Switched at Birthday

  “So?”

  She stared at the side of my face and gasped. “The hair! You didn’t pluck it!”

  “I didn’t what?”

  “My mole hair! You went out in public, in my body, with a hair sticking out like that?” She grabbed at my face. I remembered the little blond hair sticking out of the mole on her jaw. Apparently she was going to rip it out with her bare hands. I backed off.

  “Hey, watch it!” I pushed her away.

  “You watch it!” She pushed back, and soon we were grabbing and clawing at each other like a couple of mud wrestlers.

  The first period bell rang. I freed myself from her surprisingly strong grip, the little mole hair intact.

  “Now what do we do?” Scarlet asked.

  “I guess we’d better go to class,” I said.

  “But I want my body back!”

  “So do I!” The second bell rang. I didn’t know what to do.

  “What time do you have lunch today?” Scarlet asked.

  “Twelve-twenty-five,” I said. “You?”

  “Eleven-fifty,” she said. “So we can’t meet then.”

  “What about right after school?”

  “Yes — we’ll meet here as soon as classes are over,” Scarlet said. “But in the meantime, think. Don’t pay attention to your classes. Try to figure this out! And if you come up with any answers, find me right away.”

  “I will.”

  “And whatever you do, don’t tell anybody about this!” Scarlet said.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m not stupid.”

  I opened the bathroom door, then stopped. “Um, what class do I have?”

  “French,” Scarlet said. “What class do I have?”

  “Algebra,” I said.

  “There isn’t a quiz, is there?” Scarlet said.

  “Actually, there is,” I said.

  “Great,” Scarlet muttered. We quickly exchanged locker combinations and class schedules. Then we stormed out of the bathroom.

  Off to French class. This should be a treat, I thought. I took Spanish.

  I managed to fake my way through French, feigning a choking fit when Madame Geller called on me to read a dialogue with Charlie Scott. She sent me outside for a drink of water and I didn’t come back until class was almost over. When she asked if I was okay, I answered, “Oui, Madame.”

  Luckily she fell for it.

  In gym we played basketball. People kept passing the ball to me as if they thought I could do something with it. The first time someone threw me the ball, I dropped it. The next time, I threw the ball right back. The third time, everyone was shouting, “Shoot! Shoot the ball!” So I aimed at the basket and threw. The ball ended up in the bleachers.

  On to lunch. Always so delightful.

  “Scarlet, over here!”

  Zoe waved to me from across the cafeteria. I gulped and carried my lunch to her table. I’d been hoping to avoid this, but a girl’s got to eat.

  I sat down with Zoe, Kelsey, Marissa, and Saylor. “You looked a little shaky in gym this morning,” Zoe said to me. “I hope you’re not feeling off on game day.”

  “Game day?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “The big game?” Zoe said. “This afternoon? Against the Cheetahs?”

  Big game? Big game of what?

  I had a feeling she wasn’t talking about Bananagrams.

  Then I remembered the weird-looking shoes at the bottom of Scarlet’s gym locker. Right. Scarlet played soccer.

  I barely knew how to play. I could only hope my new body would take care of that for me, somehow. Scarlet’s legs would know what to do without me. Wasn’t there something called muscle memory?

  “Wish me luck,” I said.

  Kelsey laughed. “Luck? You’re the highest scorer on the team.”

  Uh-oh.

  I tried to joke my way out of it. “Ha ha. Not for long.”

  “Quit kidding around,” Zoe said. “This is a must-win game. The Cheetahs are undefeated. You have to be a superstar out there, Scar.”

  “We’re going to whup those Cheetahs!” Kelsey cheered.

  “The Cheetahs are toast!” Marissa said.

  “Go Bees!” Saylor cried. Our team was called the Killer Bees. I knew that much. That, and that our mascot wore a bumblebee costume and a beehive hairdo.

  Hand-stinging high fives all around.

  “Well, don’t forget,” I said. “We’re a team. Bees work together. I can’t do it alone. Hooray for teamwork!”

  Silence. My teamwork cheer fell flat.

  “Woo! Go Scarlet!” Zoe said.

  What would happen when they found out that an old lady with a sprained ankle could beat me at soccer? I had to find a way out of Scarlet’s body, fast.

  “Does anybody at this table know how to reverse a double-body metamorphosis?” I asked.

  “What?” Zoe said.

  “Never mind.” I sighed.

  It had been worth a shot.

  The last bell rang. Finally, this horrible day was over.

  Some of the low points:

  Walking down the hall on the way to Lavender’s Spanish class, I tripped over someone’s foot and fell splat on my face. My books went flying. I hauled myself up and started picking up my books, but Zach Griffith — who I always thought of as one of my friends — snatched up my Spanish textbook and dangled it over my head. I reached for it — in my real body I could have grabbed it, but Lavender’s body was too short. Zach laughed and tossed it to Adam Bender, who tossed it to Kieran Monahan, who’d had a crush on me since kindergarten and never would have teased me this way if he’d known it was me.

  The bell rang. I was late for Spanish. “Give me the book!” I shouted, jumping up and down helplessly on my stubby little Lavender legs. But Kieran just tossed the book back to Zach, and around and around they went.

  If only I could have said, “Kieran, it’s me, Scarlet! The girl you’ve liked since you were five! I’ll let you sit next to me in algebra if you’ll just give back my Spanish book!”

  But of course, if I’d said that, or anything like it, they would have only laughed harder.

  When they finally had mercy and dropped the book, I grabbed it and hurried into Spanish class. “Lavender, éstas tarde,” Señora Diaz said. I didn’t know what that meant, but she was frowning, so I tried to find a seat. I spotted an empty one in the back row but when I went to sit down this girl I hardly even know put a book on the desk and said, “This seat’s saved.” So I tried the only other seat left, at the end of the second row. I wasn’t dying to sit so close to the front, since I knew I was not going to understand anything that happened in class. But Señora Diaz was glowering at me more fiercely every second, so I took the second-row seat.

  Jenna Friedberg was sitting at the next desk. “That seat’s taken,” she hissed.

  “What do you mean? There’s no one here,” I whispered.

  “It’s taken,” she repeated.

  “I have to sit somewhere,” I said.

  “Sit somewhere else.”

  “Girls, let’s settle down,” Señora Diaz said in English, for which I was grateful.

  I stayed in the seat next to Jenna, but she kept flicking tiny spitballs at me every time Señora Diaz turned her back. They were sticky and wet and really gross. I lifted my notebook cover as a shield, which helped a little. By the end of Spanish class, my notebook was plastered with tiny white spitballs.

  In English class, Ms. Kantner asked Hallie Huff to pass out a story we were supposed to read. Hallie gave a copy to everyone in the class except for me. She walked right by me as if she didn’t see me. I held up one hand in front of my face to make sure I was visible. There I was, stubby fingers and all, perfectly see-able.

  “Hallie, you skipped me,” I said. She didn’t seem to hear me.

  “Hallie, can I have a copy?” I asked. She ignored me.

  “There’s an extra copy,” she told Ms. Kantner, and she went up to the front of the room and
put the story on the teacher’s desk. Of course there was an extra copy — she hadn’t given me one.

  “Thank you, Hallie,” Ms. Kantner said.

  I had to get up and walk to the front of the room. “I didn’t get one, Ms. Kantner.”

  “Oh. Why didn’t you say something to Hallie? Here you go, Lavender.” She gave me the last copy.

  I flashed Hallie an angry look as I walked back to my seat. She wrinkled her nose and looked away. Apparently I had become visible again.

  Finally, after my last class, I stormed through the halls in search of Lavender. I was sure she’d swanned around school like a princess all day. Like she thought my life was one happy fairy tale. Well, compared to hers, it was. And I wanted it back.

  “There you are!” Lavender stood in front of her locker — my locker — surrounded by boys — boys who had crushes on me — and Zoe and Kelsey. I grabbed her by the collar and tried to drag her into the bathroom where we could talk in private.

  “What’s your problem, Lav?” Kelsey said.

  “Leave Scarlet alone,” Zoe said. “Where are you taking her, your mother ship — Lav? Get it? The lavatory is her mother ship.”

  Zoe’s “Lav” jokes were starting to seem less and less funny to me. One of the boys — Kieran — brushed me away. “I’ll take care of this for you, Scarlet,” he said to Lavender.

  “Thanks,” Lavender said. As if she were me! Which she so totally was not! Then she had the nerve to look down her — my — nose at me! I would have punched her right then if I hadn’t been afraid of hurting my own face.

  My whole day had been this way. People being mean to me for no reason. Ignoring me. Picking on me. Shunning me. Making fun of me. It was horrible. How did Lavender live like this?

  The worst part was I could hardly blame people for being mean to me. I was on their side. I’d become such a klutz. Everything I did and said was embarrassing. I would have snubbed myself if I could.

  “Scarlet,” I said urgently. “We need to talk. About the audition tomorrow.”

  “Scarlet, come back,” Kelsey said. “Don’t waste your time with Dog-Breath.”

  An angry look flashed across Lavender’s face — she was pissed. Even if Kelsey was kind of insulting me, she was really insulting Lavender. And Lavender didn’t like it.

  “Let’s go outside,” Lavender said.

  We went out a side door and leaned against a brick wall.

  “How did you do this to me?” I demanded. “I want you to reverse this spell right now!”

  “How did I do it?” Lavender said. “I didn’t do anything. Maybe you did it.”

  “Why would I do something like this to myself?” I asked. “Now switch us back and I promise not to tell anyone about it.”

  “Scarlet, I don’t know how this happened,” Lavender said. “I swear. I don’t know how to switch us back.”

  I watched her face while she spoke, and I believed her. She didn’t seem like a liar. Maybe she’d have been better off if she were.

  We were in trouble.

  “We’ve got to figure out how to fix this,” I said. “Right away. Before I have to endure another moment as you. Do you know what I went through today?”

  “Poor you,” Lavender said. “Having to spend one whole day as me. Must be rough.”

  I guess I hadn’t been as nice as I could have been. “I’m sorry. But come on, don’t you want to go back to being yourself too?”

  Before Lavender had a chance to answer, Zoe and Kelsey burst through the door and interrupted us. “Scarlet, let’s go. You’ll be late for the game.”

  Lavender looked at me.

  “She’ll be there in a minute,” I said.

  Kelsey rolled her eyes and walked away.

  “Do I have to?” Lavender whined.

  “Today’s game is crucial,” I told her. “If we beat the Cheetahs, we’ll clinch a spot in the playoffs. Without me, they can’t win. With you as me … I don’t know. But I can’t let down the team.”

  “Scarlet, come on!” Zoe shouted.

  I looked down at my wide Lavender feet and stumpy Lavender legs. I’d been dropping things, spilling things, and bumbling around all day. Lavender’s body was not built for soccer, that’s all there was to it. And anyway, she wasn’t on the team. I couldn’t just insert myself into the game.

  “You’d better go,” I said. “We’ll try to fix our problem right after the game. But don’t mess up!” Lavender looked so uncertain that I added, “What do you know about soccer?”

  “I know you try to kick the ball into the goal,” Lavender said.

  “That’s it? That’s all you know?”

  She shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”

  She was going to ruin my life. “Look,” I said. “You’re a forward. On the right side. People will pass you the ball. You kick it into the goal. Try not to let the other team get it. Okay? That’s as simple as I can make it in the fifteen minutes we have before the game starts.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Lavender said. “Maybe your body will take over for me. I noticed it does that sometimes.”

  “I noticed that too. And it hasn’t been a good thing. Don’t botch it, Lavender. And whatever you do, don’t touch the ball with your hands. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And if it comes near your head —”

  “I know,” she said. “Duck.”

  “No! Don’t duck!” I smacked my face with my palm. “Head it! Bump the ball with your head.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously!” Ack!

  “Okay. I’ll hit the ball with my head,” Lavender said, but I could tell she wouldn’t.

  “I’ll come watch the game and see how you do. Is there anything else I should know while I’m trapped inside your body?”

  “There’s a lot of stuff. I can’t think of just one thing.”

  “All right. Go! You’re going to be late.” I pushed her toward the gym.

  “Should I wear those spiky shoes in your locker?” she asked.

  “Cleats,” I said. “Yes. Wear them. My uniform is on the top shelf.”

  This was going to be a disaster.

  It was weird watching myself play soccer. I sat in the stands with the crowd. There was my body (my good old body), out on the field in my black-and-yellow-striped uniform, Number 9. Lavender waved to me. Zoe said something to her. I could just imagine what. Probably “Why are you waving to that loser?”

  Lavender had no idea how to warm up, but she was smart enough to look at the other girls and copy them.

  Then the game started, and I wanted to die.

  Lavender didn’t know where to stand on the field. She was called off-sides on the first play. When the game finally started, she ran in the wrong direction.

  Watching the game felt like one of those nightmares where someone is chasing you and you’re trying to run away but you can’t make your legs move. From the stands, I concentrated on my body, trying to will it to play well by remote control. All I did was give myself a headache.

  Coach Kamen looked mystified. The crowd booed. Lavender kicked the ball out of bounds. She tripped over her feet when she dribbled the ball. When she tried to pass, the ball was intercepted by a girl on the other team, who quickly scored a goal. That happened three times.

  She reeked.

  We lost, 4–0. Coach Kamen pulled Lavender aside and stared into her eyes, looking for a sign of some problem. Was she sick? Losing her eyesight? Had she gone crazy? There was no other way to explain how a great player like me could suddenly be so lousy.

  Then Zoe and Kelsey set in on her like two yapping Chihuahuas whose tails had been stepped on. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they didn’t look happy. I didn’t mind missing the yelling. But then, if I’d played, we would have won, and they would have been carrying me off the field in triumph.

  I saw Ben in the stands with his friend Vartek. It made it much worse to know he’d seen what had just happened. And to t
hink that Lavender would soon be under my roof with him and the rest of my family.

  Ben tapped Lavender on the shoulder, probably getting ready to say something dark and cruel. She turned and stared at him as if she wasn’t quite sure who he was. I ran over and inserted myself between them.

  “Hi, Scarlet,” I said to Lavender. “Thanks for inviting me over to spend the night tonight.” Wink wink.

  “Who’s this gargoyle?” Ben asked, pointing at me.

  “This is my friend Lavender,” Lavender said. “And she’s not a gargoyle. She’s the cutest girl in the school.”

  Ben snorted. “Yeah, right. Well, she can’t come over tonight, Plastic P. The ’rents are having company, remember? And you’re supposed to help get ready.”

  The Mortensons. I’d forgotten they were coming over. Mom always made me pass out hors d’oeuvres and drinks at her parties. She called it hostess training.

  “What?” Lavender said. “I can’t do that.”

  “Well, you have to,” Ben said.

  “Um, Scarlet and I have something important to do first,” I said. “At my house.”

  We’d have to go to Lavender’s house instead. We’d never get anything done at my house if Mom was having a dinner party.

  “I don’t care what you do,” Ben said. “All I know is, the Mortensons are supposed to come over at seven thirty, and if you’re not there, the Boss Lady is going to lose it.”

  “Don’t worry, she’ll be there,” I said.

  Ben drove off, north toward our house. Lavender and I walked in the other direction. She lived in Hampden. We passed big fancy houses, then smaller, shabbier houses, then brick row houses. As we crossed Keswick Road, a bird pooped on my head. That pretty much summed up my day.

  “This is it.” Lavender turned onto West 34th Street, a funky block of row houses decorated with pumpkins and witches and ghosts for Halloween.

  I’d been in such a hurry to leave that morning I hadn’t realized where I was. “Hey,” I said. “Isn’t this the Christmas Street?”

  Lavender nodded. “We’re the Crab House.”

  Lavender’s block was famous. Every December all the neighbors decorated insanely for Christmas. Lights covered every inch of every house and yard. At night people lined up to see the spectacle, cars and people clogging the street as they slowed down to look. They showed it on the local news. It was a big deal. When I was little, my dad had taken me to see the Christmas Street every year. I hadn’t been back since he’d gone.