The Similars (The Similars #1)(31)

I consider this. Levi’s right, of course. According to every report on the incident, the lab tech was suffering a psychological breakdown when he cloned the originals. It wasn’t clear he truly comprehended what he had done. He was fired and transferred to a private facility for mental evaluation. That was sixteen years ago. No one’s heard anything about him since.

“So. What was he like?” Levi asks.

“What was who like?” I whisper, though I know with every atom of my being who he’s talking about.

“My original. My doppelg?nger. My…clone, if you will.”

“Well, for starters, Oliver wasn’t a jerk.”

Levi actually laughs. “I forgot how much you love snap judgments. I suppose I could see how that might be endearing. To some.”

He carried Pru all that way, I remind myself. He isn’t a jerk, Emma.

“Oliver is—was—my chlorophyll,” I say simply.

I wait for Levi to make fun of what I said. But he doesn’t.

Then a moment later, it comes. “Oliver helped you produce oxygen which you then released as a waste product?”

I sigh. “No. He converted light into energy.”

I can tell he’s intrigued because he doesn’t ask any more questions.

We come to the highway and walk side by side on the shoulder. A few lonely cars whoosh past us.

“You’re not an easy person to get to know,” Levi says. “We spent hours together yesterday. During duty and after…” He shrugs. “I still know nothing about you. Not to mention Oliver, whom you only described using a pretty tenuous metaphor related to botany.”

A high-pitched shriek sounds above us as a hawk circles overhead. I tremble at the sound and the chill. I’m suddenly acutely aware of the boy walking next to me.

“I don’t want you to pity me when I say this,” Levi explains. “But I’ve spent my entire life knowing that I looked exactly like a person I’d never met. Now that person is dead, so I’ll never have the chance to meet him—and I always thought I would.” He clarifies, “I didn’t think we’d be instant brothers or anything. I just thought someday we’d meet. And since we can’t… Learning about him—it helps.”

“Helps with what?” I ask, my voice barely audible.

“Making sense of my life,” he replies. “Of my seemingly random, and for the most part, useless existence.”

We’re silent for another minute as our steps accelerate.

“You want to know something about Oliver?” I offer. “Something real?”

Levi doesn’t respond, but the mood shifts between us. I can tell I have his undivided attention.

“There are physical differences between you and him. Your hair is longer than his was. Also, I don’t know if you’re more muscular or he was just leaner, but…” I stop myself. The last thing I want to discuss is Levi’s body. “Oliver was smart. He had a geeky love of learning. He would talk to me about the most random and irrelevant stuff. Only, it wasn’t random or irrelevant, not to him.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Astronomy. History. Politics. That’s why he loved filmmaking. He thought everything in the world was worth documenting, even the most mundane stories. But the real reason Oliver was my best friend was because he was so freaking genuine. He was funny, you know? Not in a sarcastic way, like me…or you,” I add. “He was so optimistic. So earnest. The truth is, I would have hated him if he weren’t my favorite person.”

Levi considers this, then: “What are Oliver’s parents like?”

My heart leaps at the mention of them. “Who, Jane and Booker? Jane is…” I feel myself tearing up. “Jane is not describable. At least not in words.”

“Try charades, then,” Levi offers.

I scowl. “I guess you could say she is real. If ‘real’ means kind and perceptive and funny and forgiving. And Booker—technically, he’s Oliver’s stepfather, but he raised Ollie from when he was really little. He legally adopted him and everything. Ollie doesn’t even remember a time when Booker wasn’t his dad.” I correct myself, “Didn’t.”

“Let me guess. He’s ‘real’ too?”

“Very” is all I can choke out.

Levi’s brow furrows, like something’s bothering him. It’s clear he doesn’t like the answer I’ve given him.

I stop walking. “I’m confused,” I say.

“What about?” Levi asks, stopping too.

“I don’t understand why they didn’t tell Jane and Booker about you. The other parents—Madison’s, Tessa’s, Pru’s mom and dad, the others… They were all told that their kids had Similars.”

“How do you know they didn’t tell Jane and Booker about me?” Levi asks, his voice tight.

“You haven’t met them, have you?”

“No.”

“If they knew about you, they would want to meet you.”

“Oliver’s parents were told. The Wards sent a note explaining they weren’t interested in meeting me.” The emotion drains from his voice. “Mrs. Ward said I ‘wasn’t to consider myself a part of their family.’”