Jill Hathaway - Imposter

“But what?”

“But I don’t think I gave her directions. She just seemed to know where I live.”

Rollins digests this information. “Are you sure? You did hit your head in the accident, right? Maybe you forgot about telling her.”

“Maybe,” I say.

After getting off the phone with Rollins, I lie in bed with my eyes wide open for a long time.

he next morning, my phone buzzes with a text, waking me up. I glance at my alarm clock and realize I’m running late for school. Rollins will be here to pick me up any minute.

I peek at my phone. The text is from Rollins.

U AWAKE?

My thumbs fly over the keypad as I respond.

YEAH. BE READY IN 10.

Rollins texts back that he’ll see me soon. I pull on some jeans and slide the phone into my back pocket before heading downstairs. I find my father sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. “Do you have whiplash? Feel like you want to see a doctor?”

I grin. “I’m seeing one right now, silly.”

The anxiety in his eyes melts away, and he snorts. “Ha. But really. How does your head feel? Any dizziness? Nausea?”

Patting my father’s hand reassuringly, I say, “I’m fine. Promise.”

I sit down at the table, and my father pushes a glass of orange juice my way. I drink half of it in one long gulp.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I know you don’t want to go to a doctor, but if this is a new symptom, we should really get you checked out. We can’t have you sleepdriving at night. You could have been killed.”

Sleepdriving. Is that even a thing?

“I seriously think it was a fluke, Dad. But if it makes you feel better, you can lock me in my room at night.”

He rolls his eyes. “I might take you up on that. Now can you tell me where I might find my car?”

“It’s a little off Highway 6. About five miles south of town,” I say, remembering the road signs I encountered on my hike.

“Ugggggggggggggggggggggggh.” My sister shuffles into the room, looking even more disheveled than I feel this morning. She must have been having nightmares about dead girls again. “Thank God it’s Friday.” Mattie grabs a coffee cup and fills it to the brim. I look on with envy. Perhaps I could have just a little caffeine to get through today. I’m operating on about three hours of sleep.

But before I have a chance to act on my impulse, I hear a car pull into our driveway, the radio so loud I can hear the opening notes of a Chevelle song from where I sit.

“Rollins is here,” I tell my dad. I gulp the rest of my orange juice and stand up. “Are you riding with us today?” I ask Mattie.

She nods and takes another sip of coffee before dumping the rest down the sink. Something in me dies a little as I watch the black deliciousness swirl down the drain.

“You sure you’re okay, Vee?” my dad asks.

“Yeah. Totally fine. If I start to feel sick, I’ll go to the nurse. Okay?”

Reluctantly, he agrees. I swoop down to give him a quick kiss and then dart out the door with Mattie following close behind.

Rollins doesn’t even wait for me to fasten my seat belt before he starts in on me. “How are you this morning, Vee? Are you sure you should go to school?”

Mattie drops into the seat behind me. “Dude, why is everyone so concerned about you today?”

Rollins throws me a curious glance. “You didn’t tell her?”

I shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”

“What’s not a big deal?” Mattie asks. In the rearview mirror, I see her checking her cell phone. She’s obviously very worried about my well-being.

“Oh, nothing. I just totaled Dad’s car in the middle of the night.”

I probably shouldn’t get so much satisfaction from the shocked look my sister gives me. “What? How did that happen? Are you okay?”

Feeling sort of bad for springing my accident on Mattie, I turn around to face her. “Calm down, Matt. Look at me. I’m all in one piece.” I make a split-second decision not to tell her about the whole driving-while-sleeping thing and the bizarre encounter with the woman, because she looks so alarmed already. At least, I’ll stay quiet for now. “Don’t worry. It’s no big deal.”

When I turn to face the front, Rollins gives me a questioning look. I mouth the word later at him and then fiddle with the radio. He growls and swats my hand away. Melting back into my seat, I welcome the normalcy of the scene. Rollins, rocking out behind the wheel. Mattie, in the back, scrutinizing a text message on her phone.

Then there’s me, wondering if there was someone else in my head last night.

An impostor.

here’s a girl waiting for Rollins at his locker. She’s curvy with black, choppy hair and a tattoo that runs the full length of her right arm. As we come near, I let my gaze trace over the tattoo. It’s full color and totally gorgeous, a depiction of Alice from Alice in Wonderland chasing the white rabbit. The girl’s eyes light up when she sees Rollins.

“Aw, hey.” Rollins gives the girl a hug. Jealousy prickles up my spine. He turns toward me. “Vee, this is Anna. She’s been training me at the radio station.”

I lift my face to hers and somehow manage a smile. The most distinctive feature of Anna’s face is her eyes, which are the most startling purple color with eyelashes that seem to go on for miles. I wonder if she’s wearing contacts because I’ve never seen eyes that color before. She’s wearing a lacy baby-doll dress over rainbow-striped tights and combat boots.

She is everything that I am not.

Suddenly I start to feel sick, remembering the song Rollins played last night. I’d kind of assumed he was thinking of me when he played it. But what if, the whole time Dave Grohl was singing, Rollins had been staring at this beautiful girl? The thought is so uncomfortable, I banish it from my mind. I am the one he loves. He told me as much that night he rescued me from the fire. True, that was six months ago, but still—could his feelings have changed that much?

“Hi, Vee,” Anna says, holding out her hand to shake mine. I pump perhaps too vigorously and then feel like an idiot.

“Hello,” I say. “Cool tattoo.”

Can she hear the envy in my voice?

She touches her arm gently. “Thanks. The artist is a good friend of mine. If you ever want to get a tat, let me know. I can get you a special deal.”

Rollins laughs. “I don’t think Vee is exactly a tattoo kind of girl.”

I scowl at him. “I like tattoos. Why would you think I’m not into them?” I turn to Anna. “I used to have pink hair, you know. I only recently dyed it back because . . . because I was bored with it.”

I don’t know why I said that. I guess it’s because I feel out of place somehow. Anna and Rollins just look like they belong together with their piercings and tattoos. And then there’s me . . . former preppy cheerleader turned narcoleptic slider.

Anna nods politely. “Well, Rollins, I’ll catch you tomorrow night if I don’t see you before then.” She disappears into the crowd.

I stuff my hands into my pockets so Rollins won’t see how my fingernails are digging into my palms. “She seems nice,” I say in a strained voice.

“Oh, yeah. She’s really cool. Knows her music, too.”

“Oh.” I don’t dare say anything else, in case the jealousy I’m feeling will come through in my words. How can I be feeling jealous? This is Rollins, my best friend. Of course he can have another friend. He should have other friends. I’m so ridiculous sometimes.