Copycat Read online

  “Guess who just contacted me? Oh my God, I’m totally shaking. Totally. Shaking. I can’t—I can’t—”

  “Okay, okay, I’m dying here!”

  “R. J. Rosen!”

  There was a long pause on Maya’s end of the phone.

  “Did you hear me? Maya, did you hear what I said? R. J. Rosen just emailed me. R. J. Rosen, author of the Gap Lake series. My favorite author ever! Just emailed me. Asking for me to help with promotional opportunities for the book. Can you believe it?”

  “Okay,” Maya paused, sucking in a long, slow breath before beginning again. “I’m not saying this to be mean. Because you’re my best friend and because we had that antibullying assembly last week. But why would R. J. Rosen, who’s like a huge, huge megastar, write to, like, kind of a huge nobody? And I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

  Addie’s eyebrows rose. “Wow, remind me to nominate you for best friend of the year award. Anyway, I might be kind of a nobody to you, but I’m pretty well known in the Gap Lake community.”

  “You write fan fiction and have, like, seven followers.”

  “My fan fiction is published in the school paper!”

  “Right, sorry. So you have negative seven followers.”

  “Yeah, well, I have twenty-seven thousand followers online. Either way, R. J. Rosen wrote to me and asked if I wanted to do some promotional stuff for the new Gap Lake book. And if you were really my best friend, you would see how totally awesome and amazing this is for me.”

  “R. J. Rosen, or R. J. Rosen’s publicity team?”

  “R. J. Rosen. R. J. Rosen himself,” Addie said.

  “I don’t buy it. Forgive me, but I’m the daughter of cops, remember? Don’t you think it’s the least bit weird that an author would be writing to bloggers? Like, I don’t know what authors do all day—I’m assuming it’s make up shit and eat bonbons. But I really doubt they spend their days trolling blog sites and writing to teenagers. Not that you’re not super totes amazeballs, of course.”

  “Okay, okay. In any other instance I would totally agree with you. Like, if Stephen King dropped me a note and was all ‘hey, what’s up, let’s be friends.’ But R. J. Rosen is different. He started out self-publishing and only crossed over to a major publisher when his books went mega gangbusters and he couldn’t keep up with fan demand. But he kept total creative control and is super anti-establishment. I don’t even know if he has a publicist.”

  “My gerbil has a publicist.”

  Addie grinned. “That’s right. How is Sir Fuzzy Pants McGinnis?”

  “Ask his publicist.”

  “Aren’t you at least a little bit happy for me?”

  “I’m sorry, Addie.” Maya’s voice rose a little, her excitement mounting. “You’re right. This actually is pretty cool. So you’re going to do it, right?”

  Addie bounded up, and began to pace her bedroom. “Of course I am. I mean, I don’t even know what ‘it’ is. Oh my gosh, what if he wants to meet me?”

  “What if he wants you to go on a book tour with him?”

  Addie stopped. “Does that even happen?”

  “I don’t know, but if it does I want to be your roadie. Like, I’ll lift all the books or turn all your pages or something.”

  Addie cocked her head when she heard the rumble of the garage door opening one floor down. “Ugh, Dad’s home.”

  “Time to dump GapLakeLove for the NASDAQ?”

  Addie grinned. “NASDAQ? Look who is learning big financial terms!”

  “Please, Adds, I know that you’re this tortured writer and everything, but being the daughter of a hotshot banker-dude has its perks. Your house is huge. You got a brand-new car on your sixteenth birthday. You have a freaking credit card! You know what I have? A paper route and a ten-speed.”

  “First of all, our house isn’t that big. And the car was kind of a twisted apology gift. I’m not getting behind the wheel of that purveyor of death, so it’s nothing but a pretty paperweight as far as I’m concerned. Credit card? For emergency purposes only. And you have neither a paper route nor a ten-speed. You have a good job at a retail food establishment and semi-reliable transportation.”

  “I work at Hot Dog on a Stick and have a stone-age Honda Accord. But you’re good with the spin. I can see why R. J. Rosen came to you. Talk to you later, Adds.”

  “Later, Mys.”

  “Addison?” Morton Gaines poked his head through Addie’s open door just as she shoved her phone into her back pocket. “Working on homework?” His hazel eyes flashed to Addie’s laptop. She slammed the thing closed and smiled widely.

  “Totally. Some stuff for the paper too.”

  The fatherly smile fell from her dad’s lips. “Are you still writing that fan fiction?”

  “It’s a column, Dad, and tons of kids read it. It’s one of the most popular things in the paper.” And on my fan site, Addie wanted to add. But she knew better. Morton Gaines was all about what looked good, what worked well, and what made money. And writing fan fiction did none of those things.

  “You know if you were to actually get on the paper staff, make it a class instead of a club activity, it would look great on your college transcripts. Every little bit helps when you want to get into Stanford.” He grinned and rolled up on his toes, one of those sitcom dad moves that made Addie’s stomach churn.

  But I don’t want to get into Stanford.

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll look into it.”

  There was an awkward pause that seemed to stretch for eons. For a moment, Addie missed her old dad, the one she had before the accident and before the trial and before he came home from work early three nights a week to attend court-mandated Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.

  “Anyway”—she drummed her fingers on her laptop—“I really should get back to work. Gotta keep those grades up, right?”

  Addie’s father offered her a thin smile, then nodded sharply. “Louisa left dinner in the oven. Be down in ten?”

  “Yeah.”

  ***

  The shriek of the school bell shot through the classroom and Addie’s brain. She slammed her history book shut and was in the hall before most of the kids in her class had even stood up. She was pacing in front of room 32B when Maya came out.

  “Finally, finally, finally! I have been waiting at least twenty minutes for you. What were you doing, hanging out with Mr. Hoover?”

  Maya pursed her lips and raised an unamused eyebrow. “The bell just rang. And while I have it on good authority that no one hates school more than I do, I’m beginning to think that I have competition.”

  “I don’t hate school. I just needed to talk to you. And you would ace all your classes if you’d just apply yourself the teensiest bit.” She held her thumb and forefinger a hairbreadth apart.

  Maya’s upper lip quirked. “You really wanted to get me out of class to do your best impression of my parents? Awesome.”

  “No, it’s this!” She held up her phone a half inch from Maya’s face, waving and grinning.

  “Oh my gosh! You have your own cell phone! Way to go, Addison! You’re like every sixth grader in the country.”

  Addie’s nostrils flared as she blew out an annoyed breath and began reading.

  The room was pitch-black. Completely cavernous. It felt cold and there was a smell in there, something vague and off. Something that Jordan recognized. She wrinkled her nose. Swampy. The school auditorium smelled swampy, like mud and old pond water.

  “What?” She whispered to herself. “Why would—”

  She heard the drips. Slow at first, then more insistent.

  “Hello?” She knew no one would answer her. But she was compelled to call out as she nudged her toe along the aisle, pressing her hands against the wall.

  “There has to be a light switch around here somewhere,” she muttered, still moving slow
ly, cautiously through the darkness. Finally, her fingertips brushed against it and she flipped the switch.

  Maya put her hand on Addie’s shoulder. “Did you write that? It’s actually kind of good.”

  Addie shook her head, then kept reading.

  Suddenly the auditorium, the stage, everything was ablaze with yellow light. The sound system flashed on, circus music swelling so loud it thumped in Jordan’s chest.

  And the smell of swamp water made sense.

  A scream rose in her chest but died at her lips.

  It was Luxe, onstage. She was stretched out, laid on top of a table. Her white dress was soaking wet and clung to her. Her arms were outstretched, so pale that Jordan could see them turning blue as water dripped from her clawed fingertips.

  She didn’t want to, but Jordan couldn’t stop herself. She was compelled to move closer, to go toward Luxe’s outstretched body. The swamp smell grew stronger. Jordan could see the slick green-brown of beach grass wrapped around Luxe’s bare legs, at her shoulders and throat.

  “Oh my God!” Maya shoved her hands against her mouth, eyes wide, before grinning. “Read the rest, read the rest!” she said, hopping from foot to foot. “How did you get this? Is this for real?”

  Addie slipped her phone into her back pocket, satisfied. “I told you. It’s from R. J. Rosen. There is more but… How cool is it that he wrote me back? He. Wrote. Me. Back!”

  Maya’s eyes lit up. “The author?” Her hands immediately went to her long hair. She smoothed it, brushing it all over one shoulder and looking around. “Is he here? Oh my God, is he here?”

  “What are you doing? He’s not here. Why are you doing that?”

  “Uh, newscasts? We could be on TV. I mean, my best friend is, like, best friends with the hottest writer out there. Why is this not being filmed?”

  “Because R. J. Rosen just sent me an email.” She shot Maya a smirk, rolling a strand of her shoulder-length hair around her fingers. “And a chunk of his story…”

  Maya frowned. “That’s it? Oh.”

  “Thanks for the support. Look, I have very little in my life. You should be excited. Listen to this:

  “I’m so glad you’ve decided to participate in the launch activities! While I can’t give you explicit details just yet, I can tell you that there will be a number of exciting stunts leading up to the book’s debut. And because you have proven to be such an asset to me and the team launching Gap Lake, you will be privy to some inside information about the story, the new book, and the characters. You’ll be posting new stories—this one included—right on your own blog. Use the hashtag #GapLakeFinale to get fans wanting more!”

  Maya gave a half shrug. “Well that’s pretty interesting, I guess. I mean, vague but cool, right?”

  “Yes, but the story!”

  “Yeah, it’s good. What are you supposed to do with it though?”

  Addie held up her phone, and made a big show of hitting a button. “This.”

  Maya blinked. “That. Was. Neat?”

  “I just posted the story. To my site. So all my fans are going to read it and freak, and R. J. Rosen is going to drive even more traffic to my site. Get it?”

  “Not really. But if it makes you happy, then I’m happy.”

  Addie smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

  “Ride home?”

  Addie didn’t take her eyes off her phone. “No thanks. Staying late to work on the paper.”

  Maya pushed out her lower lip. “Boo. I was hoping to hang poolside at your place. Maybe have your maid bring us some umbrella drinks.”

  Addie glanced back at her phone. “I already have fifty-four hits. There are fifty-four hits and I posted one minute ago! Listen: ‘you’re creepy!’ ‘OMG, scared to death!’ Also, the woman who made umbrella drinks is gone. We’ve got Louisa now.”

  “I liked umbrella drink maid! What happened to her?”

  Addie shrugged. “Pretty sure it was the fact that she offered her boss’s daughter an umbrella drink.”

  “You ruin everything. And how are people even posting comments? How fast do people read in the blogosphere?” Maya grabbed Addie’s phone, a wide, goofy smile moving across her lips. “Dude, Addie, you’re famous. People are constantly hitting this thing!”

  “It’s kind of cool, right?”

  “I take back everything I said. It’s super cool. You’re going to be, like, the female Stephen King. The girl guru of all things horror!”

  Addie took her phone back, unable to hide her own beaming grin. “Yeah. Don’t mess with me, or I’ll put you in a book and kill you!”

  ***

  “Okay, I’m taking pizza orders for tonight.” Colton Hayes held up his cell phone, finger hovering over the Notes app. “Tell Big Daddy what you want.”

  Maya spun, her eyes like daggers. “Jesus, Colton! How do you always sneak up on people? You’re like a thousand feet tall! Someone should put a damn bell on you.”

  Colton blushed beet red and Addie hid a smile. She knew she should feel sorry for the guy—his sole desire in life was to be noticed by Maya for something other than being enormous and silent. But he had the annoying tendency of showing up in the middle of conversations and referring to himself as “Big Daddy.”

  “Hey, Colton,” Addie said. She had a soft spot for him. Not only did he have an incredible mind for all things web and editorial, he was the editor at large of the school paper and Addie’s next-door neighbor.

  “You guys are staying to finish laying out the paper tonight, right?”

  Addie nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’m part of the team!”

  Maya rolled her eyes. “I’m not, but could I get in on that pizza?”

  Addie pinched her mooch of a best friend, but Colton was too deeply in love to care. He nodded vigorously and held up his phone. “What do you want me to order for you?”

  Three

  “I hate being at school when it’s dark. It’s so unnatural.” Maya shuddered.

  Addie balanced her laptop on her hip as she reached for the door to the journalism room. “And yet you’re here when you don’t need to be.”

  “I needed to have free pizza.”

  “I thought you worked tonight.”

  “And I thought you understood that woman cannot live on Hot Dog on a Stick alone. I’m going to work after this. Why is the building so dark? Aren’t Colton and his lackeys supposed to be here already?”

  “Colton went to get the pizza and I’m the lackey.”

  Maya grinned. “So it’s just going to be you and Colton tonight once I take my pizza and bail? Hot.”

  “Yes. Me, Colton, Kelly Weiss, Lydia Stevenson, Mr. Moreau.”

  “That sounds like a disgusting orgy. Do me a favor and don’t take any pictures.”

  Addie stopped walking when her phone pinged.

  “Oh my gosh!” She grinned.

  “You say that a lot.”

  “Get used to it. R. J. Rosen sent me a new message. The subject line is ‘Get Ready for a Surprise.’” She let out a little squeal. “He’s so awesome! I bet it’s the rest of the chapter he sent earlier.”

  Maya groaned. “That’s not awesome. Unless it’s directly followed by his credit card number.”

  Addie shook her head and tucked her phone in her back pocket. She pulled open the door to the journalism room, felt along the wall for a light switch. “I guess we’re the first ones here.”

  “Aren’t there supposed to be safety lights in here or something?”

  Addie shrugged. “It’s weird that Mr. Moreau isn’t here yet.”

  “It smells weird. Does it always smell so weird in here?”

  “You’re so dramatic. Here’s the—” Addie flicked the switch and the lights blazed bright. “Oh my God! Lydia, you scared the hell out of me.”

  All of the desks in the jour
nalism room were pushed against the walls, save for one. It was set in the middle of the room and occupied by Lydia Stevenson, Hawthorne High’s It Girl, head cheerleader, and lead journalist. She was facing forward, with her back toward Maya and Addie, and her head on the desk.

  “Lydia? Why were you sitting in the dark?”

  Maya sniffed at the air. “It smells like dirt. Why does it—” Maya took a step closer to Lydia, to the single desk, and stopped. “Lydia? Are you okay? You’re…”

  Lydia had her head on the desk. Her long blond hair was fanning down in a graceful wave, but it was stained a deep brown.

  Mud colored.

  Like her bare feet.

  “Addie?”

  Addie was closing in on Lydia too, slowly, carefully.

  “Don’t say it, Maya.”

  Maya reached out a shaking hand, her fingertips brushing over Lydia’s bare arms. They were cold. Ice cold.

  “She…she’s dead. I think she’s dead.”

  Addie’s phone pinged a second time. Stomach churning, she glanced at the readout, a sob dying in her chest.

  TheRealRJRosen:

  Did you like my surprise?

  Four

  It was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Addie started to shake, a violent tremor that started low in her gut and rocked through her until her teeth were chattering.

  “No,” she finally managed. “No.”

  “Addie, she’s—”

  In her mind, Addie was shaking her head. In her mind, she was shaking her head and touching Lydia’s shoulder, and Lydia was waking up and this was all a really bad dream.

  “We have to call the police. Call 911.”

  Maya was talking, making sense, but Addie couldn’t force herself to move. Finally, in molasses-like slow motion, she willed her arm to move. Her hand to grab her phone. She held her phone up, ready to dial, when the message from R. J. Rosen blazed again.

  “Did you like my surprise?”

  “Addie, dial. Do you hear me? Dial your phone!”

  Addie forced her mouth to move. “R. J.—”

  Maya stamped her foot and grabbed Addie by the shoulders, spinning her to face forward. “Stop with the R. J. Rosen stuff! You need to call the police! Lydia is—”