Dead Girl Dancing (4 page)

“Not my fault, Sadie. Blame Rayah.” The pink-haired roommate pointed an accusing finger at me. “She wasn’t dressed, then she whined that she had to wait for some new guy and just when we were finally out of the room, she wanted to go back for her purse.”

“How could you forget your purse?” The other girl, Sadie, looked at me like I’d committed a felony. “I don’t care how wasted I am, I’d never ever leave my purse.”

“I have it now.” I gripped the leather bag tightly, reassured to have this small connection to my new identity even though all the cash inside made me nervous. But that was the least of my worries. I had to contact Eli or think of a way to stall long enough for him to show up.

“I still need a phone.” I turned to the pink-haired girl. “You said I could use yours.”

She opened the back seat door and gestured for me to get inside. “Let’s wait till we’re on our way.”

“But it’s urgent. He doesn’t know I’m—”

“Don’t care. Don’t want to hear it.” The roommate shook her head. “All you’ve been doing is delaying and making excuses. You’re acting like some guy is more important than your best friends and this trip we’ve been planning for weeks.”

“I never meant that.”

“Then forget the guy for a while.”

Sadie glanced curiously at us. Her sharp features reminded me of a bird: not an ordinary sparrow, but a bright and exotic macaw, shining with shades of sapphire, cinnamon and sunset red. “Aren’t you being harsh, Mauve?” she asked the pink-haired girl. “If Rayah wants to call some dude, what’s the harm? Don’t be such a bitch.”

“Why not? I am one and proud of it.”

“Yeah—I saw it on a bumper sticker.
Mauve: Campus Bitch
.”

Mauve snorted. “You think you’re so funny.”

“Someone around here has to be.” Sadie’s car keys jangled as she slipped into the driver’s seat. “So who’s the new guy, Rayah?”

“Oh, it’s not like that!” I felt my face reddening. “I mean, he’s more like … um … a brother. But it’s important I call him … can I borrow your phone?”

“Don’t give it to her until we’re on the freeway and there’s no turning back, Sadie,” Mauve interrupted with an accusing look at me as she opened the door to the passenger side of the front seat. “She’s been acting all kinds of weird. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s more than a hangover. Rayah, is there something you’re not telling us?”

“Of course not.”

“Then get into the car.”

“Fine. Whatever.” I scooted into the back seat.

Sadie glanced at Mauve and then me with pinched lips. “You know what we need?”

“A phone,” I said.

“A new roommate,” Mauve said.

“Wrong.” With a big smile, Sadie slid into the car and reached for a bag. “Mocha lattes. Since you were taking so long, I ran over to Starbucks and got our usual.”

I inhaled a rich scent of coffee as I took the hot cup and pulled off the lid. But when I took a sip, I nearly spit it out. Whoa! Sharayah’s “usual” was strong enough to sober up a career drunk. I rarely drank coffee, and when I did I dumped in loads of cream and sugar. Stealthily, I put the lid back on and squeezed the cup into a holder.

“That should cure Rayah’s hangover. She really tied one on with
James
.” Mauve spoke his name in a mocking way. “When I got to the room, she was wearing his shirt.”

“And the partying begins,” Sadie said cheerfully as she fastened her seat belt. “Between you two, my Layaway List is growing fast. How would you rate James? Was he any good? Details, please.”

“Um … well … ” I blushed, having no idea how to answer this.

“That bad, huh? Next time you can teach him a few of your tricks.” Sadie said this in a tone that implied I had plenty of experience with guys.

My cheeks flamed and I was glad to be sitting in the back where they couldn’t see my face. In my real body, I’d kissed a total of four guys and had never gone farther than second base. I was so
not
experienced—definitely not enough to score anyone or teach them “tricks.” And I was pretty sure Sadie’s “Layaway List” had nothing to do with shopping for clothes at the mall.

Mentally, I started my own list of People to Avoid:

#1. James.

#2. The Stalker.

Posing as Sharayah might be easier away from the dorm. It was hard enough to fool Mauve and Sadie, but if I stayed on campus I’d run into more people who knew more about me than I knew about myself—which would be all kinds of awkward.

Still, leaving meant not seeing Eli. But maybe I could meet up with him later—if I could ever call him. Mauve continued to be a bitch about using her phone and warned Sadie not to loan me hers, either.

I needed a plan to delay leaving until Eli showed up. Anxiety made me nauseous, and I gripped my stomach … and then smiled.

Being sick—perfect!

“Oooh,” I groaned with exaggerated drama.

Sadie whirled around to face me. “Rayah, you okay?”

“Ignore her and start the car,” Mauve snapped.

“I’m not feeling … ooh!” I covered my mouth and sagged forward.

“Drink your latte,” Mauve said. “That’ll sober you up.”

I shook my head, adding gagging sounds to my groans.

“Rayah, hold yourself together,” Sadie begged. “Don’t you dare hurl in my car!”

The weird thing was that once I thought about my stomach, I really did feel sick. Bile burned my throat. When I doubled over, moaning, I wasn’t faking it. My insides rebelled, roiling and pitching like a storm. Oh, no … no! I unfastened my seat belt, yanked open the door, and spewed on the pavement.

When I was able to lift my head I felt lighter and much, much better. I gulped in damp foggy air and avoided looking at the ground by glancing around the parking lot. A flash of light caught my attention in the opposite row of cars. An interior light glowed from a dark-colored compact car, spotlighting a girl in the driver’s seat with curly red hair and pale skin. Her gaze was fixed my way and she was staring directly—furiously—at me. Then the illumination faded, dimming slowly until the girl seemed to vanish in the fog.

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?”