"Replica04 - Perfect Girls - Kaye, Marilyn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kaye Marilyn)

Amy turned to Tasha. "Come with me?"
"Okay."
Eric, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable in his jacket and tie, remained with his parents while Amy and Tasha went to the table. They waited as a smiling woman spoke to another contestant and located her tag.
Jeanine was there, too, talking animatedly with a girl whose name tag read SARAH MILLER, NORMAN, OKLAHOMA. The tag was useful, since Jeanine didn't bother to make introductions. But as Amy collected her own name tag, Jeanine actually spoke to them.
"I'm learning about the best places to shop in New York," she told them. "There's an area called SoHo that's supposed to be awesome, right?" She turned to the Oklahoma girl for confirmation.
"It's the trendiest part of New York," Sarah Miller confirmed. "I'm going there tomorrow afternoon. You want to come?"
"Absolutely!" Jeanine declared. Sarah turned to Amy and Tasha.
"How about you guys?"
"No, thanks," Tasha said. "I'm going to the Museum of Modern Art tomorrow."
Jeanine brushed that notion away. "Oh, that's a waste of time. You can see plenty of modern art in Los Angeles." She looked at Amy. "Amy, wouldn't you rather come shopping with us?"
"No thanks," Amy said. She tugged at Tasha's arm, and they started back toward where they'd left the Morgans.
"I can't believe Jeanine asked us to go," Tasha said.
Amy shrugged. "Maybe she was trying to impress Sarah with what a nice person she is."
"She's a pretty good actress," Tasha commented. "She sounded like she actually wanted you to come with them."
Amy grinned. "Probably because she was sure I'd say no. She knows I'd rather spend my time with you. Even if that does mean going to a hundred and twenty museums."
"Okay, okay," Tasha said, relenting. "We can go shopping, too." She looked back at Jeanine. "I hope she gets to be real buddy-buddy with that girl Sarah. Then maybe we won't see her all week. Hey, if we're really lucky, maybe she'll even want to eat dinner with her."
But the tables were assigned, so Jeanine was with them. She was still acting happy and excited, too. She was sitting next to Eric, which was probably good for her mood.
Jeanine never gave up, Tasha mused. She'd been coming on to Eric for over a month now. Eric hadn't given her any encouragement, but even so, Jeanine never missed a chance to flirt. She probably couldn't accept the fact that a boy existed on the face of the earth who wasn't interested in her.
Thank goodness Eric was immune to her charms. Tasha could remember how shocked—no, horrified—she'd been when Jeanine first started asking her about Eric, talking about how cute he was and whether he had a girlfriend. Then Tasha reminded herself that she hadn't been too thrilled when she realized Amy had a romantic interest in Eric too.
That was different, though. Amy was her best friend; they'd been best friends forever. Other friends said "AmyandTasha" as if they were one person, and Eric had never been part of the equation before. When they were younger, he had been the enemy, or someone they just ignored. But they were growing up, and the battles they'd fought in the past were kids' stuff.
Tasha glanced at Amy, sitting on Eric's other side. The first course, a creamy soup, was being served, but Amy didn't even notice. She was busy looking into Eric's eyes, listening to whatever he was saying. Amazing, how puberty could change people.
Amy more than anyone else. How many people hit puberty and discovered that they had superior powers? Only Amy . . . and her eleven replicas, of course.
"Earth to Tasha, come in, Tasha," her father said.
"Sorry, I was daydreaming," Tasha said.
"Eat your soup while it's hot," Mr. Morgan instructed her. "It's delicious."
But the soup would have to wait. A voice boomed out from the head table. "Good evening, boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen." Everyone turned to face Mr. Drexel. "Welcome to the third annual National Essay Competition. It's a pleasure to see so many intelligent and talented young people gathered together. We're very happy that you're here, and we hope you have a wonderful week. I won't bore you with a long and tedious speech now. I'll save that for later."
He paused to allow the audience a moment to enjoy his little joke. Then he continued. "I know that all you young people are nervous and excited. But don't let anxiety ruin your opportunity to enjoy New York. And remember, even though only one person can win this competition, the fact that you're here means you're all exceptional, and that means you're all winners. Now, enjoy your dinner."
There was a scattering of applause, and everyone returned to their soup. Jeanine addressed Tasha with a particularly disgusting smirk. "Don't be depressed, Tasha. Maybe you'll make it to the finals next year."
"I didn't even enter this competition, Jeanine," Tasha said.
"But I thought you wanted to be a writer," Jeanine went on.
Tasha didn't want to lose her temper. She spoke through clenched teeth. "I am a writer. I'm a junior reporter for The Parkside Journal, remember? Didn't you see my article about the movie that was filmed at school?"
"No."
Liar, Tasha thought. Everyone had commented on how fabulous the article was, and lots of kids had been thrilled to see their names in a real newspaper. Tasha was very proud of the article.
It hadn't been easy to write. She'd been forced to leave out the most exciting bit—how the actress playing the lead had turned out to be another Amy. An Amy clone. That was something only Tasha, Amy, and Eric knew. Tasha tried to exchange a private look with her best friend, but Amy was staring at her soup.
"Amy, your soup will get cold," Mr. Morgan noted.
"She's probably too nervous to eat," Jeanine remarked.
This roused Amy a little. "I'm not nervous," she said. "I just—I don't like this soup."
"Really?" Tasha was surprised. "It's good. It's got mushrooms in it, and you love mushrooms."
"I do?" Amy said vaguely. She dipped her spoon into the soup and took another sip. Her nose wrinkled.
Eric had almost finished his. "Hey, if you don't want it, I'll take it."
"Okay," Amy murmured. But as she started to push the soup toward him, she knocked the bowl and some of it spilled out.
"Amy, your skirt!" Tasha cried out.
Amy looked down at the wet spot on her lap, but she didn't move or say anything.
"Why don't you go to the rest room and wipe it off before it stains?" Mrs. Morgan suggested.
Amy started to rise. "Excuse me . . ." She began to sway. Eric leaped out of his seat and caught her.
"Amy!" Tasha shrieked.
Eric was holding Amy up, but her eyes were closed and her head had rolled over to one side. "Mom, Dad, I think she's fainted!" he cried out in a panic.
The Morgans rushed over. Carefully they helped Eric lower Amy to the carpeted floor. "Amy! Amy!" Mrs. Morgan called out, but there was no response. Tasha knelt on the floor next to her.
"Stand back—give her room to breathe," Mr. Morgan ordered everyone.
By now, others in the ballroom had noticed the disruption. A man ran over to them. "I'm a doctor. What's happened?"