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.
When I was done answering questions, Dustin inputted everything and accessed some records for the school yearbook. After a few minutes, a printer started up.
“Got it!” Dustin announced when the printer was silent and a single sheet of paper fluttered in a tray. He scooped up the paper and held it out for me. “Here. The top three ‘love’ matches for Alyce.”
With hopes fluttering, I read the names:
2. Kyle Mondovey
Oh. My. God.
Staring down at the printout, my throat went drier than a desert in a drought. I could hardly speak. No freaking way could Dustin be serious! This had to be a joke. Ha, ha, just messing around so he could mock me and prove my idea sucked.
Zachary wore neat, buttoned-down shirts and was always flashing a big grin like he was running for election — which could be the case, since he was on the Student Council and president of the photography club. While I didn’t know Zachary personally, I knew enough to worry for his personal safety if he ever got too close to Alyce. She’d run him through the garbage disposal and feed his remains to her cat.
Kyle’s rebel ’tude might intrigue Alyce: black leather, shaved head, piercings, and front teeth sharpened to dagger points. He was rumored to have a mob uncle and be only recently returned from his true alma mater, Juvie. And those weren’t the worst rumors — his last girlfriend couldn’t hide her bruises with makeup and, after showing up with a broken arm, she “coincidentally” transferred to another school.
“Amazing results, huh?” Dustin asked me.
“How can you possibly ask me that? Alyce could never fall in love with any of these people. Zachary is a total tool — she can’t stand guys like him. And Kyle — well, he scares me. It’s not safe to mess with someone with
“You know better than to listen to rumors. His uncle isn’t in the mob. He works at a mobile phone company.”
“That doesn’t explain the bruises on his last girlfriend, Keesha, and I saw her broken arm.”
“The computer doesn’t lie,” Dustin insisted as he scooped the papers out of my hands. “These three guys are the top matches for Alyce.”
“Guys?” I snorted. “FYI, Dustin. Taylor isn’t even a guy.”
“What are you saying?”
“Taylor Ann Pate is in my gym class, and she’s definitely female.”
Biting his lower lip, he glanced down uneasily at the paper. “That’s not possible. I couldn’t miss such an important detail. Still, it’s easily fixed. I’ll delete Taylor from the list. That still leaves us two promising matches. Are you ready to proceed to the next step?”
“Next step?” I asked uneasily.
“Contact in a public setting.”
“You mean … dates?”
“How else will you select the best candidate for Alyce?”
“No, no, no way.” I pulled over a chair and sank next to him. “I hadn’t thought about that … I mean … How can I go out with other guys? I won’t cheat on Eli.”
“You won’t be going out — Alyce will.”
“With me in her body. Eww! What if Zachary or Kyle try to kiss me?”
“That would be a great opportunity to judge their compatibility. I suspect Alyce’s body will let you know which guy she prefers. But you don’t have to go through with this. I told you I think it’s a bad idea. In my experience digging up dirt on politicians, love is never the answer but a mistake that leads to their downfall.”
“That’s lust, not love,” I argued.
“Is there a difference?”
“That’s the kind of comment I’d expect from someone who’d rather date strangers he meets online.”
“It’s only happened twice … well, three times if you count that one that lied about her age.”
“You bragged about hooking up with an older woman,” I remembered with a chuckle. “Until you found out she was older than your mother.”
“A lesson learned and not to be repeated. I’ve sworn off romance until after college. I have too much to accomplish, anyway — like today I’m going to a protest. But before I go, I’ll try to set up dates for you.”
“Thanks … I think.”
He gave me a deep look. “Sure you want to go out with these guys?”
I didn’t want to — but this was for Alyce. And I owed her.
So I took the printout from Dustin’s hand, studied the photos, then handed the paper back to Dustin. “Okay. Set up the dates.”
6
Before I left Dustin’s house, he Googled Liberty and Pioneer, discovering that they were (as I’d suspected) names of historical cemeteries all within an hour’s drive. But how did lavish Green Briar fit on the list? Alyce went to a lot of trouble for an old file. It just didn’t add up.
Sighing, I looked up as Dustin’s printer shut off.
“Here,” Dustin said, holding out several printouts. “Easy directions to keep even you from getting lost. On second thought, I should go with you.”
“And miss out on the chance for arrest?” I teased. “Go kick butt at your protest. Don’t worry, I won’t get lost.”
“You always say that.”
“I always mean it.”
“Until I get a SOS call,” he teased. “I highlighted your route in yellow. Give me a call later to let me know how things go. By then I should have you set up for your first date. Which guy would you rather go out with first? Zachary or Kyle?”
“Neither.”
“Should I remind you this was your idea?”
I stuck my tongue out at him and snatched the printouts from his hand. As the door thumped shut behind me, I wondered what would be a bigger waste of time:
1. Going out with guys Alyce would hate.
2. Going to cemeteries without knowing why.
This whole Temp Life thing would work better if Alyce’s body came with easy-to-follow directions. Instead it felt like I was sinking deeper into “crazy.” I envied Grammy for having such a simple assignment. No school, no obligations, just kicking back and having fun at my house.
Hmmm … what exactly was she doing?
Instead of starting up the car, I reached over for Monkey Bag and dug inside for Alyce’s cell. Punching in my own number was so weird. The phone rang and rang and I was about ready to hang up when someone answered.
But it wasn’t Grammy.
My mother!
“Just a sec,” Mom said, in a rush as if she’d been interrupted (she was probably chasing Melonee, who always resisted having her diaper changed). “Amber!” she shouted.
Startled, I jerked back and smacked my elbow on the door handle, crying a sick-cat sound-combo of “Mom!”
