Doppelganger (excerpt)

Chapter 1: The Doppelganger

Chapter 1: The Doppelganger

 I knew it was going to be a bad day when I woke up just as my first period English class was starting. It was totally unlike me to be this late, ever. I was usually the good kid, always on time, always prepared. Last night, though, I had stayed up way too late reading The Hunger Games. It was that good and books were my one vice and besides, I wanted to find out what happened to Katniss and Peeta. I loved to read and when a book got good, everything else went to hell. Yeah, I was a bookworm and I loved it. Now, I was probably going to get detention for tardiness and I’ve never gotten detention. Ever. It was going to be just one of those days. I knew it.

 My mom was working the early shift at the hospital. She was a nurse. My dad had left us when I was five, so he wasn't in the picture anymore. I barely ever saw him. He lived across the country in Portland, Oregon and had remarried with no kids. Still, he was just too busy with his own life, it seemed, to make time for me. I'd grown to be okay with that, although it was really hard when I was five. Regardless, all this meant that nobody was at home to drive me to school. Normally, I liked having the time to myself. I read and ate breakfast and somehow managed to get ready in time to make the bus despite it all. Those mornings were perfect and quiet and spent thinking about the book I was reading and what was going to happen to the characters next.

 On the mornings she was home and not working at the hospital, my mom tended to ask a lot of questions about school and boys and life over breakfast. There was no time for reading - it was interrogation time and it drove me totally insane. I just wanted to wake up in the mornings, maybe read and eat something. Not answer fifty questions. Besides, there was never anything new to tell. I didn’t have a boyfriend. My grades were good. That was pretty much the extent of my life at the moment. I was the quiet girl, so my social life was really kind of lame. I mean, my friend Olivia and I hung out all the time and watched movies and went to the mall, but that was the extent of it. I know it's boring to most people. I was totally fine with that, though. Olivia and I had a lot of fun hanging out. Plus, from all the teen movies I had seen and the books I had read, nobody liked real life high school anyway.

 Since I had now missed the bus and my mom was at work, I knew I had to make my own way to school. My old bike was in the garage. Riding my bike was definitely not the way to show up to school in style, but it was going to have to do. It was only a two mile bike ride to the high school. It wasn’t going to be fun, but at least it was only fall and in Illinois that wasn’t so terrible. Plus, at least it wasn’t snowing or raining or a billion degrees and humid. It was mostly just leaves turning colors and falling and that was actually kind of pretty and I loved the smell of the cold, crisp air.

 I grabbed my books and a breakfast bar and pulled my bike out of the garage. I had no idea where my old bike lock was, so hopefully nobody would steal my ancient bike at school, not that I ever rode it anymore anyway, so it wouldn’t be that big of a loss. It was so junior high to ride a bike. Besides, I had just turned sixteen and had my license. It was way cooler to drive, if only I had my own car. One day. I was dreaming about a sleek blue convertible - the kind that would be perfect in a place like California, but my car would probably end up being an old Honda Civic. That was cool. It was still a car that could take me wherever I wanted to go without having to borrow the car keys or worse, my mom having to drop me off. I mean, as long as it didn't break down. That was one of my worst fears - being stranded, alone and without help on some highway in the middle of nowhere, where your cell phone didn't work. That was terrifying.

 I pedaled down my street on my bike, dreaming of my one-day car. I wondered if I'd get one before high school was out and I went to college. I hoped so. I wanted to drive to school my senior year. I pedaled on and on. The leaves were starting to change color and I probably should have paid more attention to the beautiful ride, but I had to think about my history test. I had World History second period and we had a big test. I had studied a little for it last night, but I was still running dates and practice questions through my mind. I probably should have studied harder. It was just that I had been dying to get back to The Hunger Games and finish it.The second book was sitting in my bag burning a hole in it and waiting for me to crack it open. I couldn't, though. I had to keep studying and going over questions in my head. I hoped that I wasn’t about to flunk because of my reading problem. That would be sort of ironic, right? I didn't study because I was reading. I was every teacher's dream student, except that I wasn't reading my history textbook.