my neighbor Dilly, who considered it her duty to fill me in on all the drama of
I didn’t interrupt Luis as he talked — except to ask for more food. He gasped (I guessed Leah didn’t eat much), then he rushed into the kitchen and returned with more creamy homemade clam chowder, honeyed corn bread, and fresh salmon fried in a spicy batter. It was the best meal I’d had since landing in the wrong body.
But then Angie returned and spoiled everything. She snapped at Luis to get back to work. He smiled at me conspiratorially, then collected the dirty dishes and hustled to the kitchen.
I had no other place to go except my room. Sinking onto the bed, I stared up at the ceiling. I couldn’t sleep, or even cry anymore. How was I going to pass empty minutes without a computer, TV, or anything to read except some fashion magazines? I considered searching Mr. Montgomery’s office library for something to read, but didn’t want to go into that formidable room again.
Boredom swallowed me whole and gnawed … until I remembered the journal.
I dug it out from under the bed (dumb hiding place!) and settled myself in a chair by the window. I hoped for intimate diary passages as juicy as Luis’ soap operas. But a quick flip of the book showed mostly empty pages, and only some brief writing on the first few pages — not typical entries, either.
Page One: A scribbled red heart with Chad’s name written inside — like something a ten-year-old with her first crush would draw.
Page Two: Jagged pieces of a heart, ripped apart. Instead of Chad’s name there were ugly slashes of black Xs.
Trouble in Love City?
There was only one more page, and it contained just six scrawled lines:
I reread the lines, quaking inside with the certainty that Leah was writing about herself. Had these been her last thoughts before taking the pills? She seemed so unlike the confident leader I’d admired at school, breezing through the halls with her entourage, smiling and waving at friends. Was that all an act? What was really going on with her? The line about her sleeping around bothered me the most.
What had this body I now inhabited experienced?
If only I could have saved her, somehow. Now I was afraid she was gone. Not trapped in my real body, as I’d first thought, but banished to a dark place for suicide victims. I’d survived because of her loss — it didn’t seem fair. But what Leah had written in her journal wasn’t fair, either. Instead of accepting responsibility for her actions, she blamed the unknown “They,” She,” and “He.”
I couldn’t help getting hit by a truck, but Leah sure could have stopped herself from swallowing pills. Maybe I still would have gotten lost on the way to my own body. Maybe I would have ended up in a completely different body or no body at all. I had no way of knowing what might have happened to me. But if Leah had held on longer, if she’d believed in herself, I know what would have happened to her.
She’d still be alive.
* * *
Aside from being cook, gardener and handyman, Luis also acted as chauffeur.
When he dropped me off at Jessica’s mini-mansion, I clutched my beaded handbag tightly, swallowed hard, and shoved everything “Amber” from my mind.
“Leah, it’s so lovely to see you!” Mrs. Bradley, Jessica’s elegant, dark-haired mother, enveloped me in a hug. Her hands sparkled with ornate gold, diamond, and sapphire rings — middle-aged versions of Jessica’s ring-covered hands.
I murmured “Hello” in my most polite tone, then followed her into a vast room of windows showcasing a gleaming piano. In another corner, leather chairs and a couch were arranged around a glass-topped coffee table. A familiar trio sat on the couch.
“Leah!” Kat and Moniqua squealed.
“Leah,” Chad said in completely different tone: husky, with intimate undertones. He crossed the room, pulling me into an embrace. “I know it’s only been a few days but it’s like I haven’t seen you for months. I’ve been crazy trying to get in touch with you. Your damn father gave orders not to accept my calls. You know what I miss most?”
When his hands wandered up from my waist I stiffened. “Not now, Chad.”
“Come on, Leah.” He brushed his fingers across my hair. “Don’t be mad. I never would have left you at the hospital if I didn’t have to.”
“Oh, you had to?” I asked sarcastically. “I go back to the car and instead of finding you in it, there’s a police officer.”
“Sorry, but I have some unpaid traffic tickets and I’d have been screwed if that officer ran my license. Still, I felt bad about leaving you.” He didn’t sound very sorry.
“Of course, you had to ditch me,” I said with heavy irony.
“I knew you’d understand.”
“More than you realize.”
The young, dark-haired maid I remembered from my last visit came in carrying iced tea. Although I didn’t know her, I felt a kinship; both of us were forced into roles that masked our real personalities. Her dark eyes shone like someone who laughed easily when she wasn’t working. I would have liked to follow her out of the room and hang out. Instead, I sat in a leather chair, avoiding Chad.
Jessica propped a laptop on her knees, clicking her keyboard with one hand while sipping tea with the other. “Meeting starts now. Thanks for coming, everyone.” She gave me a warm smile. “Especially Leah. Welcome back.”
“Yay, Leah.” Kat applauded. “I wouldn’t even know you’d been sick if I, well, didn’t know you’d been sick. You look fabulous.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Moniqua added with a rattle of her beaded braids. “Kat actually thought brain fever would make your hair fall out. We downloaded some sites for wigs. But she was wrong as usual.”
“I didn’t say for sure, just that I heard it could happen,” Kat explained.
“She read it off the internet. Probably one of those fake medical sites.”
“Whatever.” Kat jabbed Moniqua with her pointed black shoe. “All that matters is having Leah back with us, looking as gorgeous as ever.”
When they talked around me, I felt more like furniture than part of this conversation.
“Can we get on with this meeting?” Chad complained, moving possessively closer to me. “Leah and I want to have time to go someplace alone … if you know what I mean.”
“Maybe none of us care what you mean.” Jessica scowled at Chad. “Can you at least pretend to take this meeting seriously? You’re only here because of Leah, but the rest of us care about starving people who depend on our fundraisers.”
“I care.” He flashed a cocky smile.
“Then show it,” she snapped. “We only have one day to come up with a fundraiser. The principal has offered us a wonderful opportunity to use the auditorium this Friday, after school.”
“In three days?” Moniqua exclaimed. “You’ve got to be joking. No way can we plan anything that soon.”
“Did I say it would be easy? No, I did not. That’s why it was so urgent we meet tonight. We need to come up with something amazing enough to get the whole school excited. Any suggestions?”
“Leah could ask her father to bring in one of his bands,” Moniqua suggested.
“Cool!” Kat clapped. “A concert for the poor.”
I cringed, because I couldn’t imagine asking Mr. Montgomery for anything. Fortunately, Jessica was more realistic. She pointed out that with spring break coming up there wasn’t time for a big music event. “What we need
