’m sure I’m missing some key details, but I get the gist of their conversation. Levi fumes, declaring the whole thing deplorable, saying that he wishes they hadn’t come. Jago stays silent, while Maude makes her opinions known every few moments, reminding Levi that their guardian loves them and only wants what’s best for them.
“We’re here for a reason, Levi,” she insists. “You might be the favorite, but that doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want, whenever you want!”
The favorite? Whose favorite? Their guardian’s?
“I don’t see how I can possibly begin!” Levi explodes, finally speaking in English again. “Forget it. I’m going back to bed.”
“Levi…” Jago says. “You know it’s more complicated than that.”
“I’m done talking about this,” Levi responds, his voice gruff. He starts to walk off, right past where I’m standing in the shadows. I take a breath, too loudly, and my heart races. Levi’s heard me. He meets my eyes. We see each other. I’ve been caught.
Is he going to call me out? Tell Maude and Jago that I’ve been eavesdropping? To my surprise, he doesn’t. He walks right past me, without any other acknowledgment.
I let out a breath of relief at Levi’s retreating form and try to make sense of what I’ve heard. Who is their guardian, and what does he expect of them?
“Levi’s going to ruin it,” Maude says. “For all of us, Jago! It would be one thing if he were acting alone, but he has the rest of us to think about.”
Ruin it? Ruin what, exactly?
“It’s harder for him,” Jago replies. “Accepting our heritage and our purpose. Who we are. Why we’re here. But in the end, he can’t deny it. It’s in his bones, his very lifeblood. It’s the reason he thinks and feels and is. And none of us can stop it, even if we do irreparable harm. Even if we regret it till the day we die.”
Maude
’s response is too quiet for me to hear. She leans into Jago, and he embraces her. I step back into the trees, realizing I’ve overheard something private and sacred, and possibly even terrifying. Irreparable harm? Regret? Why are the Similars here? What are they planning? Without another look back, I run through the brush to the safety of my room.
Illegal Beings
The next morning, I drag my exhausted self to American history. I assume I’ll be the first to arrive, but Theodora’s already seated, and as I catch sight of her hair, pulled back into a tight knot and pinned with barrettes, my hand flies to my own head, where I’ve tried to even out the hack job I gave myself. I’m still ashamed of what I did to her, but if Theodora’s angry at me for chopping off her locks, I’d never know it. Like the other Similars, she acts stoic and calm.
It’s open seating, so I claim a desk close enough to Theodora to see what she’s doing. I watch as she pulls out a notebook and begins writing in it with a neat, steady hand. Her handwriting is crisp and beautiful. She must have made a concerted effort to learn script, unlike the rest of us who were educated at American schools, where cursive is pretty much obsolete. Maybe all the Similars had to learn cursive where they grew up. What was that place like? I haven’t given it much thought until now. All I know is what’s been reported in the news: the Similars had a wealthy guardian who raised them on his own private island. It was some kind of man-made seasteading property out in the middle of the ocean. The truth is, I really know nothing about the Similars except that they happen to share DNA with a few of my classmates.
I focus my attention back on Theodora. Despite her similarity to Tessa, they couldn’t be less alike in their style of dress. And Theodora’s hair, now even less like Tessa’s, is plainer, less glossy and more brown. Tessa’s hair must be professionally highlighted to look the way it does. I like Theodora’s natural color better.
Theodora pauses to glance out the window at Darkwood’s grounds. I recognize that look. She’s homesick. I never felt homesick at Darkwood, not as long as Oliver was here. Without him, it’s a different story. I look for him in the hallways where we studied together, laughed together, and ruminated on the meaning of life, and pizza, together. I don’t know anything about Theodora, but I can imagine how foreign this place must feel to her. I feel compelled to talk to her. To learn something else about her besides her hair is brown.
Before I can, my classmates start piling in, locating desks, and getting situated. Pru sits down and pulls her hair, wet from the shower, into a ponytail. She must have had an early crew practice. I feel bad. After that midnight session, she probably only slept a couple of hours before she had to get up. I only slept a few hours, too, but I’m a different story. Pru and I share a hello wave. Mr. Park is about to close the door when a final student slips inside, claiming the only remaining desk.
Levi. And the desk he claims is right next to mine. I don’t look at him. I don’t dare. But I feel his presence.
“Welcome back, friends and countrymen,” says Mr. Park, running a hand over his gray stubble. “This morning, I’d like to begin a yearlong discussion of current events, one that will be led by none other than…drumroll, please…all of you. Each week, I’ll encourage you to bring a news item to the proverbial table for a Monday morning scrum on the topic.”
I focus on Mr. Park. Anything to avoid looking at Levi. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Madison to my left and am instantly brought back to last night’s Ten initiation. It feels almost like a dream—or more accurately, a nightmare. This is one of the few classes that juniors and seniors take together, depending on their course schedules. Just my luck to end up in here with her.
“Let’s not dillydally,” Mr. Park continues. “Who would like to begin?”
A hand shoots up. It belongs to Madison. Mr. Park nods. “Go ahead, Ms. Huxley.”
“Two clones were detained trying to cross from Mexico into Texas,” Madison reports. “It was on the feeds at breakfast. They were college students, and they didn’t have updated identification. So, naturally, they were held at the border.”
Hearing these words leaving Madison’s mouth, my pulse speeds up. Heat begins to rise from my feet to my head as I take in what Madison’s just said. And not only what she’s said, but the tone in which she’s said it. She really believes those college students should have been held at the border? Anger bubbles inside me. But before I can speak up, Mr. Park cuts in.
“Can anyone tell me why the great state of Texas would ask to check the documentation for the two people in question?” he asks.
Another hand shoots up. It belongs to a boy named Henry Blackstone. “Because the government requires it of certain people, if they weren’t born here.”
“But they were born here,” Pru interrupts before I can say something myself. She’s as incensed as I am. Of course she is. “I saw that story; we all did—”
“I meant conceived,” Henry corrects himself. “They weren’t conceived here.”
“They’re U.S. citizens,” Pru insists. “They were born here and raised here, like you and me. And they went on a trip. A vacation to Mexico. And when they tried to return home, to their home country, they were told they needed extra documentation that other people are not required to carry. It’s totally unfair and wrong. It’s discrimination, plain and simple.”
“That may all be true, but you’re conveniently leaving out one key detail,” Madison interjects. “They’re clones. Their parents used illegal reproductive technology to create them twenty years ago. The documentation is for their own protection, because so many people have a fundamental problem with clones.”
“I don’t know anyone who has a problem with clones,” I blurt. “Oh, no, wait. There’s you.”
Madison shoots me a nasty look but doesn’t have time to respond, because Pru is reacting too.
“Believe me.” Pru crosses her arms over her chest. “That documentation is not for their own protection.”
“You’re right,” Henry pipes up. “It’s not just for their protection; it’s also for ours.”
“Why?” I shout, without raising my hand. “What are you implying—that clones are dangerous? You know there are two clones sitting in this classroom, right?” All eyes turn to Levi, who’s staring out the window like he doesn’t have any vested interest in the conversation, and Theodora, who is furiously writing in her journal. Is she taking notes? I wish I could see. I’m the only one not lingering on Levi. My ears burn thinking about him.
Henry looks exasperated. “I know that. And I’m sure they’ll make excellent contributions to this school. We’re happy to have them here because Darkwood is progressive.”
“Do you even know what that means?” I press, feeling myself getting increasingly worked up. “Darkwood has welcomed students of all races and religions and sexual orientations for decades. We had the first gender-neutral bathrooms and dorms of any boarding school. We have wheelchair access in every single classroom and meeting space. We are inclusive, and we celebrate that. ‘Inclusion’ is one of Darkwood’s founding tenets. It’s in our school pledge, and it’s why Headmaster Ransom knew Darkwood would be a safe space for the Similars!”
“I know that!” Henry cuts in, obviously flustered. “Look, I’m only repeating the facts. Clones are people, but they’re different from regular people. It’s not an opinion, Emma. It’s science.”
“We must have a very different definition of what qualifies as science,” I say.
“Perhaps it would be helpful if our new students weighed in,” Mr. Park says delicately. “Levi? Theodora? Would you like to contribute to this debate?”
Levi shrugs. “Darkwood might be progressive, but your society on the whole has a long history of classifying people by their race or religion or sexual orientation or gender and using those classifications to subjugate particular groups. Is it surprising that a bunch of small-minded government leaders thin
k cloning is the first step onto a slippery slope toward total Armageddon and the demise of the human race as we know it?” He stares at Mr. Park as if he’s actually expecting an answer. Again, I look down at my desk. I know everyone else is staring at Levi. I can feel Madison bristling.
“Excuse me,” Madison interrupts. “Those government leaders are trying to protect our society from the inevitable pitfalls that come with playing God. Like eugenics. If it’s okay to create a clone, what’s to stop us from screening embryos for hair and eye color and intelligence, or even more specific genetic markers, and creating a super race?”
“I think we’re missing the big picture here,” Theodora says with quiet confidence. We all turn to her, surprised she’s looked up from her notebook to say anything at all. “We’re failing to separate the act of cloning from the product of that act. Cloning itself is not legal in the United States. Whether or not it should be, it isn’t. That’s something U.S. scientists and lawmakers are going to have to sort through. It really has no bearing on whether or not clones—or people like us”—she indicates herself and Levi—“should be treated differently than anyone else.”
“You shouldn’t,” Pru pipes in, but Mr. Park holds up a hand to silence her.
“Excellent point, Theodora,” Mr. Park says. “Is it fair to punish the product of a scientific advancement because we don’t agree with the means by which that product was created?”
“Yes,” says Madison at the exact same time that Pru offers a vehement “No.”
“But, Mr. Park,” Pru keeps going, “that’s discrimination. It’s unconstitutional. Plus, it’s cruel and bigoted, and we have to stop that kind of thinking before people start believing it—”
“I beg to differ,” Madison responds. “A slew of judges and thinkers agree with me. My father says—”
“Isn’t your father’s work funded by the National Anti-Cloning Commission?” asks a boy in the back of the class. “And weren’t they a big backer of his campaign?”
The Similars Page 7
