Airhead

I ignored her. ‘Who does Christopher eat lunch with now?’ I asked her. ‘I mean, now that I’m dead?’ Not McKayla Donofrio. Please don’t say McKayla Donofrio…

‘I don’t know,’ Frida said grumpily. ‘I never see him in the caff any more. Someone said he’s been eating in the computer lab. You know he works there as a Teaching Assistant—’

‘Thanks,’ I said, and started to hurry off to find Christopher — but not before I heard Frida shout after me, ‘You better come eat with me, Em — I mean, Nikki! I already told everybody you were going to! Don’t you dare stand me up!’

But I didn’t have time to worry about my sister’s reputation amongst the junior-varsity cheerleading crowd. I only had forty minutes before lunch was over and I had to get to my next class. I raced down the hall towards the computer lab (fortunately not ru

And there he was, exactly where Frida had said he might be, in the empty computer lab, eating a sandwich in the glow of a solitary game of… Madden NFL?

But Christopher never played sports-related video games. Christopher hated sports. What was going on here?

Still, I really don’t think I’d be exaggerating if I said that, though he was doing something extremely bizarre (based on his old patterns of behaviour anyway), Christopher looked adorable with his short blond hair totally rumpled. He clearly hadn’t bothered combing it, instead having let it air-dry after his shower on his way to school. The collar of his green polo shirt was slightly askew in the back, and bits of sandwich crumb had spilt down the front. He’d never been one for working out, so his biceps, 185 disappearing into his short sleeves, weren’t ridiculously huge-looking, like Jason Klein’s. But they weren’t nonexistent either.

‘Um,’ I said, since he was so involved in the game he didn’t notice me standing in the doorway. ‘Excuse me?’

He glanced over and nearly choked on the mouthful of soda he’d swigged. Then he couldn’t say anything at all, because he was too busy coughing.

‘Sorry,’ I said. Whoa. I probably should have rehearsed this a little better. What was Nikki doing in a computer lab anyway? What was my excuse for seeking Christopher out going to be? ‘I just… I was wondering —’

‘The Administration Office is down the hall,’ Christopher said, having recovered himself.

Then, to my utter astonishment, he turned around in his chair and returned to his game. Of Madden NFL.

Oh yes. Christopher Maloney had just blown me off. For a video game.

And not even a good video game. And he hadn’t even blown off me either, but Nikki Howard. He’d just blown off the hottest teen supermodel on the planet.

What was wrong with him? I know he liked Nikki Howard. I’d seen for myself how he’d stared at her that day at the grand opening at Stark’s. What was going on here?

And why hadn’t I figured out before what I was going to say to him? Why did talking to people have to be so hard? This would have so much easier if I could have just IMed him.

Wait… email…

‘I know this isn’t the Administration Office,’ I said quickly. ‘They said in the Administration Office that I could sign up for a student email account here.’

This wasn’t even a lie. That was the most glorious part of all.

‘Oh,’ Christopher said. He looked away from his computer screen reluctantly. ‘Sure. Yeah. I can set you up with one, if you want.’

‘You can?’ I rushed over and sank down into the computer chair beside his. ‘Wow, that would be so great. Thanks.’

I smiled at him.

And he completely ignored me.

It’s true I’d only been Nikki Howard for a couple of days in the outside world. But I had already learned in that short time what Nikki’s smile did to people. Especially guys. It rendered them completely helpless. Guys turned to total Jell-O when Nikki smiled. They would do anything — anything — Nikki wanted when she smiled. There was only one guy who had seemed immune to Nikki’s smile, and that had been Brandon Stark’s father.

And now the only guy in the world who I actually cared about impressing — Christopher Maloney — was immune too. He wouldn’t even look me in the face. He kept his gaze firmly on the computer screen in front of me as he drew up the school’s email database.

How was I going to get through to Christopher — as a person, not as Nikki Howard — if I couldn’t even get him to look me in the eye and see that there was someone in here, behind the mascara?

‘So,’ I began, feeling desperate. ‘You like… computer games?’

Oh my God, could I sound more lame? If I’d been in the computer lab (I mean, as Em Watts) listening to this conversation between Nikki Howard and Christopher, I’d be laughing my butt off round about now.

‘Some of them,’ Christopher said, tapping away at his keyboard.

‘Me too,’ I said. ‘Have you ever played Journeyquest?’

That got his attention. Finally. He turned his stu

‘Sure,’ I said, my heart giving a happy double thump, despite the fact that I probably should have been insulted. I mean, what was so weird about Nikki Howard liking Journeyquest? What, she was too stupid to play a tactic-based RPG?

Oh, who even cared? He’d looked at me! He’d looked me in the eye! It wouldn’t be long now until we were friends again! He’d ask me over and soon we’d be eating Doritos and watching surgery shows and getting yelled at by the Commander, just like old times. Everything would be normal again. Everything would be just like it used to be. I was so happy!

Happier than I could remember being since I’d looked into that rear-view mirror and seen Nikki Howard’s face looking back at me.

‘Level forty-five is only as high as I’ve gotten though,’ I said.

Level forty-five, Christopher! It’s me, Christopher! Em! Look at me, Christopher! Look into my eyes! Do you see me? Hi, it’s me, Em! I’m looking right at you!

Christopher studied me a moment longer, and I could have sworn he saw me. I really thought he had.

But then he completely crushed me by looking away.

‘I don’t play that game any more,’ was all he said, and he went back to typing.

Wait. What? What just happened? What did he mean, he didn’t play Journeyquest any more? No one just stops playing Journeyquest. It’s not just a game. It’s a lifestyle.

And what about me? Me, Em? Had he seen me or not? He hadn’t. He couldn’t possibly, right?

Or he wouldn’t have looked away.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘So your new email address is going to be Nikki dot Howard at TAHS dot EDU. It should be effective right away.’

What was going on? Why was he just ignoring me like this? Guys don’t just ignore Nikki Howard. Em Watts, yes.

But even gay guys ask Nikki what kind of moisturizer she uses (not that I know the answer).

‘OK,’ I said, not knowing what else to say. ‘Thanks.’

OK. Christopher didn’t want to talk to me. I mean, Nikki Howard. I could take a hint.

No. No, actually, I really couldn’t.

‘You know how to set up your student email account at home?’ Christopher asked me. ‘Right?’

I knew how to set up my own email account. I’d been setting up my own email accounts since I’d gotten my first one in the fifth grade.

My mom, the women’s studies professor, had always urged Frida and me never to act dumb just to try to win over a guy.

But this was one case, I felt, where she’d have understood.

Because suddenly I realized I had an excuse to talk to Christopher again tomorrow. And I really, really needed one. Because it didn’t look as if he was going to be asking me over for Doritos and surgery shows any time soon.

‘I really don’t know how to do that setting-up thingy,’ I said. I was practically batting my eyelashes, I was hamming up the defenseless-female thing so much. My mom would have had a coronary.