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Back The Copycat Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Chapter One
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Chapter Two
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Chapter Three
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Chapter Four
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Fourteen
  22. Chapter Five
  23. Fifteen
  24. Sixteen
  25. Chapter Six
  26. Seventeen
  27. Eighteen
  28. Nineteen
  29. Chapter Seven
  30. Twenty
  31. Twenty-One
  32. Twenty-Two
  33. Chapter Eight
  34. Twenty-Three
  35. Twenty-Four
  36. Twenty-Five
  37. Chapter Nine
  38. Twenty-Six
  39. Twenty-Seven
  40. Chapter Ten
  41. Twenty-Eight
  42. Twenty-Nine
  43. Thirty
  44. Thirty-One
  45. Chapter Eleven
  46. Thirty-Two
  47. Thirty-Three
  48. Thirty-Four
  49. Thirty-Five
  50. Chapter Twelve
  51. Thirty-Six
  52. Thirty-Seven
  53. Thirty-Eight
  54. Chapter Thirteen
  55. Thirty-Nine
  56. Forty
  57. Forty-One
  58. Forty-Two
  59. Chapter Fourteen
  60. Forty-Three
  61. Forty-Four
  62. Forty-Five
  63. Forty-Six
  64. Forty-Seven
  65. Chapter Fifteen
  66. The Following Summer
  67. About the Author
  68. About the Publisher

“I don’t have a phone,” said Ali. From the appalled look on Emily’s face, she might as well have told her she was a Copycat.

Emily eyed the phone in her hand. “Poor you! I couldn’t live without my phone! Tell your parents you need one. Everybody has one!”

There was no money for Ali to have a phone. “I can give you Gigi’s number.”

Emily, who had recovered from the shock of learning Ali was phoneless, smiled and typed Gigi’s number into her contacts. “Aren’t you glad Mr. Corby put us together?”

Ali was so glad she was on the verge of tears. The truth was, Ali’s friendships were fleeting. Over the years, there had been kids she was friendly with, but not true friends with, not friends you told your secrets to and had inside jokes with. Maybe she could have that with Emily.

“Mr. Corby is the best,” she said, and she meant it.

Chapter Eight

Predicting Fog Using Science

Meteorologists decry their inability to predict the onset of fog with any certainty or to determine its likely duration. If accurate predictions are ever achieved, they might well save many a seagoing vessel.

—PERCIVAL T. SLOANE,

A History of Fog in the Bay of Fundy (1932)

I always get lost in the fog.

—T

You have no sense of direction.

—D

Twenty-Three

Digger was silent during the drive home. Ali assumed he was angry she hadn’t told him about Gigi’s party. Should she broach the subject with him now, or wait until they got home? In the end, she decided to postpone the discussion, hopeful her mother would be enthusiastic and bring Digger around. But it was a miserable ride home, thanks to the fog that gnarled traffic so badly that what should have been a ten-minute drive took half an hour instead. To take her mind off her father, Ali passed the time daydreaming about the seals down at Tin Can Beach. Were they warm enough? How long would they stay? Would the sick seal be okay?

Her mother was in the kitchen making spaghetti when they arrived. “There you are! Why are you so late?”

“The traffic was a mess,” said Digger, dropping into a chair.

Ali’s mother gave Ali a fierce hug. “I’ve been worried about you all day. How did it go with Cassie?”

ALI’S RULES FOR NOT FREAKING OUT YOUR PARENTS

  1. Remain calm.
  2. Change the subject.
  3. Don’t tell them you were a mouse at school. Or if you do, make it seem MUCH less exciting than it actually was.

Digger started. It was clear that in all the commotion at Emily’s house, he’d forgotten about the situation with Cassie.

“Good, but she told a boy named Murray about me.”

Ali’s parents exchanged a panicked look. Her mother pointed to the kitchen table. “Sit. Tell us everything so we know what we’re dealing with.”