“What do you mean?”
“It’s just…you had been talking about Laura for a while. She got into Harvard and you didn’t, and I knew that really upset you. And then you found out you did get in, which is obviously awesome, but that’s a lot of ups and downs for one person in a short period of time. I’m just wondering if you…did anything about it. Like maybe you stole the scarf? Or, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just asking you to explain.”
I scoffed and shook my head. I walked over to the door and opened it. “You don’t just get to come in here and accuse me ofthings, Eunjin. Besides, I have an event to go to, and now I think it’s time for you to leave.”
—
Once I was alone inmy room again, I thought about my conversation with Eunjin. She knew about the scarf; did that mean she also suspected me of killing Laura? Maybe deep down she did, but the truth would be so devastating that she wouldn’t be able to admit it to herself. I didn’t think Eunjin would turn me in, even if she did think that I was guilty. And even if she did turn me in, the only evidence she could provide was that I was wearing Laura’s scarf. The scarf didn’t prove anything. Maybe Laura just lost it one day, and I happened to be the one to find it.
I took two swigs from a bottle of vodka that I kept in my mini fridge. My hands were no longer trembling. I turned back to the mirror and started to redo my makeup. I had a meet-up to go to.
TWENTY-THREE
I arrived right at 8:00p.m., the official start time for the event. Jason had called ahead to reserve tables near the back of the dive bar. There were a few people chatting on the stools by the bar and more congregating by the four-tops near the entrance, but none of them appeared to be the future Harvard lawyers I was here to meet. None of them appeared to be 99th percentile people.
Earlier, I had messaged Jason from Laura’s account to say that I wouldn’t be able to make it tonight because I wasn’t feeling well. When I approached the back of the bar, I recognized Jason right away, but I reminded myself to pretend like I didn’t know who he was. I still couldn’t help but beam at the sight of him, another 99th percentile person to save me from a bar filled with mediocrity. Of course, I meant 99th percentile in terms of worldly potential and success, not necessarily looks. He was shorter than I had imagined but had a better face than what I’d seen in the photos. Otherwise, he was exactly what I expected—that signature sharp, eager look in his eyes that was a key feature of every overachiever. I knew I had it too.
I walked up to him and introduced myself.
“It’s awesome to meet you!” he said. He told me that I was the first to arrive. There was the hint of a lisp in his voice. Maybe that’s what he wrote about in his law school application. Maybe that’s what made himinteresting.
Jason had convinced Harvard Law School to send over some merch for the get-together. He set out the goodies on the table. There were T-shirts, all extra-large, some mini notebooks, markers, and name tags. I stuffed one of the T-shirts in my bag. I was about to write “Laura” on my name tag before I remembered that I wasn’t impersonating Laura anymore. I was Elizabeth. I had already written the “L,” so I added two horizontal lines to turn it into an “E.”
It was a bit awkward with just Jason and me at the table, so I excused myself to the bathroom. I took out Laura’s scarf from my tote bag and wrapped it around my neck. I closed my eyes to silently manifest all of my plans seamlessly coming into fruition. I didn’t really believe in manifesting but I believed that I needed all the help that I could get. I, Elizabeth, did not intrinsically have the confidence and grace that others did, but maybe I could channel Laura and borrow some of hers. My manifestation seemed to work. When I opened my eyes, I found myself naturally emulating her mannerisms—the gentle flip of her hair, the readjusting of her scarf, the way she lowered the pitch of her voice when speaking about a topic she deemed important. I found myself also starting to think like Laura. Who at the event would be someone important for me to know?
By the time I returned from the bathroom, more people hadarrived. My social mannerisms were more graceful, more polished than they had ever been in my entire life. I remembered everyone’s names even without looking at their name tags, I came up with a personal connection to each person’s hometown, I made jokes and laughed at other people’s jokes. An hour into the event, while nursing my second espresso martini, I was blanketed by a heartening realization: They liked me. They all really liked me. It must’ve been the effect of Laura’s essence guiding me through my motions. I wondered if this was what it’d be like to live like Laura all the time.
At around 9:00 p.m., a young woman with sharply layered blonde hair and long, wispy eyelashes walked in. We collectively turned our heads to watch as she strolled toward our table. I recognized her as the Harvard undergraduate I had looked up earlier. Her name was Antigone, like the daughter of Oedipus from those Sophocles tragedies I had to read freshman year. It was one of the names that you’d only give your kid if you had at least studied a bit of Greek, if you were cultured. You don’t see anyone in South Dakota naming their kid Antigone.
Unlike Jason, she looked even better in person. She told us that she would be taking a gap year to work for an NGO in Southeast Asia, but came to our meet-up because she happened to be in the city this weekend. A varsity tennis player, Antigone was one of those people who was so much better than me that I wasn’t bothered by it at all. It was just a fact of life. It would be like envying an A-list celebrity—a waste of energy in a world where there would literally always be someone better than you. I took my rightful place as an admirer. I reminded myself to look up more information about her later. But then again, maybe if I continued channeling Laura, I stood a chance at being her friend.Not someone she would treat as an equal, but perhaps she’d offer me the opportunity to at least be a hanger-on, a fan she was willing to keep close by.
Jason and a few other people introduced themselves to Antigone. She nodded and smiled with her movie-star teeth. Jason suggested that we take turns introducing ourselves and sharing a fun fact. Unsurprisingly, his fun fact was that he was going backpacking in South America. Antigone shared that she was named after a lost play by Euripides (not the Sophocles one) and that usually she just went by Anni. When it was my turn, I said that I went to Mallorca the past summer break. As we continued going around the circle, I caught Antigone eyeing me from time to time. I was flattered by her attention. Maybe I was doing such a good job of embodying Laura’s privilege and confidence that she had clocked me as a potential member of her posse.
After we finished our fun facts, the conversation shifted to the professors we wanted to impress for clerkships and the drama that took place with the board of last year’s review. Then there was a lull in the conversation, and I noticed Antigone hesitating before she finally asked the question that was on her mind.
“Hey, Elizabeth,” she said. I raised my eyebrows and smiled. “You said you’re currently at Columbia, right?”
I nodded. “That’s right.”
“Sorry, maybe this is weird, but my blockmate works at Harvard Law’s admin office part-time.” She took a sip of her drink with a self-deprecating smile, as though she had just committed a minor faux pas that she would brush over by acknowledging outright. “Oops, ‘blockmate’ is what we at Harvard call roommates—I forget sometimes that not everyone knows that.” She set her drink down. “Anyway, my blockmate mentioned to me last nightthat there was only one person from Columbia attending the law school this year.”
“Well, then I guess you’ve met the one!” Jason said.
“Well, no,” Antigone said, clearing her throat. “Because the one person who was accepted was someone named Laura Kim.”
“Oh.” Jason furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s weird. You’re right. I’ve been talking to Laura for a while now and she did mention she’s a senior at Columbia.”
“Well,” Antigone said. I knew what she was going to say before she said it. I felt like she had trapped me in a cellar and I could hear the door closing and the clink of the key as she threw it away. “What’s even stranger is that Laura Kim actually died a few weeks ago.”
Everyone was looking at Antigone now, uttering things like “That’s so fucking creepy” and “What the fuck?” She nonchalantly ran a hand through her hair, then folded her arms.
“She was murdered by one of her classmates. In her dorm.”
“Oh my god, yes! I heard about this.”
“Holy shit, I never made the connection.”
Jason looked petrified, as though he had just witnessed the murder firsthand. “But…who was I talking to the entire time, then?”
