Dead Girl Dancing

“Aside from the chance it could end up on YouTube?”

“You think?” She actually sounded excited by this possibility. “Now I’m definitely going for it — and you should, too.”

“Forget. It.”

“Then you’ll lose.”

“I’m already losing my nerve about going up there.”

“That attitude is so not like you. Snap out of it, Rayah.”

Oops. I was forgetting who I was supposed to be — not a high schooler with only a few kisses to my name, but an uninhibited college girl. Still, I had a frantic urge to flee, and was coming up with a zillion reasons why this was a bad idea. But then I remembered Gabe’s raised hand and the cruel look on his face right before he tumbled off the cliff. Sharayah had gone through so much and deserved some fun. I could do this small thing for her.

But when my number was called, I couldn’t make my legs work.

“Go!” Mauve pushed me.

“I–I … I don’t know what to do.”

“Dance! Shake your booty! Geez, Rayah, it’s not like you haven’t danced on a stage before — and wearing much less!”

Mauve gave me another swift shove forward. I found myself front and center on a beach podium beside a smooth-talking DJ who held a mike in one hand and a bucket full of water in the other. I gazed across a sea of heads. All except Mauve were strangers, but united in a mass of shouts and waving hands urging me on.

The being on stage part didn’t bother me. I was President of the Halsey High Hospitality Club and had to welcome new students and even give speeches at school assemblies. But this wasn’t about speaking or school … and when a tsunami of icy water splashed over me, I screamed.

“Ahhh! That’s cold!”

I stumbled, slipping in puddles and momentarily blinded when my hair dripped in my face. My arms flailed as I tried to keep my balance. My feet slid sideways. To avoid sailing off the podium, I found myself curling into a forward flip — then I landed flat on my feet, like a gymnast. Wow! Where had that come from? Obviously, this body not only liked exercise but knew some cool gymnastic moves.

The audience went wild! I was getting down with the rhythm now, swaying to the music. Pushing my wet hair from my face, I got a thrill from all the waving hands cheering me on. My body seemed to take over again as the music amped up — a jazzy dance song that sent my hips swaying. My skin tingled with goose bumps but I felt warmed from the shouting audience (and probably all those red cups). I danced with abandon, sucked into the rhythm.

What the hell? This wasn’t my real life, and the energy sizzling around me was contagious. My inhibitions washed away like the droplets of water streaming down my skin, and I just danced. I hoped when Sharayah returned she’d remember this moment and know that she could overcome anything and dance in her own power.

More shouting, whistling, hooting — a blur of insanity. Then the music stopped and I was ushered off the podium. Mauve slapped me a high five as she hurried past for her turn. A skinny girl covered in tattoos led me to the side of the stage, where I joined the other dripping-wet girls.

Then, amid shouts of “Take it off!” Mauve strutted onto the stage.

When it was all over and the awards were passed out, I was actually disappointed not to place in the top five. Ridiculous to care, right? I never expected to win. I mean, there was little honor or sport in winning because of the “topography” of my temporary body. Still, I’d always had this killer competitive streak and hated losing.

“I danced better than that tattooed girl who took fourth place,” I complained while I waited with Mauve to pick up her second-place prize.

“Your flip was cool but I told you about flashing. That’s what won me a free sushi dinner for two,” Mauve said. “You’ll do better next time.”

“No next time.” I shook my head, which caused me to sway dizzily. “But I’m glad you won and dinner is a cool prize. I could go for some solid food. Unless you’ve got plans with Alonzo, I’m up for sushi.”

“With your allergies?” Mauve stopped to stare at me like I was crazy. “Last time you ate sushi, you swelled up so awful I thought you were dying.”

“Well … yeah. I was just joking about eating sushi.”

“Rushing you to emergency was not funny.”

“Sorry,” I said, hiding the panic racing through me.

What other important facts didn’t I know about this body? Navigating someone else’s life was perilous. If Mauve hadn’t warned me about the allergy, I might have had an accidental slip. I had to be extra careful or not only would Sharayah miss her chance with the Voice Choice competition, but we both could end up dead.

“He’s here!” Mauve cried out, bouncing excitedly and waving her hand.

I started to ask who, but knew the answer the moment I turned around and saw the mass of black curls and the mega-watt smile. Alonzo had found us. At least I didn’t see Warren.

“You made it! I wasn’t sure you could find us!” Mauve jumped gleefully into his open arms.

“You’re easy to find, babe,” Alonzo said huskily, then glanced around. “Where’s Sadie?”

“Shopping, as usual. She’ll show up eventually.” Mauve lifted her coupon and waved it in his face. “Check out my prize!”

“Superior,” he said, squinting at it. “Sushi, huh? I’m up for that. So sorry I missed the show.”

“Stick around,” Mauve said with a suggestive raise of her brows. “I could be persuaded to give an encore performance.”

“Keep talking,” he urged, pulling her closer.

Awkward third-wheel moment. Wringing out a corner of my dripping shirt, I murmured that I was leaving to change my clothes. We made plans to meet at the car in two hours. Mauve loaned me the car keys and then waved as she hooked her arm in Alonzo’s and walked away.

Although my buzz had faded, my head ached and my legs felt rubbery as I left the beach path. How many red cups had I had anyway? At least four … well, maybe six, but no more than seven. I was following through on Sharayah’s plans, but shouldn’t I also guide her to better choices? Balancing the role of a Temp Lifer was complicated. Regardless, acting too wild was a bad idea. If I didn’t keep a clear head, I’d never succeed at this assignment.

Breathing in and out until my head felt a little clearer, I followed a pathway to the street, dreading another long hike to the car. It had to be at least a mile — maybe even two — and no matter whose body I was in, I detested exercise.

Clouds had rolled in and a breeze shivered my shoulders. I thought longingly of the windbreaker I’d seen in Sharayah’s suitcase. What else would I find there? I wondered, pressing the button on a crosswalk. I’d only glanced through it before, too startled by the ring to look any further. This time, I’d take the time for a thorough search without anyone looking over my shoulder.

When the crosswalk light flashed green, I hurried ahead of a large family group pushing strollers. Then I spotted a near-extinct curiosity — a pay phone. Digging into the jacket pocket where I’d shoved some money and a credit card, I trotted over to it and called Eli.

Only he didn’t answer.

I left a short “Call ASAP!” message and gave him Sadie’s cell number. We hadn’t talked for hours, so he should have been by the phone waiting to hear from me. Or was I expecting too much from him? It wasn’t like we were officially going out. We’d only known each other a short time — most of it while I was in someone else’s body. It was unrealistic to expect him to stop his life for me. But to be honest with myself (a self-help book called Bullshit Belongs in the Pasture advised honest self-talk), that’s exactly what I had expected. Had Eli grown tired of waiting? This was his spring break, too, so he probably had plans with his family or buddies, plans that didn’t include me.

Wallowing in pity, I’d walked a few blocks before I noticed the prickly feeling in the back of my neck. I stopped and rubbed it. I recognized that “being watched” warning. Maybe it was my imagination … or maybe not. Had the red-haired stalker found me again?

Don’t turn around, I cautioned myself. Keep walking like nothing is wrong. Force a