I begged her to try out for American Idol only she refused.”
“Talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted,” Warren told me.
“Don’t bother trying to convince her,” Sadie said. “Rayah has a great voice but no ambition to do anything about it. Can you believe she’s majoring in medicine? Like hanging out around sick people would be more fun than performing in front of millions of fans. She could be a real star if she’d just go for it.”
So why didn’t Sharayah go for it? I wondered. My “borrowed” voice had full range, passion, and a soulful quality. The hint of dusky vibration added uniqueness — the extra factor the music industry loved. Of course, it took talent to be a doctor or nurse, too, and I had nothing against the medical profession. But a beautiful voice was a gift to be shared with the world, and becoming a star would be more exciting than taking blood pressure. I would give almost anything to have Sharayah’s natural talent. Unfortunately, my real voice could scare small children. That’s partly why I decided to become an entertainment agent. If I couldn’t be a star, I’d create them.
Recently, I’d come close to signing my first client. This new girl at school, Trinidad, wowed me so much with her powerhouse voice that I knew she was destined for stardom. So what if I didn’t have any experience as an entertainment agent? How do you get experience without taking risks? Trinidad was so talented that I knew I could convince a studio to sign her (and me!) on. But before I had a chance, the whole body-switch happened.
Now I had a chance to sign up another new talent— myself!
Puzzle pieces flew up in my mind, danced pirouettes, and fell down in perfect place. It all made sense now. This was why I’d been put in Sharayah’s body and why we were headed to Venice, not far from Los Angeles where Hollywood dreams come true. It wasn’t a cosmic error. I was the perfect person to help Sharayah become a star.
I tingled with the thrill of this “ah ha!” moment, confident I’d complete my assignment quickly. If it meant staying with Sharayah’s friends at a luxurious beach condo, well, I was willing to make that sacrifice.
“At last! A gas station.” Sadie pointed as she merged onto a right-hand ramp. “And my phone has a signal.”
“Great!” I said.
“You can use the restroom first,” she told me. “I got some texts to send to my family, but should be done when you get back.”
The car came to a stop by the food mart attached to the gas station. I grabbed Sharayah’s purse in case I needed money and scrambled out.
“Wait up, Rayah!” Warren called but I ignored him, picking up my pace.
As I pushed open the glass door, I sniffed the buttery scent of popcorn along with sugary pastries and other yummy snacks. I had plenty of cash — why not spend some of it on food? I drooled a little at a shelf of assorted candy bars, debating on whether I’d rather have a Milky Way, Peanut M&M’s or a Kit Kat bar.
I followed a hand-written sign to a restroom far in the back.
The bathroom had a sour odor and only two narrow stalls. One of them was missing a door, so I chose the other.
I was humming to myself, still in awe over the amazing voice coming from my mouth. Lost in starry dreams and all the possibilities, I was only faintly aware of the sound of the door opening. Then the lights went out.
“Hey, who turned off the lights?” I cried.
No one answered, but I heard faint footsteps padding toward the stalls. In the dim light coming from the high windows, two white sneakers seem to glow like eerie ghosts. Instead of heading for the stall adjacent to mine, they stopped outside my locked door.
“Sharayah,” said a low voice hissed with hatred. “It’s all over.”
Through the slit in the door I saw a glint of fiery curls.
The red-haired girl had found me.
And then she kicked the door.
7
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.”
