Airhead

The ensemble actually turned out to be surprisingly comfortable. I mean, for something that wasn’t a T-shirt and jeans.

And after I’d brushed my teeth and washed my face and run a brush through my hair (careful of my still-tender surgery scar), I noticed in the mirror that… I actually looked kind of good.

Who knew you could look good and actually FEEL good at the same time? I mean, obviously you always feel good in sweats. But hardly anyone LOOKS good in them (at least, according to Frida). Not that I have ever let that stop me from wearing them to school, except on the occasions Frida spotted me and made me turn around and change into something else.

But when she didn’t, the Walking Dead would often stop and stare at me, because I so didn’t match their uniform of pressed khakis and collared shirt… never a drawstring at the waist!

Maybe that had something to do with why, when I got out of the cab and started heading up the steps for the main office, every single person loitering in front of the school stopped what they were doing and simply… stared at me.

Then I heard the whispered words Nikki Howard and remembered that it wasn’t me, Em Watts, they were staring at, or the fact that I was wearing a non-standard-issue Walking Dead uniform, but the fact that I was actually wearing a celebrity’s body.

Oh, yeah. That’s right.

A second later, I saw one of them detach itself from the nest and slink over. It took a second for me to register that it was my sister, Frida. That’s how much she’d been assimilated to resemble all the others.

‘Uh, Nikki?’ she said, pretending like she didn’t know it was actually me.

I stopped in my tracks and stared at her. That’s because she was wearing a red and gold TAHS cheerleading uniform.

And looked totally adorable in it.

‘Did you change into that when you got here?’ I blurted. It was the first thing that popped into my head. Fortunately, we were far enough from everyone that there was no way anyone could overhear us. ‘Because Mom would never have let you out of the house in that. Does she even know you made the squad?’

‘I changed when I got here,’ Frida said impatiently. ‘And no. And you’re supposed to act like you don’t know me.’

‘I don’t know you,’ I said, taking in the short pleated skirt. ‘But… it looks… it looks… ’

‘Don’t even say it, Em,’ Frida said, her eyes narrowing.

‘… cute.’

Frida’s jaw sagged. ‘Wait… did you just say what I think you said?’

‘I think Nikki is catching or something,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I’m starting to like all kinds of things I used to hate.’

‘Like Brandon Stark?’ Frida wanted to know. ‘Because there was a picture of you on TMZ this morning, being carried out of Cave last night by him. Also one that showed you with your legs spread apart as you fell into the limo, and you could see your—’

My blood went cold. ‘Mom didn’t see it, did she?’

‘Like she checks PerezHilton first thing in the morning. She’s too busy trying to call you. Are you ever going to answer that cellphone she gave you? All I can say is, good thing you were wearing panties. Oh my God,’ Frida said to me under her breath. ‘Don’t look now, but, like, everyone is checking you out. They’re all staring — I said, DON’T LOOK. But they’re all looking. They’re — hey. Where did you get those necklaces?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘They’re Nikki’s. I think they’re from her Stark clothing line. I can get you some, I think—’

That’d be awesome. Just look at them,’ she said with relish, glancing back at Whitney and the other dead-eyed wa

‘Yeah, well,’ I said, brushing by Frida to head into the school, so I could get to the Administration Office. ‘Welcome to Nikki Howard’s world, Frida. Good to know someone appreciates it.’

As I slipped through the doors, I glanced over my shoulder and saw about thirty people rush up to Frida, all clamouring to know what she and I had talked about. Frida played it cool, shrugging and playing with her hair.

But it was clear she was in heaven.

Too bad that for her to get that way, I was going to have to go through hell.

They assigned me my old locker.

I should have known that they would of course. It’s not like anyone else had dropped out mid-semester. And even if someone had, I’m sure there’s a waiting list to get into TAHS, which, in spite of its high population of Walking Dead (or perhaps because of?), is considered a very good school.

I was pretty sure, in fact, that Stark Enterprises had paid a hefty ‘endowment’ in order to get me to the top of that waiting list.

So it wasn’t any wonder that I ended up with my old locker… and in many — though not all — of my old classes.

There was apparently some concern that Nikki Howard wouldn’t be able to keep up in the AP courses Em Watts had originally been enrolled in… especially in light of her alleged ‘amnesia’. I had to do some fasttalking back in the Admin Office, but did manage to get Nikki Howard enrolled in AP English, bio and trig (I assured them that if I couldn’t keep up with any of my classes, I’d drop out of them).

Of course, having missed a month’s worth of school, there was a very good likelihood I actually wouldn’t be able to catch up… but I was willing to try, if it meant I could be in some classes, at least, with Christopher. How else was I going to strike up a friendship with him otherwise?

It was weird pretending like I didn’t know my combination so my student guide, this freshman I’d never met before, wouldn’t think I had ESP or something.

The freshman, Molly Hung, was totally freaking out over the fact that she was showing Nikki Howard around her school. She was really shy, and I saw her fingers shaking as she showed me how to spin the combination lock. After she’d let me try the combo myself a few times, to get used to it — and after I’d pulled the locker open and seen, to my dismay, that all my stuff was gone (although of course I should have expected that) she finally worked up the courage to ask a question.

‘Do you really go out with Brandon Stark?’ she wanted to know. ‘Because I saw a picture of you with him once… ’

‘Uh,’ I said. ‘Yeah. I mean, we’re kind of keeping it casual. I had, um, an accident, and I—’

‘Oh!’ Molly flung a hand up over her mouth and looked horrified. ‘Right! I forgot! You can’t remember. I’m so sorry! Really. God, I’m so stupid.’

‘It’s OK,’ I told her. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

But she went around looking like she wanted to kill herself anyway.

She walked me to my first-period class — I’d been lucky enough (sarcasm) to get back into Public Speaking — and, at the door, she said, ‘Um… I know how hard it must be, starting at a new school, where you don’t know anyone. So if you want to sit with me at lunch, that — that would be cool with me.’

‘Uh,’ I said. I hadn’t even thought about the crucial lunch-seating situation. Who would I be sitting with anyway? I had just assumed I’d sit with Frida, but I realized now that would be absurd. Why would Nikki Howard sit with some girl with whom she’d had a casual conversation on the steps in front of the school? The truth was, Nikki Howard would probably go out to lunch anyway.

Oh, who was I kidding? Nikki Howard would never have been in a regular high school in the first place. Except as some stunt for a reality show.

‘Thanks,’ I said to Molly. ‘If I have lunch in the caff, I’ll try to look for you.’

‘Well, have a good class,’ Molly said, blushing with pleasure. ‘And if you need me, here’s my cell. Call me for anything. ANYTHING. OK?’