Alamort

14. Priya

COPYCAT – Billie Eillish

E yes still closed, I unfortunately woke up realizing I didn’t die in my sleep. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wash the sliminess of last night off of me before bed. Another day stuck in my miserable existence.

Stretching and yawning, I catch a whiff of coffee in the air. What the fuck? I jump up, my razor in hand, only to see River calmly drinking her tea, her legs tucked unseated her while scrolling through social media on her phone.

“Good morning, sunshine. Are you going to cut me with that too?” Ha. Ha. I appreciate the dark humor and the cup of coffee on the counter.

“How did you get in here?” I question. Since she shouldn’t be able to, considering the card is usually stashed in my bra.

“Oh yeah, I’m good with computers.” She holds up a replica of my card in her hand. My brain is taking a second to wake up because she seems to be the only person in the world who is wide awake, dressed for the day and ready to have an actual conversation first thing in the morning.

“So…?” I gesture for her to continue her explanation, not fully awake.

She rolls her eyes, “‘So’ it’s simple to snatch a spare keycard and reprogram it.”

Yeah, it’s ‘easy’. For who?

“Do you have very many friends?”

She shakes her head but doesn’t seem offended by the question. Normally, people don’t have someone make a copy of your card to come and go as they please. But what do I know?

Zoning out, slowly nodding, I come to terms with this situation. If worse comes to worse, I’ll cut her off and if that’s not the case, then it wouldn’t hurt to have a friend. Giving up the lecture of breaking and entering, I tell her to help me get ready.

“Who’s that?” The picture I forgot to put back away lies on the nightstand.

“My sister.” I say clipped, ending that conversation.

“Oh wow. She’s hot.” Swooning in her voice.

I chuckle, “Yeah, she is, huh?” I can’t bring myself to look at her. And I never tell her she’s dead. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to bring myself to say the words. Because saying she’s gone would make it real.

“Hey, speaking of breaking and entering. Did you make that card today? Or yesterday?”

“This morning. Bright and early. Figured I could always be at your disposal.” She bows as if it is a gift to be my friend and it makes me nauseous. I don’t want to disappoint her when she figures out I’m not that great.

“Help me get ready for my first day of prison, Nosy Norma.” I throw my pillow at her, almost knocking over her tea.

Looking at my schedule, it all coincides with Rivers, and I’m not sure if I should be thankful or suspicious. All but one, Psychology.

“Physical Education?” I huff.

“Yeah... P.E?” She squints at me.

“I know what it is. I completed all the graduation requirements last year. Don’t know why I have to do a fourth year of it.” Sucking my teeth. I hated it then, and I’m sure I’ll hate it even more here. It’s the first class of the day. I thought seniors get seniority and some sort of special treatment for it being their last year. Thank God I don’t wear makeup.

“We all get an extra 30 minutes to shower and get ready for the day again. If that makes you feel better. It’s a requirement to shower afterwards. Leaves us shorter classes so, that’s always nice.” Miss Sunshine over here, looking at the bright side of running laps first thing in the morning.

I took longer than expected to actually get up and moving, procrastinating the inevitable, the first day at a new school. I grabbed us each a protein bar that was already stocked in my room for breakfast. Finishing my breakfast, we walk into the huge gym to get into the locker rooms. River hands me a lock from out of her backpack with a set of school standard gym clothes. What else does she have in there? Because it seems like she’s more prepared for today than I am. With no one inside the locker rooms, I hurry to get changed before anyone says anything about my body or scars. River has seen me naked. I side eye her. At least she was an excellent date that night she stayed over, even made coffee in the morning for me.

Pulling my shirt down over my sports bra, an overwhelming amount of chatter filters in, lockers slam open and shut. There’s a handful of freshmen in our class. The girl with permanent marker on her face, courtesy of Amber, is silent as she makes her way to the locker next to me. Her make up doesn’t do a very good job of covering the arrows and lines nor the word on her forehead. A grimace makes its way to my face as I head out of the locker room with River.

“Amber went a little overboard with Lily last night.” She whispers.

“Just Lily? The whole thing was absurd. She went ‘overboard’ because her boyfriend is a man whore who can’t keep his hands to himself. Or if that wasn’t the case, then say ‘No’.” I shake my head at the ridiculousness of it.

River shrugs her shoulders. “Everyone gets welcomed their first year that way.”

“Yep! That explains it all.” Sarcasm laces my voice. “Amber tried to pull that shit with me in front of everyone.”

Anger replaces the look on her face.

“Ohmigod, no she didn’t!” Nodding to confirm she really did.

“That’s double fucked up. That’s never been done before, or at least I haven’t heard of it done to a senior.”

“It came with a lovely warning of staying away from her boyfriend.” Not mentioning Bennett’s close proximity to me earlier that day is probably the cause. Better to keep it to myself.

“Priya,” seriousness laces her tone as she looks me in the eye, “stay away from them. The Demons and the Angels. Not just because of Amber, they’re all bad news. That girl you asked about, Megan? The word is the Demons had something to do with her disappearance. I’m not sure how much is true, but it’s better safe than sorry. No one knows how capable a person can truly be.”

That’s the truth.

Walking out to the gym on a standing white board in a red dry erase marker is the teacher’s name and what we’re supposed to do.

“Mr. Riley - Warm up: 3 laps around gym.”

A collective groan comes from over half of the class. I do a mental rundown of my physical health and it isn’t very good. Well, it never has been, if I’m honest. My appetite has shrunk over the last nine months and the last time I had a drink of water was when it hit my lip in the shower.

On a more positive note, my mother made sure I ran constantly to lose weight if I ate something she didn’t agree with. Three laps should be easy.

I start by pacing myself, getting a good rhythm going, a little slower than I usually would. I glance back at River and slow down a little more when I see her not keeping up. She smiles gratefully, gulping for air.

“I’m not a runner.” She puffs. “Why sweat on purpose?” I’m impressed with her logic. “Who the frick thought that I would need to be running if I’m not being chased is beyond me.”

Chuckling at her reasoning, “I think there is some quota the schools have to meet for our exercise each year, hence the reason for the mile.” I heard it somewhere. Sounds legitimate enough.

“Miss Waaaaalton!” Her last name is drawn out in the way P.E teachers do. “If you’re joking, you’re not running hard enough!”

Wincing, I realize he’ll probably make us run longer. We pass by him on our second lap and I do a double take. He looks familiar but I can’t quite place him.

“River, who is the teacher? He looks like someone I know.” I throw another quick glance over my shoulder in hopes of placing his face.

“Coach Riley? I dunno. He’s been the football coach for the last three years. His family owns some oil rig company.” That could be it, but not likely. Behind us, I see both Ambers whisper and look at me, or maybe River. The way they whisper conspiratorially makes me wary. I take my eyes off them for not even a second when my foot catches on something and I’m sprawling out across the gym floor. Blinding pain explodes from the front of my face.

“Ow, fuck. Ow.” I moan into the ground until my hands come up to my nose, which is hot with pain and warm blood. The metallic taste of pennies coats the back of my throat. Gross. River runs up to me telling me she thinks I should go to the nurse. Then tips my head back to stop the bleeding. I gag at the taste of blood running down my throat. I’m going to puke. Both Amber and Ember are standing closer to me than I thought previously. Amber leans down.

“This is your last warning.” She hisses, pulling back with faux concern. Apparently, the heart-to-heart we had last night was one sided and didn’t quite resonate with her.

Riv gives me an ‘I told you so’ look and shakes her head, opening her mouth to respond to the threat when Coach Riley appears.

“What the fuck happened here?” he questions. It makes me wonder if he’s giving us the opportunity to come clean.

Amber chimes in, “It looks like she tripped.” She forces a frown that’s more like an unsympathetic pout.

“Come on.” He grabs me gently by the elbow and leads us to an office with a metal door into a room covered in sports equipment. Guiding me to a chair, hand still holding my nose back up in the air. He turns to a misplaced sink in the office to wet a rag. He’s wearing athletic shorts and a standard grey crewneck sweater. Even with the hoodie I can tell he is in shape. Muscled legs, strong hands, and perfect posture. Ew, that’s my teacher. He’s probably old and has a family at home, and I’m here drooling at his legs and physique.

He startles me out of my perverted train of thought, handing me the wet cloth. I tenderly clean myself up, careful of my sore nose in the process.

“Are you going to tell me what happened out there?” he prods.

“Amber told you, I tripped.” Trying to blow it off, I’m not necessarily a clumsy person. My father’s anger made sure I was a pro at walking on eggshells.

His face tells me he doesn’t believe me. If he knows Amber, he’s not saying anything.

“I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me the truth.”

I stare at him. It’s going to bug me to not know where I know him from. He’s handsome in the classic kind of way. But nothing stands out about him.

“If you think I’m going to rat on someone, you’re sadly mistaken. This isn’t my first rodeo of being stuck with a mean girl.” It’ll be worse if Amber found out I snitched on her. What are they really going to do, anyway? A slap on the wrist? Suffering in silence seems to be the better option of the two. He drops his head like he wants to say more.

“You can head to the showers. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

“In the shower?” I joke to break the tension. His face contorts to one of horror. Whether from the thought of helping me in the shower or maybe because he is my teacher and I’m a student, but at least I’m quick to spot that he doesn’t have a ring on his finger. I laugh at his face. It’s funny to see him flustered.

Putting him out of his misery, “I’m joking! Calm down.” From the corner of my eye, I spot a smile twitching on his full lips as he shakes his head. Then, I go out to face the humiliation of people who witnessed me get tripped. The unmistakable blood staining the front of my shirt.

I make a B-line for the locker rooms, trying to avoid people for the foreseeable future when I stumble upon Amber’s other victim from last night. Lily leans against the sink, quietly crying in front of the mirror, staring at the word ‘whore’ written across her forehead. Taking pity on her, I grab my bag with hand sanitizer and hand it to her as an olive branch. If Amber is going to be a bitch to both of us, we might as well stick together.

She glares at me from beneath her lashes. “What is this? If I wanted clean hands, I could just use soap and water like a normal person. Or is that beneath you?” Stunned at her outburst from me trying to be friendly because I felt bad, I have half a mind to walk away. Shaking my head, I realize from personal experience she’s lashing out in anger from humiliation.

I clear my throat before speaking. “Have you tried getting it off with hand sanitizer? I don’t think it will completely come off, but it should fade it enough to cover it up with makeup.”

Her eyes light up with hope and a touch of apprehension. “Really? This isn’t like some sort of trick and it’s going to make it stay forever, right?”

Shrugging, I leave her to figure it out. I don’t have a reason to be horrible to her. Not that she should have been all over Bennett to begin with. It takes two to tango.

She turns to the mirror with a sniffle and carefully applies the sanitizer to her skin. “I didn’t know.” She says quietly as I turn on the shower stall and grab a fluffy white towel from the rack. I don’t have anything to say. Whether she knew Bennett’s relationship status or not, isn’t my business.

I let the hot water soothe my muscles and run down my face before I lather myself in soap face to toe, taking care to exclude my hair because it’ll take forever to dry. The door opens and closes when she exits the locker room. I feel her absence in the stillness of the air.

I can be rather irrational. The emptiness of the room has a sinister feel to it. Shutting off the water, I dry myself and wrap a towel around my body.

“Hello?” Signal the stereotypical girl who gets killed in the locker room at her high school for being stupid and going out of her cornered stall. Is that a movie? Because I’m sure it’s happened somewhere.

When no one responds, I make a game plan. I’m going to dry off, put my clothes on as fast as I can in order to get the fuck out of here. Pretty foolproof plan, right?

Running for my life, I grab my clothes and run back into a dry stall and begin dressing like my life depends on it. I tuck my shirt into my skirt, coming up short. What the hell?

My hands graze against the rough, tattered fabric of my shirt, its threads frayed and torn. The sleeves are just lines with vertical cuts through them. The bottom of the shirt looks like a toddler who got ahold of scissors. Stomping out of the stall, I figure I’ll just wear my bloody shirt back to my room and change. That’s also missing. Gritting my teeth, I get into my locker, only to find it empty. My eye is twitching because of course I would attempt to be nice to someone and in return, they fuck me over.

What would she have to gain? I was being fucking helpful! The urge to scream is prominent. I’ll just go back to my dorm and it’ll be fine. Fuck my backpack, my clothes, and my classes. Just as I go to open the door. There’s a missing poster. The same one from the gas station posted on the back of the door. I don’t know if it’s exactly the same one, but it’s the same girl. Megan Riley.

Folding it up and tucking it into the waistband of my skirt, I leave the gym. Lo-and-behold, Amber is sitting outside with her camera. A flash overrides my vision.

“Wow, nice bra, Priya. Is everyone invited to the show? Or was it just for Bennett?” Amber snickers.

I cock my fist back. I may not be a fighter, but I can practice throwing a punch right to her pretty fucking nose so we can both match. A black-haired ball zooms by, catching my arm.

“Let’s not give the bitch what she wants. Which is you expelled on camera for punching her. M’kay?” River speaks lowly only for me to hear.

“She fucking shredded my shirt. All for what? Petty bullshit with her unfaithful boyfriend? I don’t even like the prick! All I wanted was to finish this fucking school year in peace and she seems content with not letting that happen!” I rage, struggling to get out of her iron grip.

“Okay, well, let’s get you covered up. Nice bra, by the way. Sexy. I pegged you for a Plain Jane, but the black lace?” She winks at me and leads me to a bathroom to change into a spare shirt of hers.

Sighing, I take it and change. “Plain Jane, huh?”

She cackles. “It got your mind off of it, though, right? Want to talk about it?”

I go into explaining about Lily crying, how I tried to help and when I heard her leave the room. Then I pull out the missing poster, hoping she’d shed some light on it.

“That’s fucking creepy.”

Thank you, I am aware of that. I lived it.

“So, why would a poster from four years ago pop up today?” I question.

“I don’t know Pri… It’s weird. Maybe they just wanted to scare you. And it worked, didn’t it?”

Yeah, but that doesn’t make sense. There’s no connection between the two of us. We didn’t know each other, not the same grade, and different birth years. It doesn’t make sense.

“I think we should look into it.” I push. There’s something about Megan not being talked about or acknowledged that sparks my curiosity. This is the second time I’ve come across this missing person ad. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.

Exasperated, she replies, “You want to look into a cold case that not even the cops could figure out? If the Demons had anything to do with it, you’re as good as dead. Don’t put your nose where it doesn’t belong, Priya. People have died for less. You’re my only friend here. Please, drop it.” Her concern is endearing, but something about the events in the locker room rubs me wrong.

“Yeah, okay.” I say, deflated.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“No.” I smile at her as she shakes her head.

“Come on, crazy, we got places to be.”

Even though I heeded Amber’s warning about Bennett Demonio, the Amber duo had already printed out pictures of me in my bra and plastered them all over the hallways, and on some social media site for the school by lunch.

In Psychology, I’m pulled out of class by none other than the douchebag that cornered me in the party to guide me to the deans’ office.

“Hey, nice picture. Adding to my spank bank.” His smug smirk tells me he had something to do with it. That’s fine. He’ll get what’s coming to him.

“Thanks, Austin!” I say to get under his skin.

“Oscar.” He says with narrowed eyes.

I know. I just don’t want him to think his name holds any importance.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s what I said.” Brushing him off because guys who have big egos love that shit.

He leaves me at the dean’s door and I knock, feeling like I was just here yesterday.

“Enter,” says a bored voice from behind the heavy door. It looks like he was in the middle of sitting here. I’m sure I’ll be his excitement for the day.

“First day here and already causing problems, Miss Carter.” His expensive brown suit doesn’t mask the nastiness oozing from his pores. I do a dramatic 360-degree turn until I face him once again.

“I don’t see any fires?” I question. Since that was the one stipulation he wouldn’t tolerate.

“Ahh, no, but posting inappropriate pictures of yourself on the school website is frowned upon, don’t you think? Or what about skipping second period? We take attendance here very seriously.” Was I supposed to go to class like that? I would want everyone to see that? Is this guy joking right now? There used to be a show about this. Someone would jump out and say they’re getting “Punk’d”. I’m not a celebrity, but this has to be a joke.

Raising my eyebrows, I go to respond to tell him exactly what I think of arrogant pricks like himself. When he cuts me off.

“Saturday detention with me. I’ll see you then.” Then busies himself with some papers on his desk. The thing about men such as Headmaster Bush is that they never believe they are wrong.

By the time I get back to my room, I have homework in every class except gym. My hand aches from writing before transferring it onto the tablet provided from the school. I like to visualize it, see it then put down on electronics. Not only stare at a computer for hours on end.

Remembering the paper I put into the waistband of my skirt about Megan, I take a well-deserved break and do some research. Typing her name in the search engine only to have a window pop up as blocked, denying me access. Weird that a student who went missing here and now you can’t search her name in the search bar. That’s suspicious.

I pull out my phone that’s not associated with the school network and try again. A minimum of five articles pops up when searching for information about Megan. I eagerly select the first one that comes up. It’s the same flyer from the gas station and locker room.

Missing Persons: Megan Riley

Sex: Female

Race: Asian/Caucasian

Age Missing: 17

Missing From: Port Clyde, Maine

It goes on listing her physical characteristics, the standard on a missing person report. Backing out, I click on the article below.

“ Teenager Reported Missing from Cox Academy, ” reads the headline.

“ PCPD are growing increasingly concerned for the welfare and whereabouts of a teenage girl last seen on the school campus of infamous Cox Academy heading to her dorm. Megan Riley, 17 originally from Los Angeles, CA was last seen wearing a white shirt and jeans. Port Clyde police are asking for anyone with information to come forward and her family has put out a reward for her safely return. Officers are currently investigating close family members and friends. No suspects at this time .”

My tongue runs along the outside of my teeth. Deciding to screenshot it to dig into it later. It’s weird that her family asked for a “safe return”. Did they know someone had her all along?

I back out of the website to see what else I can find. A recent headline from nine months ago, “ Riley disappearance being ruled as homicide .” Whoa. I click it and my phone glitches. An error page has popped up in place of where the article should be. What the hell? At least I screenshotted one page, that way I can try to track down any theories. A knock sounds at my door, and I quickly shut my phone off, knowing River didn’t want me to dig into her disappearance.