Chapter 6: Bargains and Revelations

The restaurant was one of those college-town places—dim lighting, sticky tables, the air thick with the smell of curly fries and chatter. I tried to focus on Casey’s stories, but my mind kept drifting back to Matt.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we saw an old acquaintance: Savannah. She sat to the right of the president, smiling sweetly. The president raised a glass to welcome the new members.

Casey, always hot-tempered, was about to explode, but I pressed her leg under the table. She swallowed her words.

I just wanted to keep things civil. Everyone at the table knew about me, Matt, and Savannah. They looked from me to her. Someone finally asked the president, "Didn’t registration end long ago? How did she get in?"

Savannah’s smile froze. Though someone else asked, she glared at me as if I’d set her up.

The president tried to smooth things over. "Savannah’s really interested in our club. Let’s make her feel welcome."

Everyone raised their glasses, but it was half-hearted—no one clinked with her, just sipped their drinks. The vibe was tense.

Near the end, Savannah called Matt, acting all sweet: "I’m almost done here, can you come pick me up?" Whatever he said, she insisted, "No, Matt, I want you to come."

She hung up, shooting me a smug look.

Afterward, Casey asked if I wanted to quit the club. I didn’t think I should. If anyone should feel guilty and leave, it wasn’t me.

When we left, Matt was already waiting outside. He must have come because Savannah insisted. As Casey and I walked out, he leaned against the wall, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He looked thinner, shadows under his eyes. He glanced at me, then looked away. Savannah ran up and grabbed his arm, but he frowned and shook her off.

His eyes met mine for a brief second. There was a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or just exhaustion. I wanted to reach out, but I didn’t.

Savannah started showing up everywhere I went. Besides the climbing club, I liked studying in the library on Tuesday and Friday nights, and volunteering at the senior center on weekends. I enjoyed talking with the elderly; their wisdom and calmness were comforting.

There was something grounding about those weekend mornings at the senior center, listening to Mr. Parker talk about his days in the Navy or helping Mrs. Jenkins organize her photo albums. For a few hours, I could forget about campus drama and just be useful.

After running into Savannah too many times, even Casey noticed something was off. She asked, "Erin, don’t you think Savannah has been watching and copying you?"

She imitated my style, my routines, my hobbies. It was as if she wanted to become me—to get something she lacked. The only thing I could think of was Matt.

I started noticing the little things—how she wore her hair the same way I did, started carrying the same kind of tote bag, even ordered my favorite drink at the campus coffee shop. It was creepy, honestly.