Better You Than Me
Page 9
And my mother never hugs.
She’s too worried it’ll wrinkle her clothes. And mine.
I stand very stiff and still while this lady—this stranger—embraces me, wondering what bad dream I’m stuck in and when I’m going to wake up.
“Skylar!” she says, pulling back and looking me up and down as though she’s checking a car for scratches after an accident. “I was so worried! What were you thinking?”
Skylar?
Garrett comes up behind me and releases me from the zip ties. Meanwhile, the strange woman continues to study me. She reaches out and lovingly touches a strand of my hair. I’m about to pull away when I notice something out of the corner of my eye.
That’s weird.
My hair is not black.
It’s dark blond.
And it’s not thick and wavy.
It’s stick-straight and limp. Like overcooked spaghetti.
“Skylar,” the woman repeats, a sudden sharpness to her voice. “I asked you a question. Your principal called and told me you weren’t in class. I ran home from work and you weren’t in the apartment. I was about to call the police until the studio called, saying you’d jumped off the tram during a tour and snuck into a soundstage?”
Principal? Class? Apartment? Those are not words that in any way relate to my life.
“Uh…” I hesitate, unsure of what to say. I glance desperately down the hallway, searching for some type of escape from this woman’s pinning gaze. I spot the restrooms behind me and hastily announce, “I have to go to the bathroom!” Then I dart through the door and stand in front of the sinks with my eyes closed.
I can’t look.
I already know I’m not going to like what I see.
“This isn’t happening,” I whisper. “You’re dreaming, Ruby. WAKE UP!”
My eyes pop open and I come face to face with the reflection in the mirror.
Then I let out a scream that echoes across the entire city of Burbank.
I wake to the sound of a phone ringing. I want to open my eyes but they feel so heavy. And my head hurts. And I’m starving. Why am I so hungry? When was the last time I ate? It feels like I haven’t eaten since Christmas.
The phone continues to ring, but it’s not mine. It’s a generic ringtone I don’t recognize. I have “A Little Bit of Magic” by Ruby Rivera programmed as my ringtone.
Ruby Rivera…
Oh my gosh, I had this strange dream that I was Ruby Rivera. I was on the set of Ruby of the Lamp and I was filming a scene with Ryder Vance and I was—
“Are you going to answer that?” an unfamiliar male voice says.
“I don’t recognize the number,” another voice says. This one is female. “Let it go to voice mail.”
Eventually, the phone stops ringing and I try to pull my eyes open.
“She’s coming to,” the man says.
“Is she going to be all right?” the woman asks. She sounds panicked. “I can’t believe this happened.”
“She’s going to be fine,” says the man. “It’s probably just stress.”
The woman sighs. “I told Barry she wasn’t ready for that kiss scene. But does he listen? No. And now look what’s happened.”
Kiss scene?
“It also wouldn’t hurt her to eat a little more,” the man says. “I have some crackers in my bag.”
Ooh. I want crackers.
I finally manage to drag my eyes open to see that I’m lying on a bed and there’s a man and woman hovering over me. I’ve never seen the man in my life, but I definitely know that woman. She’s petite, with wavy brown hair, the most perfectly sculpted eyebrows I’ve ever seen, and tons of makeup.
“Oh, baby,” she says, reaching out and brushing hair from my forehead. “Thank heavens you’re okay.”
And that’s when I know I must still be dreaming, because I’m almost certain that I’m staring at Eva Rivera, Ruby Rivera’s mother and manager.
“What happened?” she asks, her eyebrows knitting in concern.
I sit up and take in my surroundings. I’m inside some kind of long, rectangular room. A trailer? In front of me, there’s a tiny kitchen with a fridge, microwave, sink, and even a tiny oven and stove. Across from the kitchen is a small living room with a dark brown leather couch and a flat-screen TV.
The woman who looks like Eva Rivera sits down next to me on the bed and presses a cool hand against my forehead.
The man, who has been rifling through a nearby black bag, returns, holding a bag of crackers. I nearly cry out in relief. Food! I go to reach for them but the Eva Rivera look-alike grabs them first. “Thanks, Doctor.”
Doctor? Why is there a doctor here?
I hear a knock and Eva calls “Come in!”
A door next to the tiny kitchen opens and in walks that tall, skinny guy with the clipboard.
“What?” Eva barks, clearly not happy to see him.
He doesn’t even look her in the eye when he speaks. “Barry wants to know when she’ll be ready to come back to set.”
“Come back?” Eva screeches, and I cringe at the sound. “She fainted! Does he not understand that? She fainted and it’s his fault.” She turns to the doctor. “Tell him she’s not ready. Tell him she needs to take the rest of the day off.”
“Well,” the doctor says, squirming slightly. “If she’s feeling up to it, then—” But Eva shoots him a very scary look and he quickly changes his answer. “She probably could benefit from some extra rest.”
“You see?” Eva says to the man still cowering in the doorway. “I’m taking her home. Doctor’s orders. And maybe that’ll give Barry time to think about his decisions today.”
The nervous-looking guy nods, still refusing to meet her gaze, then leaves and closes the door softly behind him.
The doctor clears his throat. “Well, I guess I’ll be going.” He turns and gives me a gentle smile. “Take it easy.”
After he leaves, Eva turns back to me and sighs. “My poor baby. Let’s get you home and into bed so you can rest. Do you want some water?”
I nod, and she hops up from the bed and scurries over to the kitchen. When she opens the fridge, I see it’s fully stocked with bottles of water, juice, and diet soda. It reminds me of a minibar in a fancy hotel room.
“Is that apple juice?” I ask, squinting at the shelves. “Can I have one of those?”
Eva Rivera lets out a tinkling little laugh as she grabs a bottle of water. “Don’t be silly,” she says. “You know how many grams of sugar are in that?”
I squint in confusion. “But it’s fruit.”
She hands me the water. “Exactly.”
I unscrew the cap and take a long swig. “Not too much,” she says in a warning tone. “Or you’ll look bloated.”
I stare at the water bottle in my hand.
Bloated?
The phone rings again—that same generic ringtone—and I watch Eva Rivera grab it from a nearby nightstand and frown at the screen. “Who keeps calling from a four-one-three area code? I hope your number didn’t get leaked again. I don’t want to have to change it a third time.”
Four-one-three?
That’s the area code in Amherst. Is Leah calling me?
Eva drops the phone on the bed, and I immediately scoop it up and stare at the caller ID in confusion.
Wait a minute. That’s my phone number. Who’s calling from my phone? I swipe to answer the call and press the phone hesitantly to my ear. “Hello?”
“Skylar?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s me! Ruby!”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. “What?” I shout, causing the scary lady to give me a strange look.
I cover the phone with my hand. “Uh…sorry. I just have to take this really quick.” I scoot off the bed and wande
r into the first door I see. It’s a tiny bathroom. I hastily shut the door. It’s pitch-dark in here, but I can’t find the light switch, so I just feel around until I find the toilet and sit on the closed lid.
“Ruby Rivera?” I whisper into the phone.
“Yes.”
I’m still not following. “What are you doing calling from my phone?”
There’s a long pause and I worry we’ve been disconnected. “I think something happened during that earthquake. Something really strange.”
Memories come flooding back to me. I remember leaving the prop room. I remember that woman dressing me in that big room full of clothes. I remember standing under hot lights while Ryder Vance leaned in to kiss me. I remember hiccupping in his face. That was a dream, wasn’t it? A really weird, horrifying dream.
“What do you mean?” I ask warily.
“Have you looked in a mirror yet?” Ruby says.
“No,” I reply, my voice shaking.
“Find a mirror,” she says, and there’s something in her voice that really freaks me out. It’s not just that she doesn’t sound like the Ruby Rivera I’ve watched on TV for the past four years. It’s that she sounds terrified.
I feel around the wall until I finally locate the light panel and flip on the switch. It takes a moment for the lights in the tiny bathroom to flicker on, but once they do, I find it difficult to breathe.
I’m looking into a mirror, but not at my face. The girl in the reflection is staring back at me wide-eyed, with a phone pressed to her ear, but it’s not me. It’s…it’s…
“It’s you,” I whisper into the phone.
She lets out a sigh, like this somehow makes her feel better, although I can’t imagine why. “I know. And when I look into a mirror, I see you.”
I blink. The girl in the mirror blinks, too. “You do?” I screech.
There’s a knock on the door. “Ruby? Is everything okay?”
I leap at the sound and rush to lock the door. “Yes! I’m fine!”
“Is that my mom?” Ruby asks.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I think I’m in your trailer.”
I continue to stare into the mirror, touching my face and watching as the girl in the reflection—Ruby Rivera!—touches her face, too. “Um, so, what is happening?”
She huffs out a breath. “I don’t know. It’s like…it’s like we…”
But I realize she can’t say it. Not aloud. Because it would sound crazy. It sounds crazy in my head. But someone has to say it.
“Switched bodies?” I ask.
Yup, definitely crazy.
“Yeah!” she says, sounding relieved that I’m the one who was brave enough to utter the words.
“But how?” I ask. I touch my nose. Ruby’s perfect, dainty, adorable nose.
“Skylar?” I hear a distant voice call through the phone. “Are you all right in there?”
“Uh…,” Ruby says hesitantly, her voice slightly muffled. “Yeah! I just…um, have a little stomachache.”
“Was that my mom?” I ask, dropping my hand from my face.
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing with my mom!”
“She picked me up from the studio. She thinks I’m you! Then we drove for more than an hour. I think I’m in your apartment. I don’t know. The first thing I did when we got here was find a bathroom and lock myself inside.”
Ruby Rivera is in my bathroom?
I glance at my reflection in the mirror again and shake my head. No. Ruby Rivera is in this mirror. Then who’s on the phone?
This is weird.
“Your mom is really mad at me,” the girl on the phone says, and then quickly corrects herself. “Or at you, I guess.”
I cringe. “How mad?”
Ruby lets out a low whistle. “Pretty mad. She lectured me the entire drive here. Did you really ditch school, take a bus to Burbank, use her credit card to buy a studio tour, and then jump off the tram?”
“I…um…sort of had a bad day.” I touch my face again, running my fingers over that perfectly shaped chin. “How do you think it happened?”
“I don’t know!” Ruby cries.
“Did it have something to do with the earthquake?” I wonder aloud.
“Maybe,” Ruby says.
“But when I came out of the prop room, no one else seemed to be fazed by it.”
Ruby scoffs. “Well, this is Southern California. Earthquakes are more common than rain here. Let’s retrace our steps. When was the last time you were”—she falters— “well…you?”
I bite my lip. “I don’t know. I thought I was…um…me when I came out of the prop room, but now I’m not sure.”
“I definitely wasn’t me when I came out of the prop room,” Ruby says. “No one recognized me when I walked back to the soundstage, and then I got chased by security and hauled off to the visitor center.”
“Oh! Security was chasing me when I first ran into the prop room.”
“So something happened in that prop room,” Ruby concludes.
“Hmm.” I watch Ruby’s mouth twist in concentration in the mirror. This is so strange. I’m talking to her on the phone and looking at her in the mirror at the same time, except it’s not really her on the phone and it’s not really her in the mirror.
Or is it the other way around? I’m so confused!
I turn my back to the reflection so I can think. I struggle to remember everything that happened in that prop room. The memories are fuzzy, but they slowly start to come back to me. I remember trying to make conversation about the props. Then I gave up and burst into tears. Ruby sat down next to me and we started to talk. Eventually, I said I wished I had Ruby’s life and she said she wished she had mine.
Yes! I remember! It was right after I found the…
Oh my gosh.
My whole body freezes.
Ruby must be on the exact same train of thought as me, because a moment later, we both shout the same thing at the same time.
“The lamp!”
“You were holding it when you said you wished you could have my life!” I say with sudden realization.
“So were you!” Skylar exclaims.
“So the lamp actually granted our wish?” I confirm, feeling ridiculous even saying it. How could a stupid fake prop from a stupid fake show grant wishes?
I stick my thumbnail in my mouth. I know Mom would disapprove of me chewing on my nails, but technically it’s not really me chewing it. It’s not even my nail! The strange girl in the mirror is chewing her nail. And it’s really freaking me out.
I can’t look at her anymore.
I turn my back to the mirror and sit on the toilet lid to think.
“Is it possible the lamp is like…” Skylar’s voice trails off. I can tell she’s having as much trouble wrapping her head around this as I am. “…the real deal?”
The real deal.
As soon as she says it, I get a flash of memory. It’s faint and hazy. From a few years ago.
“This one. This one right here. This is the real deal. I found it in a heap of junk at the Santa Clarita flea market.”
It was Jericho who said this. He was so proud of that lamp when he brought it to the set. He said he immediately knew it was special. It’s only appeared in one episode. Ruby had a dream about her mother being trapped in that lamp. She’s been looking for it ever since.
But it can’t actually be real. Genies aren’t real! Therefore, magic lamps that grant wishes aren’t real!
“Hello?” comes Skylar’s voice, breaking into my thoughts.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m here.”
“So,” Skylar prompts. “Do you think the lamp is real?”
No, I think automatically. I don’t think anything from that show is real.
But that reflection i
n the mirror is telling me otherwise.
“We should check it out,” I finally say.
“Check it out?” she repeats, sounding confused. “How?”
I rack my brain, trying to come up with options. I sigh. “You need to get back to that prop room.”
“Don’t worry,” Ruby Rivera tells me. “I’ll walk you through the soundstage. Just keep me on the phone.”
“Okay,” I say, sounding much less confident than she does.
I ease open the bathroom door to find Eva Rivera standing there scowling at me, with her hands on her hips.
“What was that about?” she demands.
Unsure how to respond, I press the phone tighter against my ear, waiting for Ruby to tell me what to say. Eva’s gaze flicks to the device. “Who are you on the phone with?”
“Tell her it’s Carey Divine,” Ruby Rivera whispers urgently in my ear.
“It’s Carey Divine,” I say quickly, gesturing to the phone.
Eva softens. “Oh? Why was she calling from a four-one-three area code?”
“She had to borrow a PA’s phone,” Ruby prompts me.
I repeat the explanation, having no idea what it means.
“What are you two talking about?” Eva asks, and I can tell she’s suspicious of something.
“The Tween Choice Awards,” Ruby says.
“The Tween Choice Awards,” I repeat.
Eva’s mouth turns to a hard line. “She better not be wearing Cynthia Rowley. Did you tell her we already claimed Rowley?”
Ruby groans in my ear. “Shut up, Mom.”
I open my mouth to repeat that but Ruby catches me before I do. “No, don’t say that! Just tell her to stop worrying.”
“Ruby Rivera says to stop worrying,” I say.
“What?” Ruby and her mom say at once.
“I mean, stop worrying,” I fumble.
Eva pins me with another inquisitive stare. “We really need to get you home. You’re obviously not feeling well. Russ cleared your shooting schedule for the day and rescheduled all your scenes for tomorrow.”
“They’re sending you home?” Ruby asks.