The Similars (The Similars #1)(55)

At least Levi has returned to school. He sits with the other Similars at dinner, and for maybe the first time ever, he’s not reading a book. He talks quietly, an untouched tray of food in front of him. Pippa puts an arm around him. The others huddle in close.

I wonder if they’re talking about me. Word has gotten out that I gave a statement to the police—my version of the events surrounding Pru’s attack. I feel manipulated and foolish. Why had I let myself panic, tracking down Headmaster Ransom in the middle of the night? Why hadn’t I kept my mouth shut? Though the Similars can make me uncomfortable, I don’t believe, deep down, that Levi would have hurt Prudence. But Levi doesn’t know that. If he’s heard the rumors, he knows I had something to do with him being questioned. And Pippa must know too, which would explain why she hasn’t walked over to sit with me or even waved hello. Our last interaction was tense, to say the least, but we both care about Pru. I’m still dying to show her To Kill a Mockingbird and Jaeger’s note. Now doesn’t feel like the right time.

When I see Levi get up from the table and bus his tray, I excuse myself and follow him outside. He must not see me because when I call out his name, he turns, surprised. We’re standing on a lit path outside the dining hall. Students shuffle past, some sneaking glances at us before moving on. We aren’t completely alone, but we’re alone enough to talk.

“What is it, Emma?”

“I did something.”

Levi doesn’t respond. I can’t tell if he looks betrayed, heartbroken, angry, or all of the above.

“I went to see Headmaster Ransom last night. I told him I thought Madison attacked Pru,” I say, forcing myself to act more confident than I feel. “I wanted to get his help. Ransom said he trusted you. He never would have invited you and the other Similars here if he didn’t. But then he asked the police to question me this morning. They tried to poke holes in my story. I defended you! Please, Levi. You have to know I didn’t say anything to hurt you. I love Pru. The idea of her in a coma, or dead—it’s killing me.”

I take a deep breath before continuing. “The thing is, Levi. Maybe if you had explained it all to me: The cut on your arm. The tasks. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so completely in the dark. Maybe if something in my life made sense—”

“You want to know what it all means?” Levi interrupts me.

“Yes! God, yes. I want to trust you. I don’t think you attacked Prudence. I don’t want to believe you would do anything to hurt anyone—but how am I supposed to know that? Particularly when all of your secrets make you seem dangerous.”

“Our bodies don’t work like yours, Emma. Sure, we have the same organs and bones and cells. But there are properties,” he says softly, almost reverently, not looking at me. It’s almost like he can’t. “Ways our bodies function that no one can explain.”

We’ve wandered over to a bench, away from the other students. It’s quiet, so quiet I can hear my own breath as it leaves my body.

“It was Seymour,” Levi continues. “His famous primate experiment, the one I asked you not to question. Albert Seymour cloned some monkeys in his lab using a slightly different technique than his tried-and-true protocol. Later, when Seymour was studying them, he discovered that they were impervious to certain diseases, far less likely to get sick than the original monkeys they were cloned from. He eventually figured out that their wounds healed faster, and that their bones were about forty times harder to break.”

“So if they fell,” I start, “like from a tree…”

Levi nods and finishes my thought, “They wouldn’t be harmed.”

“And you and the Similars…”

“We were created using this same technique.”

“But why?” I ask.

“We believe someone in Seymour’s lab knew about his results with the monkeys and chose to re-create the experiment.”

“So most clones aren’t like you. They don’t have special attributes.”

“No. Every other clone, at least that I know of, has been conceived in the traditional way. Somatic cell nuclear transfer. After Seymour had those surprising results with the primates, he wrote a paper on it—the one Mr. Park referred to—but it was never published in any journals. He buried it in his files. I think he was worried about the implications of being able to clone people with ‘atypical’ capabilities.”

“So you’re saying someone who worked for Seymour defied his wishes and cloned you and your friends using this alternate method—without Seymour’s knowledge?”

“Yes.”

“Or maybe Seymour did it.”

“I suppose that’s possible. But why does it matter?”

“It matters because whoever did so must have had an agenda. And maybe that explains why you and the other Similars were created. Are you all the same?” I ask pointedly. “You, Pippa, Jago, and the others? Do you have the same capabilities? If they get wounded, do they heal quickly too?”

“Not exactly,” he says. “We’re all different in that respect. I don’t bleed for very long. It has to do with the way my blood clots. Jago, for example, is stronger than me. He can lift twice as much as you’d expect from someone his size. Theodora doesn’t bruise, ever, but I do. Our bodies can withstand more trauma than the average human, but we’re not unbreakable. And if we’re like the monkeys, we won’t age like regular people. We’ll plateau. The monkeys did, anyway.”