Dead Girl Dancing (6 page)

How do you make small talk with a creepy guy you suspect is a Dark Lifer?

Well, it wasn’t easy. At least he was in the front with Sadie, not back with me. Still, I lied about my seat belt being stuck and slipped over into the next seat—as far as you could get from someone inside a moving car.

All the while I was thinking of how I wanted to get revenge on Mauve. Didn’t she care about anyone other than herself? Even if Warren wasn’t a Dark Lifer, being stuck traveling with a random guy was all kinds of uncomfortable. How could Mauve do this to her friends?

“Mauve is like the best friend ever!” Sadie exclaimed, her attention focused on driving and Warren. I glimpsed her dopey lovesick expression when she glanced up at the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, sweet trade. Two girls to one guy,” Warren said. From the back seat, I couldn’t see his face but knew he was grinning from his tone.

“I’m just glad to have more time with you,” Sadie practically purred. “On a long drive, we can really get to know each other.”

“And Party Girl, too.” Warren pointed toward me.

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped.

“Ignore the grouch in the back seat. Rayah has been in a bad mood all morning,” Sadie said as if joking, but there was no joking in the glare she shot me through the rearview mirror. “Warren, I think it’s amazing you started your own website business. I want to hear all about it.”

I tuned out while Sadie ooh and awed over everything Warren told her. A few times Warren tried to bring me into the conversation, but Sadie quickly shifted the topic back to her. It was obvious she wanted all of Warren’s attention on her; zero on me.

Did she really think the biggest goal in my immediate life was to steal him? Ha! So far from the truth. I wanted to warn her that Warren might be evil and dead—but she’d never believe me.

I wasn’t sure what I believed myself. I could only see the back of his head and one of his gloves, and had no way of telling if he was a dead guy lurking in a stolen body. He acted ordinary enough—except he seemed unusually interested in me. Was he merely curious or waiting for a chance to suck my energy?

“Sadie, can I borrow your cell phone?” I asked, deciding I had to do something or I’d explode from nerves.

“What for?” she asked.

“To call my boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend? Oh, sure!” Her tone was all friendly again. “I didn’t realize you were so serious with James.”

“Uh … ” I gnawed my lower lip, thinking fast. “It surprised me, too.”

“Well, I’m thrilled for you. It must be hard going off for a week without him.”

“Miserable.”

“I can’t believe you finally settled on one guy.” She flashed me a huge smile. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and find someone special, too.”

“You never know,” Warren told Sadie.

“It’s a goal,” Sadie said with a significant look at him. “Anyway, Rayah, you can tell James that there’s always room for one more at the condo if he wants to join us.”

“Sure,” I lied.

Sadie reached for her phone, which was propped in a cup holder. But one glance at the phone and she grimaced. “Oh, crap.”

“What?” I asked.

“No signal. Too many hills, I guess.” She returned the phone to its holder. “You can try later.”

How much later? I thought dismally as I glanced out the window. I could see only brown and green hills with occasional oaks or wild scrubs; it was as if we were driving into an infinity of nowhere. A few homes flashed by, but mostly it was empty hills and gravity-defying cows grazing vertically on steep inclines. Traffic continued on sluggishly, slowing then speeding up. We kept to the left, moving swiftly in the fast lane, passing the slow lane where trucks chugged with exhausted effort like out-of-shape joggers. It seemed like we were driving on endless curving ribbons of concrete. Where were the McDonald’s, Taco Bells and gas stations?

I shifted uncomfortably, hoping we’d stop soon so I could use a restroom.

When I mentioned this to Sadie, she held up her empty Starbucks cup plus the Diet Pepsi she’d finished. “Me, too,” she said with a pinched expression. “These hills are going on forever.”

“There’s an exit with fast food and gas stations about thirty miles ahead,” Warren said. “A pit stop sounds great. It’s cramped sitting for a long time.” He lifted his arms for a stretch, his gloved fingers reaching out toward me as if by accident. The fiery dragon design seemed to flame like a predator seeking a victim—and I jerked away.

Warren and Sadie kept talking as if nothing unusual had happened, but my stomach rocked with revulsion. Having my energy sucked by a Dark Lifer was personal, and emotionally invasive. But I wasn’t positive about Warren, so what could I do? The GEM’s advice for dealing with Dark Lifers was to retreat and report.

Unfortunately, in a moving car without the GEM, I couldn’t do either.

Fortunately, Sadie kept Warren’s focus away from me as she flirted on cruise control. She chattered about favorite foods, music and malls. I’d never been so grateful to be shut out of a conversation. While they talked, I stared out the window, aching to be anywhere else and longing for my real life. What were Mom, Dad, Alyce and Dustin doing right now? Were they back at the hospital, still waiting for me to wake up from the coma? I assumed Sharayah was sleeping in my body, but what if she wasn’t? I’d almost been disconnected from life support once already this past week.

How long could I stay away without risking harm to my real body?

It had to be miserable for my family—waiting in a hospital room for me to wake up, unaware I was miles away living someone else’s life. I wished I could get a message to them—but even if the GEM rules allowed it, why upset them with the truth? Besides, Grammy had put a lot of trust in me and I didn’t want to let her down. If I worked quickly, it would only take a few days to complete my assignment. Then I’d return to myself.

Conversation from the front seat interrupted my thoughts when I realized that Sadie was speaking to me. “ … you agree it’s nothing like expected?” she asked.

“Um … expect what?” I asked.

“Didn’t you hear anything I said?” Sadie glanced back at me with exaggerated drama. “I was telling Warren how we’ve been planning this trip for weeks and thought we’d already be on the beach by now. It’s crazy how nothing is going as planned.”

“You can say that again.” I sighed, thinking of my friends and family.

“The thing is,” Sadie added, “sometimes I get feelings about things that are going to happen, and my intuition says this week is only going to get crazier.”

I groaned, hoping her intuition was wrong.

“I’m a fan of all things wild and crazy,” Warren said. “I’ve heard it gets really insane on the beach—lots of music, contests and partying.”

“Mauve wants me to enter a wet T-shirt contest,” Sadie said. “What do you think?”

“You should.” Warren twisted toward the back seat, his gaze narrowing at me. “And so should you.”

“No way,” I said. “Too embarrassing.”

“Rayah, you’re such a kidder,” Sadie said, giggling. “You’re the one who showed Mauve the photos of last year’s wet T-shirt contest you found online. And you said you’d be first in line to enter.”

“Oh, well … I’ve changed my mind about entering.” I paused. “Standing on a stage and being drenched with water doesn’t sound very fun.”

“It’s plenty of fun for the guys watching from the audience,” Warren retorted.

“You would say that,” I replied, frowning.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he accused, his muscular shoulders straining at the seat belt as he twisted around toward me. “You know, I’m getting tired of your attitude. I’ve been really friendly to you, so why are you so cold?”

“He’s right, Rayah,” Sadie agreed. “You’ve been rude to him.”

“Did I do something to piss you off?” Warren asked.

“Of course not.” I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat belt. “I’m just not feeling social after a rough night.”

“I warned her not to stay out so late,” Sadie added with a reproachful glance back at me. “Don’t take it personal, Warren. She’s cool with your being here. Right, Rayah?”

What else could I do but nod?

Time to change tactics, I decided. If Warren wanted to get aggressive, I could, too—but in a more subtle way. Remembering advice from a book on dealing with awkward social situations called
Disarming Your Enemy With a Smile,
I decided to turn this conversation into a fact-finding opportunity.

I summoned my most disarming smile. “If I’ve been rude—sorry.”

“No problem,” Warren said.

“Sadie’s right, I’ve been a grouch. I’m a little hung-over still, but that’s no reason to take my bad mood out on you.”

“I’ve been hung-over, too, and it bites,” Warren replied. “Lucky for you, I give great neck rubs. When we stop, I’ll massage away your pain.”

And try to suck away my energy
, I thought suspiciously
.

Trying to be polite, just in case he wasn’t an energy vampire, I pasted on a smile. “Sure, that sounds cool.” Then, with stealth purpose, I added, “While you’re massaging, I’d like to try on your gloves. The dragon design is cool and the leather looks so soft.”

“Forget it. No one wears them but me.”

“You can’t give a massage with gloves,” I argued.

“Yeah, I can. It’s better that way.”

“I’d love a massage,” Sadie said, her hand on the steering wheel as she turned toward Warren.

“Sure, babe.”

“But Rayah’s got a point about the gloves. I’d rather feel your strong hands on my shoulders.”

“It’s either with gloves or not at all. I don’t take them off in public; they’re my personal icon.” His tone was friendly but when he waved his hands my direction, I felt a chill that made me shiver despite the stuffy warmness inside the car.

Sadie took Warren’s words as a challenge and spent the next few miles trying to bribe him to take off his gloves. No matter what Sadie offered, Warren refused. Definitely suspicious.

This would be a great time for another Temp Lifer to pop in. I sent a silent message to Grammy Greta, clasping my fingers together as if praying. And to my surprise, I felt something—a warm sense of calm and a light caress on my shoulder. Then it was gone. Had I imagined it? Or had Grammy given me a pat on the back to encourage me to keep trying?

Only I don’t know what to try, I thought, staring down at my hands.

Not my hands. Those pale bony fingers were loaners; without freckles and stubby fingernails. There was a whitish tan line around the ring finger on the left hand that I hadn’t noticed before. Sharayah must have worn a ring for months to develop a tan line. I wondered why she stopped wearing it. Did it have anything to do with the mysterious boyfriend Gabe?

As I puzzled over this, a noisy breeze blew in from Sadie’s open window, swirling my hair in my face. I inhaled a blend of smog and salty air that made me think of the ocean. We were still far from the Pacific, but I’d be able to see it soon. I loved, loved,
loved
the ocean. I hadn’t been to the ocean in a long time, not since my family doubled in size and we were shackled with adorable but demanding triplets. It would be so wonderful to kick off my shoes, run on the warmed sand, and splash in frothy blue-gray waves. I’d have a kick-ass spring break wading in the surf and sunning on the beach. Except, I suddenly remembered, Mauve said Sharayah had an ocean phobia, even had bad dreams about the ocean. How could anyone be afraid of something so beautiful? And how could I pretend to be afraid of something I loved so much?