Projection (8 page)

It’s not going to work. It’s not going to work
. Gretchen repeated this to herself half a dozen times. But still, her heart was pounding, and she could feel herself starting to sweat despite the desert chill that always set in after the sun went down.

Jessica seemed so sure it was all for real; Gretchen wondered if she really believed it or if Jessica, too, was just bluffing.

“So what’s the plan?” Gretchen asked.

“I think the plan is just to observe and to gather as much information as possible. It’ll be like looking at our worlds with a whole new set of eyes. Things that seem normal to me might seem totally weird to you, and things that you would
never think twice about might seem really suspicious to me. But I think we should both try to lay low. Try not to go out a lot, don’t talk too much to anyone if you can help it. Remember, everyone is going to think that you’re me and I’m you, so if we act different than normal, we’re going to draw attention to ourselves. And the last thing we want is for people to be saying that either of us has been acting strange.”

Gretchen nodded that she understood. “Assuming that this really works”—
it’s not going to work
—“I think we should only do it for twenty-four hours.”

“Agreed. We meet back here tomorrow night at ten
P.M.
”

“Okay,” Gretchen said with a long, nervous sigh. “Let’s do this.”

At first, Gretchen couldn’t
clear her head of anything. Her mind was racing in a million different directions—kissing Jessica, the anklet, Nick Ford, her mom, her dad, Ariel Miller, Michelle. She thought about starting high school, about the night of the party, about drinking the apple martini, and about how she left that part out when the police questioned her. She thought about how Jessica had appeared in the hallway and then quietly taken her aside, asking her not to say anything about Rob getting them drinks, or about Rob at all, actually. He didn’t want Michelle to find out, and even in the state of shock Gretchen had been in, she’d understood. Michelle
was
terrifying.

“Clear your mind,” Jessica said in a soft, low voice. “Clear your mind. Picture the anklet shining in the sun, and imagine that you are the warm amber. Nothing but warm. Nothing at all.”

Gretchen could see the anklet on her mother’s ankle, the sunlight glinting off of it. She relaxed into the image of it,
letting all of her thoughts fall away as Jessica’s voice trailed off. She was the amber. She was warm.
It’s not going to work. It’s not going to work. It’s not going to work
. Her breathing slowed, her mind repeating the mantra with each exhale.
It’s not going to work. It’s not going to work
. She felt like nothing, like she was asleep and awake all at the same time.

She heard Jessica whispering in Greek. “
Écho exorísei aíma egó dió xei ostó n, proválloun ti n psychí mou se állo spíti
.” And then she felt Jessica’s mouth on hers, and as she inhaled, a warmth like nothing she’d ever experienced was filling her up. It felt as if she’d swallowed the sun itself. And then she opened her eyes, and she felt cold again.

“Holy shit,” Jessica said. Except it wasn’t Jessica’s mouth that formed the words, and it wasn’t Jessica’s voice that spoke them. It was hers. But yet, it wasn’t hers, exactly. Her voice sounded different, coming out of Jessica’s throat. It sounded just like the way it did whenever she heard herself on video.

I can’t believe it worked!
But before she could verbalize the thought, before she could examine her own face staring at her, before she could even pinch herself to make sure this was all real, she noticed a bright light coming from the door of the teepee. On instinct she turned toward it.

“Smile,” said Ariel Miller’s voice from behind the light. “You’re on candid camera!” She let out a gleefully wicked laugh, and then the light disappeared, leaving nothing but the black cashmere darkness and the fast crunching of wood chips as she ran away.

“Oh, no,” Gretchen said slowly. The realization of what had just happened sank in. Her own face, suddenly drained of color, stared back at her, eyes blinking. It felt different to speak with Jessica’s mouth. She pushed her tongue against
the unfamiliar front teeth, noting that they were further away than her own.

“We are so screwed,” she said, trying it out again. “Do you understand what just happened? Ariel Miller just saw us trade souls!” She watched, fascinated, as Jessica shook Gretchen’s own head from side to side. She realized that she, like everyone, had only ever seen herself reflected in a mirror.
What a cool thing
, she thought,
to be able to see myself the way everyone else does
.

“No,” said her mouth, which, she’d never noticed before, was slightly lopsided. “She didn’t see us trade souls. She has no idea about all of that. All she saw was us kissing for a split second. Big deal.”

“But what if she does?” Gretchen asked, trying not to focus on the fact that she was actually Jessica. That she was
inhabiting
Jessica. “What if she knows about the Plotinus Ability?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How could she know? Nobody even talks to her, let alone shares secrets with her.”

Gretchen revealed her theory about Ariel murdering her mom in order to steal the anklet and start a society of her own. Jessica just stared back at her with Gretchen’s big, blue eyes, the long, dark lashes framing them like tiny spider legs.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Gretchen. How could she possibly know about it? Who would ever have told her? She’s not friends with anyone in the Oculus Society. Come on, think about it. There’s no way she knows.”

Gretchen crumbled a stray, brittle leaf between her fingers. She supposed that Jessica was right. There really was no way that Ariel could know about the Plotinus Ability—or the anklet, for that matter. She realized that maybe she’d indulged in a little wishful thinking of her own.

“All right, I see your point.” She lifted her chin. “I still think she did it, though. I texted her tonight before we came here. I asked her if she hated the Oculus Society enough to commit murder.”

“No, you did not. Please tell me you didn’t do that,” Jessica pleaded. But Gretchen just looked at her hands. At Jessica’s hands. Ew. The skin around her fingers was red and raw, and the nails were jagged, gibbous moons in their nail beds. Jessica let out a long sigh at Gretchen’s failure to respond.

“What did she say?” she finally asked.

Gretchen looked up. It startled her all over again to see her own face looking back at her. “She said that I would be sorry that I ever started with her. She said that I should consider myself warned.”

Jessica shook her head. “Well, congratulations, then. You just unleashed the wrath of Ariel Miller.” She sighed again. “When we switch back, you’d better go and apologize to her.”

“Why?” Gretchen demanded.

“Because she may not know that we projected, but if she shows that video to anyone, our high school social lives will be over before they even start.” She shook her head. “And if we end up like Ariel—us, the future leaders of the Oculus Society and the entire town of Delphi—we’ll bring the whole Oculus Society down with us. Nobody will ever take them seriously again.”

Jessica’s room was a
mess. Piles of clothes, damp towels, out-of-date magazines, and empty shopping bags covered the carpet like moss on a forest floor. As she dangled her foot in the air, looking for an empty spot to place it in, Gretchen was reminded of when she used to walk across tide pools at the beach, searching out rocks sturdy enough to step on.

It was strange enough being Jessica, but it wasn’t until she walked into Jessica’s room that she began to consider she might be in over her head. For starters, she had never been in Jessica’s room alone. She felt like an intruder. As she caught sight of a dirty bra lying on the floor, she thought of how Jessica was alone in her room right now. She cursed herself for not taking a few minutes to tidy up and to make sure that nothing embarrassing was lying around. Not that she had anything to be embarrassed about. Compared to Jessica’s, her room was spotless enough to be in a catalog.

At the foot of the bed, she caught sight of Mr. Pants. She almost smiled. For the past few years, Jessica always made
sure to put the worn little bear away when Gretchen came over. So clearly she wasn’t worried about any secrets Gretchen might discover.

She picked up a few of the wet towels and hung them up in the bathroom, then searched through Jessica’s drawers for something to sleep in. The thought of having to wear Jessica’s underwear creeped her out a little, but she reminded herself that it was Jessica’s body, not hers. All she wanted to do was hide out in Jessica’s room and have as little human contact as possible.

Gretchen slipped into a pair of sweatpants and an old looking T-shirt, feeling that same sense of creepiness again when she reached for Jessica’s toothbrush.
There is nothing gross about this
, she told herself as she brushed Jessica’s teeth. When she was ready for bed, she perused Jessica’s book shelf. It was mostly filled with books that had been required reading for school over the last few year:
To Kill a Mockingbird, Flowers for Algernon, Lord of the Flies, Animal Farm
. But Gretchen managed to find a paperback with some relatively attractive, undead looking teenagers on the cover, and finally slipped into Jessica’s bed.

She’d read about three chapters when her stomach—no, Jessica’s stomach—began to growl. Suddenly, she was starving. She had no idea when, or if, Jessica had eaten dinner that night. Jessica’s stomach gurgled again, loudly. She had to eat something. There was no way she was going to chance going to the kitchen for a snack, but she knew Jessica always kept a stash of candy in her bottom desk drawer, so Gretchen got out of bed and opened it up.

Ick
. Just a bag full of fun-sized Butterfingers. They were Jessica’s favorite, but Gretchen hated them. She couldn’t stand the taste of peanut butter, and besides, she liked chocolate
bars that were smooth and creamy, like Milky Way or Three Musketeers. The crunchy, flaky consistency of Butterfingers was nauseating to her.

Another grumble came, as if Jessica’s stomach sensed the presence of food.
Oh, what the hell
, Gretchen thought. She reached for a piece of candy and peeled off the wrapper. It was better than going hungry all night. She popped it in her mouth and began to chew quickly, hoping it would go down fast so she could get it over with and satisfy Jessica’s noisy, complaining gut. But as the crunchy inside of the chocolate bar hit her taste buds, she slowed down and began to savor it.

This is delicious
, she thought.
Why do I never eat these?
She opened up another one and took a cautious bite. Still delicious. For a second, she was confused—why did she suddenly like this?—but then she realized that she didn’t. They weren’t her taste buds reacting this way to the Butterfingers. They were Jessica’s.

This is so freaking weird
.

By the sixth piece of candy, Gretchen was feeling full again, if not slightly ill. She crawled back into bed and picked up the vampire book again. Four chapters later, there was a knock at the door. Gretchen’s heart sped up, and she felt panicky. Jessica had told her that Michelle and Rob were out that night; the house had been empty when she’d gotten there earlier.
Crap
. She needed more time to get used to the idea of being Jessica before she had to actually talk to anyone. But now she had no choice.

“Come in,” she said, trying to control the shakiness in her voice. The door pushed open. It was Rob.

“Hey,” he said. His eyes narrowed as he took her in. “Are you
reading
?” He said the word with a mix of disdain and disbelief, as if he’d asked if she was plunging
toilets. Of course: Jessica didn’t read books. She tossed the book aside.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just some book Gretchen told me to read. It’s
really
boring.”

Rob approached the bed and picked up the book, studying the back cover. He began to read from it an amused voice.

“I
know
,” Gretchen said, trying to sound like Jessica. “It’s
so
stupid.”

“Gretchen told you read this, huh? How is Gretchen?” Rob asked.

Gretchen tried not to stiffen. “She’s, um, you know. She’s as good as she can be, I guess, under the circumstances.”

Rob shook his head. “It’s really such a shame what happened. Do they have any leads yet?”

“No. Not that I know of. The detectives told …” she almost said
me
, but caught herself just in time. “They told Gretchen that it’s a cold case. No leads, no suspects. They can’t find anyone who might have had a grudge against her or a reason for wanting her dead. And you know, normally the husband would automatically be a suspect, but like, a dozen people saw—”
Her
dad. Not
my
dad.
Her
dad. “Saw her dad downstairs while it was happening.”

Rob nodded thoughtfully. “And what about Gretchen? What does she think?”

Gretchen forced a smile. “Oh, well, Gretchen thinks that it
was a girl in our class.”

Rob looked up, surprised. “A girl in your class? Who?”

“Ariel Miller. You wouldn’t know her. She’s a huge loser.”

“Why would she want to kill Gretchen’s mom?”
Shoot
, Gretchen thought.
I shouldn’t have said anything. I can’t tell him about the anklet
. She tried to backpedal.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s crazy. I don’t think she really thinks that. It’s just, um, I think she’s just looking for someone to blame, you know?”

Rob shrugged. “I guess. Must be hard.”

Gretchen didn’t want to talk about this anymore. She just wanted Rob to leave. “So what did you want, anyway?”