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For a moment I stood in her doorway, trying to work out what was going on. Because I was looking into my own bedroom. Or an exact copy of it. Red velvet curtains hung from the
ceiling, the curtains tied back with the same thick gold cords that I used on my fortune-teller’s tent at home. Identical cushions were scattered around, and the rug was in exactly the same
position as my own rug. Even the pattern matched.

Miranda stepped in. ‘Sorry about the mess,’ she said lightly, as if that was the only thing that might trouble me about her room.

‘Miranda! You’re back.’ Dallas was lying on the bed, as crumpled and grey as an unwashed sheet. He gazed at Miranda with the same look of delight that Ralph gave me when I
arrived home from school – but Ralph never looked like he’d been boozing solidly while I’d been away. Dallas managed to smile at me too. ‘Hey there, little Ol. Let me pour
you a drink.’

Dallas leant over the edge of the bed and produced a jug of something viciously blue. His arm muscles strained as he tipped the blue liquid into two paper cups and held them out to us.

‘Not for me thanks, Dal,’ I said, trying to sound jokey. ‘Blue is nature’s warning colour.’

‘Olive is being a total wet blanket,’ said Miranda. ‘She’s forgotten how to have fun.’

Dallas considered this and then fished out a little bottle of something red from his pocket. He shook a few drops of it into my cup and handed it to me.

‘Now it’s purple,’ he said, beaming like this somehow solved everything. ‘Nature
loves
purple. And so will you, little Ol, once you’ve tried this.’

I took the cup. Even the smell burned. ‘What
is
it?’

‘Zombie juice,’ Dallas said. ‘It could wake the dead.’

Just what we need here
, I thought.
Drunk undead people.
When he wasn’t looking I hid the cup in a corner.

Miranda clapped her hands. ‘Time for us to launch Luxe’s new album.’

‘It can’t be a launch,’ I said. ‘Vinnie and Pearl aren’t here.’
Or anyone else, for that matter.

Miranda was fiddling with her iPod – Katie’s iPod – which was plugged into a small set of speakers on the floor. ‘Why should they be here?’ she said.
‘They’re not even in the band any more.’

I gaped at her.

‘Luxe has outgrown them,’ said Miranda, like it should’ve been obvious. Then the music started up.

First there was just a single guitar, strummed by an uncertain hand. Then Dallas’s voice joined in. I would’ve known his voice anywhere, even sounding as weak and quavery as this.
And then there was another voice, female this time. She sang very softly to begin with, hovering in the background and harmonising with Dallas. But as the song progressed the female voice took on
the main melody. It was only then that I could make out the lyrics. They were about a girl – a beautiful, incredible, overwhelming girl. The sort that you’d die for.

‘That’s you, isn’t it?’ I said to Miranda. ‘Singing.’

Miranda clapped her hands in delight. ‘I wanted to surprise you. Are you surprised?’

I shouldn’t have been – Miranda had taken so much by then. Of course she’d try to take Luxe from me too.

Dallas had somehow managed to drag himself to an almost standing position. ‘I command that we dance,’ he said, beckoning to Miranda. ‘Come over here, you slinky thing
you,’ he said.

Dallas stumbled, almost falling over but managing to recover. He was crooning but seemed unsure of the words to his own song. Then he almost fell again. I couldn’t watch, but Miranda
didn’t seem bothered. She giggled and began twirling around him, like it was all part of some complicated routine they were doing together.

I could see then that extracting Dallas was not going to be easy. There was no way he would just come with me – even if I told him he was in danger. Dallas liked me, but it would only take
a few words from Miranda and he’d turn against me in a flash. And then he’d be lost for good.

I stared at the ground, seeing something pink and faded shoved under the bed. It was the T-shirt I’d worn during my suicide attempt. Ever since then it had been tucked in my bundle of
Proof in my room. At least, that’s where I’d thought it was. When I picked the T-shirt up, three glittery silver things slipped from its folds. My old charm bracelet. Miss
Falippi’s locket. A small silver key – the sort that was meant to keep a diary secure.

My hands started to shake, but I picked up the bracelet and looked at it. It had been my favourite thing once. After a moment’s hesitation I slipped it on, the charms making their familiar
jingling noise. I dropped the locket and the key into the pocket of Lachlan’s hoodie. I felt better. I’d started reclaiming a few things.

I looked up to see Miranda watching me with the same searching look she’d had on the drive here. Trying to work out what had changed. She unpeeled Dallas from around her and immediately he
sagged into the nearest chair.
Miranda is his backbone now
, I thought, chilled.

Miranda walked over to his jug of zombie juice and picked it up. ‘I wish you’d cheer up, Olive,’ she said. ‘You’re bringing us all down.’

I kept my face expressionless. Miranda poured out a fresh cup of zombie juice and held it out to me.

‘No, thanks.’

Miranda’s eyes glinted. ‘Take it.’

My dad had always been good at games and he liked teaching me winning strategies. I’d blocked them out since he left, but one of them came to me anyway.
Pet, sometimes pretending that
you’re losing is the best way of winning.

I took the cup. It was made of soft plastic and the slightest pressure of my fingers made the blue liquid rise until it nearly spilled over the edge.

‘Go on,’ said Miranda. ‘Drink it.’

I opened my mouth and poured the contents down my throat in one steady stream. Dallas whistled and cheered. Miranda refilled my cup and when I drank that she filled the cup again. As I drained
the final drop the room began to turn. I staggered a little as the zombie juice took hold.

‘You look so funny,’ Miranda tittered. ‘Especially in that hoodie. Not like you at all. You used to have such interesting taste. Well,
different
at least. Now you just
look the same as everyone else. But deep inside that’s what you are anyway, aren’t you? Boring and mainstream.’

A new track began to play. A Luxe cover band
–
that’s what this music sounded like. I was having trouble standing up now and I stretched out my arms, trying to find something
to steady myself on.

‘
I
know what’s wrong with you tonight,’ Miranda announced triumphantly. ‘It’s these new songs, isn’t it? Because they’re all about me –
about how Dallas loves me more than anything else in the world. Poor Olive. It must eat you up.’

The whirling, woozy feeling in my head was speeding up. I tried to slow it down by focusing on a single spot on the wall. Miranda stepped closer. ‘So does it?’ she whispered.
‘Eat you up inside?’

Don’t let anyone see your cards, Pet. Especially when you’ve got a winner’s hand.

‘Lots of girls would kill to be in your position,’ I said. ‘And have what you have.’

‘But what about
you
?’ hissed Miranda. ‘Would
you
kill to be in my position? Do you want to be me and have everything I have?’

I should’ve just nodded meekly. Or just said nothing at all. Lulled Miranda into believing everything was OK so that I could work on a way of getting Dallas out of there. But frankly I was
sick of these games, and I wanted Miranda to know just how much she’d misjudged me.

‘No,’ I said, looking straight at her. ‘I wouldn’t kill to be you.’

Miranda’s eyes were like two letterboxes. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I’m not in love with Dallas,’ I said simply.

Miranda’s mouth fell open.

‘What are you two girlies talking about over there?’ Dallas slurred from his chair. ‘Come back and dance. The three of us.’

Miranda was still staring at me. ‘You
are
in love with him,’ she insisted – like a teacher trying to drill facts into a stubborn, stupid student. ‘That’s why
we saw Luxe in the first place.’

I put my finger on my chin, pretending to consider this. ‘No,’ I said after a moment. ‘No, I’m definitely not in love with him.’ Then I smiled. ‘Here’s
something you might find funny. It was at the Rainbow gig that I figured out I wasn’t crushing on Dallas. It was his
music
I loved. So I owe you. If you hadn’t talked me into
going that night, I never would’ve figured out who I was really in love with.’

Sheiss.
Me and my big, fat blurty mouth …

Miranda was leaning in so close that her face was practically touching mine. ‘Who? Who are you in love with then?’

‘No-one,’ I said, my hands and face clammy all of a sudden. ‘I was joking.’

‘Olive?’ Dallas’s voice was surprisingly strong, and when I turned to him his eyes had lost their murkiness. ‘Why are you wearing Lachlan’s hoodie?’

At first Miranda didn’t register what he’d said – she was too busy glaring at me. But then I saw Dallas’s words sink in and her eyes fix on the hoodie. By the time she
looked at my face again, she’d started sniggering. The sniggering bloomed into laughter until she was practically hysterical.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, when she’d recovered enough to speak. ‘I’m just trying to imagine you and Lachlan as a couple. It’s too funny.’

I remembered how Lachlan’s arms had felt around me. I remembered his warm mouth against mine. ‘I don’t think it’s funny,’ I said.

Miranda wiped her eyes. ‘Oh come off it, Olive,’ she said. ‘I mean, I kind of admire you saying that you don’t care if everyone found out about Ami and your little
incident
. But that was just a bluff, right? Do you think a guy like Lachlan – someone who could have anyone he wanted – is going to stick around once he finds out the truth about
you?’

I didn’t bother replying. There was no point. Just like there was no point in me staying here. I was done with Miranda. And Dallas wasn’t going to come with me.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ she said.

‘Away,’ I said. ‘Far away from you.’

It was Dallas who stopped me. He lurched from his chair and draped his arms around Miranda and me. ‘Hey, no fighting,’ he said. ‘This is a
party.
We all love each other
here.’

‘Get off!’ Miranda yelled at him, shoving him away. ‘You’re always
pawing
at me. I’m sick of it.’

If I’m logical about it – rational – I know that it was the way Miranda shoved Dallas that caused him to fall, to slip on the rug and knock his head on the table. He was so
shaky and unstable anyway. But to me it seemed like it was what Miranda said to him that caused it, and the look of absolute hatred she flashed him.

When he hit the ground, his eyes closed.

‘Dallas!’ I leapt over to him, knelt down and rolled him onto his back. There was blood on his forehead, and a sudden purple swelling underneath it. I patted his face. Gently at
first, then more firmly. ‘Dallas?’

He made a vague noise but his eyes stayed closed.

I stood up. ‘Give me your phone,’ I said to Miranda. ‘We have to call an ambulance.’

Miranda looked down at Dallas as if she wasn’t sure who he was or how he’d ended up on her floor. Like he was something boring.

I wanted to shake her. ‘He’s hurt!’

Miranda rolled her eyes. ‘He’s just drunk. As usual. Let him sleep it off.’

I shouldn’t have been shocked, of course. I’d suspected for a long time that her interest in Dallas was just a way of getting at me. So it made perfect sense that she’d give up
the pretence the moment she realised I had no feelings for Dallas. No
romantic
feelings, that is. I did still care for him. A lot.

I felt the anger rush up through me as I headed for the bedroom door. Clearly Miranda wasn’t about to hand over her phone. I’d have to track down the landline. ‘God, Miranda.
Why are you
like
this?’

I wasn’t expecting an answer.

‘You know why I’m like this.’ Miranda sounded calm. ‘You’ve always known. You just let everyone convince you that you were wrong.’

I stood there, hand poised over the door handle as Miranda walked up and stopped beside me. I found myself looking at her mouth, knowing exactly what she was going to say even as her lips were
forming the words.

‘I’m a shapeshifter.’

There was this time – I was just a kid – when I’d known something that no-one else had known. It was one of those silly bits of information that you grab onto
as a kid.
Flies take off backwards
. I’d taken my interesting fact to school and told everyone during show-and-tell. No-one had believed me – not even the teacher – and by
the end of the day I’d started to doubt it myself.

But the next morning the teacher stood up the front of the class and made an announcement. ‘Olive was correct,’ she said. ‘I checked, and flies do take off backwards.’
Then she apologised for not believing me, and made everyone else apologise too.

When Miranda said that she was a shapeshifter I had the same feeling of triumph. I wanted to call Dr Richter.
See? I was right. Now apologise.