Replaced

Chapter 11

Logan's POV

...

I was alone again.

Roman left me to my business to go about with his own. But now, I didn't know what to do. I'd always praised myself on always having a plan of action. In my everyday life, I'd always had an answer.

When Roman and I escaped our lives and made new identities for ourselves, I was the one that kept my cool while Roman was barely avoiding falling apart. I took care of the hard work, and never complained. It was what I was good at, after all.

Now? I was at a loss for words.

I peek through window again, watching as my clone chats with my family. I had never seen my family look like that. Happy. Usually, they always seemed to succumb to the struggles of life; taxes, saving for my college, troubles at work or school. None of that seemed to matter to them anymore from what I could tell.

Waiting patiently, trying to wrap my mind around the situation, I try to think of a plan. Several had crossed through my mind before my clone finally bid my parents a good night, taking my sister upstairs to her own bedroom.

It's now or never.

Sneaking up to the door, I wait a few minutes after my parents leave to their bedroom for the night before I retrieve the spare key from under our planter. Trying my best to be as quiet as possible, I unlock the door. Closing it, I tip-toe through the kitchen towards the stairs, hoping to get in without being noticed.

"Hey Pat."

I whip around to see my father coming into the kitchen just as I was about to leave it. Oh no, am I caught?

"I was just coming out to have a cookie." My father smiled at me, more genuine than I'd normally see him give. "Don't tell your mother."

I just nod, shocked that my father didn't seem to notice that I wasn't my clone. This was the first time I'd talked with him since I've been back.

Sticking around in a moment of terror of being found out, I watch my father pull a Tupperware of cookies from a random cupboard I never knew held cookies. My father reached one out for me. "Want one?"

"No thank you." I shook my head. I thought my father knew I didn't like chocolate?

He just nodded and put it back in the container. After he closed it and put it away, my father did something that surprised me. He hugged me.

"You're so tense." He pulled away and felt my arms, looking me up and down. "Are you alright?"

Since when did he start asking me how I was?

"I'm alright, just tired." I backed away and went to leave the kitchen.

"Alright," my father accepted and went back in the direction of my parents' bedroom. "Goodnight, son."

What did my clone do?

Shaking my head to rid it of the concerns running through my thoughts, I walk up the set of stairs I hadn't walked up in months. Before this, I never would've considered myself nostalgic. After all, it was only a house.

Peaking done the hallway at the top of the stairs, I see that my sister's bedroom light was off, meaning she was already in bed. My bedroom light was on. I couldn't believe that my clone really has become a night owl.

Now that I thought of it, how the heck was I supposed to walk into my room and not have my clone scream for help? I really should have thought of this before I opened the door.

My clone looked up from where sat it on the bed, laptop sitting in its lap. I quietly shut the door behind me and held up my hands in a placating manner, but my clone understandably became defensive.

"Who are you?" It slid my laptop to the side and left my bed, inching away from me in an acute terror. I couldn't tell if it was moving closer to my desk for a weapon or to the window to escape. Fight or flight.

I kept my hands up, not trying to move closer to my clone to scare it further. "It is alright. I am not here to hurt you."

"Explain who... what you are..." It seemed to notice how similar we looked. "Or I'll call for my parents."

I put my hands down, nodding. "Fair enough. I will be straight with you, but know that everything I tell you is the honest truth."

Really? Why not just start to say the string of numbers to deactivate the clone? Well, it could call for help before I get to finish, and then my cover would be blown. Might as well explain.

My clone nods, still not making any moves to get any closer to me.

"My real name is Patton, and you are my clone," I state simply. "You have been living my life in my absence for the last few months."

It frowned as if that was the most absurd thing it had ever heard. Likely, it was. I'm not sure I would have believed something like that either, considering clones were a secret scientific innovation, one that had interested me immensely once I learned of it.

"Prove it."

I turn my head slightly, confused. "I'm sorry?"

My clone nods, crossing its arms. "Prove that you're me."

"Okay..." I tap the bottom of my glasses, pushing them a bit up my nose, a habit I had for when I was trying to think. A habit that Roman often made fun of me for. "How would you like me to prove it?"

"You have to tell my something only I would know."

I wait, looking around my room for any indications. I point at my messy desk next to the clone, frowning slightly at its disorganized state. "I got my desk from a yard sale down the street when I was... maybe about seven?"

My clone nods, confirming that it too remembered that. We do have the same memories. "What else?"

"I have an old typewriter in a red box under my bed." I point to the bed. "I had intended to fix it to try and make it usable, but never got the chance."

My clone's face dropped. "About that..."

My eyes go wide. "Please tell me you didn't get rid of it."

"Next question." It diverged the conversation away from the subject. It had better not have gotten rid of my typewriter. "Where did I go on vacation for my tenth birthday?"

I frown. "You expect me to remember that?"

"Disney World," it didn't seem convinced. "How do you forget Disney World?"

"Not my choice to go there," I explain, shrugging at the aghast expression on my clone's face. "My favorite was to Kennedy Space Center for my twelfth birthday."

The clone pinches its face in disgust. "You remember NASA over Disney?"

"I vaguely remember throwing up on a roller coaster there," I furrow my eyebrows at the disapproval, watching as my clone calms down enough to sit casually on my bed. "So, forgive me for not preferring that vacation."

"What's my locker combination?"

I join my clone on the bed, sitting on opposite sides like two girls at a sleepover or something. "4, 24, 19."

"First girl I ever kissed?"

"Trick question." I grin at my clone. "I've never kissed a girl."

My clone continued to think of questions, pulling a pillow into its lap. "Where do I have a scar?"

"Ankle." I pull my legs onto my bed and lift my pant leg to show the two-inch long scar on my ankle. The clone studied it, pulling its own leg out from its cross-legged position to compare them. They were exactly the same scars. "From a rusty trailer."

It shook its head, running a hand through its messy, longer-than-mine hair. "This is still crazy, but I think I believe you."