Dead Girl in Love (2 page)

Ignoring her, I ran faster.

“Stop, thief! Someone catch her!”

Skidding around a corner, Alyce’s sneakers squeaked like they were screaming in protest. Up ahead was an exit. I sprinted for the double glass doors, slamming them open, blinking at natural brightness. I was outside!

The sun was disappearing behind the western hills—which surprised me, since I’d assumed it was morning. How long had I been in that coffin anyway? Fortunately, Green Briar Mortuary had more artificial lighting than a shopping mall at Christmas, so I could see just fine. With a quick glance, I took in the lush mowed lawn stretching out to a gated cemetery, the near-empty parking lot, and the startled look of a tattooed gardener as I jumped over the corner of the rose bed he was pruning. He swore, yelling for me to stop.

But I kept running.

Behind me, voices rose in anger. I caught the word “police,” which spurred me to run like escaping arrest was an Olympic event and I was sprinting for a medal. I hadn’t done anything wrong … but what about Alyce? If she’d broken laws, she must have had a good reason. Without knowing that reason, all I could do was make sure my best friend didn’t get caught.

Racing around a corner of the building, I headed for the parking lot. I hoped to find Alyce’s car—but I didn’t see it. How had she gotten here? No time to wonder, I realized, glancing over my shoulder. The saleswoman had given up the pursuit, but the tattooed gardener—who was younger and faster—was gaining on me.

Up ahead, a fence spread around the cemetery. I’d once tried to climb a cemetery fence with disastrous results. Not going through that again. I veered away, down the sidewalk of a street so desolate I didn’t see a single car driving by. My breath rasped and my legs ached like they were about to fall off, but I kept running, too scared to give up.

Hearing a shout behind me, I realized the gardener was getting even closer. I pushed myself faster but knew I couldn’t keep it up much longer, especially with the pounding in my chest and the heavy backpack slamming against my shoulders.

Attacking footsteps thudded louder, terrifyingly close now. I looked around frantically, searching for a building or yard to hide in. But the paved road, bordered by chain-link fencing and rural fields, stretched on endlessly.

Then I heard a honk and roaring engine.

Startled, I glanced back at a familiar blue Toyota zooming toward me. The passenger window was down. A girl with curly brown hair waved at me from behind the wheel.

“Amber!” she called in a voice I knew as well as my own.

When the car slowed beside me, I stared in shock.

At my own face.

“Hurry! Get in!”

I hesitated, but only for the micro-second it took me to glance back and see the gardener barely a leap away. Grabbing onto the door handle, I swung myself inside the Toyota (my mother’s car) and slammed the door. My rescuer punched the accelerator and we were out of there. The side mirror flashed a glimpse of the gardener as he flipped me off.

Turning slowly, I studied my rescuer. Me … yet not me. I had a good idea who was temporarily residing in my body—but still, it was a shock to come face-to-face with myself and realize that she wasn’t me. Like being trapped in a crazy dream where shards of reality swirled into kaleidoscope fragments.

First thought:
No way! I can’t be both the passenger and the driver of this car.

Second thought:
Why is my body wearing a dress and (horrors!) nylons?

Third thought:
Is that a zit growing on my chin?

Insanity squared by Impossibility = Belief.

The last time I’d seen my real body had been a lifetime ago. Well … actually only yesterday, but it felt longer. After living other lives for a few weeks, I’d finally, happily reunited with my own less-than-perfect-but-100-percent-wonderful body. Being myself—Amber Borden—was seriously heaven. I’d hugged my parents, played with my little triplet sisters, and cuddled my cat Snowy. It was like a Hallmark Channel homecoming, complete with tears, kisses, and laughter—except that an important person was missing from the happy reunion equation.

My BFF, Alyce.

She’d refused to even speak to me—which I deserved. While I had been body-switching my way through solving problems for other people, my best friend was going through a crisis. She wouldn’t say what was wrong, only that she needed to talk. She’d begged me to come over but I’d let her down. So when Grammy Greta asked me to become my best friend (literally), how could I refuse? It was my chance to fix things with Alyce. Besides, if someone had to temporarily live my best friend’s life, who better for the job than me?

So Alyce was off taking a soul vacation, and I was residing in her body.

This left my real body minus one resident.

Guess who’d stepped up for the job?

“Grammy?” I asked uncertainly as I clicked the seat belt into place.

She nodded. “Surprise, sweetie.”

My voice. My face. My grandmother.

“Yes,” she said cheerfully. “It really is me.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“My sentiments exactly. We have a lot to be thankful for,” Grammy Greta said with a reverent glance upward. “This is an amazing opportunity for both of us.”

“Amazing. Definitely,” I said, feeling dizzy as I stared at myself. I should have expected this, especially since I’d agreed to the plan, but up close and in person it blew my mind. I could hardly believe it was happening. “You really are in my body.”

“I promise to take good care of it until you return. Our assignments shouldn’t last for more than a few days, so relax and make the best of this experience.”

“I don’t even know how to start my assignment.”

“You’ve already started.”

“I have? How?” I shook my head, even more confused. “By being chased out of a mortuary? I don’t know what’s going on with Alyce. Is there any way of contacting her? Where exactly is she?”

“You know better than to ask those sorts of questions.” Grammy’s clipped tone slammed the door on my curiosity. “There isn’t much time. I need to get you home.”

“Home would be great! I can’t wait to see everybody.” My relief was huge—mostly because I’d been dreading facing Alyce’s disagreeable mother. Mrs. Perfetti had this way of looking at me like I was a puddle of pee the cat left on her floor.

“Sorry, sweetie, but you misunderstood.”

“Can’t I go back home with you?”

Grammy shook her curly head (well,
my
curly head actually, but if I started getting picky about pronouns I’d go crazy). “Don’t you remember the Nine Divine Rules for Temp Lifers?” she asked.

I bit my lip, nodding.

“Then you know the first rule
: Follow through on your Host Body’s obligations and plans
. You’re Alyce now, not Amber. While you’re in Alyce’s body, her house
is
your home.”

“But what if her house sucks? She doesn’t stay there much and would rather hang at my place. Bending the rules won’t hurt anything. We could tell everyone I’m … I mean, Alyce … is sleeping over with Amber.”

“Did she make plans to sleep over tonight?”

“Um … no.”

“Well, then. You know what you have to do—the sooner the better.” Grammy glanced in the rearview mirror, furrowing her brow. “Delay could be dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” I asked uneasily, still a little out of breath from all that running.

“There are always risks.”

“You mean … Dark Lifers?” I shivered, remembering my recent encounters with dark souls who refused to stay dead and hijacked living bodies. Except for a glowing grayness around their hands, they appeared like ordinary humans … until they reached out with predatory fingers and stole your energy.

“I have no evidence for concern.” Grammy glanced over her shoulder. “Still, we must remain cautious.”

“But you’re in charge of the Temp Lifer program—you should know everything.”

“Not for this assignment. I can’t tell you much,” she added with a shrug, momentarily lifting her hands from the wheel—which spun wildly and sent the car careening toward a telephone pole.

“Grammy!” I cried, clutching my seat. “Hands on the wheel!”

“Relax. I have it completely under control.”

She grabbed the wheel and jerked back into the right lane, giving me a determined smile. I had this flashback of myself showing similar confidence when I’d gotten lost driving, exaggerating how I had everything “under control” when inside my fears flapped like birds spinning blindly in a wind tunnel.

Was Grammy nervous, too, and hiding it?

“As I was saying … ” With only one hand on the wheel, she turned back to me. “Someone else is handling my job while I’m Earthbound, so I don’t have any upside information.”

“Then how did you know I was in trouble?”

“I received a short message with a map and a voice relay.”

“What’s a voice relay?”

“Unexplainable in Earth terms, but what matters is that I’ve been warned to hurry because of possible danger.”

My heart jumped. “Danger?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing more than a routine cautionary message.” She glanced in the rearview mirror then back at me. “I haven’t seen anything unusual although I’ve had this prickly feeling, like I’m being watched. But my perceptions are clouded while I’m in a physical form. Until our assignments end, I’m human just like you.”

Her words seemed like a bad pun considering that she was speaking through my voice. She wasn’t “just like me,” she
was
me. And I doubted I’d ever get used to the weirdness of body-swapping.

We’d gone far enough now that Green Briar Mortuary was rapidly fading to a bad memory. We passed under a Spanish stucco archway into a subdivision where all the homes were mission-styled: stucco siding, square and rectangular, a few even rising up to bell towers. My grandmother made a sudden left, turning so sharply I banged my elbow on the door. After “ouch” and “sorry,” we didn’t say anything for blocks. I was lost in thoughts about my assignment, trying to guess why Alyce had broken into the mortuary. Was she looking for something? Hiding from someone? Checking sale prices on caskets?

“You all right, sweetie?” Grammy patted my arm.

“Define ‘all right.’” I stared at her. “I still can’t get used to you … I mean, me.”

“Isn’t it a kick?” She chuckled. “It’s déjà vu, since I used to look a lot like you when I was a teen. Although it’s hard adjusting to the restrictions of a physical body—not being able to levitate or pass through solid objects. I got scratched trying to get inside this car without opening the door.” She pointed to a reddish scrape on her arm.

“Grammy, be careful with my body. It may not be perfect, but it’s all I’ve got.”

“No worries. I’ll get accustomed to gravity and solid matter soon. Look how fast I’ve adapted to driving.”

“Speaking of which,” I said, frowning, “why are you driving?”

“It’s faster than walking.”

“I’m serious, Grammy. You don’t have a license and never learned to drive.”

“What’s to learn?” She hit the gas pedal too sharply, jerking me forward. “I put the key in and twist. I figured out that the little
D
means drive. And the
R
means right.”

“No!
R
is reverse!”

“That explains a lot.” The car jerked back, then forward. “What’s this red button?”

“Don’t touch! That’s for hazard lights!” I pulled at her arm. “Grammy, be careful. Mom will go ballistic if you dent her car.”

“Your mother always did overreact. Luckily I’ll be around for a while to help her get organized and give her advice on raising the triplets.”

“Heaven help her,” I murmured, remembering how I used to cover my ears with my hands whenever Mom and Grammy had one of their “rows,” as Grammy called it.

“What did you say?” Grammy Greta asked.

“That I think it would help if I drove.”

“No time for that. I have to get back before Theresa—I mean,
Mom—
misses the car.”

“Please tell me you didn’t take Mom’s car without asking permission.”

“How else was I going to find you quickly?”

I groaned, visualizing being grounded for the rest of the school year and probably all summer, too.

A traffic light blinked from green to yellow and Grammy punched the brakes. This time I was prepared, grabbing tightly to the hand rest. I glanced with relief at the empty crosswalk, glad there weren’t any pedestrians for Grammy to run over.

“I’m getting the hang of this driving gig,” she said with a smile that radiated her own quirky personality. “I always meant to learn to drive. I may still.”

“Why bother? You’re already dead.”

“Dead is such a misunderstood word.”

“I was at your funeral.”

“Do I look dead to you?”

“No, you look like me and I look like Alyce, but we both know that’s not real.”

“Being a Temp Lifer is a real and a solemn responsibility,” my grandmother said. “It’s not a game.”

“I know, I know.” I rubbed my forehead. “I’m hearing my voice and watching my lips speak to me. It’s all so freaky.”

Grammy laughed. “Like that movie
Freaky Friday
.”

“Worse. That was a comedy and what we’re going through is serious drama.”

“You’re right—our assignments are serious. We must use paramount caution.”

“Paramount caution?” I repeated, rolling my eyes. “Grammy, you can
not
talk like that when you’re me.”

“Talk like what? I’m not clear on your meaning; could you elaborate?”

“No one elaborates at my age. Grammy, do you even hear yourself? You lecture me on how to behave, yet you’re not making any changes yourself. I mean, look at how you dressed. I didn’t even know I had a pair of nylons.”

“I found these in your mother’s room.”

“You snooped in Mom’s room?” I asked, horrified.

“How else could I find something decent to wear? This dress was in the back of your closet. It’s a little tight but I think it looks nice.”

“Nice as in boring and hideous,” I groaned. “There was a reason it was hidden in the back of my closet—it was a birthday gift from Aunt Suzanne.”

“My Suzy always did have excellent fashion sense. But I thought you two didn’t get along.”

“We don’t. I should have burned that dress.” I stuck out my tongue. “While you’re in my body, no more dresses and never, ever nylons. Wear jeans and T-shirts.”

She blinked like this was a startling idea. “Well … I suppose you’re right.”

“Yes, Gram, I am. Trust me on that.”