Dead Girl Walking (17 page)

“No it’s not!” Alyce sobbed. “You heard what the doctor said … what he’s going to do to her body. Cut her up like some science experiment—I can’t take it! Amber and I had all these plans, like getting into the same college, sharing a dorm room. Her little sisters will never get to know her now, and she won’t be there for me when things at home make me crazy and I need to talk to her.”

“I’m here for you,” Dustin offered.

“It’s not the same.”

“It’s hard for me, too.” A tear trickled down Dustin’s unshaven cheek. He glanced up at Eli. “I’ll tell Amber’s family you stopped by.”

Eli frowned. “I really hoped to see her.”

“Sorry, man. Only family and close friends are allowed in her room. But she’s beyond knowing, anyway … and it’ll be over—” His voice cracked. “I-It’s hard to talk about. We’re waiting for the doctor to come for us … to let us know …”

“Isn’t she going to make it?”

Dustin gritted his teeth, still holding onto Alyce as he shook his head. “It doesn’t look good.”

Shocked by the finality in his voice, I stumbled and knocked over the garbage can. Trash spilled around my ankles and a soda can rolled toward the door.

Dustin moved quickly, coming over to pick up the can. “Here,” he said.

“Thanks,” I murmured. “This should go into recycling, though, not the trash.”

Dustin started to turn, but then stared into my face. There was a flicker of curiosity—or maybe puzzlement—in his gaze. “Do I know you?” he asked.

I nodded, slipping the aluminum can into a pocket of the uniform.

His eyes widened, then knitted together. “You’re … you’re—”

“Yes, Dust?” I asked hopefully.

“Leah Montgomery!”

Wrong answer, I thought, disheartened.

“You can’t possible work here,” he said incredulously. “As a janitor?”

“I’m here because of Amber. Please, Dustin … Can’t you see who I really am?”

“Everyone at Halsey knows who you are. I’ve seen you at lunch in that center table. It’s cool you’re … um … working here. Not what I’d expect … I mean … any job is great … even when your family is, like, rich.” Put him in front of a crowd at a rally and he was confident, but in front of a pretty girl, he forgot how to talk.

“Relax, Dust,” I told him. “There’s no reason to be nervous with me.”

“Who’s nervous? I’m not.”

“And I’m not Leah.”

“We don’t care if you’re a janitor or queen of the universe.” Alyce pushed between us, her sorrow shifted to anger. “This isn’t about you—it’s about my friend Amber. I don’t believe you even know her.”

“I know more about her than you think.”

Alyce rolled her eyes. “I doubt you even know her favorite color.”

“Jade green.”

“What does she collect?”

“Self-help books. Piled all over the room and you make dumb jokes about how Amber needs a self-help book on how to organize self-help books.”

Dustin looked impressed, but Alyce sneered. “Anyone could know. You’re pathetic. Amber would have told me if you two were friends—she told me everything. Being here won’t impress anyone, so why don’t you leave? If you hadn’t noticed, our best friend is … is—” Her voice cracked.

Eli quickly moved beside me. “Leah cares. She’s wearing that uniform because she’s a hospital volunteer. I ran into her on my way to see Amber and found out she had the same idea.”

Dustin tilted his head toward me. “Did you send flowers?”

“Flowers?” I blinked.

“The card said they were from Leah Montgomery, but I didn’t believe it. The bouquet was so big the crystal vase didn’t even fit on the tray, so it had to go on the floor.”

The flowers I’d bought with Leah’s credit card. “Yeah, I sent them. Her accident was so tragic. I couldn’t feel worse if it had happened to me.”

“I know she’d appreciate it if she could …” Dustin looked away, wiping his eyes.

“Tell Mo … um … Amber’s family that I send my condolences.”

“Sure,” Dustin said.

“And, Dust?” I added, a lump in my throat.

“Yeah, Leah?”

“I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

I whispered into his ear, “Your socks are mixed shades of black.”

Then I left the waiting room.

Eli and I moved silently down the hall. I didn’t want to talk; I couldn’t without crying. I kept thinking of Dustin and Alyce, wanting to turn around and explain everything to them. But getting to my body was more important.

We didn’t encounter any nurses, doctors or security guards on the way to Room 311. It was like someone (Grammy Greta?) was guiding me back to myself.

“Go ahead,” Eli urged. “I’ll stay outside on watch.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”

“No. This is your moment.”

“And Leah’s,” I said solemnly.

When I pushed open Room 311’s door, sterile whiteness enveloped me: white walls, ceiling, linoleum, window shades, and a plastic white curtain draped around a bed. The only vibrant colors came from a tray crowded with cards, potted plants, and bouquets. I recognized the largest bouquet—fragrant pink, yellow, and red roses blooming from a crystal vase. There was no sound except the drone and beeps from machines. I moved quietly toward the white curtain and drew it back. I could see the outline of a shape underneath white covers.

Alone with myself.

If there was oxygen in the room, I must have used it all up with the huge breath I sucked in as I stared at the motionless girl in the bed.

Me.

She was
me
.

Un-freaking-believable!

I’d never looked at myself full-on before, of course. A reflection or photo isn’t even close to the same thing. Twins must know what it’s like to look at your own face, but until now I’d never had that experience—and it was uber-weird.

My eyes were closed, and tubes crisscrossed over my pale face. My chest rose and fell rhythmically in tune with a beeping machine on the opposite wall. The real me looked so frail and vulnerable. I wanted to reach down and pat my hand, then tell my unconscious body things were going to be all right now that I was here.

And that’s what I did.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I touched my own hand, confused for a moment as to which hand was my own. Of course, it was obvious, since the girl in the bed wore a taped IV on one wrist and a plastic identification bracelet. Also, there were faint red bumps like a rash on her arms. Nettles.

But where was Grammy’s lucky rainbow bracelet? Had it been destroyed in the accident? Without it I couldn’t send a message to Grammy about the Dark Lifer I’d met. Once I was myself again I’d find a way to contact her.

“We’ll be okay,” I said, giving my body’s hand a squeeze.

And I meant Leah, too. I was beginning to understand that she wasn’t a goddess to be worshipped from afar for her beauty and popularity, but a complex human with flaws and problems like everyone else. Maybe she needed so many friends at school because she had no real support at home. Her brother was a pint-sized brute, her mother had drinking issues, and her father was the worst. I still couldn’t believe he’d slapped my butt. There was something weird about his relationship with his trophy daughter.

Fortunately, I wouldn’t have to deal with creepy Mr. Montgomery much longer. With some heavenly luck, I should be myself again soon. I wasn’t sure what would happen to Leah and prayed she’d be okay.

Glancing up at a wall clock, I realized I’d already been here for nearly ten minutes. Why hadn’t the magic worked yet? I squeezed my hand and closed my eyes. Visualize changing bodies, I told myself.

Time for the big switcheroo.

If I could just be myself again, I vowed never to complain about all the things that used to annoy me: homework, washing dishes, taking out the garbage, babysitting instead of hanging with my friends, and inheriting Mom’s potato thighs. I felt like Dorothy, clicking her heels together and wishing, “There’s no place like home.” Amen.

Dizzy sensations swept over me; I could visualize myself slipping into my real body. The tingly feeling grew stronger and a dull roar echoed in my head. Focus and concentrate. Bring on the magic.

Only when I looked at myself, nothing had changed.

“Switch back. Now!” I held Leah’s and my hands tightly, squeezing hard, closing my eyes, and wanting this more than I’d wanted anything in my whole life.

I opened one eye. Then the other and …

Damn! Still in the wrong body.

Strangling cords of doubt and fear tangled around my heart. Why wasn’t this working? It had to! Grandma? Cola? Where are you? Please make this happen!

A rustle of footsteps. I whirled to find the door swinging open.

“Oh! It’s you.” I sank back with relief. “Eli, don’t scare me like that.”

“Leah?” Eli eyed me uncertainly.

“No.” I shook Leah’s head sadly. “Still Amber.”

“Well, change back already!”

“Don’t you think I’m trying?”

“Try harder. I just spotted your parents and a doctor at the elevators.”

“Mom! Dad! Are they headed here?”

“I think so. Do the switcheroo fast!”

“But the magic hasn’t happened yet.”

“We can’t wait around or we’ll get kicked out of the hospital. We have to go. We’ll come back once they’re gone. Hurry!” Before I could object, he yanked me away from the hospital bed. I glanced longingly at my Amber body, then hurried after Eli.

We made it to the stairwell just in time.

Peeking out, I saw my parents’ ashen faces, which nearly broke my heart.

Mom, Dad!
I wanted to call out.
Everything is okay. I’m not in a coma—I’m right here! I’m still alive, just horribly misdirected!!

I turned away so I wouldn’t fling myself into their arms.

Instead, I huddled with Eli in the stairwell, lost in a baggy janitor’s suit and misery.

Why hadn’t I been able to switch back? I’d squeezed my own hand and felt nothing. No zap of magic. I must have needed more time with my body to trigger the magic. Next time I’d wait longer and call out to Grandma for help. She said she watched over me, so she could pull some heavenly strings.

“I have to get back to my body,” I told Eli.

“Not yet,” he said with a glance through the crack in the door. “Wait until the doctor and your parents leave.”

I knew he was right—damn it. A janitor’s uniform could only get me so far—especially one designed for a car dealership, not a hospital. But I assured myself this was just a delay. Soon I’d get another chance with my real body.

Until then, Eli and I waited in the cafeteria. I hadn’t brought any money (obviously!), but Eli bought us both sandwiches and hot fudge sundaes. He ordered a super jumbo sundae for me. It was so sweet—Eli’s thoughtfulness, not the ice cream—well, actually, the hot fudge was sinfully hot and rich and ooh-so-yummy.

For a while I forgot about all the scary stuff and just enjoyed being with Eli. While we ate, I studied him: his changing green-hazel eyes, his wavy hair that needed a trim, and his hesitant smile that was slightly crooked on one side. Not the model-handsome looks of his brother yet much nicer in so many ways. I bet he kissed nice, too.

We waited a long half hour before returning.

The door to Room 311 was closed. We watched a while, alert for any hint that medical staff or my family were still in the room. But it seemed quiet. Mom and Dad must have gone. This might be my last chance to get to my body.

I prayed the magic worked this time—and fast.

“You go in,” Eli told me. “I’ll wait out here.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, wanting to say so much more. Eli had believed the impossible, and gone out of his way to help a girl he hardly knew. Looking at him, I felt a rush of emotion—and without planning to, I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

He reddened and flashed a goofy smile. “Let’s try that again when you’re you.”

“It’s a date.” I had a feeling my smile was goofy, too.

As I crossed the hall, I felt his gaze on me, watching my back like a real friend and making me feel like nothing could go wrong.

But when I reached the room, the door swung open from the inside and I nearly bumped into a grayed-haired doctor. Oops! I guess the room wasn’t empty, after all.

“Excuse me.” Dr. Lewin (according to his badge) frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh … it’s just some …” I glanced down at my janitor uniform. “Uh, routine maintenance.”

“It’ll have to wait,” he told me disapprovingly.

“Why?”

“Because that poor girl’s parents are sitting by her bedside … and they deserve their privacy.” He glanced over his shoulder then back to me. “We’re getting ready to take her to the operating room for organ harvesting.”

“Harvesting?” My hand flew to my mouth. “But I heard she had one more day.”

“Plans changed.” The doctor sighed. “It’s all over for Amber Borden.”