Linda Singleton - Dead Girl Dancing

“But you can’t be my sister!”

“Only on the outside,” I told him. “Inside I’m still the same directionally challenged, chocolate-obsessed math geek. The last time I saw you — yesterday, I guess — we were in the hospital waiting for the magical switch from Leah’s body to mine. After we kissed, I saw this dazzling light and talked to Grammy. I thought everything was going to be okay — until a few minutes ago.”

“What went wrong?” he demanded. “Leah acted like she was herself again, but you just kept on sleeping and no one could wake you up — even the doctors couldn’t figure it out.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m a Temp Lifer.”

“Huh? A what?”

“Temp Lifers are like body doubles — stepping in for the rough scenes when someone can’t deal with their life role. Only instead of working for Hollywood, Temp Lifers report to the other side,” I explained, although it was hard to describe something I didn’t fully understand.

My grandmother had said Temp Lifers were usually souls who had passed over, except in rare cases when a living person (like me) helped out. As with anything good, there was a bad side, too: Dark Lifers. These renegade Temp Lifers hijacked human bodies to avoid returning to the light. I’d had a creepy encounter with one and never ever wanted to go through that again.

“Let me get this straight,” Eli said, as if trying to be calm even though I could tell he was upset. “Instead of returning to your own body, you swapped with my sister?”

“Yes.”

“So while I was waiting for you to wake up, holding your hand and saying … well, things I would never say to my sister … it was her and not you?”

“Um … yeah.” I bit my lip. “But I doubt she heard you. She might not even be there. I don’t really know how this all works. I swear I didn’t know this was going to happen when I offered to help my grandmother. I didn’t think she’d really switch me.”

“You didn’t think at all,” he said bitterly. “Finally we hear from my sister and you’re not even her.”

“This sucks for me, too. I’m alone in a strange place instead of with my real family. I hoped to be back with them by now … and with you, too. I really miss you, Eli. I was looking forward to being in my own body and spending a lot of time with you.”

“I wanted that too. Only now we can’t … well … anything.”

“Yeah. I freaked when I looked in the mirror and saw your sister. I mean, YOUR SISTER. How could Grammy do this to me?” Tears swelled in my eyes. “Everything is so messed up. I just want to be me again.”

“Ask your grandmother to switch you back.”

“Don’t you think I would if I knew how?” I wiped my eyes and gold flashed from the elegant bracelet on my wrist. It looked expensive, the sort of bling I dreamed of affording someday when I became a famous entertainment agent. But at that moment I’d give anything to wear my cheap “lucky” rainbow braided bracelet. Grammy said if I was ever in trouble to say a “magic” chant and twist the bracelet to contact her, but I didn’t even know where the bracelet was. Without it, I was lost — literally.

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Eli asked me.

“Wait to hear from Grammy, I guess. She told me she’s never far away. At least this is only a temporary job so once Sharayah rests a few days and is strong enough to deal with her problems, I should change back.” I hope.

“Only a few days?” Eli sounded relieved. “That’s not too bad … it could even turn out to be a good thing.”

“Good?” I asked skeptically.

“Good for my family. My parents are really hurt because Sharayah won’t visit or even talk to us.”

“You said she didn’t come for Christmas, so her problems started over three months ago?”

“At least,” he said angrily. “A few weeks after Thanksgiving. We blame her boyfriend — some older guy named Gabe. She wouldn’t tell us anything about him but everything changed when they started going out. She switched roommates — dumping Hannah who’s been her closest friend since preschool. We heard from her other friends, too, wanting to know why she wasn’t returning calls. The only time we heard from her was when she needed money.”

“About money,” I said, with an uneasy glance down at Sharayah’s purse. “Does she … uh … have a job?”

“I doubt it. She’s majoring in pre-med and her college load is too heavy for anything except volunteering at clinics. But she’s changed so much that I have no clue what she’s been doing. Let me know what you find out. Now that I think about it, I’m glad you’re there. If my sister is so stressed out she needs a temporary replacement, who better for the job?”

“Yay, me,” I said with zero enthusiasm.

“You won’t be alone. After I work out some details — like borrowing a car from my parents — I’ll drive there.”

“Really? You’ll drive all the way to … ” I paused, realizing I didn’t even know what city I was in.

“You’re in San Jose,” he said, chuckling.

That wasn’t too far — only a few hours’ drive. I suddenly felt much better. “I’ll be here waiting. It’s not like I can go anywhere else. I doubt I even have a car.”

“Actually you do — if you can call that pint-sized Geo a car. Dad about had a heart attack when Shari bought that car instead of getting something from his dealership. That was only the beginning of her problems.”

“She’ll be okay,” I assured him.

“But will you?” he asked, so sympathetically that I felt like crying and had to swallow hard to stay calm.

I didn’t know how to answer; I was reluctant to admit I was scared and worried I’d screw up Sharayah’s life as well as my own. I wanted Eli’s respect, not his pity, and the self-help books I studied advised stuff like “nothing is sexier than confidence” and “never show fear.” So I assured him everything was fine, that I would do a great job as a Temp Lifer and successfully solve Sharayah’s problems.

For a moment I actually believed I could do this — like I was Super Amber and could achieve anything. But I guess my super powers didn’t include talking with guys, because there was this awkward silence between us, as if we were both waiting for the other to say something romantic. But who knew if there even was an “us”? We hadn’t gone out on a real date, since I’d spent most of our time together in someone else’s body.

“Well … um … ” I finally said oh-so-not-brilliantly.

“I better … you know … go,” he said, just as brilliantly.

“You should … I guess.”

“I guess … but Amber?”

“Yes? Yes?” My heart fluttered.

“I just want to say … ”

“What?”

“That I … I … ”

My cell phone beeped, flashing an incoming text message. I swore at the stupid timing of the stupid call, then realized Eli might think I was swearing at him and started to apologize as I hit the “stop” button to prevent another stupid beep from interrupting my conversation. Only the phone was a newer model than I’d ever used before and instead of shutting off the beep, I hung up on Eli.

Damn! Not the romantic way I wanted to end our conversation. I considered calling him back, but didn’t want to go through that whole awkward good-bye thing again. Besides he’d be here in a few hours and then we’d talk — really talk.

The text message indicator kept flashing, so I hit a few buttons until one seemed to work. There was no name of the sender, only an unknown phone number and a short message:

I M WATCHING U.

I flung the phone across the room like it was on fire. Then I raced over to the window with acute paranoia. The blinds were drawn but not completely closed, so I peered through them, seeing only inky night and the dim glow of street lights. Except for the faint noise of distant traffic, the night world was still and silent. But anyone could lurk in the dark; uninvited, unseen … unfriendly.