The Similars (The Similars #1)(24)

“Excuse me. Do I have a say in this?” Levi shifts in his seat, uncrossing his legs. “Because I’m fairly certain I’m nothing like the venerable Oliver.”

I’m about to issue a retort when Pru jumps in. “Show some respect. Oliver died less than three months ago—”

“Believe me,” Levi says, “I know all about Oliver Ward’s death. I am well-versed in all things Oliver. I am his clone, after all. And speaking of respect, what about me? Your friend practically ripped off my face the second I got here.”

“Because you don’t deserve my respect,” I snap, finally looking him straight in the eye. “You’re right. You’re nothing like Oliver. You’re insensitive and obnoxious. Not to mention, a complete jerk—”

“See what I mean?” Levi responds.

“And you’re an embarrassment to his memory.”

“Mr. Gravelle! Ms. Chance! End of discussion!” Mr. Park exclaims.

But Levi doesn’t stop. “Do you think I want to have this face, Emma? Do you think I wake up every day pleased with myself for looking like this?”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Maybe you do.”

“Well, I would tell you if you ever thought to ask me. Instead, you make snap judgments, assume the worst about me, and punish me the minute you meet me.”

I’m beginning to return the onslaught when, apparently, the decibel of my voice pushes Mr. Park over the edge.

“That’s enough!” he barks. “Both of you. Headmaster Ransom’s office. Now.”





Duty


“Sit,” Principal Fleischer instructs us, ushering me and Levi inside Ransom’s office. She leaves without another word, and I’m relieved. The look on her face as she walked us in here was not a pleasant one.

Levi and I settle into twin upholstered chairs facing Ransom. I make sure not to look sideways, at Levi. Instead, I sit perfectly straight, my gaze on our headmaster, who’s perched behind his desk, his brow furrowed.

“I see,” Ransom says.

I’m about to ask, “See what?” when I notice he’s talking to someone on the phone, not us. He isn’t using the video feature, so from my vantage point, I can’t see or hear the person he’s talking to.

“Yes. I understand,” Ransom replies in a conciliatory tone. There’s a pause as he listens to the person on the other end. Then his brow drops into a frown. “As a matter of fact, she’s here now.”

Goose bumps prickle up my arms and down my spine. She? Does Ransom mean me?

“Certainly, Colin. I’ll relay the message,” says Ransom before pushing a button on his touch screen, abruptly ending the call. I straighten in my chair as though branded on the back with a hot iron. Colin. As in Colin Chance. The headmaster was talking to my father.

“Ms. Chance,” says Headmaster Ransom, surveying me. He turns his head to glance at Levi. “Mr. Gravelle.” Neither of us breathes a word in response. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Emmaline, that was your father on the phone.”

“I picked up on that, yeah,” I say begrudgingly. I hate that my father answered a call from the head of the school before responding to a buzz from his own daughter. But I don’t say that.

“He was not pleased to hear that you had already found yourself in my office. I assured him that whatever happened today in Mr. Park’s class was an anomaly. This is an uneasy time in our school’s history. Tensions are running high.” His gaze leaves mine and lands on Levi. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Gravelle?”

Levi shifts in his seat, shrugs.

“Just give me my detention, please,” I say flatly. “Or whatever the punishment may be. It can’t be worse than sitting here with him.”

Ransom leans back in his chair, the leather squeaking as he reclines. “You know, Emmaline, I would encourage you to consider the well-known phrase ‘Be careful what you wish for.’”

“And why is that?”

“At three o’clock this afternoon, the two of you will start your weeklong duty for today’s infraction.”

“The two of us?” Levi chokes out.

“At the commencement of class each day, you will hike down to the boathouse, where you’ll repaint it over the course of the next five days. Together.”

“Is that all?” Levi asks tightly.

“You are dismissed.”

*

I’ve been waiting for the call ever since I left Ransom’s office, and sure enough, my father finally buzzes me. When his face pops up on my plum screen looking appropriately concerned, I’m not in the mood to talk.

“I know you’re having a hard time, Emmaline, but detention? Already? A fight in front of your teacher?”

“It wasn’t a fight—”

“Maybe I should have Dr. Delmore reach out to you.”

“Why, so he can prescribe more pharmas?” I answer hotly. My father’s the CEO of a pharmaceutical company. Leave it to him to think prescription drugs are the answer to every problem. If I’ve learned anything these past few months since Oliver died, it’s that pills don’t take away your grief and pain on their own. They can mask it, briefly. But it’s all the worse when you emerge from the pharma haze and realize your best friend is still gone.