Dead Girl Walking (14 page)

The next morning, I shut out any fear of pain and all the things that could wrong. If my plan went right, that was even scarier. I pretended nothing was real, my movements robot-like as I slipped into the red tankini and focused on the one thing I could control. I longed to shout at Mr. Montgomery, “You don’t own me!” Then I’d raised my hand, tuck in four fingers, and flip him off to my death.

With a towel tied around my waist, my hips moved in a natural sway. Very unnatural to me. Nothing really seemed real, anyway, which in an odd way made things easier. Like I was an actress playing a role. Starring Amber Borden as Leah Montgomery.

Angie arrived promptly at five minutes to nine. She told me to follow her down the hall, her attitude surly as ever. She didn’t even talk to me. That was fine, since casual chitchat was not in my plans. Only moving forward and doing what I had to. Wordlessly, I followed Angie downstairs and through a back door that opened into an enclosed yard—with a swimming pool as its centerpiece.

“One hundred laps,” Angie ordered.

I nodded.

“Don’t cheat and quit early.”

I nodded.

“Stay in the pool until you finish your laps.”

“I’ll stay,” I replied obediently, shutting off my mind so I wouldn’t think too far ahead. One step at a time, that’s all I had to take.

Draping my towel on a wicker chair, I scanned the pool. Sparkling clear blue water with a strong odor of chlorine. Dustin loved to swim … no, don’t think of Dustin or anything connected to my real life. Just get through this with no mistakes. Should I jump into the deep water, or wade in from the shallow end?

While I was deciding, I heard the squeak of a door and glanced over to see Angie leaving. But that would ruin everything! Angie didn’t know it, but she had a key role in my plan. Despite her thoroughly disagreeable personality, she wouldn’t let the boss’ daughter drown. She’d jump in to save me—although I hoped it would be Leah she’d pulled out of the pool.

“Where are you going?” I called out to Angie.

She glanced over, annoyed. “None of your business.”

“But aren’t you supposed to watch me?”

“I got better things to do.”

“I might try to escape.”

“As if anyone could do that!” She made a humph sound. “You’d need wings to get over that twelve-foot wall. Then you’d have to get past your daddy’s trained dogs.”

“I love dogs.”

“Since when? Those dogs are so mean they don’t even like themselves. Vicious beasts, but they do their job. Now I have my own job, and it doesn’t include wasting time with you. Get busy with those laps.”

“You can’t force me to swim.”

“Maybe I can’t but your daddy can, and he’s got security cams all over this place.” She pointed up to a black camera fixed high over a doorway, its lens aimed at the pool like a weapon. “Now get busy exercising. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“An hour! But that’s too long.”

“Not unless you’re a speed swimmer,” she said, misunderstanding. Then she went inside, shutting the door behind her. Locking it, too, I was sure.

Frustrated, I sank in the lounge chair. I was still operating on “numb” and knew that if I stopped to think, the odds were high I’d chicken out.

Focus on the plan, I ordered myself.

I wasn’t a strong swimmer, but I could doggie paddle and float on my back. I’d already realized that a flaw in my plan was my inability to stay underwater until I started to black out. Instinct to survive would kick in, and I might not be able to resist coming up for air. Unless I weighed myself down.

The swimming pool was enclosed by a cement-block wall circling around perfectly pruned shade trees and artificial grass that looked real enough to fool hungry cows. Rushing water echoed in a lyrical rhythm from a faux waterfall that cascaded onto rocks. Hmmm … rocks.

Unfortunately, most of the rocks were too heavy, and I couldn’t pick them up. My arms may have looked muscular, but they were pathetic at lifting. I stepped over the larger rocks and searched for smaller ones. As I bent over to pick up a fist-sized rock, I had the odd sense of being watched. The shade trees rustled slightly from the spring breeze, and a few birds swooped through the branches. I didn’t see anyone, but did spot another security camera fixed over the pool house. Normally I’d hate the idea of cameras spying on me, but now I was glad to have them. They were extra insurance for a rescue.

Slipping into a mindless numb zone, I sorted through the rocks until I found five that were heavy, yet also slim enough to fit into my tankini. I squeezed in two up top and three below. My suit sagged, lopsided, and I balanced the rocks so my tankini bottom didn’t fall off. I barely felt the rocks up top under Leah’s surgically enhanced boobs.

A clock affixed on the pool-house wall pointed out the time. I calculated how long it would take to jump into the water, lose consciousness, see the light, chat with Grandma, pet Cola if he was around, then presto-chango, body switcheroo. Factoring an estimate return for Angie, I concluded that if I entered the water in exactly forty-seven minutes, Leah’s body had a 74 percent chance of survival. Not great odds, but better than my chances of returning to my body once it was pronounced dead.

This is not suicide, I reminded myself. It’s survival.

One minute passed. Then three minutes. Only another forty-four to go—too much time to think, to stress, to dissect every little detail. Did the rocks weigh enough? What if I floated to the top? I had to make sure I was heavy enough to stay on the pool bottom until I saw the light.

That’s when I noticed a discarded brick leaning against a brick flower planter on the far side of the pool. Five rocks
and
a brick would add plenty of weight. Walking with rocks scraping my skin beneath my swimming suit was uncomfortable. So I moved slowly, with my arms stretched out for balance, as I maneuvered around wicker patio furniture. A lounge chair blocked the way, and as I bent down to push it aside, something shifted in my swim top. A rock popped out and plopped down.

I yelped as the rock smashed onto my foot.

Crying in pain, I jumped and grabbed my sore foot. The hopping jarred the other rock out of my top. I grabbed for it, but couldn’t get a grip. The rock slipped through my fingers toward my other foot. Instinctively I lunged backwards, my arms flailing as I teetered on the edge of the pool. And then I fell …

Something hard smacked my head.

I never heard the splash.

When I opened my eyes, a cloudy face hovered over me.

“Grammy?” A sharp pain throbbed in my head.

I didn’t remember hurting so much and feeling so cold last time I visited Grammy Greta. And it was so dark. Had I landed in the wrong place? I’d heard that people who commit suicide never made it to heaven and were trapped in an eternal black hole of nothingness. Had I taken a horribly wrong turn and been sucked into the darkness?

“You’re okay.” The voice speaking was male—definitely
not
Grammy.

Blinking, I watched as the face swam over me. Brown hair curled in a familiar way, and there were hazel eyes. Not a devil or angel. And as my vision cleared I realized I wasn’t in the dark pits of hell—just under a shady tree. My bathing suit was soaking wet and I had a horrible headache, but like the guy said, I was okay.

Unfortunately, I was also still Leah.

When I tried to sit up, pain exploded in my head and everything went fuzzy. “Ooh … my head … ouch … hurts.”

“It should. You got smacked in the head with a rock and nearly drowned.”

His voice … so familiar … I had a feeling I knew and liked him. Yet something in his tone suggested he wasn’t too crazy about me.

Weakly, I rubbed my eyes. When I opened them again I gasped. No way! Impossible! How could he be here? It just didn’t make any sense. Maybe I wasn’t so okay after all …

I was sure I was hallucinating, until I saw a soggy chocolate bar poking up from his wet shirt pocket. That’s when I knew it was real—that he was real.

“Ohmygod!” I gasped. “Eli?”

“Shhsh!” He pushed back his dripping hair and glanced around uneasily. “Keep your voice down.”

“You? Here? I can’t believe it!”

“Don’t throw anything.” He crossed his hands over his chest protectively. “I’m only the messenger.”

“You’re a miracle!” With an excited squeal, I jumped up and wrapped arms around him. His clothes were dripping wet, but then so were mine.

“‘Thanks’ is enough. More than I’d expect from you.”

“Thank you! Thank you for being here. I’m so glad to see you!”

“Glad, like getting poison oak or food poisoning.” He pried off my hands. “Don’t pretend with me.”

“Who’s pretending? Eli, you have no idea what I’ve been through and what I almost did because there was no one to help me. But now you’re here. And you jumped in the pool to pull me out like a real hero!”

“I’ll probably regret it. What were you thinking, anyway?” He sounded angry, not at all like the shy and sweet Eli I met at Jessica’s party. “Putting rocks in your suit was beyond dumb. You almost drowned!”

“I tried, but I screwed that up. Ooh … my head.”

“It’s just a bump. You’re not bleeding.”

“It still hurts.” I reached up and winced as my fingers touched the bump and exploded into pain. Lights flashed, circling around and around. I swayed, my legs buckling.

“Steady there.” Quickly, Eli reached out and wrapped his arm around my waist. He eased me into a wicker chair. “Sit down.”

“Thanks,” I murmured.

“You’re thanking me? You’re obviously not yourself.”

“You can tell? That’s amazing!” I felt overwhelming relief. Finally, someone was on my side. “You have no idea how good it is to see a friendly face. Everyone here hates me or hates her—it’s hard to keep it all straight. I just want to go home. No one else knows, and I’ve been so scared. They keep me locked in my room most of the time and my body is going to die tomorrow if I can’t get out of here.”

Instead of showing sympathy, he stepped back with a wary look. “Uh … maybe you should take a pill.”

“No more pills or doctors or hospitals! I’ve been out of it for too long. Just get me away from here and I’ll explain everything.”

“You don’t owe me any explanation. Save it for Chad.”

“Chad?” I repeated, confused. “You know him?”

“How hard did you hit your head? Of course I know Chad—he’s the reason I’m here. And for the record, I didn’t want to, but you know how persuasive my brother can be. He conned me into playing messenger.” Eli scowled as he reached into his pocket and handed me a damp red envelope. “Here’s your love letter.”

I felt my face go hot, wondering if he had guessed I liked him. But wait … the letter wasn’t from Eli. “Your
brother?
Chad is your brother!”

“Not exactly a news flash.” He wrung out a corner of his damp shirt and glanced down mournfully at his soggy chocolate bar. “Why do I get myself in these situations? Next time Chad asks for a favor, the answer is never again.”

I still couldn’t believe that Chad and Eli were brothers, although now that I thought about it, I’d welcomed them both to school a few years ago with a “Hello Halsey” basket. Chad may be a good kisser, but it was Eli who had made my mouth water when we bonded over oh-so-sweet chocolate.

Just my luck. I finally find a nice guy who really gets me, on the day that I’m run over by a mail truck.

I’d hoped to see Eli again, to find out why he’d left so abruptly and if there was potential for anything real between us. Now here he was … only he clearly did
not
want to be with me. The “mmm” factor was missing. And I realized why when I glanced down at the red envelope. Leah’s name. My first love letter—and it was for the wrong girl, from the wrong guy. I bit my lip, struggling not to cry.

Eli was here by coincidence. Chad’s brother! And Chad was Leah’s boyfriend. Unfortunately, the way Eli was looking at me was seriously hostile.

“It’s been … uh … wet.” He wrung out a corner of his shirt so pool water dribbled onto the cement. “I only came to give you the letter. I’m out of here.”

“NO! Don’t go!” I tossed aside Chad’s envelope and grabbed Eli’s arm.

“What’s your problem?” He gave me an “are you nuts” look.

“You wouldn’t believe me. Just take me with you. Don’t leave me in this prison!”

“A prison?” He snorted. “Relaxing by a heated pool surrounded by wealth and luxury? Yeah … poor you. I can really sympathize.”

“You don’t understand!”

“No argument there. How hard did you hit your head, anyway?”

“My head’s okay, but I’m not. I have to get out of here before it’s too late. They’ll force me to have Botox injections. And exercise! It’s barbaric!”

“Excuse me for not giving a shit.”

“How did you get in here, anyway?” I kept a tight grip on his arm so he couldn’t bolt. “It would take wings to get over that fence.”

“Or a ladder,” he said with a shrug. “Now if you—”

“What about the dogs?”

“Not a problem if you come prepared.” He nonchalantly pulled a small packet labeled “Canine Candy” from his pocket. “Besides, they’re big puppies and not really vicious.”

He moved to go, shaking off my arm. But I recovered quickly and grabbed hold of his wet shirt. “Please don’t go. Help me get away.”

“Leah, you are the last person to need my help. I can’t believe you’re even talking to me, instead of telling me to get lost and calling me stuff like ‘dork’ and ‘geek.’”

“I’ve changed. I’m a different person.” I moved directly in front of him and stared into his eyes. “Eli, look at me.”

“Why?”

“Really look at me—deep into my eyes. I’m not who you think I am.”

“Oh, really?” he said sarcastically. “So, who are you?”

“Amber Borden.”

“Shut up!” He jumped back angrily.

“It’s true!”

“You’re—you’re sick!” he sputtered.

“No, I’m not. I’m scared and I just want to go home. I’m Amber.”

“Don’t you ever say her name again!” He glared then abruptly turned to leave. “You think you’re all that, but you’re just a big fake. Amber is real.”

“But I’m the real Amber!’ I cried, flinging myself forward to block him. “Would Leah even talk to you? Would she care what you thought? Can’t you see that this body isn’t really me?”

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m not! Honest!” I was close to tears. “Let me explain …
Please!”

“I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing, but save it for Chad.”

“I don’t want Chad. I want you.”

“Hitting your head must have scrambled your brain.”

“My head is okay, but my real body is in danger. I only look like Leah. Inside, I’m Amber.”

“You have no right to talk about her—you didn’t even know her.” His face reddened. “But I was starting to and … well … just show some respect.”

“You
are
talking to her. A squared plus B squared equals C squared. Would Leah know that?”

“No, but—”

“See, that proves I’m not Leah.”

“Anyone can spout off math. Even you.”

“I’m not the
me
you think I am.” I pushed back long blonde hair and shivered as a cool wind brushed my skin. “We first met when I gave you and Chad a ‘Hello Halsey’ gift basket. I didn’t get to know you then, not until Saturday at Jessica’s party when you recognized me. Remember the dessert table and how you calculated how many candies were there?”

His eyes narrowed. “How did you know about that?”

“I was there!”

“No, you weren’t. Jessica asked me where you were and I didn’t know. No one knew you were sick until later.”

“That was Leah—not me. I’m Amber. Really, I am.”

“Stop talking crazy!”

“When we talked at Jessica’s party, I was wearing my friend Dustin’s baggy shirt.” Before he could call me crazy again, I started talking fast, explaining about the car accident and seeing my grandmother but making a wrong turn at the Milky Way and suddenly becoming Leah.

“I know it sounds insane. Finding myself in this body—not me anymore—has been a horrible nightmare.” I glanced down at my perky breasts, slim waist, and long, golden-tanned legs. “Please believe me.”

“This is beyond weird,” he murmured, but his tone was different now, almost compassionate. Sympathy for the crazy girl, I guessed.

“It’s all true. My explanation is the only way it adds up.”

“Oh?” he asked skeptically.

“Think back to Amber’s accident and Leah’s illness. Both happened the same day, but Leah was already in the hospital before you met me … I mean, Amber. Amber went directly home from the party where I—she—was hit by the mail truck. There’s no way Amber could have told Leah—who was already in the hospital—about our candy sampling and conversation. The only one who knew that is Amber. Me.”

“Interesting timeline,” he admitted. “Too bizarre for belief and I should get the hell away from you.”

“So why aren’t you running?”

He squeezed more water from his shirt. “On the night my grandfather died, I dreamed he visited me. The next morning I found a penny on my desk dating 1929—the year Grandpa was born. Let me think for a minute.”

“Hurry.” I glanced at the house. “Angie will be back soon.”

He nodded, but his gaze was distant as if calculating a complex equation. Finally he nodded, was quiet for a moment as if deep in thought, then turned to me with a solemn look. “Answer one question. Something that only Amber would know.”

“Anything.”