Switched at Birthday

by Natalie Standiford

  “Right.”

  The boys ran to us. John took my hand. “Where did you go? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I told him. “I just needed some air.”

  “That was a lot of air. Were you upset?” he asked. “About Zoe’s joke?”

  “Not really,” I said. “I just wasn’t feeling like myself. But I’m all better now.”

  He grinned. “Good. Want to dance?”

  “Sure.”

  A slow song started. John put his arms around me. I felt my wide feet clomp on the floor. I stepped on John’s foot. He didn’t seem to mind.

  Ah. Back to my clumsy old self.

  It felt good.

  Mom was waiting up for me in the kitchen when Charlie dropped me home after the dance. I threw my arms around her neck and kissed her. She smelled sweet, like vanilla perfume.

  “Hi, honey!” She seemed surprised at how excited I was to see her. “How was the dance?”

  “So good.” Once I’d gotten my not-so-clumsy body back, I was itching to dance. So Lavender, John, Maybelle, Ian, Charlie, and I danced until the very last song. Mr. Brummel practically had to kick us out of the gym. Then Charlie walked me home, holding my hand the whole way.

  “Tell me all about it,” she said.

  “It started out a little rocky. They had a costume contest….” I gave her a highly edited version of the evening, mostly focusing on the last part, when my friends and I made a big circle and chorus-line-kicked to every song the DJ played. She squeezed my hand while I talked.

  This is making her so happy, I thought. And all I’m doing is talking to her.

  Steve came in for a glass of water, wearing his bathrobe. “Home at last, I see. Don’t you have a ten o’clock curfew?”

  “I got home at ten,” I told him.

  “So why haven’t you come to bed yet, Leigh?”

  “Scarlet was telling me about the dance,” Mom said.

  “That’s fine, but now it’s time to come to bed.” He left the room.

  “We both should go to bed. Come on, Scarlet.” Mom led me upstairs and kissed me good night outside of my room. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

  It felt good to be home. Back to my big, comfortable room, which Lavender had left in a mess. I changed out of my hula costume and into my pajamas, straightening things up as I went. I could hear Ben through the wall, playing Skullmuncher 7. I went out and knocked on his door.

  “Go away,” Ben called.

  “It’s me, Scarlet.”

  Normally that would make him yell “Go away” even louder. But I remembered what Lavender had told me — that he was lonely — and thought I’d see for myself.

  He opened the door. “Yeah?”

  “Ben, I’ve been thinking.” I stepped into his room and shut the door behind me, a bold move the old Scarlet never would have dared.

  And he protested, right on schedule. “Hey, what are you —?”

  “We need to make some changes around here, starting with the way Steve treats us,” I said, interrupting him. “Both of us. Are you in?”

  Ben looked confused at first, but then he grinned.

  “What did you have in mind?” he asked.

  “Here she comes, Queen of the Shopping Mall,” Steve said when I came down for breakfast the next morning. I wasn’t wearing anything unusual, just my favorite jeans and a blue top with silver threads knitted through it. “Flashier than a disco ball. Where are you off to today — out to spend more of my money?”

  I refused to let him get to me. The old Scarlet would have cowered or sulked, like Mom did. Not anymore. “Actually, I’m going to go over to my friend Lavender’s to practice for the musical.”

  “I thought you didn’t get a part, sweetie,” Mom said.

  “I’m in the chorus,” I said. “The chorus is important too.”

  “The chorus is for the no-talents, right, Ben?” Steve looked to Ben, expecting support. But he wasn’t going to get it.

  I hoped.

  Ben just stirred his Coco Puffs till the milk turned brown.

  That didn’t stop Steve. “I keep telling you, Scarlet — stick to what you’re good at. Of course, some people aren’t good at much of anything. I’m still waiting for Ben to figure out what talent he’s got besides loafing around.”

  “He’s good at playing games,” I said. I was determined to stick up for Ben, whether he stuck up for me or not.

  “I mean something worthwhile,” Steve said.

  “Ben’s good at a lot of things,” I said. I didn’t know what they were, but there had to be something he could do well. “That isn’t the point.”

  Steve stared at me with an infuriating, amused smile on his face. “Oh, and what is the point, Scarlet? I’d like to hear this.”

  “The point is …” My voice started shaking. Steve was intimidating. “The point is, you’re Ben’s father, and my stepfather, and you shouldn’t talk to us this way.”

  “What way?”

  “Disrespectfully. As if everything we say and do is stupid or wrong. Ben and I are unhappy and we want to see some changes around here. Right, Ben?”

  “Right.” Ben abandoned his Coco Puffs to stand beside me.

  “It hurts when you put us down,” I told Steve. “Just because our interests are different from yours, that doesn’t make them less worthy.”

  Steve laughed in disbelief. “Talk about disrespectful. Leigh, do you hear how your daughter is speaking to me?”

  “I have a right to voice my opinion,” I insisted.

  Mom’s eyes were wide. She looked from me to Steve without saying anything. I knew she felt torn, and I didn’t expect much help from her. It would have been nice, though.

  “Yeah, you think your opinion is the only one that counts, because you earn the money for the family,” Ben said. “But you care about money too much. You should care about my feelings sometimes. And Scarlet’s.”

  “And mine,” Mom said. She stood up with me and Ben now, the three of us facing Steve like a brick wall.

  “Yeah, and Mom too!” I put my arm around her, so happy that she was finally sticking up for herself, and for me.

  “Sit down, Leigh,” Steve said. “You’re not helping.”

  “The kids are right, Steve,” Mom said. “You could have more respect for all of us. From now on, we’re going to demand it.”

  Steve tried to hide it, but I could tell he was nervous now that he was outnumbered. “Leigh. Ben. Scarlet. My family. Come on. Let’s settle down now. Be reasonable. I care about all of you. I’m only trying to encourage you to be the best people you can be.”

  “We’re trying to help you too, Dad,” Ben said. “You could be a better father. I’m telling you how.”

  “And a better stepfather, and a better husband,” Mom added.

  His resistance was weakening. We’d gotten to him.

  “From now on, we all get a say in what happens in this house,” I declared.

  “And we will all treat one another with respect,” Mom said. “Or you’ll have a mutiny on your hands.”

  Steve hesitated. I thought he was afraid of giving up his power. But maybe he was beginning to see that he’d never really had much power in the first place. And he had very little left now.

  “All right,” he said at last. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was hurting you all so much. From now on, I’ll try to do better. But I might need a little reminder once in a while.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll be happy to remind you.”

  “Lavender, want to go shopping today? A little shopping, a little lunch?”

  Mom looked hopeful, as if she expected me to say yes to that question. And then I remembered where she’d gotten the idea that I’d gladly go shopping — from Scarlet, who had conspired with my mother to add a few new clothes to my weirdly neat room. There was even makeup, which I doubted I’d use. Although I had been successful at putting my new contact lenses in. I didn’t mind not having glasses.

&nb
sp; But Mom looked so excited I couldn’t say no. A little shopping wouldn’t kill me. “Can we go to Ma Petite Shoe?” I asked. It was the best kind of shoe store — the kind that also sold chocolate.

  “All right, if you promise to try on at least one pair of shoes.”

  “Deal,” I said. “Want to come, Rosemary?”

  “Shopping again?” Dad thoughtfully chewed on a slice of bacon. “What, did you grow out of last week’s clothes already?”

  “We’re building a wardrobe, Frank,” Mom said. “We’re just getting started. And don’t worry — we’re not spending a lot of money. We’re being very choosy.”

  Dad shrugged. “I don’t see the point. It makes no difference what you wear, Lavender. You always look beautiful to me.”

  “Aw, Dad.” I kissed him on the forehead. The kitchen went silent. That “aw” was a clear signal that the Lavender they once knew was gone.

  And yet, she wasn’t. I was back, the real Lavender. I’d just changed a lot in the last few days.

  Rosemary — who, with her freaky radar, seemed to sense that something uncanny was happening — studied me through her thick glasses, ready to pounce on any sign that I wasn’t the old Lavender. I was about to ask, “What are you blinking at, Rabbit-face?” but the snark got caught in my throat. I remembered Ben, and Scarlet’s mom, and Steve — the family I had almost been stuck with forever — and a surge of grateful warmth for Mom and Dad and Rosemary flooded through me. They were my family, they loved me, and yes, I loved them too. I wouldn’t have been comfortable with anyone else.

  “What’s everybody staring at?” I scooted my chair in close to the table. “Is there any scrapple in the house? I’ve been craving scrapple like crazy.”

  “But Lavender, a few days ago you said you hated scrapple,” Detective Rosemary said.

  Scarlet had made a few changes that were good, but others needed to be undone immediately. “Never, Rosemary. I’ll love scrapple till the day I die. And if you ever hear me say I don’t like it, you’ll know I’ve been possessed by the spirit of a picky eater and am not my true self.”

  That freaked her out so much she dropped her fork. “I knew it,” she muttered, but no one paid any attention, thank goodness.

  “All right, chorus,” Mr. Brummel said. “Let’s run through ‘Trouble’ one more time.”

  Monday afternoon, back at school after the Spooktacular, back in my good old Scarlet Martinez body. Also back to my Scarlet Martinez voice, unfortunately. At the beginning of rehearsal that day I tried to sing quietly, but Mr. B. scolded me.

  “The chorus represents the townspeople, and not all townspeople are good singers,” Mr. Brummel said. “I like the chorus to have an edge to it. So all of you shy singers, I want to hear your voices. Sing out! That means you, Scarlet Martinez.”

  Charlie chose that moment to pull back his curtain of hair and give me an encouraging smile. We were all in this musical together, from the stars to the stage crew. If Mr. B. needed me to sing out, then I’d sing out.

  I’d wandered through school in a happy daze all day. It felt strange to be myself again. Everything was the same, but different too. I had new friends, like Lavender and Maybelle and John. I stopped by Lavender’s locker to say hi in the morning, and she and Maybelle and I hung out in the hall together when we had breaks. That was different, in a nice way.

  Zoe and Kelsey huddled together by themselves, quieter than usual. I knew that wouldn’t last long. Zoe would be trying to run the school again in no time. But I’d be surprised if she dared to try any of her old tricks. We wouldn’t let her get away with that anymore.

  I was back to my old form at soccer practice. The one thing I missed was rehearsing with Charlie. Lavender looked like she was having so much fun with him onstage.

  She must have read my mind, because after rehearsal she found me and said, “Don’t worry. Those stage kisses aren’t real.”

  “How did you know what I was thinking?” I asked.

  “Because I know you,” she said. “And you know me.”

  She was right: Nobody knew me like Lavender did. And nobody knew her like I did. Inside and out. Backward and forward. Upward and downward … the bad and the good.

  That, I decided, was the best kind of friend.

  Six weeks later, under the watchful eye of Don Ho, I stood center stage with Charlie and took my bows. The Music Man was a smashing success.

  I loved being onstage and singing. I loved being Marian, and I loved being me.

  The rest of the cast joined us onstage. As we clasped hands, I peeked down the chorus line at Scarlet, who was glowing.

  The audience rose to its feet, cheering. Mom and Dad and Rosemary clapped and whistled in the front row. A few rows back Scarlet’s mother beamed with pride, while Ben and Steve cheered for Scarlet. Ben wore a T-shirt that said GO PRINCESS P.

  My time as Scarlet didn’t turn me into a supercool girl. I went right back to being my same old schlubby self. Though I did start washing my hair more often. And I felt less lonely. My list of friends was getting long, and growing.

  As William Shakespeare said: All’s well that ends well.

  The curtain fell and rose again for another ovation. John brought me a bouquet of flowers he’d folded himself.

  It was the best night of my life.

  Natalie Standiford’s birthday falls in the month of November, and while she’s made many birthday wishes, she’s never woken up in another person’s body. She was born and raised in Maryland, and now lives in New York City. She is also the author of The Secret Tree and a book in The 39 Clues series. You can find her online at www.nataliestandiford.com.

  Copyright © 2014 by Natalie Standiford

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Standiford, Natalie, author.

  Switched at birthday / Natalie Standiford. — First edition.

  pages cm

  Summary: Lavender sees herself as the miserable but tough outsider at school, while Scarlet knows she is talented and popular, but insecure on the inside — then, on their mutual thirteenth birthday, they wake up in each other’s bodies and are forced to learn what it means to walk in someone else’s shoes.

  ISBN 978-0-545-34650-4 (jacketed hardcover) 1. Identity (Philosophical concept) — Juvenile fiction. 2. Change (Psychology) — Juvenile fiction. 3. Magic — Juvenile fiction. 4. Birthdays — Juvenile fiction. 5. Friendship — Juvenile fiction. 6. Middle schools — Juvenile fiction. [1. Identity — Fiction. 2. Change (Psychology) — Fiction. 3. Magic — Fiction. 4. Birthdays — Fiction. 5. Friendship — Fiction. 6. Middle schools — Fiction. 7. Schools — Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.S78627Swi 2014

  813.54 — dc23

  2013018598

  First edition, March 2014

  Cover art © 2014 by Nathan Durfee

  Cover design by Nina Goffi

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-63377-2

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

 

 

 
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