Impostor (16 page)

Chapter Thirty

I
jump off the couch and run into the front entryway. Mattie walks in, looking pale. Rollins follows close behind, holding her elbow to steady her. From the looks on both their faces, I’m pretty sure Rollins already broke the news about Scotch’s death.

“We’ll be up in my room,” I call to my father.

The three of us climb the stairs and shuffle wordlessly into my bedroom. I lock the door behind us and then turn to face Mattie, who sinks onto my bed. Rollins sits in the rocking chair, looking nervous.

“What did Regina have to say?” I ask.

Mattie shakes her head. “No one was home.”

“Matt, I have to tell you something.”

“Rollins already told me about Scotch,” Mattie replies. Her eyes are slightly glazed.

“It’s something else,” I say gently. “Something about me. I’ve been keeping a secret from you,” I say.

Mattie’s forehead wrinkles. “What is it?”

Clearing my throat, I try to think of the best way to explain. Mattie was so young when all of this started. I don’t know if she even remembers those days when I first started passing out. Or the fight I had with my father when he wouldn’t believe what was really happening to me and he decided to send me to a shrink.

“Okay. I know you were young, but do you remember when I told Dad that something strange was happening to me when I passed out?”

Mattie shakes her head.

“I don’t have narcolepsy. When I pass out, I go somewhere else. It just depends on what I’m touching at the time. Say I’m touching Dad’s watch. That means I’ll slide into Dad and see through his eyes, whatever he’s doing. Only it can’t just be any item. It has to be something that’s important to the person. Something they’ve emotionally imprinted on.”

“I don’t understand,” she says. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s true. And the weirdest part is that I’ve learned how to control it. I can take over a person’s brain and make them do things, say things. I can
control
them.”

“What are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath, I tell myself it’s okay. I knew this was going to be hard. Mattie will have to see it to believe it.

I pull open the bottom drawer of my dresser and search through the things I’ve accumulated over the past few months, the things that allow me to slide. I grab the Smashing Pumpkins T-shirt Rollins gave to me last fall. He left an emotional imprint on it that allowed me to slide into him a few times. When I explained about my ability and that I saw his miserable home life through his eyes, he accused me of invading his privacy. Since then, I’ve never slid into Rollins again.

Not until now.

I hold the shirt up to Rollins, a question in my eyes. His face tightens, but then he nods. It’s the only way for me to convince Mattie. I have to demonstrate my power. With the T-shirt crumpled in my hands, I sit next to Mattie on the bed.

“I know it’s confusing. Just watch, though.”

I arrange myself so I’m lying on my bed, cradling the T-shirt against my chest. I think back to the day Rollins gave me the shirt, how happy I was. I’d wanted it for such a long time. I was confused the first time I slid into Rollins because I didn’t understand why he would be emotionally attached to a gift for me. He’d kept his feelings for me a secret. But now I know, and it feels strange to slide into him, almost intimate.

My perspective shifts. I am in the same room, but seeing through Rollins’s eyes. He is still sitting in the rocking chair, facing my bed. Mattie is gaping at my unconscious form, which is sprawled out with the Smashing Pumpkins T-shirt.

“Mattie,” I whisper. “It’s me.”

Mattie looks at Rollins, confused, like she’s not sure what he’s talking about. I need to give her some evidence to prove that it’s really me.

“It’s me. Sylvia.” I rack my brain, trying to think of some obscure piece of trivia about Mattie that only I, her sister, would know. “All right, how about this? I know that you threw up in Matthew Baker’s hair in the second grade. You were so embarrassed because you had the biggest crush on him.”

Mattie’s face scrunches. “Why are you guys playing tricks on me at a time like this? It isn’t funny!”

“Shhhhhhhh,” I say, getting out of the chair and going over to her. “It’s not a trick. It’s really me.”

She glares. “You guys are sick.”

“Look. How about this? You ask me a question, something no one else could know. Something only I would know.”

“Something Vee would know?”

“Exactly.”

Mattie looks down. I see her face change. When she raises her head, I see a challenge in her eyes. “Before Mom died, what did she give me to remember her by?”

Yes. This is something I know.
“She gave you that necklace,” I say, pointing. “You never take it off because you’re afraid that if you do, you’ll forget her completely.”

I can see the tears in Mattie’s eyes, threatening to spill. She comes close to me and studies my face intently. “Vee?”

My face breaks into a grin. “You got it!”

She throws her arms around me—well, Rollins, really. I can feel her breath, hot in my ear. “It’s true then. It’s really true.”

“Of course it’s true. Did you think I was lying?”

And then she really is crying, her whole body shaking against me. “It’s just that—I thought . . . I thought I was going crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.”

“I didn’t know what was happening to me . . .” Mattie says, her voice breaking. “I was having such weird dreams. And then things were happening. My dreams were coming true.”

Now it’s my turn to be baffled.

“What are you talking about?” I say, pushing her back so I can see her face. She is crying freely now, and I can hardly make out her words.

“First there was that car accident. And I thought it was just a coincidence. But then I dreamed of Lookout Point, and I thought there was something really wrong with me.”

I grab hold of her face and make her look at me. “Slow down. Tell me everything.”

She gasps for air. I wait for her to catch her breath. Then she speaks. “Vee, I was there the night that Scotch fell.”

I take a step back, covering my mouth. “What?”

She starts to cry. “What do you call it, sliding? I can do it, too.”

My knees buckle, and I sink to the floor. She collapses next to me, and we sit there, clutching each other.

She explains how it started a few months ago. She was having strange dreams that she was other people, doing ordinary, mundane things. She dreamed of my father brushing his teeth. She dreamed of me, taking notes in English class. The dreams were strangely vivid, but she didn’t think anything of them until the night I got into a car accident.

That night, she dreamed she woke up in my room. The radio was on, so she turned it off. She went down to the kitchen and stared at the moon through the window for a long time. Then she had a crazy idea. The dream was so real, and she was able to control it. She decided to test it out. That’s when she went into the garage and started my father’s car. She took it for a long ride, and then the dream ended abruptly.

I shiver as she tells the story. So well I remember that night, waking up in a car that was racing down the road. I thought it was my nightmare about Zane, so I yanked the wheel. And realized it wasn’t a dream. Someone slid into me and made me steal my dad’s car.

It was my sister.

Mattie goes on. Next she describes sliding into my father. It was late, and he was in the living room, gazing at old pictures of our family from when our mother was still alive. Mattie felt a rage plow through her, a rage that my father refused to get past our mother’s death. He kept letting his grief get in the way of really being there for us. So she grabbed our parents’ wedding portrait and threw it on the floor. She kept grabbing pictures and smashing them everywhere. Then I appeared in the doorway, and all the anger fell away, and she slid back into her own body.

“And then there was Lookout Point.”

Mattie takes a deep breath and explains what happened the night of Scotch’s accident. She fell asleep while waiting for me, and then she found herself standing in the middle of the woods. She was confused, but she saw two beams of light shining through the trees. When she stumbled into the clearing, she saw such a beautiful vision. It was all sky, and the night was so clear that she could make out all the stars. She was filled with a deep happiness, a feeling that she was connected to everyone and everything.

“But then someone grabbed me. I turned around, and I saw that it was Scotch. I was so scared. I felt myself start to slip away. I was falling to the ground. But before I left, I heard Scotch yell, ‘Get off me!’”

I stare at Mattie.

“Someone else was there, Vee. Someone
did
push Scotch.”

What the hell?

“Who?” I ask.

Mattie shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

Frustrated, I stand up and start pacing around. I’m not used to Rollins’s body, though, and I stub my toe on the rocking chair. I decide it’s time to slide back into my own body.

Mattie sits on the bed and watches as I leave Rollins sitting in the rocking chair. When I am myself again, I open my eyes and see him stretching his arms over his head.

“That was weird,” he says. “It was like I was floating above you guys. But everything was black. I could kind of hear you, but not really.”

“Well, you missed a lot,” I say. As I explain that Mattie was the one who slid into me and caused me to crash my father’s car, Rollins’s eyes grow large.

“You’re effing kidding me.”

“And she was in my body the night that Scotch fell. I mean, the night he was pushed—”

Mattie interrupts me. “Someone else was there. I mean, physically there. Someone pushed him off that cliff. I just didn’t see who it was.”

I flip through the possible suspects in my mind. Could it have been Lydia? Maybe it was Diane . . . ? If it was either of them, they must have driven to Lookout Point. Maybe Samantha or Regina saw a car and forgot to mention it.

“Hey, Mattie, why don’t you try calling Regina again?” I suggest.

Chapter Thirty-One

M
attie taps the pink fingernails of one hand against her skirt as she holds the phone to her ear with the other. I hear a faint ringtone. Then there’s a clicking noise, and Mattie’s face lights up.

“Regina? Hello, Regina?”

Mattie squints and then puts the phone down. “It’s like she answered and then hung up.”

“Try again,” I say, irritated. We don’t have time for games.

Mattie dials Regina’s number again, and we all wait.

This time I hear a shriek on the other end of the line, and Mattie pulls the device away from her ear. Regina is yelling something, but I can’t make out the words. Cautiously, Mattie brings the phone closer. “Slow down, Regina. I don’t know what you’re saying. What’s wrong?”

Mattie listens for a moment.

Regina screams something else, and then there’s silence.

“Could you make out anything she said?” I ask.

Mattie shakes her head. “Something about Samantha, that we need to go to Samantha’s house. What do you think is going on?”

I yank my purple hoodie out of my closet and pull it on. “I don’t know. Rollins, can you drive?”

“Of course.”

I take a deep breath and zip up my jacket. “Let’s go.”

After I unlock my door, we move into the hallway. Mattie’s door is still closed. For a moment, I pause, listening to see if I can hear any movement in Mattie’s room, but there is nothing. I wonder if Lydia has gone to sleep, and start to feel relieved, but then I realize a closed door isn’t going to stop Lydia. If she can slide, all she needs is an item with an emotional imprint to get out of that room.

“Come on, we’ve got to hurry,” I say under my breath. I move quickly down the stairs, with Mattie and Rollins right behind me.

My father is in his study with the door open. He’s reading some medical article online.

“Hey, Dad?” Mattie says, entering the room. “We’re going to Samantha’s house, okay?”

“Be home by dinnertime,” he replies.

“Will do.”

I pull open the front door. The three of us run across the lawn and jump into Rollins’s car. As soon as Mattie and I are buckled in, he backs out of the driveway. Mattie directs him toward Samantha’s new house.

“What do you think is going on?” he asks.

I’ve been wondering the same thing. Samantha was unusually quiet last night after we got Regina’s text that Scotch had woken up. I know she’s furious at Regina for hanging around the hospital. I hope we get to her house before she does anything stupid.

We pull into the parking lot, and Rollins finds a spot not far from Samantha’s front door. As soon as Rollins kills the ignition, I rush out of the car. I try the doorknob, but it’s locked. I start pounding on the door. “Regina? Sam, are you in there?”

No one answers.

We hear glass breaking somewhere inside.

A girl screams.

“Get back, Vee,” Rollins says gruffly.

I take a step backward and stumble over a shrub. Mattie grabs my arm to steady me.

Rollins rams the door with his shoulder. It doesn’t give. He tries again, this time moving back enough to give himself a running start. There’s a huge crack, and the door flies open. He takes a step inside, and I follow.

There’s a flight of stairs leading up.

Someone is crying. I think it’s Sam, but that’s crazy. Sam never cries.

Rollins takes the steps two at a time. Mattie and I are close behind. When we reach the living room, we see Regina and Samantha. They’re both sobbing. Startled, Samantha turns toward us. That’s when I see the gun in her hands.

I freeze, stunned.

Samantha has a wild look in her eyes. She’s still in her pajamas, but she looks like she hasn’t slept in days. Her hands tremble, and I pray that she won’t accidentally pull the trigger.

“What the hell, Samantha?” I cry. “What’s going on?”

Rollins tries to stand in front of me and Mattie. I feel Mattie grab my arm and squeeze tightly. I reciprocate.

Regina collapses onto the floor. “Samantha killed Scotch,” Regina wails. “And now she’s going to kill me.”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Sam yells, swiveling and pointing the gun at Regina.

I take a step forward, hoping I can distract Samantha from whatever craziness she has going on in her head. “What’s Regina talking about?” I ask. “Is she telling the truth?”

Samantha looks in my direction. Her eyes are not the eyes of a cold-blooded killer. She wears the expression of a frightened child.

I know Samantha.

For the longest time, she was my best friend. Practically my only friend.

She’s not capable of murder.

Is she?

“What happened, Samantha?”

Not knowing where to point the gun, Samantha settles for a point between me and Regina. Rollins tries to pull me behind him, but I push his hand away.

Samantha shakes her head, tears and snot running down her face. “I had to do it,” she whispers.

“Do what?”

“He wasn’t supposed to wake up.”

I try to process her words. It’s hard to believe that Samantha was so afraid that Scotch would reveal our prank that she would kill him. “What did you think he would say, Samantha?”

“Oh, I knew he’d tell the police. He already told Regina.”

Regina moans. She tries to crawl behind the sofa, but Samantha turns the gun back toward her, and she stops in her tracks.

“Scotch told Regina what?” My heart is hammering in my chest.

“That I pushed him that night at Lookout Point,” Samantha says.

All is quiet as her confession washes over me.

“It was you?”

“Yes,” she replies, her voice cracking.

“But why?”

She looks up at me pleadingly. “I did it for you, Vee. When you didn’t come back right away, I started getting nervous. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to handle Scotch on your own. We both know what he was capable of. So I came to see what was going on. You and Scotch were wrestling with each other at the edge of the cliff. And . . . I pushed him.”

I stare at her with wide eyes.

She pushed Scotch? For
me
?

“I just kept thinking about Homecoming,” Samantha says. “How I stood there and watched him drag you away. And I didn’t do anything. I couldn’t let him hurt you again.”

“Samantha,” I say, reaching toward her. Rollins keeps me from going any farther.

“I’m so tired,” Samantha says, squeezing her eyes shut. Her head lolls against her chest. “I just want to go to sleep.”

While Samantha’s head is down, Rollins breaks away from me and Mattie and circles the room, moving closer to Samantha. His muscles tense, and I think he’s going to jump on her.

“Don’t,” I say.

Samantha’s head snaps up. When she sees that Rollins is only a few feet away from her, she raises the gun in his direction.

“No!” I scream.

Confused, she turns toward me.

Rollins uses that moment to lunge at her. He pushes her onto the floor. The gun flies out of her hand and bounces on the white carpet.

A deafening sound.

I crouch down, covering my ears with my hands.

Mattie screams.

I straighten up and see Mattie pointing at Rollins. He’s next to Samantha, who is crying quietly on the floor.

“Rollins? Rollins, are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer.

I kick the gun far away from Samantha and run to Rollins’s side. Grabbing his arm, I flip him over so he’s facing me. His eyes are open. He doesn’t look like he’s breathing.

“Rollins, talk to me.”

I throw open his leather jacket, looking for the wound. A red stain is blooming from the top of his right shoulder. There’s so much blood. I pull off my hoodie and press it to Rollins’s chest.

No, no. This can’t be happening.

Regina is on the phone. I hear her talking, but I can’t make sense of the words. Mattie has her hand over her mouth.

I drop my mouth to Rollins’s ear.

Two words.

“Don’t go.”