But those angry eyes continued to burn in my memory, and while I didn’t personally know the redheaded girl, I was positive she knew—and hated—Sharayah.
“Are you done yet?” Mauve asked, stepping out of the car. She walked over, then glanced down at the ground and made a bitter face. “Eww, that’s so gross.”
“Sorry.” I wobbled back into the car on rubbery legs and snapped my seat belt back on. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Ha!” Mauve snorted. “Try telling that to someone who hasn’t roomed with you for three months. But hey, it’s all in fun.”
Fun? Getting sick and spewing in a parking lot was fun? Did Mauve really mean that or was she being sarcastic again? It was impossible to tell with Mauve (was that her real name, anyway, or an accessory to match her hair?). Her sarcasm didn’t faze me, though, not like the hatred from the red-haired girl. Who was she and what did she have against Sharayah? If facial expressions came with subtitles, hers would have read, “Die a painful death right now so I can laugh while you suffer.”
I couldn’t get her twisted fury out of my head, and there was also this gnawing feeling … an odd sense of recognition, as if something inside my borrowed body remembered her with emotions of bitterness, fear, and guilt.
Sadie started the car, its headlights sweeping across the parking lot. I peered through the misty light for the girl but saw only reflections of headlights glaring back at me.
“Did you see that girl?” I tapped Sadie’s shoulder as the car shifted with a lurch into reverse. “Hiding in a car?”
“What girl?” Sadie asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“Over there—in that row.” I pointed. “She had curly red hair and was just sitting alone in one of those cars. Did either of you see her?”
“All I saw was my roommate puking,” Mauve said.
Sadie looked around curiously. “Which car?”
“That car … or maybe that one … ” Murky shapes blended together. “I’m not sure anymore.”
“Well, duh,” Mauve said dryly. “You’re so wasted you’re hallucinating.”
“No, I’m feeling fine now and know what I saw. A mid-sized car, either brown or black, and there was this girl with red hair glaring at me like she wanted me dead. Do you know of a girl that hates me?”
“A girl? You’ve pissed off so many girls they probably have a club.” Mauve chuckled. “You won’t win any popularity awards around here—at least with the girlfriends of guys you hit on.”
“You don’t want to be boring and self-righteous like them anyway,” Sadie said.
“Especially Katelyn Myers,” Mauve added. “She really hates you.”
“No big loss.” Sadie settled back into the driver’s seat, catching my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Katelyn thinks she’s all that ’cause she won a beauty pageant. The way she goes around showing off her tiara makes me want to, well, what you just did. It’s not even a real title—she was Miss Pickle Barrel, which is definitely something I wouldn’t brag about if I were her.”
We left the parking lot and as I replayed the red-haired-girl incident in my head, I decided it was random, not personal. If I saw someone puking in the parking lot, I’d be disgusted and might glare at them, too. That didn’t mean the girl had any malicious intent against me. Blame my paranoia or being overtired and overwhelmed. People who sent threats were cowards and rarely had the guts to actually follow through. Sharayah wasn’t in real danger—except from her self-destructive behavior. I dreaded telling Eli what I’d found out about his sister.
But there was no rush to tell him. I’d wait until I figured out a way to solve Sharayah’s problems. If everything worked out and Sharayah started seeing her family again, Eli would be really grateful to me. We’d finally go out on our first real date. He’d bring me flowers and I’d surprise him with a box of chocolates—which we’d share. I was envisioning a romantic future with Eli as I leaned my head against the seat, having no plans to close my eyes or go to sleep.
But I did anyway.
When I woke up, the fog had burned off and we were stopped in traffic under a glaring sun. Not the kind of traffic that crawled slowly, bumper to bumper, but the kind where you’re jammed in on every side by an infinite string of cars with no hope of getting anywhere. The CD in our car blared rap so loudly that my head throbbed, and underneath the noise I heard swearing.
“This sucks! It’ll be tomorrow before we get to the beach. This is more like a parking lot than a freeway! What’s with all these cars? Damn!” Mauve waved her fist as if the traffic was a personal insult against her.
“I saw a sign warning about road construction,” Sadie said, “but I never expected it to be this bad.”
“Stupid construction! If this traffic doesn’t move soon, we’ll die here of old age.” Mauve reached across the front seat to smack the horn, which accomplished nothing except pissing off other drivers who honked their horns. My head hurt.
“I can’t believe I slept for so long!” I groaned. “Where are we anyway?”
“Somewhere between Bakersfield and hell,” Mauve grumbled, catching my gaze in the rearview mirror. “I thought we’d avoid traffic by leaving early.”
I leaned forward to check the clock on the dashboard, and nearly flipped out. I’d been asleep for over three hours—which meant we’d driven nearly two hundred miles away from the dorm. Away from Eli.
Leaning over to Mauve, I held out my hand. “I need your phone!”
“Huh?” Mauve flipped her pink hair from her eyes and turned toward me as if she’d forgotten I existed.
“Your phone. Now!”
“Oh, sure. Why didn’t you ask sooner?” Mauve turned around with her hand extended toward me. “Who you calling?”
“Um … a friend.”
“I bet I know.” Sadie glanced over the seat at me, grinning knowingly. “James.”
Mauve raised her brows, but didn’t ask any questions as I took the pink-cased flip phone. Quickly, I tapped in the number. Numbers I was good with—but having a boyfriend was still new to me, and obviously I sucked at it as badly as I did at being a Temp Lifer. I hoped Eli wasn’t too mad about being stood up.
Eli picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” His tone sounded puzzled, as if he was staring at the phone screen trying to figure out who was calling.
I wanted to say so many things, but even with the CD playing I suspected my companions would overhear, so I just whispered, “It’s me.”
“Sharay … um … Amber?”
“You got it on the second guess.”
“Amber!” He exclaimed with both relief and anger. “Where the hell are you?”
“Somewhere on I-5 headed south.” I looked out the window at a sea of stalled traffic wedged in by rocky, weed-spotted hills with an occasional flat oasis of emerald green fields.
“You’re WHERE?! Why didn’t you wait for me at the college?” His voice exploded through the phone so loudly that Mauve heard it over her the rap music and turned around with a questioning gaze. I shrugged with my arms out as if to gesture that dealing with irate guys was no big deal.
But it was a big deal to me and I felt awful.
“I’m so sorry, E—” I almost spoke his name until I caught myself and lowered my voice. “Everything happened fast and I couldn’t figure a way out.”
“Ever think of saying no?” he demanded. “I freaking can’t believe this.”
“Me, either.” My seat belt tugged at my waist as I slumped in my seat. “I can’t really explain now.”
“It’s been four hours and twenty-five minutes since I heard from you,” he calculated in that savvy math-geek way that had attracted me to him in the first place. “What took you so long to call?”
“Um … this body had a rough night … I kind of fell asleep.”
There was silence for a minute, then I heard his sigh. “I’m trying to stay cool about all of this, but do you have any idea what I thought when I couldn’
t get you on the phone or find you at the dorm?”
I winced with guilt. “No.”
“Well first I had to prove to the residential assistant that I was Sharayah’s brother before she even let me in the dorm. She escorted me to your—I mean, Sharayah’s—room. We knocked but no one was there.”
“We’d already left.”
“Obviously—but I didn’t know that and I thought you might be in trouble, so I insisted the R.A. open the door. She was already pissed at my showing up so early but seemed worried, too, so she used her key to open the door. When I saw how trashed the room was and found the broken phone, I was ready to call 911. But this girl from across the hall, Katelyn, came over and said that’s how the room usually looks.”
“Your sister is a slob,” I agreed.
“She didn’t used to be—but then, she didn’t used to be a lot of things,” he said sadly. “Katelyn told me she’d heard you and your roommate leaving about an hour earlier. She didn’t seem to like my sister very much.”
“I’ve heard,” I said wryly. “So where are you now?”
He didn’t answer, and I thought the phone had disconnected until I heard him clear his throat. “Um … well, I couldn’t leave without finding you and the resident manager wouldn’t let me wait in the room for legal reasons because only half of the room belongs to my sister. I didn’t know whether to leave or wait for you to come back. But then Katelyn offered to let me wait in her room, so that’s where I am.”
“In her room?”
“It was either there or my car.”
“I choose your car.”
“Where else was I supposed to go? You didn’t even leave me a note.”
“I didn’t get a chance.” I tried to sound calm and not let on that I wanted to rip out Katelyn’s hair. I wasn’t jealous. Not me. “So are you still with the bi … I mean, Katelyn?”
“I’m in her room but she’s not here.”
“Where is she?”
“In the shower.”
“Shower!” My voice rose so loudly that Sadie and Mauve turned to stare at me.
“Who’s getting naked?” Sadie giggled.
“At least someone’s having fun,” Mauve said with a pouty scowl.
I covered the mouthpiece with my hand and told them, “It’s not like that. My friend is describing how to fix a shower drain.” I added an exaggerated eye roll like I was bored out of my mind, hoping they would lose interest and turn around.
They finally did—but not because of anything I said. A red convertible in the next lane caught Mauve’s attention and she whipped around to point. “Check it out!” she shouted, “Hot guys!”
While Mauve rolled her window down, I returned my attention to Eli who was saying, “—shower is way down the hall. But even if it was in the same room, what does it matter? Are you jealous?”
“No way,” I lied.
“Sure about that?”
“Positive,” I retorted. “But you don’t need to stay there anymore.”
“I know, I’m coming to get you,” Eli offered. “Where are you headed?”
“A condo in Venice Beach,” I told him, my gaze drifting over to Mauve, who was half-hanging out the window waving at the guys in the next lane.
“It’ll take me hours to drive that far. Wait at a rest stop or business and I’ll pick you up. Tell your friends you need to go home because of a family emergency.”
“I can’t change plans now.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I’m supposed to follow through on your sister’s plans. And I’m safer away from the dorm, anyway.”
“Safer? What are you talking about?”
“Sharayah has been getting threats, although they could be a joke.”
“Threats? What kind of mess has my sister gotten into?” Eli groaned. “Any idea who sent them?”
I hesitated, thinking of the red-haired girl. “Not really.”
“Damn. Why didn’t Sharayah tell us? I feel like I’ve let her down.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Be careful, and stick close to Shari’s friends.”
I looked over at Mauve and Sadie, who were both hanging out their separate windows as they flirted with the guys in the convertible.
“Tops up!” Mauve called over to Sadie.
“On the count of three!” Sadie giggled.
“One, two—” Mauve began.
“Three!” Sadie finished.
They flipped up their tops and flashed the guys. It happened so fast that all I caught was a flash of arms lifting and flesh. Nudity on Interstate Five!
“—don’t go anywhere alone,” Eli was saying.
“No such luck,” I said ruefully.
“It’s a good thing you left the college. You’ll be safer around my sister’s friends.”
Safer—assuming my companions didn’t get arrested for indecent exposure!
Shaking my head, I turned away from the road show and assured Eli I’d be fine. “But things will be easier once I consult with my GEM.”
“GEM? What’s that?”
“A Temp Lifer guidance manual.” I spoke so softly I could hardly hear myself. “If I ask the book a question, it’ll tell me stuff about my mission.”
“Your grandmother gave you a manual? Great! When did you see her?”
“I didn’t actually see her.” I hesitated, wondering how much weirdness Eli could take. “The book was delivered by … you won’t believe it.”
“Try me.”
I swallowed, then glanced up to make sure Mauve and Sadie couldn’t overhear (they were now whistling cat calls at the “Hot Guys”), then blurted out the famous name.
He gasped. “You talked with her?”
“It wasn’t really her. She was replaced with a Temp Lifer like me—except, well, this TL has been doing this for way longer.”
“Did you get her autograph?”
“How can you even ask such a question?” I tried to sound insulted so he wouldn’t guess how close I came to doing just that. “Celebrities don’t impress me. They’re just ordinary people like us.”
“Ordinary—you are definitely not.”
“Tell me about it.” I groaned as I glanced down at my borrowed body. “But at least the GEM will help.”
“Shari seriously needs help. Can your book explain why she changed so much and why someone’s stalking her?”
“I’ll ask,” I said, reaching for Sharayah’s purse.
Laughter erupted from the front seat. I glanced up as Mauve flung open her door and gestured toward the two guys in the red convertible. Wasn’t flashing them bad enough? Now she was inviting them over! I looked at Sadie, hoping she’d have some common sense, but she had her door open, too, and was waving eagerly at the guys.
Pure insanity! Those guys could be perverts or ex-convicts or even married. I’d never behave so irresponsibly … but what about the real Sharayah? I had a bad feeling she would have flashed, too—but not because she enjoyed being a player. Her body sent me simmering undercurrents of anger and guilt. No, she didn’t party to have a good time; she partied to punish herself.
I hoped the GEM would help me solve her crisis.
Tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder, I reached inside the purse—but didn’t feel the squared edges of a book. Puzzled, I dumped the purse out. A wallet, keys, makeup and other items fell in my lap.
No gold-covered book.
My body went hot, then cold, and then scorching hot as my thoughts raced back to when I’d last seen the GEM. I was in the dorm, sick with nausea and so exhausted I couldn’t stay awake. I was positive I’d tossed the GEM into Sharayah’s purse. I’d heard a soft thud as it hit the purse. But did I check to make sure it fell inside? Um … nope.
“Amber! Are you there?” I heard Eli calling. “Say something.”
“I don’t have the GEM.” I stared dismally out a window, reeling in disappointment. That tiny book had been my only connection to the other side—and I’d lost it.
; “Do you know where it is?” Eli asked.
“It must be in the dorm room.”
“I’d go look for it, except the door is locked and I doubt the R.A. will let me in again,” Eli said. “I could ask Katelyn to help—”
“No! Don’t ask her!”
“What do you expect me to do?” he retorted. “Break into your room?”
“Would you?” I asked, half-seriously.
“Sure, I’ve always wanted to get arrested.”
“Well … I guess it’s not such a good idea.”
Still, I couldn’t just give up on the GEM, not when it held the answers to Sharayah’s crisis. I’d recently had some experience getting in and out of locked rooms and even a locked cemetery—but I hadn’t done it on my own. I’d had the help of friends.
This gave me an idea.
“Listen,” I told Eli in an urgent whisper. “If you’re serious about getting the book, call Dustin.”
“Why?”
I was reminding him about Dustin’s locksmith expertise and his amazing collection of keys when a blur of pink hair swooped around from the front seat and snatched the phone right out of my hand.
“No more talking, Rayah!” Mauve ordered.
“Hey!” I shouted, glaring at her. “Give that back!”
“Come on! Why are you talking to him when there are guys everywhere?”
“But I wasn’t finished.”
“Now you are.” Mauve snapped the phone shut. “Traffic may not be making moves, but I am. Here come the guys!”
Picking up guys in traffic was insane—not to mention embarrassing. I wanted to hide while Mauve and Sadie flaunted their assets. Mauve’s grin was jubilant, like finding guys was a contest and she’d won top prize. She stepped out of the car and exchanged introductions.
The big guy, Warren, towered over everyone with his linebacker shoulders and snow-blond hair. His black, short- sleeved shirt opened over a red T-shirt dripping with a fiery dragon design that matched the design on his red leather gloves. Gloves? I thought, surprised. That style went out with Michael Jackson.
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