Freaky Monday (6 page)

I stood outside
the school waiting for my ride. I looked down at my watch, and boy oh boy, Ms. Pitt had really taken the natural-world obsession too far—the hands of her watch were lame-o butterfly wings. I'm all for self-renewal metaphors and all, but the butterfly motif was so cheesy and obvious.

Where was Mr. Hudson? He sure was taking some sweet time getting his car to drive me home. After my meltdown, I was more than anxious to get the heck out of Dodge. Every fiber and inch of my being wanted to escape. NOW.

I couldn't believe it when I saw Tatum's Accord pull up out of the corner of my eye. Surely this insane day was playing with my brain—Tatum wouldn't be at school to get me now—I mean, school wasn't even out yet! But I turned my head and it was definitely her. She slammed into the curb and screeched the car to a halt.

And she was sobbing. Her shoulders were shaking and tears were streaming down her beautiful raccoon-streaked face. I instantly ran up to her car, and Tatum looked embarrassed, started wiping away her tears and putting on a brave face.

I tapped on her window and she rolled it down.

“Oh, hey, Ms. Pitt,” she said with a froggy voice.

Ms. Pitt?! No, no—I'm your SISTER! Your FRIEND!

“What's going on? What's wrong?” I asked breathlessly.

Tatum blew her nose forcefully. Even though it was a serious honk, she made it sound adorable and only added to her charm. She was one of those impossibly enchanting people who can burp and everyone giggles. “Sorry. It's just…a really bad day,” she explained, and started to cry again.

“Yeah, and I sorta figured that part out!” I exclaimed. Tatum's face clouded over with confusion—I guess teachers aren't really encouraged to play in the sarcasm sandbox. How I wanted to tell her I had switched places with Ms. Pitt! But I had the distinct feeling that would be entirely too much information and send Tatum over the edge. She needed sanity right now. “Sorry. I mean, just tell me what's wrong.”

Tatum looked down and her chin quivered. I had
never
seen Tatum so distraught before. Then a thought crashed into my head: “It's not Mom or Dad, is it?”

She gave me a puzzled look. “No, my family's fine….”

I wanted to say
Except for your sister!
but I tried to sound as rational as embrace-the-universe Ms. Pitt. “Then what is it?”

“I'm sorry you have to see me like this…but of any teacher, you're the one who I'd feel most comfortable melting down in front of. So…yah for me.” Tatum gave a sad little “woo-hoo” gesture. “I found out…that…I didn't get into Colorado State today.”

“Oh no, Tatum! Your last choice!”

“How did you know?”

I smiled unconvincingly. “A feeling, I guess…Maybe Hadley said something. Anyway, go on.”

“I was in the library and looked up my acceptance online. And there in my in-box was a big fat rejection e-mail. ‘Thank you very much for your interest in Colorado State, but we will not be accepting your application at this time.'” She paused, shaking her head miserably. “I mean, I didn't even want to go to Colorado State! I'm sure Fort Collins is nice enough…but…I thought I'd get in there
easy
!”

“Oh, Tatum, I'm so sorry. So so sorry.” I wanted to hug her but that would probably freak her out completely.

“If I was more like Hadley, I wouldn't be in this situation, which is totally screwed.”

What she said jumped out at me. “More like
Hadley
?”

“You know, Hadley's got it figured out, and she studies so hard and is so brilliant…. But I guess I learned my lesson a little too late, huh?”

I was stunned—
I
had it figured out? Really?

“Let's face it, no college wants the homecoming queen who gets Ds in math….” said Tatum. And with that, her head fell and she started to really sob again.

“Oh, Tatum…I can't stand to see you like this!”

“I can't stand to be like this! This…this…blubbering joke!” She looked at her sad reflection in the visor mirror. “You know, everyone thinks my life is perfect but it's not. I'm a joke. I'm an idiot.” She said it with convincing self-loathing, and I had never heard Tatum so down before. “Everyone makes allowances for me.”

It had never occurred to me that Tatum could feel this way.

“Even Brad. We're totally not getting along,” Tatum went on.

“BRAD?! You and Brad? But Brad's the bomb!” Brad was only the single hottest guy at high school. He was like that New England Patriots quarterback, but cuter (if that's possible).

Tatum gave a creeped-out look. “Anyway, I'm sure he'll be
much
more likely to break up with me now that I'm junior college–bound. After all, Brad got early acceptance into Michigan…but then again, he also got a 720 on his math SATs. Unlike me who got, like, a four.”

“Oh, Tatum, you did not get a four.”

“Okay, a five. Maybe I could train to become a valet parker. Or I could work at the mall. You know, hand out free samples of Cinnabons for the rest of my life…I'd be good at that. Ughh…I'm so pathetic.” She started to cry again and looked at her watch. She was startled. “Wait, what am I doing here? School's not even out yet! I freaked out so much that I just bolted!”

“Maybe you should come to the nurse's office.” I knew my offer wouldn't be welcome but it was something.

“Go to the junior high nurse? Okay, now I'm
really
having a crisis. No…I gotta get out of here. Tell Hadley to get a ride from someone else, okay?” She sounded sketchy and wasn't making the most sense. I saw her hands were shaking.

“Seriously, Tatum, you shouldn't be driving.”

“I gotta go, gotta go, gotta go. Sorry, Ms. Pitt!” With that, she erratically drove off. I halfheartedly tried to run after her but her Accord sped off like a comet. She even drove up onto the sidewalk on the way out.

“Oh, boy.”

This was big information. I had to do something to help Tatum…. I had never seen her like this and she shouldn't be driving, it was true. But mostly I was obsessing over the fact that Tatum's life was
not
perfect. And was it my imagination, or did she actually sound strangely envious…of…
me
?

I stood there,
dazed, absorbing this bizarre news.

First, I was standing, in Ms. Pitt's body, outside of my junior high blinking confusedly into the sun.

Weird.

Then, I had just heard my mythically, genetically, spectacularly beautiful sister say she was envious of ME.

Me with the flat chest and straw hair and nonexistent social life.

Doubly weird.

But Tatum was also in trouble, that was clear. She was a wreck and that was putting it mildly. She should NOT be behind the wheel.

Then I felt a hand practically strangle me from behind. I turned to see
myself
tackling me. Talk about a lucid nightmare.

“I heard you're being sent home early,” Hadley said
breathlessly. “Why? Did you lose control in front of Mr. Wells?”

“Chill, okay?! So I had a mini-meltdown! But considering the circumstances, I think I'm entitled!” I did have a point. “Mr. Hudson volunteered to drive you home. He totally digs you, by the way.”

I could see a bumbling Mr. Hudson out of the corner of my eye, calling, “One minute! Be there in one minute!”

Hadley silenced the thought. “I'd never get involved with a fellow teacher.”

“You should. You're at school most of the time, anyway,” I pointed out.

“I'm going to meet Mr. Right at yoga or the health food store or…” Hadley faded off.

There was a pregnant beat and I knew that yoga classes and health food stores probably weren't teeming with loads of single guys for Ms. Pitt to meet.

But I had to get back to the matter at hand. Or,
matters
at hand, actually. “Look, something's come up. I know my sister, Tatum, is a favorite student of yours and the rest of the civilized world, let's be honest. Anyway, she was just here and she's really freaking out. I've never ever seen her like that.”

“What's wrong?”

“She didn't get into Colorado State. It was her last choice and she was a wreck, having an early existential crisis. She practically crashed her car when she drove off—”

“Crashed her car?!”

“I know, that's why we have to help her. She could hurt someone or herself. We need to team up to help Tatum.”

Hadley just nodded solemnly and I knew we were committed. We may have had zero idea how to help ourselves and get unswitched, but we could unite to aid Tatum.

Mr. Hudson ran up, completely red in the face. “My Chevy Malibu won't start.” He looked down, humiliated. “As if driving a Chevy Malibu isn't embarrassing enough.”

Hadley really laughed at that one and I was pleased—it was about time Ms. Pitt woke up to the possibility of Mr. Hudson. He was what my grandma would call a “good egg.”

That's when the thought hit me! I'm in Ms. Pitt's body, and she's easily mid-thirties and has been driving for years—

Hadley didn't see it coming.

I reached into Ms. Pitt's purse and yanked out her keys, bolting for her car, a funky little Prius. It hummed
to life (literally—those hybrids are so quiet it's almost unnerving) and I put the pedal to the metal (and for the record, hybrids
can
move). I tore up and screeched to a halt in front of a horrified Hadley and Mr. Hudson. My face hurt I was smiling so huge.

I was
driving
!!!

“You can't drive! Get out
now
!” Hadley screeched.

But I just love it when you have facts on your side. “Fine. Do you have
your
license,
Hadley
?”

She was caught. Mr. Hudson shook his head in general confusion, which seemed to be a theme.

“Mr. Hudson, you have to drive,” Hadley stammered.

Mr. Hudson was so turned around he barely knew how to respond. “But—”

“Trust me on this one. You drive.” Hadley was insistent. “Neither one of us should be behind the wheel today.”

She had a point there. “How do you feel about a little adventure, Mr. Hudson?” I asked him with a grin and threw him the car keys.

“Why not?” Mr. Hudson smiled back at me (or should I say, smiled back at Ms. Pitt. His eyes were warm and I just knew he had it bad for her). “And it's Randy.”

“Right, right, Randy.” I could tell Mr. Hudson—or Randy—was shocked by how bold Ms. Pitt was being. He liked this attention.

Everyone climbed into the Prius. “We have to find my sister, Tatum,” I said.

“Your…sister?” Mr. Hudson asked.

“I mean…
my
sister. She's in trouble and we need to calm her down,” Hadley said.

“But…what about your big interview today? Shouldn't you get some rest?” Mr. Hudson asked with concern. “Weren't you told to—”

“I can't rest until I know Tatum's okay,” I said with utmost sincerity.

Mr. Hudson considered for a moment. “And that's exactly why you're the amazing teacher that you are,” he said, and Hadley audibly “aaahed” in response!

“That's sweet,” Hadley offered, and Mr. Hudson smiled back.

“You just always think of everyone else before yourself, don't you?” he said.

I realized it was probably true—and it was also why she couldn't wake up to the fact that this great guy was vying for her attention.

“Let's head to my house—er, Hadley's house—and
see if Tatum is there,” I said, and we headed off. We filled Mr. Hudson in on what Tatum was so destroyed about, and I wasn't surprised he knew who Tatum was. Jeez, even subs were getting fed on the mythology of Tatum!

We pulled up
in front of our house and I was so grateful that Mom would be at her pottery class. (Mom believed wholeheartedly in continually improving one's self, which meant she took a lot of classes, and our house was always littered with fairly terrible oil paintings and attempts at calligraphy and the like.) Regardless, I did NOT want to explain why I had brought two teachers to the house to look for her beyond-distraught golden daughter.

“I'll go to Tatum's room,” I said. By Mr. Hudson's puzzled eyes, I guess he didn't think a teacher would necessarily know where a student's room was in the house. “I've been to the house for dinner,” I said as if to explain. “You both blanket the rest of the house.”

We took off like bloodhounds in pursuit. Hadley whispered, “I'll check your room.” Meaning, MY room. Oh, this day…

Hadley bounded up the stairs with the agility and
spryness of a Disney woodland creature. When she reached the top of the stairs, she sailed down them again with a huge grin on her face.

“I can't believe how
fabulous
and
light
and
lithe
I feel!” Hadley chirped to me. “Seriously, your body is so spry and lightweight, it practically trots itself around! And no aches and pains, it's fantastic! Uh—if only yoga made me feel this way!” Hadley did a little playful shadowboxing and bopped about.

It was all a bit much and I put a hand on her head, silencing the bounce. “Why don't you hop on up to my room, then?” I asked.

Hadley nodded and ran up the stairs, entering my room. I chased after her. She was right about those aches and pains.

I could tell Ms. Pitt was eager to see a teenager's actual surroundings. She was acting like Jane Goodall, but instead of observing silverback gorillas, she was getting to see teenagers in their natural habitats.

And my room
is
fantastically organized for a teenager. My desk is obviously the fulcrum of the room and it's meticulously structured. Desk light, check. Ample supply of pens, check. Well-worn dictionary, check. All the tools were in plain sight that explained my drive and devotion to studies. I doubt that surprised Ms. Pitt one iota.

I heard a gasp. Ms. Pitt was clearly shocked by the rock band posters on the wall.

Immutable.

Sketched-Out Boy.

The IMs.

“Immutable?” she asked, pointing to the poster, perplexed.

“Oh, please don't admit you've never heard of Immutable?”

Hadley looked down, embarrassed, shaking her head no.

“They're huge! And all this time I thought you were so down with the teenage experience and everything….” I ribbed.

“I thought…I really thought I was….” I could see she really felt completely out of touch.

“Don't worry, Immutable's sort of fringe, anyway.” Hadley exhaled and I knew she was relieved.

Just then, Mr. Hudson poked his head into the room.

Hadley put on a forced smile. “Any luck finding Tatum?”

“Nope. I don't think she's here,” Mr. Hudson responded.

“Maybe Brad knows where she is. He's probably at tennis practice,” I stated matter-of-factly.

“Brad?”

“Tatum's boyfriend. They're tight,” I explained.

Mr. Hudson was in awe. “My God. When I said you were so in tune with the students, I had no idea! What are you, a mind reader?”

I gave Hadley a look and we smiled at each other and shook our heads. If you only knew, Mr. Hudson…

Hadley said, “Could we please have a moment alone?”

“Sure, I'll give you ladies a second. Be out waiting in the car.” Mr. Hudson exited good-naturedly.

Hadley grabbed me. “We'd all be better off if we were back in our own bodies,” she said. “Let's look up a solution quick on your computer. We haven't tried that yet.”

I booted up my iMac and figured it was worth an investigation. I was willing to try anything.

We Googled “body switch” and started scanning. It was NOT reassuring.

“Here's ‘body switching' at occultforums.com,” Hadley read. We both shuddered.

“Pass,” I said. “And links to body-switching movies. Not helpful.”

“Okay, here's another,” Hadley said. “‘The Mind Body Switch Technique is the signature ability of the Yamanaka clan. With it, a ninja sends his mind into a target's body
supplanting the target's mind with his own.'”

“So…we're either possessed or ninjas.” A second passed and we both burst into hysterics. The whole situation was so absurd, you had to laugh. It was either that or lose your mind completely. Then again, maybe we already had….

“Okay, focus. We have to focus,” Hadley said, trying to regain composure. We waited another second and burst into more laughter.

“Come on,” I said, wiping my eyes. “Clearly this is getting us nowhere. Let's get out of here.”

We bolted for the car and jumped in, and I think we were both shocked by this bizarre crazy girly-giggling bonding. It was almost like we were kooky teenagers on the verge, and frankly the release felt good. I hadn't laughed that hard in a long time—even if it was psychotic. Maybe I had been studying too darn much and needed to smell the roses, not just the Wite-Out.

“Everything okay?” Mr. Hudson asked a bit suspiciously.

“Oh, sure. Don't mind us, we're just collectively losing our mind,” Hadley said, and we practically had to bite our tongues to keep from laughing.

“So…where to?” Mr. Hudson asked as we pulled out.

“The high school. Let's check in with Tatum's boyfriend, Brad,” I said.

We pulled into the high school parking lot, and, as usual, it piqued my interest. I mean, all the students drove. Well, not everyone, but from my vantage point, most drove cars. Talk about exotic. I would love that freedom…. To be practically an adult like these high school students, to go on dates and to drive? Or better yet—to be practically college-bound and almost free? Bring it on!

We parked the car near the tennis courts and went to find Brad. Brad and Tatum were usually attached at the hip. They were so the perfect couple that it was very nearly nauseating. Then again…Tatum had said they weren't getting along. Maybe everyone struggles and there is no perfect existence…although from my perspective, it sure looked like Tatum was having the movie life. Maybe there
is
no movie life.

Brad was working on his serves, thunderously and meticulously slamming balls dead center to his imaginary opponent. He was tan and gorgeous, the consummate athlete. It was like Brad lived in different lighting, he was so divine.

We approached gingerly…Brad looked intent. I realized everyone was waiting for me to introduce our case,
and I was the one who knew Brad. But I wasn't Hadley, I was Ms. Pitt. I elbowed Hadley to speak already.

“Uh, say, uh, Bob?” Hadley asked.

“Brad!”
I whispered hotly.

“Brad?” she said again, and Brad turned. He was a total Greek god. He broke into a warm smile at the sight of me. How nice is that?

“Oh, hey, Hadley. How are ya?” Brad asked as he expertly dribbled his tennis ball in that very cool US Open way.

“Oh, don't ask,” Hadley said, and she snuck a look at me. “Sorry to interrupt but it's urgent. You wouldn't happen to know where Tatum is, would you?”

“No. Why? Everything okay?” Now Brad stopped playing around with the tennis ball and seemed really concerned. Lord, he was dreamy….

“Yeah. Should be fine. She's…well, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough. Just wondered if you know where she is, that's all. She was a little emotional before and I wanted to make sure she's okay,” I said.

“Um…Who are you again?” Brad asked.

Oh, right. Brad has no idea who Ms. Pitt is! “I'm Ms. Pitt, her former teacher. And I'm sure you know more than anyone that it's easy to adore a girl like Tatum.” I paused and looked right at Hadley and said quietly, “But
then again, I adore all my students.”

Hadley grinned back, and I think I saw her eyes glisten a little.

“Should I be worried?” Brad asked like the ultimate boyfriend. How could anything be wrong between them?

“I'm sure she'll be fine. Just want to track her down. Get back to your practice,” I said. “Have Tatum call me—uh, Hadley's cell phone—if you hear from her, okay?”

Brad agreed and our unlikely trio moved on.

As we walked away from the tennis court, Mr. Hudson pulled me aside. Which is to say, he thought he pulled Ms. Pitt aside…

“Now, listen. You're doing the noble thing being worried about another student like this. But I have to get you to your interview now,” Mr. Hudson said emphatically.

“Dude! No!” I said reflexively. “Which is to say…I can't,” I said quietly. Hadley overheard this.

“Yes, it's probably not the best idea for Ms. Pitt to be going to that interview in her current state,” Hadley said.

“Look, I believe in you. I know you're going through stress or something…” Mr. Hudson said.

“I'm freaky, right?” I asked.

“A bit. But the bottom line is you're the best person for the English chair position. You care about literature and how it can change lives. Instead of just about teaching for the tests, which is what they all want these days.”

“Oh, Mr. Hudson,” Hadley whispered with a bit too much emotion. I don't even think he heard her, which was lucky for all of us.

“Will you go to that interview, then? You're going to do great,” Mr. Hudson asked. For a substitute teacher, he was pretty intense.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Because you're
you
,” Mr. Hudson responded.

I mean, seriously, how does a girl argue with that?