IT WOULD HAVE BEEN OBVIOUS TO anyone looking at me as I staggered into school Monday morning just before the late bell rang, a cup of tea clutched in one hand and my Marc Jacobs tote full of overdue assignments and my MacBook Air in the other, that I hadn’t had a good weekend. I know I looked particularly heinous. I’d tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep not just because Lulu Collins was hogging my Frette sheets and duvet, but because the guy I was hopelessly in love with? Yeah, well, he was in love, too. Only not with McKayla Donofrio, it turned out. He was in love with a dead girl.

 

Oh, and did I mention that he planned to obliterate the company I worked for? Yeah.

 

It wasn’t like I was all that enamored of Stark Enterprises. But I didn’t want to destroy it, necessarily. After all, I actually liked a few people who worked there.

 

Not that Christopher had been kind enough to share with me yesterday the details of what he and his cousin Felix intended to do once they’d gotten the information they needed. Why would he tell me? I was just some bubbleheaded model.

 

He hadn’t put it that way, of course. But it was clear he didn’t think I’d “understand” and that I was “better off not knowing.”

 

Of course, part of that was my own fault for pretending not to understand the simplest things about computers when I’d first “met” him.

 

But there hadn’t been any pretense in my reaction to his statement that he was going to take down Stark Enterprises. I couldn’t help myself. I’d been honestly horrified. I’d blurted out the first thing that sprang into my mind, and that was, “But…why?”

 

Christopher had just smiled in an enigmatic way and said, “I have my reasons.”

 

I hadn’t missed the way his gaze had flicked, just for an instant, toward my photo.

 

Great. Just great! It was perfectly obvious now what was going on. My death, as had the deaths of so many tragic heroines before me, had caused another one…the death of Christopher, only just on the inside. His heart had died, and created where fun, joyful Christopher used to be—the Christopher I had loved, the Christopher with whom I’d played so many rounds of Journeyquest, the Christopher whom I’d longed to notice me as not just a gal pal but as a girl—an evil supervillain.

 

Why had I been so surprised? It happened all the time in comic books. Christopher was now going to use his powers for evil instead of good to avenge my death. What other explanation could there be?

 

Just to be sure, I’d asked, “Well, is one of the reasons what happened to your friend who died at that Stark Megastore? Because I’m pretty sure that was the fault of the protester who shot that paintball at the plasma screen she was standing under.”

 

Christopher had looked at me without expression and said, “And who was responsible for making sure that plasma screen was secured well enough to the ceiling that an assault from a paintball attack wouldn’t cause it to come crashing down?”

 

“Well, Stark,” I’d said. “But—”

 

“Stark has to be held accountable for what it did.”

 

Oh, my God! I couldn’t believe how upsetting this was.

 

But also, in a way, how kind of hot it was. I mean, what girl wouldn’t want a guy to go on a wild computer-hacking rampage against a majorly environmentally irresponsible corporation, just for her? Especially one that was basically holding her in corporate slavery, and which had just the day before almost made her get eaten by sharks.

 

The only problem was, he wasn’t doing it for me. Well, I mean, he was, but he didn’t know it. Because he thought Em Watts was dead.

 

And now more than ever, I couldn’t tell him I wasn’t. Because it was obvious he’d completely lost it. Who knew what he’d do if he found out the truth? In seconds he might spill it all over the blogosphere, in order to get his “revenge” on Stark.

 

And where would that leave me? And my parents? In bankruptcy court, that’s where. Oh, sure, Stark would go down.

 

But so would the Watts family.

 

It was bad enough Christopher had been doing all this crazy virus programming and Stark probably knew it, given that they were bugging his place, and there I was, sitting in his apartment. I just couldn’t believe any of it was happening. Christopher, my sweet, funny best friend, Christopher, had turned into this dark, cynical crusader for global justice? Since when?

 

“Do you really think,” I’d said, trying to figure out how I was going to handle this, “that this is what your friend—Em, I think you said her name was—would want? I mean, what if you get caught? You could get house arrest, like your cousin. Or worse, actual jail time, if you’re tried as an adult.”

 

“I don’t care,” Christopher had said, shaking his head. “It’d be worth it.”

 

A chill had gone up my spine. It was obvious then that Christopher’s transformation was a hundred percent complete. All that was missing were his black cape and a jagged facial scar.

 

“You’d risk possible incarceration,” I’d asked in astonishment, “for a dead girl?”

 

His next words had rocked my world to its core:

 

“She was worth it,” he’d said simply.

 

If I could have picked up a knife and jammed it in Em Watts’s heart right then, I would have, too, I hated her so much at that moment. Never mind that Em Watts was me. I couldn’t look at her picture a second longer. I’d had to get out. I’d had to get out of Christopher’s lair slash bedroom. Especially because of the whole still-wanting-to-kiss-him thing.

 

And he so very definitely not wanting to kiss me. Because he was in love with a dead girl.

 

I don’t know what I did or said after that. Somehow I’d found myself in his front hallway, jamming my arms back into my coat and suiting Cosy back up into hers. It shames me to say I think there might have been some more of those unshed tears in my eyes…

 

But I don’t think he noticed. This time.

 

And, of course, now I had to decide…Did I give him what he wanted and risk the jobs of all the people I worked with on a pretty much daily basis (if what he and Felix had planned were to succeed, which, let’s face it…what were the chances? I loved Christopher, and I don’t think there’s anything he couldn’t do if he set his mind to it. But bring down a bazillion-dollar corporation like Stark with a computer virus, or whatever he was planning? Let’s get ever so slightly real)?

 

Or did I blow him off and try to find Steven’s mom some other way?

 

Plus, the whole thing about getting him to like me as I was now, in Nikki Howard’s body. Because when I was standing there in the hallway, trying not to let him see how freaked I was, he was definitely giving off a let’s-get-the-pretty-girl-out-of-here-now-since-she’s-not-coughing-up-the-info-we-need vibe.

 

Oh, he’d been polite enough. He’d given me that umbrella he’d promised and everything.

 

But he hadn’t exactly begged me to stick around or anything.

 

Was it any wonder I’d been up all night? And had done zero studying for finals?

 

As soon as I got to Tribeca Alternative, I wandered into the ground-floor ladies’ room, hoping to snatch a minute in the mirror before class to do some kind of repair work to my face prior to encountering Christopher in first-period Public Speaking. I had no idea what I was going to say to him, but I knew I’d feel more confident if I had some lip gloss on. The merits of lip gloss had long been praised by my sister but ignored by me, until professional makeup artists had started slathering it on me every day, and I saw the results in the mirror and the pages of the magazines Nikki’s face routinely graced. It could really boost a girl’s self-esteem, and anyone who thought otherwise had never tried Nars Triple X.

 

It was funny that as I was thinking this, my sister came barreling out of the ladies’ room and crashed right into me.

 

“Em—I mean, Nikki!” she cried, as hot tea sloshed out of the cardboard cup I was holding, and all over the floor beside us. “Oops! Oh, no, I’m so sorry!”

 

Her friends—Frida rarely traveled without a pack of fellow junior varsity cheerleaders around her—all stared at me owlishly. Even though I’d been going to Tribeca Alternative (in my current incarnation) for almost two months now, the student body still hadn’t gotten used to seeing me around the halls, and I was the recipient of a lot of gawking and even the occasional catcall, though I was probably among the more conservative dressers there. Belly, cleavage, and thong-baring ensembles weren’t tolerated by the administration, but that didn’t rule out the occasional “accidental” flash of tanned flesh from Whitney Robertson and her ilk. I, however, kept what I had going on strictly under wraps. Of course, it would be no secret after New Year’s, thanks to the Stark Angel fashion show.

 

“Hey,” I said to Frida. “Thanks.” I was being sarcastic about the tea, which had burned my hand. I wiped it on my Temperley top, which was fortunately dark blue and wouldn’t show the resulting stain.

 

“I’m so glad I bumped into you. We really need to talk,” Frida said, grabbing my arm and dragging me into the bathroom she’d just vacated. “You guys go on without me,” she called to her friends. “I gotta chat with Nik for a sec.”

 

Nik. Nice one. Her friends would be so impressed.

 

Fortunately, the ladies’ room was empty, as Frida quickly ascertained after a quick stall check.

 

“How could you run off like that yesterday?” she demanded, dropping my arm as well as the polite tone she’d adopted in the hallway in front of her friends. “Mom and I were so worried about you. And then you wouldn’t return any of our calls.”

 

I just blinked at her. This was too much for me to handle so early in the morning on basically zero sleep and no caffeine. Not that I ever got to have much caffeine, anyway, since I found out it’s forbidden on Nikki’s acid reflux diet (which she’d fortunately kept taped to the side of the refrigerator). One cup a day is all she could handle, I’d discovered, or it’s reflux city.

 

“I was having a really bad day,” I said. This wasn’t a very good explanation, I knew. But it was all I had.

 

“And you left that big bag of presents for us!” Frida went on. “Just left it, without saying anything!”

 

“Those were for you guys to open when we all got to Grandma’s,” I said. I didn’t want to think about the fun present fests we used to have down in Florida, the free-for-all of gift wrap and dreidels and chocolate Santas. I’d never experience any of that again, I knew.

 

“I know,” Frida said. “That was so nice of you…”

 

I knew she’d already shaken the distinctively wrapped, robin’s egg blue box I’d gotten her, and had figured out by now it contained exactly what she’d always wanted…something all her friends here at Tribeca Alternative had but that our parents could never afford to get her…a pair of diamond stud earrings.

 

“Look,” I said uncomfortably. I didn’t like thinking about how she was going to be opening that box down in Florida, without me being there to see her expression when she did. “I have to go. The bell’s going to ring, and I haven’t even been to my locker yet.”

 

“No,” Frida said, reaching to grab my wrist again. But this time not the one holding the tea. “Nikki, Mom and Dad and I talked. That’s why we kept calling you. Mom didn’t think you’d be so upset about not going to Grandma’s. She thought you’d be going somewhere fabulous like Paris or wherever and wouldn’t care—”

 

“I really have to get going,” I said. I didn’t want to hear this. She was going to say they’d decided to have some kind of lame Christmas-Hanukkah party here in the city for me before they leave, with a gift exchange and hot cider and a viewing of A Christmas Story or something.

 

But it wasn’t going to be the same without Grandma and the beach and her stupid frozen bagels. Which I couldn’t eat, anyway, in this dumb body.

 

“—but now that we know you’re going to be around, we’re going to change the whole thing,” Frida went on. “We’re skipping Florida this year. We’re going to stay here in the city, and Gran’s agreed to fly up! So you can come over. We can say you’re my friend from school—”

 

“Free,” I said. I did not want to hear this.

 

“Come on, Em. I know it won’t be the same, but it’ll be fun. Gran’s even excited about coming to the city in winter, and you know how hard it is to get her to come here when it’s cold—”

 

“Free!”

 

Frida jumped, but whether because of the bell or the fact that I’d shouted at her, I didn’t know. In any case, I’d gotten her attention.

 

“We’re going to be late to class. We’ll discuss it later, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Frida grumbled, looking hurt. “But geez, I thought you’d be happy. I mean, I agreed to give up going to cheerleading camp so I could stick around here in the city and be with you.”

 

Suddenly, I didn’t want my tea anymore, caffeine fix or not. I dumped the entire thing into a nearby trash can and made my way out of the ladies’ room.

 

“That doesn’t make me happy, Frida,” I hissed at her, from between gritted teeth, as she trotted along behind me. “I want you to do what you want, not what you think I want.”

 

“But I am doing what I want,” Frida said. “I really want to come to your party.”

 

I staggered to a halt and whirled around to face her, even as the last of the latecomers were running past us, trying to get to class before tardy slips were given out.

 

“Wait a minute.” I stared down at her. “Did you weasel out of going to Florida just so you could come to Lulu’s party?” It would totally be like her to have done this. Frida was so obsessed with glitz and glamour, she’d gnaw her own arm off in exchange for a chance to brush up with a celebrity…if it were the right one.

 

Frida’s blush revealed the truth before she could say a word. “No, not exactly,” she said.

 

I threw my hands into the air in exasperation and turned around again to head back to class. I was done.

 

“What?” Frida trailed after me. “I thought you’d be happy! I mean, you looked so sad yesterday! Now you’ll have Mom and Dad and me to hang out with—”

 

“You’re incredible,” I said. “You know, Frida, yesterday I went out of my way, slogging through terrible weather, not to mention risking getting Mom mad at me, to stick up for you, all because you were so adamant about going to that cheer camp. And as soon as you got a better invitation, you totally dropped it. What happened to your being such an integral part of the team? What happened to your being the base?”

 

Frida hurried along beside me, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. She was trying, I knew, to think of an excuse for her behavior. But there was nothing she could say, because there was no excuse.

 

“I know you think you’re doing me this big favor,” I said. “But you’re not actually doing it for me, are you? Because you’re the one who’s really getting something out of it. Well, I’ve got news for you, Free. There are some things that are more important than parties. Such as being there for your teammates. Did you ever think of how they’re going to feel when they find out you’ve ditched them so you can party with Nikki Howard and Lulu Collins?”

 

I’d reached the room where my Public Speaking class was held, and turned at the doorway to glare down at her. Frida’s eyes were filled with angry tears.

 

“I thought I was being there for my sister,” she said.

 

“Yeah,” I said. “Well, funny how you only remember you have a sister when you want something, like someone to side with you against your mother or give you diamond earrings or an invitation to a kick-ass loft party. Which you’re not invited to, by the way.”

 

I stormed past her just as Mr. Greer called, “Ms. Howard? Are you joining us today? Or are you going to stand out in the hallway, chatting?”

 

“Sorry,” I muttered. I sailed into the classroom and slid into my seat…

 

…which just happened to be in front of Christopher.

 

This was so not shaping up as my kind of day.