Sister Switch

by Beth Garrod

  And then as if in slow motion I realized. The flying missile was the thing I’d just yanked from Mum’s bag.

  That in my surprise had flown out of my hand waaaay too hard.

  And it had just made impact.

  With Chase Cheney.

  Right on his nose. His perfect nose. His previously perfect nose.

  ‘Er…’ Chase stood up. THERE WAS AN ACTUAL SPOT OF BLOOD FORMING ON HIS NOSE! ‘Does this belong to anyone?’ Please, no, no, no. He held it up. ‘This… er…’ He squinted at it. ‘Athlete’s foot cream?’ How did I grab Dad’s cream from Mum’s bag thinking it was a pen?! He read the tube. ‘Putting the fun back into fungal?’

  His dancers broke down in fits of laughter but I was officially deceased.

  Out of all the bad things that had ever happened in my life – this was it.

  The absolute worst moment.

  The only, only silver lining was that I was never ever going to admit that it was me who threw it. Chase would never know. Not if the world was ending and humanity depended on it. It didn’t even matter that I was in Erin’s body – the difference between Chase-assaulter and sister-of-Chase-assaulter was too small for my liking.

  ‘Anyone?’ Chase held Dad’s cream out, scanning all the people who had paused to stare. I stopped breathing. I couldn’t risk moving a single muscle in case Chase looked over.

  ‘Yup.’ Erin stepped forward. What was she doing?! ‘It’s my sister’s. As in, this person here.’ She pointed at me. How could she?

  ‘I hate you.’ It just popped out.

  But when I looked back Chase was standing right. In. Front. Of. Me.

  ‘You hate me?’ He held the tube out. It definitely had a nose-shaped dent in it.

  My mouth opened. And closed. Then gasped as it realized I hadn’t breathed in over a minute.

  ‘No!’ I grabbed the stupid tube hoping it could disappear for ever. ‘My sister.’ Could I play this cool? ‘I hate her. I love you.’ Did I just tell Chase I loved him? Probably not the definition of playing it cool. ‘I’m sorry. It was an accident.’

  Erin sniggered. I kicked her foot.

  Chase smiled his mega-watt smile (focus on the smile, Lily, not the trickle of blood). I couldn’t believe I was talking to my life idol! I couldn’t believe I’d maimed him! ‘Well, I hope the foot trouble clears up soon. The key is breathable fabrics. Always.’

  And with that Chase and his entourage walked off.

  I had to crouch in a foetal position on the floor for two to three minutes to recover.

  ‘So you’ve branched out from injuring my boyfriend to major pop stars?’ My sister had not stopped chuckling the whole time. ‘Good to know no one is safe around you.’

  But I was fuming. And now no one was around to hear, I wasn’t going to hold back…

  ‘Why did you have to tell him it was me, Erin? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?’

  ‘I wasn’t the one who threw foot cream in his face.’ She was loving this. ‘Those edges are deceptively sharp.’ Not helpful.

  ‘IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!’

  ‘Isn’t it always?!’ She folded her arms.

  ‘Says you! Who nothing ever goes wrong for!’ Uh-oh. Now it had started to spill out, I wasn’t sure it would stop. ‘Everything always goes right without you even trying!’

  Erin shrugged. ‘I don’t even know what you like about him. His music sounds like something Mum would listen to.’ She knew this wasn’t true as Mum mainly listened to news programmes about gardens or motivational rain showers.

  Why did she have to be like this?

  ‘And if you ask me he needs a serious haircut.’ How could she say that about the man who won Best Fringe Flick two years running?!

  ‘As if—’ But something shut me up. Or someone. Agatha herself just hurried past us, marching through the big swing doors. Our argument stopped dead. Because as much as we hated each other right now – we hated being each other even more. We had to follow her!

  ‘Lily Mavers?’ A woman with a headset marched over. ‘Is Lily here?’ She was shouting at full volume to anyone who would listen. ‘LILY MAVERS?’

  My sister raised her hand and the woman immediately shoved a lanyard over her head. ‘Good, we’ve been looking for you everywhere. Didn’t they tell you to wait downstairs? Follow me.’

  As the woman beckoned her to follow, Erin turned back to me. For the first time in my life, I swear she looked worried. Was it because of where she was going, or because she was leaving me alone to follow Agatha?

  ‘I’ll do HG,’ I hissed. Such cunning code. ‘You do you. And remember, phone on at all times.’

  ‘Please don’t mess this up,’ was all my sister said back. Such a confidence boost. But there was no time to stress. If Agatha’s job was helping people get ready, she might not be hanging around for too long. I raced through the swing doors, but the corridor split three ways. This place was huge. Where had she gone?! As I spun round, I saw a reflection in the glass of one of the ginormous pictures on the wall. The Hairy Godmother!

  I wasn’t going to let her get away, not this time. My heart racing, I sprinted after her. This walkway circled right round the stadium, so if I kept going I’d have to catch up with her.

  Another roar went up from the crowd as the support band finished a song. But it bounced right off me. All I could think about was Agatha.

  And she’d just turned into a room.

  A production office that backed on to the seating, so there was no other way out.

  I stopped in front of it. I had no idea what I would say, but I was ready to do whatever it took to get my life back.

  The risk of taking Frankie’s tickets had paid off.

  I’d found the clues and I’d found Agatha.

  I looked at the big HG PRODUCTIONS sign on the door, took a deep breath and pushed it open.

  Here went everything.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  It was locked. But the Hairy Godmother had to be in here.

  So why, after hammering on the door for five minutes calling her name, was there no reply?

  And worse. Why wasn’t there a sound from inside the room? Not even with my ear pressed against the door. My stomach had cramped up. Was Agatha avoiding us? But she’d left clues for us to find her here!

  Keeping one eye on the HG PRODUCTIONS sign, I checked the doors either side to be sure. One room was full of people frantically stitching and pulling outfits on to Chase’s dancers – and none of them had heard of the Hairy Godmother. And on the other side was just a big empty room, a bored man watching walkie-talkies as they charged. He referred to Chase as ‘Chris’, so I wasn’t exactly surprised when he hadn’t heard of Agatha either.

  But I wasn’t giving up. I sat against the wall opposite the door Agatha had disappeared through, hugged my knees and waited. And waited. Waited so long Chase came on stage – I could tell from the deafening screams and shouts. But I wasn’t budging. If I left this spot for a second I could lose our only chance of finding Agatha. And I was not letting that happen.

  I messaged Erin again to tell her to meet me ASAP, but like the others it didn’t deliver.

  What was she up to?!

  Wait.

  What if she was seeing Chase in action? That would be too unfair! I’d just have to hope my eyes could replay it when I got back in my body. Although Chase being on stage meant time really was running out.

  I tried the door again. Still nothing.

  Feeling guiltier than ever, I messaged Micha to say I would be later than I thought. I got a ‘fine’ in reply.

  Things felt very un-fine.

  I slumped back on the floor and carried on staring at the door as if it were a peanut and I was Barry the Hamster (RIP). But as it hit 8.30 p.m. and the loudest cheer yet went up and stayed up, with a sinking heart I knew that was it. The concert had finished. It was all over.

  And I was still in the wrong body.

  People started to fill up the corridors – laughing, joking, singing Cha
se songs, as I sat on the floor trying not to cry. When my sister eventually turned up I’d never been more relieved to see her. She looked sort of… ruffled.

  ‘You took your time.’ I scrambled to my feet.

  ‘I got away as quickly as I could.’ She was out of breath. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘First.’ I couldn’t hide my frustration at how wrong this was all going. ‘Why didn’t you reply to a single message? Rule two was phones on. At all times.’ She looked guilty. Good. ‘Please at least tell me you kept to rule one? Nothing embarrassing?’

  She avoided eye contact. ‘Well, we all have different definitions…’

  Great. I’d add that to the ‘I don’t want to know but suppose I’d better ask later’ list. We didn’t have time for this now. Quickly I filled Erin in on everything, and how HG Productions was harder to break into than Dad’s extra-posh chocolate biscuit stash.

  ‘She’s definitely in there.’ I walked over to the door. ‘I promise.’

  Erin felt around the edges of the door.

  ‘So she went in and then this locked… for good?’ She tried to turn the handle – she never took my word for anything.

  But this time, it turned.

  The door opened.

  I could not believe it.

  ‘You did try turning it?’ Erin asked. And for a millisecond I stopped thinking about Agatha, about Micha, about anything except whether if I could kill someone with a tube of athlete’s foot cream and a particularly organized handbag.

  ‘Of course I did!’ I hissed as I pushed past her. Agatha, we’re coming for you!

  But inside was not what I was expecting.

  It was the exact same, exact same, room as the hairdresser’s where we’d first met the Hairy Godmother. The desk, the chairs, the photos on the walls, the mirrors. Even the plants and photos were the same.

  But there was no sign of Agatha. And no door she could have left by.

  A chill travelled up my body. I put my hand out, hoping to make contact with my sister, needing to know she was beside me.

  She’d done the same.

  Holding hands, we edged further in.

  Behind us people were walking along the corridor, chatting and laughing as if everything were normal. But I’d never felt less normal in my life.

  ‘Is this…?’ My voice was shaking.

  ‘Weird? Very,’ Erin replied.

  Once the shock had died down, we started to look for any sign of Agatha still being here. We did a methodical sweep across the room, but there was nothing. I even pressed the walls to check I wasn’t missing anything.

  What was Agatha trying to tell us? There must have been a reason she’d brought us to this room. Today.

  So why was she making this so hard? All I wanted was my body back!

  I slumped in one of her chairs.

  ‘Do you believe me that I saw Agatha come in here?’ It mattered. It really mattered.

  My sister stopped rifling through magazines and looked at me. ‘Yup, Lil. I do.’

  And despite everything being so rubbish, Erin believing me made me feel a tiny bit better.

  ‘Five minutes.’ Walkie-talkie man put his head round the door. ‘Then we’re locking up.’

  It was almost time to leave. Time to turn our backs on the best chance we’d had of getting our lives back to normal. Maybe our last.

  ARGHHHHHH!

  I didn’t mean to but as I did another rummage under the sofa cushions, I threw one against the wall. I’d thought that maybe Agatha had swapped us to try to help me and my sister understand each other better, but we’d done it now. We’d found out what it was like to be each other. Agatha’s idea had worked. So why weren’t we back to normal?

  What have we done wrong?

  What am I missing?

  I looked at my reflection in the switched-off giant TV screen. At myself. At my sister.

  ‘Erin, are we…’ My voice faltered as my throat closed up, ready to cry. ‘Are we definitely going to get back to normal?’

  But Erin was looking right over my shoulder.

  ‘Lil… Was that always behind us?’

  I turned to see what she was looking at. The big mirror. Which had definitely not looked like that seconds ago.

  Scrawled across it in red lipstick was a message.

  IT’S EASY TO WALK A MILE IN SOMEONE ELSE’S SHOES.

  BUT HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO PUT ON THEIR SOCKS?

  Right now I couldn’t have wished harder that Dad had found us anywhere else to get our hair cut.

  I had no idea what was going on.

  And even less desire to put on Erin’s socks.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I’d recognize that crying anywhere. I’d only heard it three times in my life, but I’d never forget it.

  I listened into the cubicle. I’d ducked into the girls’ toilets because I wanted to spend lunch working on ideas for TheNicReport editorial meeting that was now less than two days away and knew if my sister spotted me she’d nag me to work on my lines instead. The performance was this weekend and tonight Mrs Saddler was making us do a full run-through. Mrs Saddler was a monster.

  I’d had my phone off most of yesterday to help me focus on properly learning the lines. Well, that and avoid the pics of everyone who had actually got to see the Chase concert (not sit semi-crying in a corridor ten metres away). No phone was also helping me deal with the deafening silence from my best friend. But I couldn’t blame Mich.

  Despite my pleas, after the disappointment of Agatha my sister had refused to go round to save what was left of the sleepover. Apparently Erin needed ‘time alone with her rocks to process that we might not be switching back anytime soon’. Even worse, my sister had then stuck to her promise to Mrs Saddler and gone into school on Sunday to do more work on the props with Singed Simon, meaning that, despite me yelling at her, then begging her, then physically clinging on to her ankles, she hadn’t gone to support Micha at her football tournament.

  Which is probably why I hadn’t had any replies to my messages to Micha since Saturday evening.

  I knocked gently. ‘You okay in there?’ The sniffing paused. ‘It’s Erin…’

  Still felt weird saying that. But I heard a ruffle of tissue and a little cough.

  ‘Er…’ More loo roll being pulled off. ‘One sec.’

  Micha never liked to let people see when she was having a tough time. For her to be crying on her own in school, things must be rock bottom. And I hated that her best friend acting so weirdly was probably part of it.

  ‘No hurry.’ I didn’t know how to handle this. ‘Is it anything I can help with?’

  The door opened, a miserable-looking Micha behind it. Her big brown eyes were all blotchy. I couldn’t help it – I went right in for the hug.

  ‘Whatever it is –’ I held her hard – ‘I’m sure we can figure it out.’

  When I finally let her go, she mainly looked surprised that Erin, who she’d never seen express any emotion other than the time she’d shouted, ‘Don’t be so dim!’ at one of the chasers on The Chase, had just hugged her. Still, shock was better than sad.

  ‘Er, thanks.’ Micha dabbed at her eyes. ‘It’s nothing.’ Oh yes, the classic nothing that makes you spend break crying in the toilet. But even Micha couldn’t hold it in any more. ‘Just Mr Sharma went off on one at me.’ Her words spilled out. ‘I thought I’d done okay with the homework, but apparently I’d missed a whole section.’ Her voice shook. ‘So he’s written a letter to tell my parents that if I don’t get above seventy-five per cent in the test and assignment on Saturday that’s it. I’m going down a set.’ Her face tightened as she tried not to cry all over again. ‘They’re going to freak, I know it.’

  I couldn’t help it. I gave her another hug. But where was my sister? Micha needed her best friend and they’d just had double chemistry together, so where was she?

  ‘I’m sure they won’t.’ I lied. ‘And I’m sure you can get seventy-five per cent!’ I really wasn’t –
Mr Sharma’s tests were notoriously hard. Maybe I should change the subject. ‘How did the tournament go anyway?’

  Micha gave me the saddest smile. ‘Well, this morning our coach told me I’d got selected for the youth team…’

  Wow!

  ‘Congrats, Micha. That’s huge.’ Someone needed to remind her how amazing this was.

  ‘Yeah, if it wasn’t just in time for my parents to stop me playing.’ Uh-oh. Was she about to cry again?!

  ‘They might not stop you.’ There was a 0.000000001 per cent chance, but still a chance. ‘We just need to figure out how to get you through this test. I know you can do it.’

  And Micha actually smiled. A small one, but it was so much better than tears. The only problem was it was because she thought she was talking to the clever sister, not to me. I was going to have to figure something major out. And fast.

  ‘Although…’ Please don’t let this backfire. ‘Have you seen my sister?’ Micha’s smile instantly disappeared. All I got was a shrug. Not good. ‘Wasn’t she in chemistry with you?’

  Another shrug.

  My whole body tightened with panic. Was Micha starting to give up on me? I couldn’t let that happen!

  ‘Y’know Lily was really sad yesterday…’ Could Mich hear my voice wobbling in a very un-Erin like way? ‘Missing you play. Apparently she was watching the whole thing on her phone.’ Was I imagining it or did it look as if another tear was about to drip from Micha’s eye? She headed to the sinks. ‘And over dinner she said something about helping you study any second she’s not in rehearsals…’ I didn’t care what Erin would want in return – for me to go on dates with Ben, take over the washing and drying, even swatting up for Les Quizerables – I would do it.

  Micha splashed water on her face. ‘If she even has rehearsals.’ Did she roll her eyes? What did she mean?

  ‘Er, she definitely does…’ But I never got a response, as Lou’s head popped round the door.

  ‘Oh, Erin. Thank. Goodness.’ She was out of breath. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Frankie’s on the war path.’ My stomach dropped so hard I was surprised I didn’t topple over. ‘She wants to speak to you or your sister to –’ Lou put on an extra-stern face – ‘get “the full truth”.’ Lou paused. ‘XOXO.’