A zillion thoughts raced through my head — all urging me to flee. But sitting on a toilet with my jeans bunched around my ankles wasn’t exactly a position for a quick getaway. The door was already hanging a little askew from her kick. I didn’t think it would survive another.
“Who’s there?” I called out, standing and pulling up my jeans.
“You know,” she growled.
“No, I don’t!”
“Stop lying.”
“I’m not!” I cried. “What do you want from me?”
“Come find out,” she said ominously.
“I don’t want any trouble.”
“Too late.”
Her tone boiled with fury — and even though I tried not to freak out, I was scared. How could I get away? She blocked the only way out of the room. What if she had a gun or knife? All I had was my purse and its assorted, non-lethal items.
Think, think! I urged myself. In the hundreds of self-help books I’d read, what advice would help protect me from a psycho enemy? My brain blanked. She wouldn’t really try to kill me … would she? I could only see her shoes and a slash of red hair through the gaps around the door. What if she attacked me? Would anyone hear my screams?
“Why did you follow me here?” I tried to sound calm, but my hands shook as I zipped my jeans. “What did I ever do to you?”
“How can you even ask that?” Her voice rose hysterically. “You ruined everything … but it ends now. Open the door.”
Uh huh. No way. Not on my life — literally.
But I couldn’t stay in a locked bathroom forever, so what was I going to do?
I was considering crawling underneath into the next stall when I heard sweet sounds — footsteps and the jiggle of the door knob.
Someone was coming into the room!
“Why is it so dark?” I heard Sadie say before she cried, “Hey, what the—!”
There was a slap of sneakers and a gasp.
“Watch where you’re going! What’s your problem?” Sadie swore as the red-haired girl bumped into her. There was a groan, then the sharp bang of the door slamming. “Rayah? Rayah!” Her voice rose. “Are you in here?”
I nodded, then realized she couldn’t see me through the stall door and called out in a shaky whisper, “Y-Yes.”
“Why are the lights off? Must have been that bitch.” She flipped the light on. “Are you okay?”
“I am now.” I sucked in a deep breath, then took a step forward on shaky legs, hooking my purse strap on my arm and unlatching the door.
“What the hell is going on?” Sadie rubbed her shoulder, flipping her braid away from her reddened face. “Did you see that freaking girl who smashed into me?”
“I couldn’t see much of anything.”
“Damn girl pushed me into the wall and then ran out of here … hey! Why are you hugging me?”
It was impossible to explain right then; my emotions were racing to catch up with my thoughts. I was confused about what had happened and afraid to know what might have happened if Sadie hadn’t showed up. Sadie may have just saved my life.
“You’re trembling.” Sadie studied my face. “What’s going on? That girl was familiar, like I’ve seen her around campus. Do you know her?”
“Not her name — but she’s the same redheaded girl who glared at me in the campus parking lot. Thank God you showed up because she sounded crazy, like she was about to get violent.”
“No shit!” Sadie did a double-take. “So why are we just standing around? Shouldn’t we tell someone?”
“You mean the police?”
“Well … maybe not that drastic.” Sadie hesitated, a thoughtful look flitting across her face. “I mean, you weren’t attacked, I didn’t get a good look at the girl, and you don’t even know her name. The police couldn’t do anything.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking how risky being questioned would be when I wouldn’t be able to answer routine questions about myself.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I’ve never seen you so scared. Not even when you got that threatening note—” She broke off with a choked cry. “The stalker! Could it be the redhead?”
“I think so,” I admitted as I turned on the sink faucet, feeling oddly comforted by the rushing sound of water as I washed my hands. “She must go to our college. Are you positive you didn’t recognize her?”
“It was too quick and dark.” Sadie ripped off a paper towel and handed it to me.
“Thanks.” I wiped my hands. “I won’t forget what she looks like and I’ll be careful not to let her trap me again. I can’t believe she followed us all the way here. I don’t even know who she is.”
“Well, she obviously knows you. Probably the girlfriend of some guy you hit on — it wouldn’t be the first time you pissed off some chick.” Sadie giggled. “Like when you were sucking face with Bryanna’s fiancé at her engagement party.”
“Can we not talk about my past? I’d rather get out of here and far away from that psycho girl. And I could really use your phone.”
“I understand.” She handed the phone over, then held my arm gently as she led me out of the restroom.
It was surreal how ordinary the gas station’s food mart seemed after my short moments of hell. People walked up and down the aisles, absorbed in choosing candy bars and other trivial items. I spotted Warren over by the hot-food area, squirting mustard on a corndog. He arched his brows in curiosity when Sadie called out that we were going to wait by the car.
When I stepped outside, I tensed and looked around for red hair. Logically, I knew the psycho girl wouldn’t be dumb enough to wait around. She was probably miles away by now. But if she was obsessed enough to follow me hundreds of miles, she wouldn’t give up that easily. She could still be lurking in one of the many parked cars — waiting for another chance to get me alone.
“She’s gone,” Sadie assured me, guessing my thoughts. She opened the back car door for me. “Talking to James will make you feel better. I’ll get us some burgers — no onions, with cheese, right?”
“Uh, fine. Thanks,” I told her. Of course I had no intention of calling James.
With the door shut, the outside noises of cars and trucks faded to calming silence. Lifting the phone, I rejoiced to have a signal.
“Eli, it’s me,” I said as soon as I heard his voice.
“Amber!” Relief, fear, shock merged in this one word.
I found myself smiling despite everything. “It’s great to hear my real name.”
“Why didn’t you call sooner? I’ve been freaking worried. Where are you?”
“A gas station outside of L.A. I couldn’t call until now because we were driving through hills and I couldn’t get a signal.”
“So what’s been happening?”
“Insanity!” I shook my head wearily. “Remember that stalker I told you about? She trapped me in a bathroom.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Sadie startled her and she ran off. I still have no idea who she is.” I sagged against the car seat. “How can I protect myself when I don’t know why she hates me?”
“It’s not you she hates,” Eli said angrily. “I love my sister but she’s the one who has enemies. Just get out of there and come home.”
“Not until I finish my assignment,” I insisted. “Grammy trusted me and I don’t want to let her down. I could work faster if I had the GEM.”
“I’ll get it for you,” he promised.
“Is that bi … Katelyn still helping you?”
“Yeah, Katelyn’s been great. She’s talking to the resident manager, trying to get a key to Shari’s room.”
I scowled. “That’s so sweet of her.”
“She’s totally cool,” Eli said, totally not getting my sarcasm. “I found out why she hates you … I mean, Sharayah.”
“Let me guess — because of some guy?”
“How’d you know?”
“I’m getting to know your sister … too well.”
“Unfortunately, I know what you mean.” His voice ached with misery. “Sharayah has changed so much, in all the wrong ways. When Katelyn was talking about her, it was like she was describing a stranger. Katelyn and Shari got along at first — until Katelyn went out with this guy and he only wanted to talk about my sister. Katelyn was disappointed but thought it was only fair to let Shari know this guy liked her. Only instead of being grateful, my sister flipped out, swearing and shouting at Katelyn.”
“Why?” I asked, surprised.
“I have no idea — and neither does Katelyn. They haven’t spoken since then.”
An idea struck me. “What if the guy was Gabe? We know they were going out, but they must have broken up because Rayah isn’t dating him anymore.”
“Except the guy Katelyn went out with was named Caleb.”
I frowned, confusion mounting as I added Who is Caleb? to the mental list of questions I would ask the GEM.
Eli seemed to guess what I was thinking because he reassured me he’d keep trying to get the GEM. “If I can’t get someone into the room legally, I’ll pick the lock — I think I can do it thanks to tips from your friend Dustin.”
“You talked with him? Great! I was going to suggest that before Mauve grabbed the phone out of my hands.”
“He asked about you, too, and when I told him you were in my sister’s body, he wasn’t even surprised.”
“You told him?” I said, biting my lip as I thought of the Nine Divine Rules.
“I thought it was okay since you’re such good friends.”
“Well, it’s okay with me — but I’m not so sure about Grammy.”
“Your dead grandmother?” he asked in a tone that showed he was still getting used to my experiences with the other side.
“Telling anyone about being a Temp Lifer is against rules. I shouldn’t have told you,” I admitted. “But I’m glad I did. And I’m glad Dustin knows, too.”
“He has your back a thousand percent. He was ready to drive all the way here even though we could get arrested for breaking into a girl’s dorm.”
“It wouldn’t be his first arrest. Dust is proud of the handcuff scar he got from his first time resisting arrest.” My anxiety eased with my laugh. I told Eli how Dustin thrived on political challenges and believed freedom could only come from chaos. “I don’t always agree with him,” I added fondly, “but I love him like a brother.”
“Technically I’m your brother now,” Eli said wryly.
“You don’t feel like a brother to me.”
“Yeah, but hearing your voice, I keep thinking — that’s my sister.”
“Only on the outside.”
“I know … Still, it’ll be weird seeing you.”
“Way weird.” I paused, wondering what kind of contact was allowed between siblings. Could I hold his hand? Hug him? Give him a “sisterly” kiss on the cheek? Damn, this was going to be so awkward. If talking to him made my hands sweat and my heart pound, what would happen when we were face-to-face?
Before I could discuss any of this, he told me someone was at the door.
“No worry,” he said a moment later. “It’s only Katelyn.”
“Oh, goodie,” I said not-so-happily.
“She’s grinning like she has good news.”
“Oh?” I asked with new interest.
“She’s waving a key. Got to go!”
There was a click and the dial tone.
Damn. What was going on with him? Sure, he got the key and that was good. But not so good was how excited he’d sounded about seeing Katelyn. He hadn’t even said good-bye. My emotions were live wires, sparking inside of me and short-circuiting my logical thinking ability. I wasn’t jealous. That would be ridiculous. But he was with her, not me, and that made me a little crazy. What I really needed was to talk. Not to just anyone, either, but to my BFF. I’d always told Alyce everything and going for so long without talking to her felt wrong. Like half of me was missing. She already knew that I had a habit of changing bodies, so she wouldn’t freak out if I told her what was going on. Sure, it would mean more rule-breaking, but I never kept anything from Alyce.
Only when I called, her mother answered.
“Who is this?” Mrs. Perfetti asked in her typical clipped, irritated tone.
A simple yet impossible question to answer.
“I’m … um … Harmony Furrson.” This was the name we gave to the pet hamster I’d had when I was seven. “I sit behind Alyce in algebra and need homework advice.”
I added the part about algebra because (a) it was true — I did sit behind her in algebra and I hoped Alyce would pick up on that hint, and (b) her mother was militant when it came to homework, even locking Alyce in her room until she finished her assignments.
“Alyce doesn’t have homework over spring vacation,” her mother said coolly.
“It’s extra credit work.”
“Then it can wait till school resumes.”
“But it can’t wait — I really need to talk with her.”
“Sorry. Alyce is unavailable.” Then she hung up.
What was this? Hang up on Amber day? I wanted to call Alyce back but knew her mother never backed down when she got into one of her moods. So I dialed Dustin’s number — which wasn’t even breaking GEM rules since Eli had already told him about my body-swap.
When Dustin realized who I was, he whooped like I was Publishers Clearing House calling with a million-dollar offer.
“I was going to visit your body in the hospital but this is much better,” he said. “How’s everything going?”
“Better since I figured out what I’m supposed to do in this body.”
“What?”
“Make Sharayah a singing star.”
“Big job! How are you going to accomplish that?”
“By finding an audition or contest that she — I mean, I — can enter, that happens soon and is close to Venice Beach. Can you help?”
“Already on it.” I visualized him swiveling in his chair in front of several monitors. He didn’t have a bed in his bedroom, preferring a couch with a sleeping bag, conserving his minimal space for maximum strategizing. He called his room his “Headquarters.” He was as passionate about his quest for justice as he was with offering help to a friend.
His online search narrowed down the listings to open auditions for amateur singers in the Los Angeles area. He came up with five possibilities, but only two of them would be held soon. One had such a high entrance fee I was sure it was a scam. But the competition for Voice Choice, a new cable reality show similar to American Idol, was perfect. An open audition would be held in Beverly Hills in two days. Singers had to be amateurs, eighteen to twenty-nine years old with no professional experience — so totally Sharayah.
This was why my grandmother had chosen me for this assignment.
And I wouldn’t let her down.
Sure, I had a few obstacles like getting to Beverly Hills, making the finals, wowing the judges and winning the grand-prize singing contract — all while avoiding Dark Lifers and a psycho redhead.
But when I finished, Sharayah would be famous.
And for a brief moment, I would be, too.