by Alesha Dixon
But I’m not sure I quite fit into this world.
I miss laughing my head off with Beth. I miss Daisy greeting me every morning like I’ve been gone for years. I miss my cheery parents, always with their heads in the clouds. I miss my loud, annoying brothers and being able to phone my sister whenever I want.
And I never thought I’d say this, EVER, but I kind of miss school.
I miss hanging out with friends, complaining about lessons and teachers together, and the routine of it all. Plus, I know now that Ali may put on a front, but she sometimes feels as out of place as the rest of us, so I wouldn’t be so intimidated by her. Maybe, I’d even try to let her know that I feel the same, in case she needed someone to talk to.
That’s what Naomi doesn’t have. She’s surrounded by people all day long, but has no one to talk to. No one to laugh, complain or dance around stupidly with. I hate the fact that her life is scrutinized by the paparazzi. She has to take herself seriously, because everything she does is taken seriously.
And I feel horrible for her that she felt like she could confide in her previous personal assistant and then they went and sold all those stories to the papers. No wonder she doesn’t let anyone in. I wouldn’t.
A fear creeps into my mind.
What if this is it? What if Naomi Starr and I can’t swap back? We have no idea if living out each other’s lives is the answer to this body swap puzzle. It was a guess. Am I never going to be able to spend time with my family again? What about Daisy? Will I never sleep in the same bed as a smelly, perfect scruffball again?
I feel an overwhelming urge to go through HOW TO SHINE. The answer has to be something to do with that book.
“Sam,” I say, swivelling round in my chair as someone wipes away the mascara from under my eyes and someone else attempts to untangle the eye mask from my hair.
He’s typing something on the tablet, but snaps his head up immediately.
“Yes?”
“Did you pack my bag for this trip?”
“You stylists packed for you,” he says, gesturing to the people by the clothes rail, who are busy pairing shoes with skirts.
“Did anyone pack a book? Kind of old, it was by my bed, I think,” I say, remembering seeing it on the bedside table this morning as I got ready in a daze.
The others in the room shake their heads.
“Sam, do we go back to London this afternoon after all these interviews?”
“No, we’re in Leeds this afternoon, before heading to Newcastle. We have some promotion spots for this make-up range. And on Thursday night you’ve got your concert in Birmingham.”
“So, I’m not going home any time soon?” I ask, my heart sinking.
“We’ll be going home on Friday morning. Is there something you’ve forgotten?”
“It’s a book,” I explain, slumping back into my seat. “I left it behind.”
“Which book is it?” he asks. “I can download it or we can ask one of the runners here to pop out and buy it for you. There are plenty of book shops around here.”
“No, this one you can’t find in shops. It’s special. You scheduled in some downtime on Friday, right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” he says proudly, holding up the tablet screen so I can see my hectic, fully booked calendar. “It’s scheduled in for four p.m.”
“Good. I need to visit a library.”
“For this book?” He looks unimpressed. “Are you sure I can’t download it for you?”
There’s a knock on the door and the publicist who showed us here pops her head round.
“It’s time to make your way to the first studio, if you’re ready.”
“Sure.”
I reluctantly push myself up from the chair, my limbs aching from tiredness.
“So, tell me, Sam,” I say as enthusiastically as I can muster, “what is it that I am promoting today?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
(AS RUBY)
On Friday morning, I come down the stairs with Daisy and hear a voice I don’t recognize coming from the kitchen.
“Who took away the lock on the bathroom door? It’s so annoying!”
Standing next to Callie is a tall girl in her twenties wearing a hoodie and pyjama shorts. She looks just like Ruby. Daisy barks and scampers over to greet her. Her eyes light up when she sees me standing in the doorway.
“RUBY!” she cries, enveloping me in a huge hug. “I’ve missed you so much! How’s my perfect little sister?”
“Isabella is home for a long weekend,” Callie explains, looking like she might burst with happiness. “She got here late last night and didn’t want to wake us up. Isn’t it great? Such a treat!”
“Mum, the way you’re talking, anyone would think I’ve been away for years.” Isabella laughs, pulling away from me and rolling her eyes. “Come on, Ruby, fill me in on your life! How’s school? Same as ever? Last time we spoke, you’d just met Naomi Starr in that library! What was she like?”
“Uh . . . she was . . . a little bit spoilt and rude, actually,” I reply honestly. “It’s really nice to see you, Isabella.”
“You too,” she grins, ruffling my hair. “You look taller.”
“I was saying that to your dad yesterday,” Callie remarks, beaming at us. “I think Ruby has grown the past week. Anyway, both of you come sit down and have breakfast.”
Isabella puts her arm round my shoulders and we go to sit down at the table, where the rest of the family are gathered, slowly waking up.
“Roman ate my toast,” Reggie says grumpily, as Isabella takes the seat next to him. “Go make me more toast, Roman.”
“It was my toast, you stole it from me,” Roman argues, yawning with his mouth full. “Make your own toast.”
“I’m pretty sure you both stole my toast,” John grumbles. “I was the one who put those slices in the toaster and then you two snatched them.”
“You’re one to talk, John,” Jeroame huffs. “I saw you taking a gulp of my coffee.”
“Nothing’s changed around here, Isabella,” Anthony chuckles, passing her the juice.
I clear my throat.
“Actually, I wanted to tell you all something,” I begin nervously.
I stay standing, determined to keep their attention. I’ve worked out that breakfast is less chaotic than dinnertime, so specifically waited until this morning to make the announcement.
“I’m in the final of the school talent show. It’s this afternoon at five p.m. And I wondered whether you might want to come and watch me.”
Callie and Anthony stop what they’re doing and stare at me. Isabella slowly puts the juice down. John and Jeroame look up, intrigued. Roman and Reggie continue eating, but narrow their eyes in exactly the same way as though they don’t quite believe me.
“Are you serious?” Isabella asks, looking to her parents for confirmation.
“Yes. I am serious.”
I take a deep breath. I really hope Ruby forgives me for what I’m about to do. Although, to be fair, she did dye my hair pink, so it’s payback time.
“I never told anyone because I was too nervous, but I love singing and dancing. I’m pretty good at doing both. I’ve been working really hard on my performance and I auditioned last week and got through to the final.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Roman puts down his piece of toast, which Reggie steals from his plate quick as a flash. “Someone said you were in the talent show and I thought it was a joke.”
“Yeah, same.” John nods. “Are you really going up on stage, Ruby?”
“Yes, and I’d like it if you were all in the audience. If that’s possible. I know it’s late notice.”
“I will be there!” Isabella says firmly. “Ruby, this is AMAZING news!! I didn’t know you could sing!”
“Neither did I!” Anthony exclaims. “This is fantastic, Ruby. I’ll call the hospital and see if someone can cover my shift this afternoon. I am not missing my daughter up on stage in the final of a talent show!”
“Ruby, th
is is so random!” Jeroame laughs. “It’s brilliant; you should have told us about this secret talent of yours. Obviously, we’ll be in the audience cheering you on.”
“Yeah, you’re going to need all the help you can get,” Roman says with a mischievous smile. Isabella reaches over and whacks him round the head. “OUCH. I was joking! I’ve never been prouder of you, Ruby. If you don’t win, those judges will be in serious trouble.”
“That’s right, Ruby, we’ve got your back,” Reggie says through a mouthful of toast. “This is awesome. We could do with some more talent in this family. I’m holding the fort all on my own.”
“I’ll go make you your breakfast,” John says eagerly, jumping up from the table. “You’re going to need your energy today. I can’t wait to tell my friends that my little sister made the finals. No pressure, but try to beat that Ali person who usually wins. She keeps giving me evil looks ever since I pointed out a grammar mistake on her party invitation.”
“Guys, look at Mum,” Isabella insists. “She’s crying!”
“I’m not crying,” Callie says, sniffing and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. “All right, FINE, I’m crying! I’m so proud of you, Ruby! You’re amazing!”
I burst out laughing. “You haven’t seen me perform yet!”
“I don’t have to,” she says, her eyes glistening as she smiles up at me. “I already know you’re a star. You may have tried to hide that sparkle away, but it’s been there all along.”
*
I get the text while I am trying to concentrate in history class.
I’ve been distracted at school all day, too nervous about the talent show to pay attention to any of the teachers.
Ruby’s family hasn’t made it any easier either. On our way to school, Roman cleared his throat and announced to an entire bus full of students and strangers that his little sister Ruby was in the talent show final and he thought I deserved a big round of applause. Everyone on the bus started clapping and whooping. It was so embarrassing. And awesome.
I even forgave the man squishing me into the bus window with his stupid backpack. Before he got off the bus, he wished me luck, which was nice of him.
Since then, loads of random kids passing me in corridors have shouted, “Good luck, Ruby!” Ruby’s brothers have clearly spread the word and it feels like the whole school is behind me.
The talent show is drawing closer and closer, and I am sitting in history class wondering if the Tudors ever felt as nervous as I did. I figure that they probably were quite nervous when they were about to have their heads chopped off or whatever, and just as I am thinking how gross that is, Ruby’s phone vibrates with a text.
It’s from the library.
This is an automated message reminding you
that the book you have on loan is due back
TODAY. Please return or renew it by five p.m.
I have the HOW TO SHINE book in my bag. The past few days, I’ve been bringing it to school because some of the chapters have some very handy tips that I’ve been sharing with the rest of my Starr Squad at the beginning of our after-school rehearsals.
That’s what Beth has been calling our talent show team: the Starr Squad, because we’re performing a mash-up of two songs from my latest album. The mash-up is SO cool. I wish I could play it for Mum and hear what she thinks.
We’ve been working so hard all week for the talent show. Beth has been directing and she really has a flair for both the stage vision and also telling everyone what to do. The other dancers have put their all into the rehearsals and I’ve loved teaching them the choreography to my songs, but also brainstorming ideas with them. At the beginning of the week, they only knew a couple of the steps, and then last night it blew my mind watching them do the whole routine. I couldn’t believe how far they’d come in just one week! And that I’d actually taught them all those moves!
Me! Naomi Starr!
Who knew that teaching was one of my many talents?!
Ollie has also done the most incredible job for the backdrop. He worked with the girl who is helping us with lighting, and together they’ve created an illusion so that for the first part of the song, the backdrop looks like a London alleyway, with graffiti on the buildings lining the street. Then when the mash-up kicks in and we switch to another song, the lighting changes, transforming the backdrop into a pretty, cobbled street with old school lampposts and stars twinkling in the sky above.
“How did you do that?” I’d asked, gasping as we did a technical run-through on the stage.
“Teamwork,” Ollie had replied happily.
I’d told him off for being so cheesy, but smiled all the same.
Rehearsing for this talent show has reminded me how much I want to be back in that central London dance studio with my backing dancers and with Martin, no matter how annoying his voice is. It has felt amazing this week to see something come together that I’ve worked so hard on, and I want to get that feeling with my own music again. I miss being a pop star. It’s who I am.
As soon as I read that text, I know I have to go renew HOW TO SHINE at the library so Ruby and I can keep working together on swapping back.
“But you have to get ready!” Beth says, when I tell her after school that I have to go out for a bit. She’s checking the lens of her camera. John has asked her to photograph the talent show for the school paper. “Do you really have to go somewhere now? We don’t have long until it starts!”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “But I promise I’ll be back in time for the start of the show.”
Before she can protest, I turn on my heel and race out of there, the book tucked away safely in my bag. When I get on the bus towards the library, I smile to myself, remembering the last time I was there. It feels like a lifetime ago.
“Ruby!” The librarian gives me a warm smile as I come through the door. “It’s so lovely to see you. And I’m about to make your day.”
“How?”
“Look who’s here again,” she whispers, pointing very unsubtly at the arts section. “She walked in about a minute before you did.”
A girl steps out from behind the stack of books, clutching a copy of HOW TO SHINE.
You know, seeing yourself standing right there in front of you really doesn’t get old.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
(AS NAOMI)
“What are you doing here?”
She looks genuinely happy to see me, which is a relief. I thought she might be cross about me almost destroying her make-up empire before it had begun. The pictures of her with mascara smudged round her face and the eye mask tangled in her hair hadn’t exactly been great press for launching a beauty line.
Surprisingly, Riley had thought it was a stroke of genius.
“It’s all very relatable!” she’d insisted, once she’d finished laughing at the pictures. “No one wakes up with their make-up and hair perfect, do they? I look terrible after a nap, especially in a car. You look remarkably fresh in comparison, trust me.”
As Naomi approaches me, Rose looks stunned that we’re smiling at each other like old friends. I gesture for Naomi to follow me to a table at the back of the library where we’re out of earshot.
“What are you doing here?” I ask in response, once we’re sitting down.
“I’m here to renew the book. I got the text reminder,” she says, watching me closely. “Did you remember off the top of your head that you needed to return your copy today? You’re a bigger nerd than I thought.”
“I didn’t remember.” I sit back in my chair, slightly defeated. “It sounds stupid but I thought being here might help me work out how to swap us back. I don’t know why.”
“It doesn’t sound stupid. Everything is worth a try. We got both our copies from here; it makes sense that being in this place might hold the answer somehow.”
“I’ve been hiding in the arts section, flicking through the pages, reading that passage again, hoping that it might glow,” I admit. “But it didn’t, obviously, because he
re we are and nothing’s changed. I don’t know what else to do.”
She taps her fingers on the table and I can’t help but smile at the sight of my nails, much longer than they were and beautifully painted. Not one chip in the polish. She may look like me, but it’s definitely Naomi.
“Maybe we got it wrong and it’s nothing to do with the book,” she says eventually. “Maybe it really was nuclear waste.”
“You might have been right about that all along.” I think back to our meeting in the Ritz when she made that ridiculous suggestion. It feels like a lifetime ago. “It’s so crazy that this happened. No one would ever believe us.”
“I don’t know,” she says with a hint of a smile. “We have been acting slightly odd recently. You’ve definitely got a few more detentions than normal.”
“Thanks for that.”
“Hey! You weren’t the one who had to sit through them. And don’t think I didn’t notice the eye mask incident.” She raises her eyebrows at me. “Was that supposed to be an attempt at accessorizing?”
“It got knotted in my hair by accident,” I explain apologetically. “There also wasn’t supposed to be any paparazzi around.”
“There is ALWAYS paparazzi around.”
“I’ve noticed. How do you cope with that pressure all the time?”
“I was taught how to deal with it from when I was little. Mum has always protected me and made sure I had a really good security detail.” She pauses. “I miss her. I wish I could tell her about all this.”
“Why don’t we?” I say suddenly. “Why don’t we both go to your mum? Or my parents? If we go together and explain everything about the body swap, then they’ll see that what we’re saying is true!”
She furrows her forehead in concentration, considering my proposal. “But then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“Even if they do believe us, what happens then? I carry on my life but look like you, Ruby, and you carry on your life but looking like Naomi Starr?” She shakes her head. “It wouldn’t work. We’d need the whole world to believe us to go back to living our normal lives.”
