Doppelganger by David Stahler Jr. Page A

said again, laughing harder.
    â€œJesus Christ,” he said, getting up. He grabbed his plate and went back into the living room. Sheila sighed and shook her head.
    â€œSwimmingly,” Echo murmured, smiling down at her plate.
    â€œGod, Echo, would you just shut up,” Sheila said, slamming her fork down. Echo jumped at the noise, and I admit I did a little too. We watched as Sheila got up from the table with her plate, went over to the sink, and started doing the dishes, her face set hard.
    Echo and I finished eating dinner alone. Neither of us spoke until the end.
    â€œBy the way,” Echo said, “Amber did call. This afternoon.”
    â€œShe did?” I said, snapping to attention.
    â€œI tried to get you, but you wouldn’t open your door.”
    â€œSo what’d you do?”
    â€œI told her you were sick.”
    â€œWhat did she say?”
    â€œShe said ‘good.’”
    Â 
    As I lay in bed that night, I thought back over my first day as Chris Parker. To be honest, I was a little disappointed. Not so much with myself. Things hadn’t gone perfectly—or even swimmingly, for that matter—but I thought I’d held my own. It had more to do with Chris’s family. I know. Who was I to be disappointed in anybody? But as much as I hated killing Chris, a part of me had hoped to find a home, join a real family like the ones I’d seen on TV, even for a little while. Kind of sick, I guess. But the truth sometimes is.
    Problem was, I didn’t really like my new family, and they didn’t seem to like me. In fact, I didn’t think any of them liked each other. Lying there in bed, I looked out the window at the half-moon hanging in the sky. Maybe I should just leave , I thought. Why stick around? Part of me wanted to bolt. You don’t owe them anything . Get back on the road . But part of me knew it didn’t matter whether I owed them anything—I owed it to myself to stick it through, to challenge myself, like my mother would have wanted. So the Parkers aren’t your dream family, I could hear her say. Big deal. Life is full of disappointments. Suck it up.
    In the end I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Not for any high-minded reason or anything like that. I just didn’t havethe energy. It was funny—I didn’t go anywhere or do much of anything that first day, but for some reason I was exhausted. Maybe it was from more than just today. Maybe it was from everything that had happened the day before, or the week before, or ever since my mother kicked me out. Maybe it was my whole life.

C HAPTER F IVE
    Getting to school wasn’t too hard. I just stood out on the corner with a bunch of other kids my own age, and pretty soon a bus came by and picked us up. I was a little nervous when I first showed up and some of the kids started talking to me, but after a while I began to relax. It was kind of like a warm-up for the rest of the day.
    Some guy asked me where I was yesterday, and I told him I was sick. Another asked with what, and I said it was my stomach. And blahbitty, blahbitty, blah. It’s surprising how easy it is to fake it with most people, especially if they think you’re who you appear to be and don’t know any better. You just sort of keep your mouth shut for the most part, and spend the rest of the time agreeing with whatever the other person says. “You bet!” “You’re right!” “Totally!” People like it when you agree with them. And if anybody notices anything different about you, you just say something like, “I’m just really tired,” or “I don’t feel so hot today,” or “I think I’m coming down with something,” and people pretty much let it slide. Besides, most of the stuffpeople talk about is meaningless anyway. Any moron can talk.
    Pretty soon the bus dropped us off, and I found myself being ushered along with the crowd into a big brick