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The room’s enormous. Probably twice the size of my room back home. Again, it’s surprisingly light and airy with a large seated picture window overlooking the grounds outside and framed by pale blue gauzy curtains. There’s also a row of skylights in the roof, through which I can see the rare blue sky and mid-October sun.
The walls are painted a pale silvery grey with flecks of silver which shimmer and reflect the light. The carpet’s the same silvery grey and so thick and deep I want to roll around in it. The muted tones of pale grey, blue and white give the room a luxurious feel, especially with all the rose gold accessories. It’s perfect. Lizzie would’ve absolutely adored this room. I feel like it could be her room back home, and it comforts me.
To the right is a living area with a small grey two-seater sofa, wall-mounted TV and a good-sized desk and chair set. I spy a mini-fridge with a clear glass front under the counter stocked with snacks and bottled water. On the walls are large picture frames that hang empty waiting to be filled, I guess with whatever I want. There are leafy green plants in all shapes and sizes dotted everywhere around the room in rose gold planters, which I adore.
To the left is the biggest double bed I’ve ever seen - I seriously think I might need a stepping stool to get into it - covered in blue and grey blankets and cushions. It has to be a super king-size, at least. It looks so sumptuous, I feel like I could sleep for days in it. On either side of the bed are two grey trunks with rose gold fittings stacked upon each other, serving as bedside tables. Tasteful bedside lamps rest on top. I’m awestruck by the style and opulence of the room. It’s way nicer than I expected - even from Lizzie’s description.
On either side of the bed, there are white doors, and I motion to them. “Where do those go?” I ask Michael.
“One’s a wardrobe, and the other’s your en suite.”
My eyes widen in surprise, but before I can move towards either door to explore, Michael interrupts me.
“Charlotte-,” I whip around to face Michael, my eyes wide with horror.
“Michael! You can’t call me that! Ever!” Panic floods my veins, an ice-bath wake-up call. “Even in private, you have to keep up appearances so that you don’t slip up in public.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry, Raven.” He emphasises my new name this time, looking contrite. “You just look so much like Lizzie, it’s unreal.”
I pull a face at that. “I’m supposed to be unrecognisable! This is going to be a disaster if the first person I meet can see through me to her!”
“Don’t worry,” he hastily back-pedals. “It’s just because I was so close to your sister, and I knew her so well that I can see the similarities. Plus, I knew you were coming, no one else even knows you exist, so they won’t be looking. I promise, no one else will.”
I grumble and glower at him, barely placated, kick off my shoes and take a seat cross-legged on the bed. I do have to kind of scramble to get up onto it. I motion for him to do the same and he plops down effortlessly opposite me in the same pose. Michael, of course, has no problem whatsoever getting onto the bed. Stupid short girl problems. He’s really staring at me now that we’re in private, and although it makes me uncomfortable, I figure it’s only fair as I did a thorough job of checking him out downstairs too. Not like, checking him out, just looking him over. Ugh. Not my type.
“It’s so good to finally meet you. Lizzie talked about you non-stop. Well, to me anyway. To everyone else she was quiet and pretty much kept to herself, I think. No one even knew she had a sister.” He pauses here like he’s thinking about how it would be best to continue. “I feel like we got to know one another quite well through our letters last year.” I nod in agreement: it’s true, I do feel like I’ve gotten to know Michael quite well since Lizzie’s death. We’ve been pen pals for over a year now, and he’s been helping me learn about the school in preparation for my enrolment. Michael was Lizzie’s best friend at this school, so I figured, if anyone can give me the inside scoop on what to expect and how to target those on my list, it’s him.
“You know, your disguise is flawless, it really is, but you’re going to have a real problem when you don your swimming cap and can’t wear all that makeup in the pool. I think you’d look identical then. The game could very quickly be up.”
I smile at him, shrug, and play my first card. “I have special dispensation to skip swim elective because I already swam for county. I don’t compete, so they can’t use me on the swim team, and they definitely can’t teach me anything in swim class, so I get a free pass.”
“Wow! That’s brilliant. What will you do for that session instead?”
“I have an outside Krav Maga tutor coming in to train with me.”
“Huh. Krab what?” I giggle at his confused expression and explain.
“Krav Maga: It’s a self-defence and fighting system developed by the Israeli special forces. It basically encompasses a range of martial arts and fighting styles, including hand to hand and knife combat.”
Michael’s eyes are wide with awe and respect. And maybe a little fear? I laugh, playing my second card with a falsely sweet smile, “Yeah, I’m lethal with a knife.”
“Wow okay.” Clearly flummoxed by my admission, he doesn’t know where to go now. “Shall we go over your schedule?”
“In a minute. Tell me where we’re at with the plan?”
“Right. So, as you know, Lizzie was being bullied by a bunch of the kids here.” I shudder at his use of the term kids: it makes them seem childlike and innocent when I know that what they’ve done is anything but. No, they need to be held accountable for their actions, but I don’t interrupt him. “While we know some of the people who were involved - namely the popular kids who rule the school - you know from Lizzie’s journal the specifics.” I nod. It’s true. Lizzie kept the bullying close to her chest, revealing very little to me until after her death. Her revelation came several weeks after her supposed suicide in the form of an encrypted journal. I figured Michael, as her best friend here, should know more, but so far he’s been very tight-lipped about the whole thing. It’s okay, I don’t entirely trust him yet either, so I haven’t given too much away. Her final cryptic letter to me gave me the starting point I need to reveal the truth, so here I am. Although I would’ve come anyway, and she knew it.
There’s no way my twin killed herself. I’m going to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on and uncover the truth. I’m taking down the people responsible for her death, even if I have to burn the whole school down as collateral.
“My gut tells me we need to focus on the five most popular girls. They’re the princesses of the school, and I doubt anything goes down without their say-so. I’ve started pranking some of them - nothing too bad, just low-level stuff - so that your arrival and plans wouldn’t coincide with events and draw suspicion your way. People don’t tend to go against them.”
I start at that, shocked. “Wow Michael, you didn’t have to do that.” A warm fuzzy feeling spreads across my chest. Gratitude.
“I wanted to. Lizzie was my best friend. I absolutely adored her. More than that, I lo-,” he shakes his head but doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t need to. I could see in the way he wrote about her and now in the way he looks at me that he was utterly in love with her. I hope it won’t be a problem. “I should’ve helped her.” He continues, “So, this is how I’ll atone. I know it won’t bring her back, but this is something I need to do. Whatever it takes, I’m in.” He looks so earnest, so sweet that my heart melts a little for him. There’s no way I can fully involve this thoughtful guy in what I have planned, but an ally is very welcome indeed. We can work together until the time comes to end it all. I won’t involve him in that. His pranks are cute, but they’re no way near enough to make up for what they put Lizzie through.
I smile at him instead. “Okay, tell me all about what you’ve done and who you’ve hit.”
Michael gives me the Crib’s notes version of a Who’s Who at West Prep, some of which we’d already covered in our letters before he regales me with stories of how he’s pranked the most popular girls in the school. From sneaking in to apple-pie all of their bedsheets (old school - love it!) to locking the queen bee, Tilly, in a janitor’s closet. He did that after accidentally catching her making out in there with a guy who wasn’t her boyfriend. Then he made sure the whole school, including her boyfriend, was there when the door was finally unlocked. Humiliating for her, but not as humiliating as the very public break up that followed as her boyfriend dumped her sorry cheating ass.
