The principal's normally solemn face was unusually cheerful. "It's what I can do for you, Madame. And for your entire class. I would like to introduce you all to Serena Hancock, your new student teacher."
Madame was clearly taken aback. "Student teacher? I didn't request a student teacher, Mr. Jackson. We've never had a student teacher in this class."
The principal's face hardened slightly. "Well, you do now. And I would think you'd be grateful to have the help. Your students are supposedly gifted, isn't that right?"
Madame looked at him cautiously. "Yes."
"Well, Ms. Hancock has a gift, too. She can perform hypnosis."
To Amanda's eyes, Madame seemed alarmed now. "And why would my students need to be hypnotized?"
The principal shrugged. "Special children, special needs, special solutions. I'll leave Ms. Hancock with you now." And he left the room.
Along with the others, Amanda gazed at Ms. Hancock curiously. She was actually pretty impressed with this new addition to their classroom. Like most student teachers, Ms. Hancock was young, probably in her 20s. Unlike most student teachers, she looked very cool. She had long, thick blond hair that hung down her back in perfect waves and a scarlet mouth. Her dress was amazing-short, figure hugging, and printed in bold colors, turquoise and deep violet. Being a loyal reader of Teen Vogue, Amanda knew that turquoise and deep violet were very big this season.
"Please take a seat, Ms. Hancock," Madame commanded. "I'm sure you'll just want to observe today."
The younger woman smiled, revealing perfectly brilliant white teeth. "Thank you, Madame. But please, call me Serena." She turned to the students. "All of you can call me Serena."
Amanda could completely understand the startled expression that crossed Madame's face. No teachers, not even student teachers, were ever called by their first name at Meadowbrook.
Everyone watched as Serena took a seat at the back of the room. Then they turned back to Madame.
Amanda thought she looked flustered, as if she wasn't sure how to proceed. It was an odd expression for Madame-after only two classes, Amanda could tell that the teacher normally had an air of complete confidence. What was she worried about? Did she think she'd lose control of the class to a student teacher? No one ever paid much attention to student teachers.
Finally, Madame spoke again. "I think this is a good time to do some silent reading. I'm sure you've all got books with you. Please take them out now." She, too, went to her desk and opened a book.
This was very odd, Amanda thought. It was as if Madame didn't want to continue discussing their gifts in front of the student teacher. But surely the other teachers must know about the weird stuff these students could do? At least Mr. Jackson had to know about them-he was the principal! And surely he must have told this student teacher, Serena, before sending her into this room to work with these weirdos.
So why couldn't they go back to what they were talking about? If they did, maybe Amanda could finally learn what Tracey's gift was. Why was Madame suddenly acting like she wanted them all to be quiet? It seemed to her like Madame was always trying to protect them. But protect them from what-or from whom?
They didn't have to read for long. Moments later, the bell rang, and Madame dismissed them without even giving them homework to do for the next day.
Amanda gathered her books and walked out into the hall. She headed down the corridor toward her next class, and she didn't realize that Jenna was following her until Jenna whispered in her ear.
"You're not Tracey."
FOR ONE BRIEF MOMENT, Jenna thought she might have made a mistake. The reaction to her accusation was typical Tracey. The girl who now gazed back at her looked nervous, fearful, and almost ready to cry.
But any doubts in Jenna's head disappeared as "Tracey's". expression quickly changed. She stared right back at Jenna with a challenging look.
"You're crazy," the girl said. "Of course I'm Tracey. Who else could I be?"
This response only confirmed Jenna's suspicion. Tracey would never have been confrontational like that. "You're Amanda Beeson."
"I am not," she declared hotly, but Jenna didn't have to be a mind reader to see the panic in her eyes.
"Oh yes, you are. You're Little Miss I'm-Too-Cool-for-Words Amanda Beeson. I remember when you and your prissy friends called me a vampire. Huh-I wish! I would have drained your blood by now."
"You're disgusting and crazy," the girl-who-wasn't-Tracey's aid, and she turned away. Jenna grabbed her arm.
"Do your snotty friends know you're a body snatcher? What would they say if they found out you're gifted, like the other freaks in the class?"
"They'd never believe you!"
"Let's try it." Jenna looked around. "There's Sophie Greene-isn't she one of your friends?"
"And look who she's meeting at her locker," her classmate retorted. "Amanda Beeson."
Jenna's brow puckered as she watched Sophie and Amanda walk down the hall together. "I don't know who that is. Your clone, maybe. Or a robot. It's not Tracey, that's obvious. She looks too sure of herself." She looked at Amanda-Tracey appraisingly. "So you and Tracey didn't change places?"
"No. That's me and I'm me and I don't know how it works, but…" Amanda-Tracey's topped suddenly, and Jenna grinned.
"So it's true. I was just guessing, but you really are a body snatcher. I've heard of people like you, but I've never met one before."
She recognized the flash of anger on Amanda-Tracey's face. She'd seen it before once, in the cafeteria, when someone spilled orange juice on Amanda's white jeans.
"If you tell anyone," Amanda said, "if you dare, I'll-"
Jenna didn't give her the opportunity to complete her threat. "Don't worry, Amanda, I'm not going to tell anyone. Not yet. There's something I'm curious about, though. Why would you want to be Tracey?"
"Are you kidding? Do you think I want to be inside this creepy girl's body? It-it just happened. I was thinking about her, and then… poof!"
"Why were you thinking about her? I can't believe the great and wonderful Amanda Beeson gives a hoot about poor little Tracey Devon." Jenna was having a good time teasing Amanda. She'd never had this kind of encounter with a popular girl, and she had to admit it was fun, even if the popular girl didn't look like herself.
"Can't you just go away and mind your own business?" Amanda fumed.
"No. I want to know where Tracey is."
It was so weird to see a haughty expression on Tracey's face. Jenna had to keep reminding herself that behind the face was super snob Amanda Beeson.
"I don't know," Amanda finally admitted.
"You can't hear her thoughts or anything?"
"No."
Jenna felt a twinge of concern. "She's not… dead, is she? Did you kill her when you took over her body?"
"No!" Amanda exclaimed. She hesitated. "I mean, I don't think so." She bit her lip. "Wouldn't I feel it if there was someone dead inside me?"
"You don't feel her being alive, do you?"
"No." Amanda looked up at the hall clock. "The bell's about to ring. I don't want to be late for class."
"It doesn't matter," Jenna said. "Half the time no one sees Tracey anyway."