Dead Girl in Love dg-3

by Linda Joy Singleton

  As I slipped into black jeans and a lacy black vest over a dark purple crepe shirt that went nicely with Alyce’s velvet ankle boots, I was thinking all about Eli. So it was like my thoughts had materialized into reality when I glanced out the window and saw him coming up the walkway.

  I heard the knock and suddenly I was nervous, thinking about kissing him, wondering if it would be okay even though I was in Alyce’s body. Would she mind? Would she know if I didn’t tell her?

  Another knock, and I hurried to the door.

  I grasped the knob, twisting.

  And there he was.

  “Eli!” I cried softly.

  “Not quite.” Smiling in a strange way, he shook his head. “Guess again.”

  There was husky lilt in his voice and a confident lift of his chin as he stared hard into my eyes.

  And I smelled the salty scent of the sea.

  20

  “Noooo!” I choked out, reaching for the door to slam it.

  But he grabbed my hand and, with a swift yank, pulled me outside with him, the door shutting behind us. And there I was, staring into the face that I’d been longing to see again.

  Only this wasn’t Eli.

  “Gabe!” I covered my mouth. “Ohmygod! What have you done to Eli?”

  “Nothing yet.” His smile made me ill. “It all depends on you.”

  “Get out of him right now!” Tears streamed down my face. Seeing Eli’s body possessed by such a despicable soul was more than I could take.

  “Why would I want to do that? This is a comfortable body — younger than what I usually choose, but it’ll do nicely … at least for a short while.”

  “Don’t you dare hurt him!”

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that. He’s rather an interesting fellow, with all those puzzles on his bedroom ceiling. He was very accommodating when I came for him. He was sleeping so soundly, he never even felt my hands on his skin.”

  “You’re … you’re a monster!”

  “No,” he said, his shoulders dropping. “I’m lonely. If there were another way to make you come with me, I would do it. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’re not hurting me! You’re hurting Eli!” I turned on him furiously. “Get away from him or I’ll report you to the DDT.”

  “You wouldn’t do that. I always know when the DDT is coming, and if that happens, I’d have to leave — and that could end tragically for this body.”

  I knotted my hands into fists, wanting to smash his face — only that dear face didn’t belong to Gabe. How ironic that I’d waited so long to be with Eli and now that he stood before me, it wasn’t even him. And there was only one way I could save him.

  Reality slammed into me, sucking away the air and all the fight in me. I pulled away from him, clinging tight to a porch rail. There was no one I could turn to — it was just me against a powerful Dark Lifer.

  “Please, leave Eli alone,” I whispered.

  “That depends on you.”

  “But I can’t … don’t make me!”

  “It’s your choice. You should act normally until you decide, though, or the consequences could be devastating.”

  “Normally?” I blinked. “Like going to school?”

  “Ah, school.” He touched his chin with his finger. “I learned about that while enjoying a fascinating breakfast of frosted pastries — Pop Tarts, the brother called them. The father was most thoughtful, too, offering me the use of a vehicle.”

  I could hardly bear to look into his face and hear him speak in Eli’s voice with that chilling detachment. “At least give me this day at school with my friends and no weirdness,” I said finally. “If you do that for me and promise not to harm Eli, then I’ll … I’ll do what you ask.”

  “I solemnly promise.” He held up two fingers like a Boy Scout.

  Dreams, hope, life faded from my voice. “You win.”

  “I always do.”

  * * *

  Rank odor of diesel from yellow buses, the shouts and laughter of kids, and the crush of hundreds of students heading down narrow halls to lockers and classrooms — today was like any other first day back to school after a week of spring vacation, for everyone except me. It was hard not to think about what I’d agreed to do … and how this first day back could also be my last day.

  One of my self-help books, It’s Not an Addiction, It’s a Goal, talked about the fine line between obsession and goals, how creative people — like writers and actors — could be obsessive in their ambitions. This book advised to take control of emotions by creating lists of “major” and “minor” goals, then crossing out everything you had no control over and focusing on what you had the ability to achieve on your own. Alyce was the creative type, not me, but I did do my fair share of obsession when it came to my goals. Becoming an entertainment agent had always been my major goal, followed by graduating with honors, getting accepted into a top college, sharing a dorm room with Alyce, and getting an internship at a top talent agency. On the minor goals list were things like falling in love, marriage, and kids.

  Only now I knew that falling in love was the most major goal of all. And as I walked through the halls, weaving through a blur of faces who meant little to me, I could only think of the one face I longed to see — with its sweet smile and clear, honest eyes shining at me.

  Oh, Eli, what have I done to you? I thought as I held onto Monkey Bag. This is all my fault, but I swear, on every self-help book I own, that I’ll fix this and bring you back … no matter what happens to me.

  When I heard my name called, I almost didn’t stop because the first thing on my “To Do” list was getting Alyce’s purple notebook. But then it registered that the name being called was “Amber” and not “Alyce.” I stopped abruptly and spun around.

  “Don’t call me that!” I warned Dustin, putting my finger to my lips and looking around anxiously. Still, it was so good to see him, to be with a friend who knew me, that I softened my criticism by reaching out to hold his hand. The human contact was warm and real — something I would miss.

  “Oops … I meant, Alyce.” He didn’t carry a backpack, only a small electronic lifeline resembling an iPhone, which he’d nicknamed “Headquarters.02.” It contained all his textbooks, homework notes, and the Internet, any of which could be activated with a simple voice command.

  “It’s okay. I don’t think anyone noticed.”

  “Still, I should have known better. Won’t happen again.”

  “You’re right … it … it may never happen again.” A tear slipped down my cheek and I wiped it away, but not fast enough.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” He furrowed his brow, studying me. “Is this about those stupid dates? I’m so sorry about that — Zachary and Kyle were jerks and I should have never put you through that.”

  “It’s not about … about them.” I couldn’t meet his gaze and glanced down at Alyce’s velvet black boots, noticing a smudge of grass on the right toe but not bothering to wipe it away.

  “Has something else happened?”

  Lying would be the easiest hard thing to do.

  “Yes,” I admitted, nodding. “But it’s my problem and no one else can solve it.”

  “No one?” He snorted. “Since when did you become Goddess and rule the world? Come off it, Amber. Tell me what’s wrong or I’ll start singing to you at the top of my lungs so everyone will stare at us like we’re crazy.”

  And he would have. He’d done it once … no, twice … before. He didn’t give a crap what anyone thought of him. I was going to miss him so much.

  Dustin was opening his mouth, ready to belt out a Broadway tune or something equally humiliating. So I reached out and put my hand over his mouth. Then I led him down the hall to Alyce’s locker, which was in a remote corner away from the rush and bustle of other students.

  “It’s Eli — he’s in terrible trouble because of me … ” My voice caught and, to my own surprise, I told Dustin the truth. Well, the least humiliating parts. I admitte
d to meeting with Gabe, believing that he wanted to change but turning him down when he asked me to be his “forever” companion. But I didn’t mention “fusing” or the way Gabe made me feel when we lifted out of our bodies.

  “So Eli is now this Dark Lifer dude Gabe?” Dustin asked with wide, dark eyes.

  “Yeah,” I answered, shivering.

  “And where is Eli?”

  “I–I don’t know.” Worry sliced like a knife through my heart.

  “He’s not … ” Dustin’s breath caught.

  “No … not yet. He’s just lost, somewhere in soul limbo, waiting to come back to his body. But he might not be able to … not if Gabe hurts him, and he will if I don’t go with him willingly.”

  “But you can’t go with him! That’s suicide — literally!”

  “What choice do I have? He threatened to kill Eli.” I bit my trembling lip, shoving away my fears so I could do the right thing. “I won’t let that happen.”

  “You mean … you’d just give up and die?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say and I’ve known you for a long time. I repeat — you do not rule the world. Use that smart head of yours and get some help from someone with the right contacts.”

  “Who?”

  “Your grandmother.” His expression brightened and he pointed beyond me. “And here she comes now.”

  Grabbing his arm, I leaned close to hiss in his ear, “Don’t you tell her anything!”

  “But she can help you.”

  “No, she’ll switch me back before I finish my mission and I won’t be able to help Alyce. Then Gabe will get revenge by killing Eli!”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “Trust me on this,” I said, wincing at my own words. “He will.”

  “There you are!” Grammy said, coming over with relief on her face. Well, my face, although she’d done something with blue eye shadow and pink lipstick that made me cringe. My hair, usually a mop of curls, hung straight, which actually looked cool. But the clothes Grammy chose for me were like something a four-year-old would wear to a birthday party.

  I was hurting too much inside to care, though, and had to struggle just to speak in a normal voice. “Hi … Amber,” I said carefully. “What are you doing here?”

  “Following my Host Body’s schedule — no matter how painful. What’s with the two-ton backpack?” She groaned as she shifted the weight of my canvas backpack on her shoulders. “There are like a dozen books in here. You’ll be stooped over like a senior citizen before you’re thirty. Aren’t you worried about having back problems?”

  “No — I have worse problems. Like my grandmother going to school in my body. Why didn’t you fake being sick and stay home?”

  “And miss experiencing high school again? This is like a second chance. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I wasn’t a good student like you. I was too busy flirting with cute guys, cutting classes to sneak smokes, and staying out late drag racing. I was the oldest of seven kids so my parents didn’t catch what was going on until I was suspended.”

  “Suspended?” My hand flew to my mouth. “Why?”

  “For getting caught in the teacher’s lounge — with a cute teaching assistant. Not one of my proudest moments. I’m much wiser now and—” She stopped abruptly, tilting her head to look closely at me. “But why are your eyes so red? Amb … Alyce, have you been crying?”

  “I … I … um … ” Speechless, I shot Dustin a “Help me!” glance.

  “Allergies.” Dustin patted my arm sympathetically. “She’s a weepy, snotty mess.”

  I sniffled dramatically. “Alyce is allergic to pollen, trees, and grass.”

  “And she’s too thin,” Grammy added with a disapproving head shake. “Make sure you eat healthy so she’ll be in better shape when she returns.”

  “Is the switch still on for tonight?” I asked uneasily.

  “Unless the Dark Lifer is found before midnight. You’ve done a good job, honey, but you can’t expect to solve everything. Being a Temp Lifer isn’t about solving problems, it’s about standing in so your Host—”

  “—Soul can solve their own problems,” I finished.

  Only I didn’t believe it and ached with guilt, knowing I was letting Alyce down. So that Grammy couldn’t read my expression, I turned to Alyce’s locker and spun the combination I knew by heart: 13-46-03. It was easy for me to remember number combinations, but Alyce (not math-gifted) had to use memory tricks. “Thirteen is my favorite number since most people think it’s unlucky,” she’d told me. “Mom will be 46 when I’m 20 and I have three freckles on my right thumb.”

  I looked down at her thumb, my eyes filling and blurring the tiny freckles. But everything else was crystal clear to me. I would do what whatever it took to protect the people I loved.

  With new determination, I told Grammy there was one last thing I had to do for Alyce. Then I searched the locker, checking folders, books, and papers until I saw purple.

  I’d found Alyce’s top secret, private purple notebook.

  * * *

  Pages full of drawings and Alyce’s handwriting. I flipped through them, while Grammy and Dustin watched me curiously. There was too much to explain, so I gave Dustin a look that translated to “I need some time alone.” He gave me a “gotcha” nod, then offered to take Grammy to my first class since I was headed the other direction to Alyce’s homeroom. I could tell Grammy was suspicious, but she also seemed a little nervous (first-day-of-school jitters?) and left with Dustin.

  The warning bell rang, so I skimmed faster, searching for the words “grave,” “Green Briar,” or “Sam.” And in the middle of the notebook, I found them all — along with a strange drawing of a large, steep staircase leading up to a beautiful angel. Something about the drawing tickled my memory, as if I’d seen this angel before, but that wasn’t likely since Alyce didn’t share her private notebook, even with me.

  I understood why, too, as I read her heartfelt agony over her mother’s depression; Mrs. Perfetti would cry for days and wouldn’t get out of bed.

  Mom makes me crazy and scared. I don’t know what to do to help her. She won’t see a doctor and she wouldn’t even eat if I didn’t cook for her. She keeps crying about needing to find a lost grave. Alyce’s tiny, slanted letters combined calligraphy and printing. She’d joked that it was her signature style, one that would be easily recognizable in the artistic world someday.

  But the Alyce writing here was more concerned for her mother than any dreams of a career. I wish I could tell someone … especially Amber. Only she’d feel sorry for me, which I’d hate … and her life is so perfect anyway that she wouldn’t understand. I wish we could trade mothers … I wish I wasn’t me …

  On the next page her letters were calmer, looping with elegant swirls as she listed the same cemeteries I’d found on the list in her backpack. Next to the one that said Green Briar, she’d written, “Mom freaked out last night, screaming for her baby. It was scary, but I learned more and convinced Mom to draw a picture of where Sam was “sleeping.” Mom drew a tall iron fence and an angel with giant wings and a marble tombstone engraved with a green bush symbol above the name Angelica. Not far away lies baby Sam, the only marking a wooden plaque inscribed SAM. The bush logo could mean the headstone came from Green Briar.”

  That was on the last page … and I knew what had happened next. Alyce had stolen the Green Briar file, but I’d jumped into her body with no clue how to use it. Now I did.

  Digging into Monkey Bag, I pulled out the Green Briar file and searched for the name “Angelica.” And there is was, near the bottom of the page. Angelica Hightower, who died in the 1960s at the age of ninety-eight. A woman named Jane Hightower had purchased the headstone for the grand sum of $325 (which was a lot back then from what Grammy used to tell me). But there was no mention of where Angelica had been buried.

  I regretted sending Dustin away, now that I could really use his online
link via Headquarters.02. I’d try to catch him between classes.

  Then I hurried off to my class, thinking how ironic it was that on what could be my last day of school ever, I was in Alyce’s body. When I walked down the halls, I had to remind myself to keep my head low and not act too friendly. Alyce ignored people while I enjoyed smiling and waving, even to kids who couldn’t remember my name.

  So I was startled when I heard someone shout out, “Alyce!”

  Turning, I saw a vision of silky black hair, cinnamon skin, and a beautiful smile. “Jessica Bradley?” I murmured, shaking my head.

  “Hey, Alyce.” She sounded rushed. “Could you give Amber a message?”

  “Oh … sure.”

  “Great!” Jessica always sounded like a cheerleader even though she was more involved in student government and community service. “Tell her that there’s a meeting of the Basket Club at lunch today.”

  “Don’t you mean the Halsey Hospitality Club?” I said sarcastically.

  “Oh, sure. Whatever.”

  “And Amber’s the president, so shouldn’t she be the one arranging meetings?”

  “She’s been through so much lately, I’m happy to help her out.” Jessica beamed her beauteous smile. “We have so many new members since her accident, and I have this wonderful idea to announce. I know Amber will love it! So FYI her about the meeting, and you should come, too.”

  Before I could say something sarcastic about Alyce being Vice President of HHC and the one who made all the gift baskets, the final bell rang and Jessica dashed off. I was running late, too, and I hated to be tardy. It was kind of funny, really, how although my life might soon be over, I was afraid of being late to class.

  I turned a corner and spotted Alyce’s homeroom up ahead. Breaking into a run, I arrived at the door and bent over to catch my breath. But when I straightened and reached for the knob, someone else grabbed it first.

  “Allow me to open your door,” said a familiar voice, with eloquent politeness.

  And I turned to face Eli.