Dead Ringer (21 page)

November
21

Laura

As of the week of November 20th, it
was clear that Laura Rivers was the new queen of Englewood High School.

All anyone in the junior and senior classes could talk about
was her Friendsgiving Bash planned for the upcoming Friday night. Laura had
casually invited thirty or so people, but from the sounds of it, two hundred
thirty were attending. No one in Englewood had ever thought of throwing a
Thanksgiving rager. No one’s parents went away around that holiday. Therefore,
Laura Rivers was the luckiest and coolest girl that pretty much ever existed.
She didn’t mind the attention, even if it did make her insanely nervous to
throw a party that delivered on all that expectation.

Fortunately, the rumor mill told her exactly what she needed
to have to make for the epic event. “I bet she has tons of Pacifico. That’s all
they drink in Cali,” someone said. “Wonder if she’s going to crank up the heat
in the house and play old school No Doubt
so it feels like SoCal,” said
another. “If she has food—which she obviously will—it better be
shrimp tacos, though I don’t know how she’ll pull that off. No one around here
even sells shrimp tacos because this town sucks so much.” And with that, Laura
had her shopping list. First, though, she had a very different task to attend
to.

Charlie

“I know the details are still fuzzy,
but do you think you could talk to me about how you were feeling before you hit
your coach, Charlie?”

Charlie heard Dr. Walter ask something, but he couldn’t
focus on her words enough to know what she was saying. It all just sounded like
it was coming at him through a long tunnel—everything had since the
moment he lost control and lunged at Stanley.

It didn’t escape Charlie that Coach was the person who was
supposed to convince him to go back to therapy. Now, because of what happened
yesterday, Dr. Walter controlled whether or not Charlie could go back to school.
Though, right now he would have been happy if the decision was that he should
transfer. There was nothing left for him at EHS.

But it wasn’t all the cruel stares and nasty comments that
made Charlie finally snap with a right-fisted punch directly at Coach’s left
eye. And, despite what everyone thought, it wasn’t just the fact that Stanley fully
cut him from the soccer team minutes before the “altercation” as Principal
Hayden called it.

“It has been decided by the school board that your actions
against Sarah Castro-Tanner warrant consequence, Charlie,” the principal had
said. He was standing in Coach Stanley’s office when he delivered the news,
which was another fact that Charlie did not appreciate. This may have been
Hayden’s decision, but Coach should have been man enough to deliver the news.
“The character you exhibited in this situation is not in keeping with the
standards to which we hold our student athletes. For that reason, we cannot
have you representing our school as a member of the soccer team. What you did
to that girl is shameful, and, as a school, we have to take a stand against it
so that it doesn’t happen again. And I’m sorry, Charlie, but we’ve had to
notify the colleges you’ve applied to about this situation.”

Charlie felt like his insides were spilling out of his
mouth. He didn’t think he could possibly feel more worthless. His soccer career
was over, his college dreams were erased—he had failed. Then Coach Stanley
spoke up.

“I just don’t understand how you could do something so
hurtful to a young girl,” he said. Those words hit Charlie’s ears harder than
any of the insults that had been hurled at him so far. Hearing Coach say “a
young girl” was what made Charlie lose control over his body. In one swift
movement he leapt out of his seat, lunged across the desk, and threw his right fist
at Coach’s eye. As Charlie felt his body release all that anger, he realized
just how long he’d been holding it in. Hayden couldn’t reach over to grab him
before Charlie’s fist slammed into the tight skin of Coach’s cheekbone. He bled
instantly and everywhere. It was grotesque.

Thirty minutes later, Charlie was sitting in the passenger
seat of his mother’s car. She did not speak to him for the entire drive home,
and when she finally did say a word it was a simple one. “Why?” And now, the
very next day, he was back on Dr. Walter’s couch.

“How did you feel?” she had asked.

“I felt amazing,” he said. A wide-eyed reaction let Charlie
know that Dr. Walter was not expecting that answer.

“Can you tell me what ‘amazing’ feels like, Charlie?” she
asked.

“I didn’t want to hit him,” Charlie said, lying. He could
not talk about Stanley, even to Dr. Walter. “My body just needed, like, a
release or something.” That part was not a lie.

“And that release felt good?”

“It felt so good,” Charlie confessed.

Dr. Walter nodded. He couldn’t tell whether or not she was
judging him for what he’d just said, but he didn’t care. It was such a relief
to say the truth out loud.

“Dangerous things can happen when we hold in our feelings or
our truths,” she said. “It sounds like you’ve been doing some of that lately,
yes?”

Charlie nodded. The list of lies he’d told over the past two
years and secrets he was still keeping made his head spin. It felt like there
was no more room in his mind.

“I need you to know that this is a safe place, Charlie. As
your doctor, I can keep anything you say confidential. That rule exists so that
I can treat you. Because if I don’t know the truth, I can’t help you deal with
your feelings.”

Charlie nodded again. He knew all about doctor-patient
confidentiality. Dr. Walter explained it during their first go-around, but that
time she had included a detail that Charlie never forgot:
unless you confess
your intention to hurt yourself or another person, or that you already have.

Because of that part of the clause, Charlie could never tell
Dr. Walter the whole truth. If he did, she would be required to report him to
the authorities.

“Charlie,” Dr. Walter said after a few seconds of silence,
“I know that you’re here because of what happened with Coach Stanley, but do
you want to talk about some of your feelings regarding Sarah Castro-Tanner’s
suicide note?”

Charlie had been wondering all session if Dr. Walter was
going to bring that up. It was all over the news. He wanted desperately to
confess how he really felt.

“How do I feel about the suicide note?” he would say. “I
feel like it doesn’t matter because that’s not what happened. Sarah didn’t
commit suicide. Maybe she wanted to at some point or was planning to, but she
never got the chance because on the night of December 23, we killed her.”

That was the truth. The whole world thought that Charlie,
Amanda, Kit, and Miller bullied Sarah into taking her own life, and that was
bad enough to ruin his life, but the reality was even worse. That was the fact
he would now have to take to his grave. Charlie could never, ever tell Dr. Walter
that the game they played to scare Sarah into leaving them alone was the reason
she plummeted off the Navesink River Bridge. He couldn’t tell her how scared he
had been since it happened, explain what it felt like to have his world fall
apart, and ask her what he was supposed to do to feel better. For the first
time in his life, Charlie was certain that he could not handle this on his own.
He needed help, and if he didn’t get it, he didn’t know what might happen. But
there was absolutely no way out. If he told Dr. Walter the truth, he would
spend the rest of his life in jail. The only option was to stay silent and hope
that all these feelings didn’t eat away at him until he did to himself what
Sarah never could.

“The note makes me feel sad,” Charlie finally said. It was
the best he could come up with, and it was part of the truth. He felt sad that
Sarah felt that way at some point in her life. He didn’t know if she’d written
that note one week or one year before she actually died, but he wasn’t
surprised to know that she had a plan to disappear. He knew from thousands of
school assemblies that most people don’t follow through with those plans, so more
likely than not, Sarah would have lived if not for him.

“Can you think of something you’ve done in the past to help
lift that sadness from your body?” Dr. Walter asked.

Charlie thought for a second. Nothing could make the
feelings go away, but what Charlie’s body craved was more of the feeling that
punching Coach Stanley gave him: a release.

* * *

 He knew he was playing with
fire by running by the bridge that night, but Charlie didn’t care. He needed to
get all the anxious energy coursing through his veins out of his body, and the
only place that his mind wanted to take him was the spot.

Charlie waited until nine o’clock before he put his running
sneakers on and slipped out the door. He was supposed to stay home when his mom
left for her shift at eight o’clock—for his own safety, she explained.
She’d debated for hours about how she should punish him, but in the end she did
nothing.

“You don’t need to be grounded,” she said. “You’ll learn
more of a lesson by facing what you did out in this community than you will by
sitting inside this house.” She was right.

Charlie hit the pavement hard with each stride. He was
running faster than usual, but he didn’t feel any pain or fatigue. He usually
listened to music when he jogged—classic rock or whatever new pop songs
didn’t feel too girly—but right now he wanted to be alone with his
thoughts. If Dr. Walter believed that facing the truth would help, then maybe
it would be best to face it alone.

It was a ten-mile trek between Charlie’s house in the center
of town and the Navesink River, but he got there in less than an hour. The
minute he did, he wanted to turn around and run away.

This was the very first time he’d been back since that
night, and the sight of it hit as hard as he was afraid it might. He forced his
body onto the thick, wooden planks of the bridge before he could convince
himself to stop. The spot was in the dead center of the bridge. In daylight, it
would have been in plain view of anyone driving by on the highway above, but
the bridge hadn’t been lit in years, so Charlie had only the moonlight guiding
him out on the structure. It wasn’t as cold as it had been on the same night
almost exactly two years ago, but the view below was just as ominous. That
black water could kill; it had killed.
Maybe
, Charlie thought for the
first time,
it should kill me, too
.

When Charlie reached the exact post in the railing where
they’d stopped that night to play their game, his body took over for his mind.
He stopped running, reached his hands onto the railing and hoisted himself up
onto the ledge. He wanted to jump, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Instead he just screamed with every ounce of energy left in his body. Then he
screamed again, and again and again until his throat was so dry that he
couldn’t stop coughing. Next he started kicking and punching at the wood guard
so hard that his fists started to bleed and a hole popped into his left
sneaker. His body hurt, but somehow the pain felt good. He kept on pushing.

After a minute or so he saw a light in the distance—a
small beam like the flashlight on a cellphone. Charlie froze. Before he could
make out the figure walking toward him, she spoke.

“Charlie? Hello? Stop! What are you doing?! You’re going to
kill yourself!”

It was Laura.

Laura

Laura approached Charlie slowly
after she got his attention. She couldn’t tell what state he was in, and she
didn’t want to take any risks.

“Laura?” he said after he finally saw her through the
darkness. “What are you doing here?”

No matter how many times she’d heard him use that name, it
still felt strange to hear. If only Charlie knew that Laura was the name of the
girl whose pictures Sarah had used when she pretended to be Chelsea all those
years ago——Laura Janson from Pleasantville, New York. She’d chosen
them for Chelsea because that Laura looked so sweet and innocent, and because
she never, ever checked her profile. She’d never know someone had been
tinkering around using pictures of her face. Charlie probably wouldn’t be so
fond of the name if he knew all that, but he’d like it even less if he knew
that the “River” in her last name was in honor of this very spot.
Someday
he’ll know
, Laura thought to herself as she walked closer.

“I was just getting some supplies for this party I’m having when
I saw a person down here,” she said. “I thought it looked like you so I pulled over.
Charlie…what are you
doing
?”

Charlie looked to where the dirt road led to the river. “Where
is there to shop in that direction?” he asked.

Laura couldn’t tell if he was being suspicious or just
curious. “Don’t change the subject,” she said. “What are
you
doing out
here murdering this bridge?”

Laura watched as Charlie’s face reacted to the word
murder.
He was fully and completely paranoid, and doing a much worse job of hiding
it these days. Right now, he looked completely guilty. He hung his head down as
he stepped away from the railing, trying to figure out what to say next, it
seemed.

“I’m all messed up about this Sarah thing, and I ran here
to…I don’t know…think about it, I guess.”

“Looks like you’re doing more than thinking about it,” Laura
said. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Were you trying to…?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t know. This was just…an impossible
day.”

Laura debated pressing Charlie more on what specifically happened
during the day, but she didn’t want to push him away right now. She’d kept
things rocky between them so that the eventual reunion she was planning would
be perfectly timed, and she did not want to rush it.

“Let me drive you home,” she said, “and we can talk about it
if you want. It’s really cold out here.”

“It’s fine,” Charlie said. “I know that you hate me. I know
you’re having a party and didn’t invite me. I know you practically run the
school now, and I’m what everyone whispers about. Just leave me out here. It’s
better for both of us.”

Laura looked at Charlie as he turned back to face the wood
railing. This was definitely not the Charlie that wooed her just weeks ago, and
it wasn’t the Charlie that Sarah Castro-Tanner had known since middle school.
His face was hollowed out like he’d either lost weight over the last few weeks
or not slept a wink. His body was hunched over from the shoulders, not straight
and strong like usual. And all he was wearing was a T-shirt and shorts, as if
he didn’t care enough to keep his body warm. He was a shell of the Charlie
Sanders that had stood in this very same spot almost exactly two years ago and
destroyed a life to keep his own perfect.

If Laura hadn’t been so totally delighted by that fact, she
would have felt sorry for him.

It was tempting to leave Charlie to run home in the cold,
but she had to stay focused on the objective. It wasn’t time for the last phase
of her plan to begin, so she couldn’t completely separate from Charlie. She
needed one more piece of information from him in order to have all the necessary
control. But his weakness made her realize that now was the perfect time for
them to begin to rekindle their romance. Charlie was obviously in need of
comfort, and with the suicide note just “found,” he might be more willing to
talk about what really happened. From the looks of it, he was very close to
cracking. Laura smiled at the thought of how much faster he would crumble if he
knew
she
was the one who slipped in to her former bedroom and placed the
note—which was written just for this occasion—under a barely
loosened floorboard. She wondered if any part of him would be
impressed.

“I don’t hate you, Charlie,” she said, “and you can’t blame
yourself for everything that happened to Sarah. It seems like she had a lot of
demons. I don’t think any of what you did was right, but I don’t think her
death had everything to do with you.”

Charlie looked up at Laura. His eyes were tired, but still
so clearly full of pain.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Maybe what?” she replied.

“Maybe it didn’t have everything to do with me.” With that
confusing comment, Charlie started to walk in her direction. “I’ll take that
ride,” he said, “if you’re still willing?”

Laura nodded. Then, together, Charlie Sanders and the
entirely new version of Sarah Castro-Tanner walked away from the very spot
where he thought he ended her life. Laura’s body tingled inside. It was all too
perfect.

* * *

They made it back to Charlie’s house
without him saying anything interesting. He was freezing cold and obviously
exhausted, plus there was still some awkwardness between them from all the
earlier fights. If Laura was going to take steps toward the two of them
spending time together again, she would have to make the first move.

“Hey, Charlie,” she said as they pulled in front of his apartment
building. “I know things have been weird between us but I need you to know that
I’m here if you ever really need someone. I would hate for you to do something
stupid or hurt yourself because you feel like you have no one to talk to.”

Charlie looked her way and nodded. It was like he heard her
but the words didn’t fully process. “Thank you,” he finally said. “I’ll try.”

“You’ll try what?” Laura asked. It was the same kind of
weird, cryptic response he gave her on the bridge.

“I’ll try not to do anything stupid.” He got out of the car
and slumped up to the front door.

Laura waited until he made it inside before she let a wide
smile creep across her face. Charlie was reacting to all of her work better
than she could have ever anticipated. He seemed destroyed, which was certainly
one of her intended goals, but she couldn’t have him fall apart quite so fast.
She needed to be careful, considering his fragile mental state. She’d have to
continue following him.

Laura had been following Charlie on and off over the months
since she arrived back in Englewood, but nothing had proved to be particularly
helpful to her cause until tonight. She already had all the information that
she needed to create the VidBits and texted images she’d been prodding him
with—she took them all the night it happened. They were plenty to scare
the crap out of Charlie, setting her entire payback plan in motion, but
following him felt like a smart move in case anything could speed the process
of Charlie’s destruction along. Apparently that wasn’t necessary because
“Sasha” stepped in as an unexpected accomplice.

Since the surprise discovery that Charlie’s second stalker
was her sister, Laura still hadn’t figured out exactly how Lexi knew what she
knew about the night Sarah “died.” She had received no response to the email
she sent after running away from the park. But if Laura knew Lexi, then she
knew Lexi would not give up. She was being careful, and rightly so. Laura would
lie low for another day or so, then follow up with another email if she heard
nothing. And if she never heard from Lexi again, then she would just have to
let it go.

Laura didn’t like what seeing Lexi had already done to her
focus. Finding out Lexi was involved had distracted her. She did not have the
liberty to get attached; it was a decision she made the minute she chose to
stay “dead” versus come out of the icy river injured, but alive that night. She
had to give up everything about being Sarah Castro-Tanner, including her
family.

Walking away from her parents was the easy part. Jim Castro and
Alice Tanner had been her enemies since they day they started putting her
through every single psychological screening under the sun. They couldn’t see
past the fact that she was quiet, uncomfortable, and antisocial to appreciate
that their daughter was a genius; they just saw everything wrong with her and
wanted a one-pill solution to make it right. Laura told herself that they
didn’t deserve to be her parents when she began to develop the original plan.
Plus, this was what they wanted all along: to not have to deal with her. But
Lexi was different.

As little girls, Lexi and Sarah existed in their own special
world together. The backyard was their domain and they would play until it was
too dark outside to see each other. There was Horses, Horses, the imaginary
dude ranch they ran; Just Dance Academy, the pretend studio where they spent
hours choreographing duets to N’Sync songs; and young Sarah’s favorite, The Two
Sisters Café
,
which served a wide variety of salads made from every
plant and weed in the yard.

Emotions had never come easily to her, but the thought of
hurting Lexi always stayed with Laura. When it came time to decide whether or
not to end her old life and return as this new persona, Lexi was the one and
only thing holding her back. In the end she decided that her sister would be
better off with her dead. Their parents would be happier, making Lexi’s world
easier, plus Laura knew that she would never be a good influence. Lexi deserved
better.

Laura still felt that way, but seeing Lexi desperately made
her want to tell her sister everything that she’d done to get to this point.
Not a single soul in the world knew that Laura Rivers was Sarah Castro-Tanner—not
the person she got the money from to make the transformation possible, not the
surgeon who built her an entirely new face, and certainly not anyone back in
Englewood, from the random old lady whose house Laura rented with a fake ID to
every single student at EHS. Laura knew that this whole plan would be worth it
someday, and someday soon, but she didn’t expect to feel so lonely at this
point in the process.

Maybe Laura Rivers’s first annual Friendsgiving Bash would
help with those blues. A house full of people who worshipped her easy, breezy
Cali-girl ways would be nice, and it would provide a reminder of one of the
most amazing things that becoming Laura had given her: reign over Charlie,
Amanda, Kit, and Miller. The party would solidify that fact. None of the old
EHS court was invited, which had to be a first in all four of their lives.