I’ve lived in Manhattan my whole life.

 

I’ve eaten dim sum in Chinatown and brick-oven pizza in Little Italy. I’ve been to the top of the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty too. I’ve traced my ancestors back to their entry into this country (from England on my dad’s side; Hungary on my mom’s) via Ellis Island, and I’ve spent hours getting lost in the Strand, the world’s biggest used-book store.

 

I’ve had breakfast at Tiffany’s (well, a bagel outside it on a field trip to the Museum of Modern Art) and seen the Vermeers in the Frick (hard to believe he painted them without the help of a computer).

 

I’ve ridden the subway to Coney Island, used the paddle boats in Central Park and skated (though not well) at Rockefeller Center. I’ve even been to the World Trade Center, back when it was still the World Trade Center and not Ground Zero.

 

But I’ve never, ever cruised down Fourth Avenue on the back of a cute guy’s motor scooter before.

 

And I have to say, it’s the way to travel. It completely beats my other primary modes of transportation – the subway and walking – hands down. Even though the wind was really cold and made my eyes water – and Cosabella didn’t seem too thrilled about being wedged between my belly and Gabriel’s back – it was super fun darting in and out of traffic, dodging bicycle messengers and almost running a red light . . .

 

. . . and best of all, feeling the warmth from Gabriel’s back coming through the leather of his jacket, and seeing him smile every time he looked back to make sure I was OK.

 

And even though he was smiling at Nikki Howard and not at me, I had to admit . . . I could have ridden on the back of Gabriel Luna’s Vespa all day. For the first time since I’d woken up in the hospital, I actually felt . . . good.

 

Not good about the fact that someone had apparently stuck my brain in Nikki Howard’s body (so not).

 

But good about the fact that I was actually alive and got to experience cruising down Fourth Avenue on the back of a cute guy’s Vespa.

 

And that made me realize how very, very lucky I was. Whoever had done this – however it had happened . . . the fact that it had enabled me to experience something like that – well, I was grateful.

 

At least, about that part of it.

 

The part about all those schoolgirls wanting my autograph because they thought I was Nikki Howard?

 

Not so much.

 

Unfortunately, we reached the hospital all too soon. Twenty blocks is a long way if you’re walking, but it isn’t long enough if you’re flying down the street on the back of a cute guy’s pale green Vespa. Just fifteen minutes or so later, we were pulling in to the underground parking garage beneath Manhattan General.

 

And I started feeling nervous about the kind of reception I was going to get inside. I mean, it was true I had been kidnapped. But I could have gotten away a lot sooner than I had. The truth was, I had kind of been mad at my family for not telling me about the whole Nikki Howard thing. What exactly had they been thinking?

 

So I’d sort of put off going back until I absolutely had to.

 

Now I had the feeling, based on what Gabriel said, I might be in trouble when I got there.

 

So when Gabriel pushed the button to get a parking slip, I said, ‘Seriously you don’t have to come up with me, you can just drop me off.’ Because I didn’t want him to witness the screaming I expected to ensue. I mean, even though I’m crushing on Christopher, not Gabriel Luna, it’s still embarrassing to have a cute guy see your parents flip out on you.

 

‘After what happened outside your flat?’ he asked. ‘Not a chance. I’m going to make sure you get delivered safely.’

 

I felt myself flushing. ‘What happened back there,’ I couldn’t keep myself from saying, ‘what you saw, with Justin – that wasn’t – he just showed up this morning. I didn’t—’

 

‘I meant with the schoolgirls,’ Gabriel said.

 

‘Oh,’ I said. I was glad the helmet hid my blush. Still. I couldn’t let it go. ‘He isn’t . . . he isn’t my boyfriend or anything.’

 

‘Isn’t he?’

 

I realized I’d just made what he’d seen on Center Street look infinitely worse.

 

‘No,’ I tried to explain. ‘He’s my room-mate’s boyfriend. I think he . . . got the wrong message.’

 

‘I’d say so,’ Gabriel said.

 

Oh. God. Obviously, I just needed to keep my mouth shut.

 

But I couldn’t seem to do so. As we pulled into a parking space, and Gabriel switched the Vespa’s engine off, I asked, ‘How did you know? When no one could find me at the hospital. To go looking for me at Nik – I mean, my apartment building?’

 

‘Just a guess,’ Gabriel said, taking his helmet, which I’d carefully peeled off, from me. ‘A lucky one, as it happens. I suppose I don’t blame you for sneaking out, seeing as how they won’t let you have any visitors. But you really frightened them, you know, running off like that – your parents, I mean. Or I suppose that’s who they are – I haven’t actually met them, but I saw them when I stopped by your floor this morning, before they threw me out. Your mum was crying.’

 

I chewed my lower lip. Even though I don’t like like him, I didn’t want him to think I was the kind of girl who would run off from a hospital and make my ‘mum’ cry, any more than I wanted him to think I was the kind of girl who’d stay out all night with a cheeseball like Justin Bay . . .

 

I wanted to tell him the truth. About what had happened to me, I mean. I felt like he’d really understand. Anyone who could sing like that – well, he’d have to understand, wouldn’t he?

 

But I couldn’t tell him. Because obviously, if they hadn’t even told me, and I wasn’t supposed to be receiving visitors except my immediate family, and they kept kicking people off my floor, this whole thing was supposed to be a secret. I didn’t know why – but I was going to get to the bottom of it.

 

Today.

 

‘It . . . ’ It was so weird, the two of us, having this moment – if that’s even what it was, here in this parking garage . . . the same one where, just last night, I’d kicked and bitten Brandon Stark as he’d stuffed me into a limo. ‘It’s really nice of you to be so concerned about me,’ I said. ‘I mean, considering the fact that we hardly know each other.’

 

‘Well,’ Gabriel said. ‘After what happened that day at Stark’s, I feel as if I know you, at least a little. You gave us all quite a scare. You really . . . you ought to take better care of yourself, Nikki.’

 

I blinked at him in confusion. What was he talking about? ‘I – what?’

 

Gabriel seemed to hesitate, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to say what he did next. But then he reached out and took one of my hands and said, looking down at me with that intently blue gaze, ‘It’s just that you’re so lovely . . . and so sweet. You shouldn’t throw your life away on drugs and alcohol.’

 

I think my eyes almost popped out of my head. ‘What?’ I croaked again, this time in disbelief.

 

‘I know your publicist is saying you were hospitalized for hypoglycaemia and . . . what was it? Oh, right. Exhaustion,’ he went on. ‘But I was there that day, remember, Nikki? And I honestly didn’t think you were going to make it. You just lay there, so completely still. I thought you were dead.’

 

I don’t think I could have spoken if I’d tried. He thought Nikki Howard had spent the past month in the hospital because she’d been in rehab? Was that what everyone thought? Oh my God! I was so embarrassed! I could feel my cheeks burning with shame . . .

 

On the other hand, what did I care what he thought about Nikki Howard? It didn’t have anything to do with me . . .

 

Oh, wait. I guess it did.

 

‘But I’m not—’ I started to say.

 

But Gabriel just shook his head.

 

‘You don’t have to make up excuses for me, Nikki,’ he said, his voice as gentle as his fingertips. ‘I know how hard it is, living in the spotlight, having to listen to the gossip. And I’m glad you’re getting the help you need now—’

 

‘But—’

 

‘Everything’s going to be all right now,’ he said as he led the way to the elevators. ‘I’m really pleased you decided to come back to the hospital. Your parents will be happy to see you.’ He gave me a wry grin. ‘Maybe they’ll forgive me now for sneaking on to your floor the other night when I wasn’t supposed to.’

 

‘Um.’ Cosy and I joined him in the elevator car as it arrived. I was feeling more dazed than ever. ‘Yeah. About that—’

 

‘Admitting you have a problem is the first step towards conquering it, you know, Nikki,’ Gabriel said, smiling down at me. I smiled back up at him because I couldn’t help it.

 

But smiling at him turned out to be a mistake. Nikki Howard’s smile was like kryptonite to guys, or something. It seemed to completely immobilize them. Gabriel seemed to totally forget where we were. The elevator doors closed, and then we just stood there for almost a whole minute, with Gabriel staring at me.

 

Hello. Awkward.

 

‘Uh,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what floor we’re going to.’

 

‘Oh.’ Gabriel gave a start, then dropped my hand and hit the button for the fourth floor. ‘Sorry.’

 

Before I had a chance to think of anything to say – such as, I am not now, nor have I ever, been on drugs – however, the elevator doors slid open to reveal a burly security guard, who said, ‘Sorry, folks. Access to this floor is . . . ’ Then his eyes widened when he got a closer look at me. ‘You!’ he cried.

 

‘Um, yeah,’ I said. My cheeks were still on fire. Drugs! Alcohol! Really. Did I ask for any of this? Are my mom and dad around?’

 

And the next thing I knew, Mom and Dad were all over me with their Where have you beens and their We were worried sicks, hugging me and berating me at the same time. It really was just as embarrassing as I’d anticipated. Dr Holcombe was hovering around too, nervously chewing on the end of his glasses while holding a clipboard. Dr Higgins – the female doctor, who’d been wearing her hair in a bun – was beside him. Only her hair wasn’t in a bun any more. It was hanging all over the place, looking straggly, like she hadn’t had a chance to fix it up, given the whole part where I’d disappeared and everyone was freaking out about where I was, apparently.

 

Which was going to be hard to explain, since I didn’t want to rat out Lulu and Brandon, as they’d genuinely thought they were doing the right thing.

 

On the other hand, I did have to answer my parents’ questions.

 

But Gabriel Luna solved the whole problem for me by cutting everyone off and saying, ‘I found her at her flat.’

 

Which was when Dr Holcombe slid his glasses back into place and asked, ‘Excuse me, but who is this young man?’

 

It was right then that Frida came around the corner, her head down and her shoulders slumped dejectedly. When she heard Dr Holcombe’s voice, she looked up, saw me and broke out into a huge smile . . .

 

. . . until her gaze fell on Gabriel. Then the smile vanished and she gasped. ‘Gabriel Luna!’ she cried.

 

‘That’s Gabriel Luna?’ Dad whispered to Mom in a perfectly audible voice. ‘He’s the one who was here asking for Nikki Howard a little while ago.’

 

‘That’s the boy I saw beside her bed,’ Dr Higgins said, pointing at Gabriel. ‘He’s the one who brought her the roses!’

 

The glance Frida threw at me could have frozen coffee. ‘He brought you roses?’

 

‘He brought Nikki Howard roses,’ I corrected her. Because I could see all too clearly where this was heading.

 

‘Wait . . . Gabriel Luna from the Megastore grand opening?’ Mom asked.

 

‘Yes,’ Gabriel said, extending his right hand towards my parents. ‘Hello. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier, but you were busy having me thrown out. It’s very nice to meet you.’

 

Mom, looking like she was in a daze, shook Gabriel’s hand and murmured, ‘Nice to meet you too,’ while Dad, as soon as she was done, stuck out his own hand and, shaking Gabriel’s, said, ‘Where have you been with my daughter?’

 

‘Gabriel brought me back here,’ I explained, rushing to Gabriel’s defence. ‘It’s a long story, but I didn’t exactly leave on my own and . . . well, he sort of rescued me.’

 

Gabriel flashed me a smile of thanks for this. Which I returned. In spite of the fact that he apparently thought Nikki Howard was a drug addict, I figured he deserved some credit anyway.

 

‘Well,’ Dr Holcombe said, in a voice that was a little fake in its heartiness ‘in that case, we have much to thank you for then, Mr, er, Luna.’

 

‘It’s nothing,’ Gabriel said. ‘Really. But I have to say, I think—’

 

Dr Holcombe wasn’t interested in hearing what Gabriel thought, however.

 

‘Frida,’ he said, cutting Gabriel off, ‘why don’t you show Mr Luna to the cafeteria and get yourselves a bite to eat while your sister and parents and I have a little talk. All right?’

 

Before Gabriel could say anything, Frida went from staring daggers at me to staring lovingly up at him, her pupils practically going heart-shaped, like a cartoon character’s.

 

‘Sure,’ she said in a breathy voice I’d never heard before and, taking hold of Gabriel’s arm, she cooed, ‘Here, follow me. I’ll show you the way.’

 

Which of course made me actually want to slug her, for acting so dopey. Why does my sister always have to act like such – I’m sorry to say it, but it’s true – a girl sometimes?

 

Although, now that I know what it actually feels like to get kissed, I guess I couldn’t really blame her.

 

‘Uh,’ Gabriel said, looking back at me as Frida led him towards the elevator we’d just stepped out of, ‘all right then, I guess, uh, I’ll see you later . . . ’

 

‘Bye,’ I started to say, waving.

 

But before I could utter a word more, Frida had dragged him around the corner and he was gone. For all I knew, forever.

 

But I had more important things to deal with just then than my sister’s completely inappropriate crush on a British singer-songwriter. And that included my mother, who was looking down at my half-open jacket and going, ‘Oh my God. Is there a dog in your coat?’

 

‘It’s Nikki Howard’s dog,’ I explained.

 

‘How in God’s name,’ Dad wanted to know, ‘did you end up with Nikki Howard’s dog?’

 

‘Well,’ I said, ‘it all started when I woke up and found that somebody had put my brain in Nikki Howard’s body.’

 

Dr Holcombe, looking very uncomfortable, opened a nearby office door, and gestured for us to follow him, saying, ‘Please. Come in. Sit. We need to talk.’

 

‘Oh yes,’ I said, following him with my head – or should I say Nikki Howard’s head – held high. ‘We do.’