Dead Girl in Love (5 page)

At first I wasn’t too worried because it was normal for her to periodically shut everyone out, saying she was taking a “mentalscape” (her combination of the words “mental” and “escape.”) Although sometimes I sensed a sadness in her that was beyond my reach … like last Father’s Day, when I invited her to come along with my family to a movie and she made a snarky comment about sappy movies making her barf. Or when the freshman boy I’d welcomed with a Halsey Hospitality basket asked me to the Valentine’s Dance, and no one asked her. The guy was too young for me even if I’d been interested, so I’d skipped the dance and invited Alyce to sleep over at my house. We’d had a great time, but I’d noticed whenever the topic of the dance came up, Alyce changed the subject.

During our last phone conversation, she’d been unusually stressed and sounded like she was crying—something she never did—as if her heart were breaking. If she had a boyfriend, this would make sense, but there wasn’t any guy, unless she had a secret crush that I didn’t—

A burst of music interrupted my thoughts.

Alyce’s phone.

Glancing at the caller ID, I almost burst into song myself.

“Eli!” I cried as I cradled the phone to my ear.

“Amber? Is it really you?”

“Yes. But I know I sound like Alyce.”

“You already told me … well, your grandmother did.” He sounded tired as he explained that he’d called “Amber” first and thought I’d answered, but the more he talked to me, the more he realized something was wrong. When he’d accused Grammy of being a Temp Lifer imposter, she’d been surprised enough to admit the truth.

“Ooh, Grammy is a rule breaker,” I said, smiling as I leaned back against black-laced pillows on Alyce’s bed. “I broke rules when I told you about my last TL assignment and didn’t want to do it again. Grammy did it for me this time, bless her.”

Eli laughed—a sound so nice and wonderful.

“So what’s it like being Alyce?” he asked.

“Weird.”

“Weird freaky or weird interesting?”

“Both. She’s taller than me and her hair is so long that I sit on it if I don’t remember to push it back. And living with Mrs. Perfetti is even weirder.” I told him about having to cook dinner, which made him laugh again.

“At least no one died of food poisoning,” he joked.

“Your confidence in me is underwhelming.”

“I’m just being honest—a trait I appreciate more than ever now that I’m living in the land of the fake and the famous.”

“Already tired of being a big Hollywood star?”

“I’m not a star.” His chuckle sounded tired. “This isn’t
American Idol
. It’s only shown on a cable channel that most people have never watched.”

“But you’re doing really well and might win. How cool is that?”

“It’s okay.” He said this casually, but underneath I could tell he was proud. “But if you need me, I’ll ditch it all and come home right now.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, warmed by his offer. “You stay there and have fun singing. If you win, I can be your entertainment agent.”

“You’d be great at it, but I’m not superstar material. This isn’t the career I imagined,” he admitted. “I’m more the guy who works in accounting or engineering, not the one standing on a stage with girls screaming my name like I was a rock star. Can you believe this little girl no older than ten pulled off my shoe?”

I laughed. “I hope your sock was clean.”

“You could try being a little sympathetic.”

“I could, but it wouldn’t be as fun.”

“This isn’t all fun, you know. My schedule is insane with almost no time for sleeping. It’s hard, too, being here without any friends or family.”

“Isn’t your sister still there?”

“Sharayah offered to stay but I knew she’d have more fun spending the rest of spring break with her friends, so I told her to go.”

Just the other day I’d
been
Sharayah. My brain buzzed with questions about what had happened to her after I left her body—but those could wait.

“My competitors are great and we get along fine,” Eli added. “Still, it’s not the same as when you were here. I miss you, Amber.”

“I feel the same way. It’s hard being in the wrong body without the people I care about.”

“I know what you mean. The loneliest place is when I’m in a crowd of strangers and I’d rather just be with you.”

I warmed deliciously from head to polished black toe nails. “I’d rather be with you, too. I don’t know why I volunteered to be a Temp Lifer.”

“Because you care about people. You really helped my sister and you’ll help Alyce, too.”

“I want to, but I don’t know what’s going on with Alyce. She’s been doing some odd stuff.”

“Considering she drapes herself in black and photographs gravestones, being odd is her normal. And I don’t mean that in a bad way,” he added quickly, as if worried I’d misunderstand. “I respect anyone who does their own thing and doesn’t care what anyone thinks.”

“But maybe she does care,” I pointed out. “I keep thinking how upset she was the last time we talked. I hate myself for brushing her off.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. You had things going on, too, but now you’re helping out. Alyce couldn’t have a better friend. I should go.” Eli yawned. “They have me in a room with three other guys and they’ll be back soon. We have a photo shoot on the beach at six a.m. I have to pose like I’m surfing even though I’ve never surfed. It’s going to be another crazy day.”

“The perils of fame,” I said teasingly. “When will you be home?”

“If I get eliminated in the next round, I’ll be at school on Monday.”

I pressed my lips tight so I wouldn’t confess how I secretly hoped he’d be eliminated. I shouldn’t be so selfish. “I hope you win,” I told him.

“I’m not sure what I want. Winning would be cool, but it would mean missing school and going on a road tour.”

“You’ll get more of an education living life than studying about it.”
But I may die from missing you too much
, I thought.

“I’d rather be with you.”

“I feel the same way.”

“And it’s more than … well, Amber, I—”

“You what?” I asked breathlessly.

“That I … Amber, I think maybe … well … I love you.”

He spoke with such sincerity that tears blurred my eyes. I said those words back, and suddenly we were both talking excitedly, sharing thoughts and feelings and dreams. After a while, with the reluctance of a million aching hearts, I let him go.

Back to his Hollywood world of fame and fans.

To ward off self-pity, I kept replaying his “I love you” in my head. We’d only been together a few weeks and had never even kissed (at least not when I was in my real body), but I wanted to be with him so much. I could imagine his face and feel his touch. No denying it any longer—what I felt for Eli was like a giant blanket holding me warm and tight.

Love, love, love! His words had wings that flew me to a place happier than anywhere I’d ever been. I wanted to soak in his memory, lather myself in the hopes for our future, and sink into dreams for all the amazing things we’d do together. Once I returned to my real body, going out in public would be great, but staying in would be even better. We’d be a real couple, holding hands at school and sharing lunch and whispering sappy things just because we could. We’d talk, touch, and share until we were practically the same person.

This wonderful, fabulous, beyond-heaven emotion was too amazing to keep to myself. Love was the whole meaning of everything—the reason to breathe, a universal fabric uniting humanity, a solution to all the problems in the world. I only wished everyone I knew could feel this way, too.

Of course! I thought with a snap of my fingers. That was it!

The GEM said Alyce’s crisis was “love.” Maybe she was worried that I’d be too busy with Eli and she’d be left out. That wouldn’t happen, of course, but Alyce had kept her feelings to herself without giving me a chance to reassure her. She didn’t have many friends—maybe some casual “hey, how you doing?” friends in her classes, but only two real friends: Dustin and me.

What Alyce needed was a special someone all her own.

A boyfriend.

I could hardly sleep that night thinking up ways to introduce Alyce to L-O-V-E.

No hooking her up with a random guy. He’d have to be someone really amazing, who accepted her unique style and wasn’t easily intimidated by difficult mothers. He also needed to get along with Eli and me, too, so we could go on double dates.

Finding The Perfect Guy for Alyce would not be easy.

But I was up for the challenge, tossing and turning with whirling thoughts. I thought about the advice of a self-help book I had called
Perfecting the Art of Perfection.
The book advised accepting your imperfections; you’re only limited by your own expectations, so aim for the best. Still, none of my books offered practical methods for matchmaking, and I wondered if I should stop by a bookstore to search for one. Finally, at 5:20 a.m., I gave in to restlessness and got up.

Remembering how annoyed I’d been when Grammy wore the wrong kind of clothes for my body, I was true to Alyce’s creative spirit and slipped on a black ankle-length jacket over a dark-brown shirt, mid-length skirt, and knee-high, lace-up boots. As I turned toward the window to pick up Monkey Bag, my gaze drifted down to the front yard—to the driveway.

Something was wrong … and then it hit me.

Stupid, stupid! Why hadn’t I noticed last night that there was only one car in the Perfetti driveway? And it wasn’t Alyce’s piece-of-crap dented station wagon.

Alyce bought her junker car after winning a local photography contest. She thrived on complaining that the car drank gas and made noises that sounded like farts, the tires were almost tread bare, and the crack in the side window looked like a smiling skeleton. Alyce really loved her car.

So where was it?

Unfortunately, I could guess the answer. Damn and double damn.

Alyce must have driven her car to Green Briar but parked it out of sight, which was why I didn’t spot it. I needed to get Junkmobile back before her mother woke up and saw that it was missing.

But when I tried to call Grammy at my real house, I got an automated voice asking me to leave a message. So I tried a different number.

“Amber?” Dustin answered right away. Even at this insane hour of the morning, Dustin was manning his “Headquarters.” I heard the hum of computers and a soft jingle from the keys he had dangling from his ceiling. He worked part-time for a locksmith and had a hobby of collecting unusual keys.

“Yeah, I’m still Alyce.”

“What do you need?”

“I don’t only call when I need something,” I argued.

“So you’re just calling to say good morning?”

“That, too. And I need a ride.”

“Right now?”

“Please,” I said with exaggerated sweetness.

“I haven’t even eaten breakfast yet.”

“You never eat breakfast.”

“That’s beside the point. I might have plans and leaving could be really inconvenient. You know, I do have a life too,” he pointed out.

“I do know. But I thrive on adding drama to it.”

“True. Should I thank you?”

“A ride would be enough.”

“What’s the hurry?”

“I think Alyce left her car near Green Briar and I need to get it before it’s (a) stolen (b) towed away or (c) mistaken for garbage and hauled off to the dump.”

He groaned. “Amber, sometimes you make me crazy.”

“Only sometimes?”

“Continually,” he amended. “All right, I’ll be there in a half hour.”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

Dustin was such a loyal friend that I’d be lost without him—literally. Not that I’d ever admit this to him. He already had a big enough ego and grand dreams of world domination.

After leaving a note for Alyce’s mother on the table saying I’d be back in a few hours, I stepped outside, shivering at the cold, misty air. The sun was creeping up through trees, a golden hue shivering through branches and casting strange shadows that brought back memories of the face I thought I’d seen last night.

That face. Could it really have been Gabe?

In the light of morning, this seemed ridiculous. I was just being seriously paranoid. All I’d seen was a neighbor crossing the lawn or someone out for an evening walk. Even if Gabe were around, he wouldn’t recognize me in Alyce’s body.

Dustin showed up in less than twenty minutes. I knew he’d come right away, both because once he made a decision, he acted immediately, and also because of his secret passion for speeding. Fortunately he also kept some highly illegal police-locating equipment in his car, which saved him from expensive tickets. I waved him down before he even came to a stop and jumped into the car.

Within a half hour, we’d found Alyce’s car, parked on a side street almost a mile from Green Briar.

Dustin leaned against the side of Alyce’s car as I pulled keys out of Monkey Bag. “Should I follow you back to Alyce’s house?” he asked. “Or are you off somewhere else?”

I hesitated, torn between the wants and the responsibilities of my assignment. I wanted to get started right away on finding a boyfriend for Alyce because I was sure this would solve her problems. But I couldn’t forget the list of locations and dates. I had a duty to follow through on her plans—and she’d planned to go to someplace called Liberty today.

When I explained this to Dustin, he—as usual—had a solution.

“Let’s go to my Headquarters,” he said. “I’ll do some checking on that list, find out if you’re right about those places being cemeteries. I don’t know of a city nearby named Liberty, but I think I’ve seen the name on a street sign or something. Then we’ll tackle the matchmaking issue.”

“Really think we can find someone great for Alyce?” I asked hopefully.

Dustin folded his skinny arms against his chest. “Do you want the truth?”

“Probably not, but you’ll give it to me anyway.”

“And you’ll ignore my advice.”

“Only the stupid stuff.”

“Stupid stuff would be a fitting topic for your matchmaking scheme.” He waved his hands expressively. “You may be inside Alyce’s body but you’re not thinking like her. If you set her up with some random guy, she’ll kill you.”

“But it’s not going to be a random guy.
I’ll find the right guy.”

“Should I point out the serious flaws in your plan?”

I sighed as I leaned against the open door of Alyce’s car. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy. But I know this is the right thing to do. Love is the answer to Alyce’s crisis. She’ll never be lonely again if I can hook her up with TRG.”

“What if there is no Right Guy?”

“Pessimism is a hideous personality flaw and very unattractive,” I said, giving him a scolding shake of my head. “Don’t criticize unless you can offer a better plan.”

“How can I when I don’t know what’s going on with Alyce?”

“I told you—it’s all about love. Or lack of it. Maybe you should try it yourself, then you’d know all about love.”

“Oh, and you know it all?” He was mocking me but since I needed his help, I let it pass.

“Sure.”

“Ha!” He chuckled. “Okay, let’s say that Alyce wants a boyfriend. How do you propose to find one for her?”

I stared pointedly into his eyes. “I have this really brilliant friend who can find out anything with the click of a mouse.”

“He must be a loser if he doesn’t have anything better to do than play matchmaker for you.”

“Actually he’s a genius.”

“Never heard of the dude.”

I laughed, knowing from his half smile and the thoughtful twist of his lips that he was already mentally downloading ideas.

A short while later I was following him into his “Headquarters”—a bedroom without a bed, where power cords lurked like snakes, slithering on the floor beneath tables and desks covered with computer equipment. He got to work right away, tapping keys on a central computer.

“What are you typing?” I asked, leaning on the back of his russet-brown leather chair.

He shushed me, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

Coding terminology meant nothing to me, so I didn’t pay much attention until the name of my high school popped up with an official page demanding a password. Dustin stood up so abruptly I had to jump back so he didn’t knock me over. He shifted to a different computer, typed on the keyboard, murmured to himself, then returned to the main computer. The Halsey High site opened up to lists of names and financial data—which I was fairly sure were off-limits to students.

“Eureka! Now I just need to hit … ” His words trailed off as squares of colorful photos flooded the screen.

“What are those?” I asked.

“Yearbook pictures.”

Bending to look closely, I saw names and squared photographs. “These are really current! But the yearbook isn’t even finished yet.”

“That doesn’t mean the information isn’t available … if you know how to sneak through the back door.” Dustin grinned. “So we’ll match Alyce’s information with senior guys and find out if anyone is twisted enough for her.”

I smacked his shoulder. “Don’t talk about her like that. Just get to work.”

“I am. But I’ll need some data from you about Alyce.”

I looked at him, waiting for him to laugh at his lame attempt at a joke. But he didn’t even crack a smile. “You’re kidding, right?”

“About what?” He blinked.

“Asking me for info on Alyce when we’re all best friends and you know all about her.”

He swiveled his chair slightly, glancing away from me. Then he cleared his throat. “Actually … no.”

I gripped the edge of a scanning machine. “What do you mean,
no
?”

“I’m not as close to Alyce as you seem to think. I hang out with you and Alyce hangs out with you, so we’re together a lot. But only because of you—you’re the nucleus of our friendship. When you were in the hospital, Alyce and I barely talked even when we were in the same room. We just don’t have much in common … except you.”

I could not believe what I was hearing.

“That’s how it’s always been,” Dustin went on. “You’re so sure everything is how you see it that sometimes you don’t see what’s really going on. I’m not saying I don’t like Alyce, because I do. I respect her individuality and she’s an amazing artist. Whenever I see one of her baskets, I’m like WOW! And you got to respect anyone with the guts to wear a monkey backpack to school.”

He laughed, but I didn’t. I’d had no idea he and Alyce weren’t tight. If I’d been wrong about my best friends, what else was I wrong about?

“So why aren’t you and Alyce best friends?”

“I’m not really sure. We just never have anything to say to each other. Alyce puts out a vibe, like barbed wire on a fence, warning everyone to back off and not get close.”

“No she doesn’t.”

“Not with you. But if you think about it, when the three of us are together, who’s the one usually doing the talking?”

Answering would be self-incriminating, so I pursed my lips and glared.

“I’m just saying … ” He shrugged.

“Saying that my best friend isn’t who I think she is.”

“Is anyone?” he asked philosophically. “Alyce is a cool person and I have her back if she needs anything, but I can’t joke around with her like I can with you. For a long time now I’ve suspected there’s something secretive going on with her. Maybe this is a chance to find out what it is.”

“Maybe,” I said thoughtfully, then gestured to his computer and said we should get back to work.

He seemed relieved to change the subject and for the next ten minutes, I answered as many questions as I could about Alyce. Things she loved, like black-and-white movies; her favorite color (purple); things she hated, like holidays (except Halloween), pink anything, girls who talked in baby voices, and poor dental hygiene. She scorned team sports and wasn’t involved in extracurricular activities except the Halsey Hospitality Club that I started our freshman year. Alyce, Dustin, and I used to be the only members, but recently a bunch of volunteers had signed up. As president, I officiated at meetings and distributed “Hello Halsey!” gift baskets to new students. Dustin did paperwork, and Alyce worked behind the scenes creating these beautiful baskets.