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  "What did that student teacher do? Did you get hypnotized?"

  "Yeah."

  "What was it like?"

  Jenna shrugged. "No big deal. She didn't make me quack like a duck or anything like that." She paused. She really wanted to tell someone what had happened. "Actually, it was kind of silly. All she wanted me to do was read another teacher's mind to find out if he wanted to date her."

  "You're kidding! That's all?"

  Jenna nodded. "I'll bet when she hypnotized Emily that she asked her if they have a future together." Amanda laughed. "And she probably told Charles

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  to push him in her direction."

  Jenna started to laugh, too, and then she remembered whom she was talking to. She cocked her head to one side and pretended to be noticing something for the first time that day.

  "You look different."

  Amanda nodded. "Yeah, I got a haircut. And I bought some clothes and makeup."

  Jenna sniffed. "Perfume, too. Must be nice having all that money to spend on stuff like that."

  "You think Tracey's parents ever give her money?" Amanda countered. "They barely know she's alive."

  Now Jenna was interested. "So what did you do-- take the money while you were invisible?"

  "No. I earned it. Baby-sitting for the clones. And these aren't exactly designer clothes. I got them at Target."

  "Oh."

  Amanda shifted her book bag to her other arm. "I have to go."

  "Wait, I have to ask you something. No, I mean, I have to tell you something."

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  "What?" Amanda asked.

  "Don't ever feel sorry for me."

  "I don't," Amanda replied.

  "You did on Friday, at my place. I read it."

  "Well, you read wrong. I never feel sorry for anyone." With that, Amanda sauntered off.

  Jenna stared after her. Did Amanda mean that? She tried to read her thoughts now, but the gift didn't kick in. So maybe it was Tracey whom she'd made a connection with.

  But that didn't feel right either. If Jenna were in Tracey's situation, the only person she'd feel sorry for would be herself.

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  Chapter Thirteen

  ARRIVING AT TRACEY'S home Amanda felt like she could have been in the Meadowbrook cafeteria. Chaos reigned.

  In the living room, one of the seven girls was lying on the rug, kicking and yelling. Another one was screaming. In the kitchen, one girl spilled her milk and started crying, while another snatched a cookie from her sibling's plate, and they started fighting. The mother's helper was nowhere in sight, and Tracey's mother looked to be on the verge of hysteria.

  "Stop it! All of you, stop it! Go upstairs--it's time for your nap." None of the septuplets paid any attention to her, just as Tracey's mother didn't pay any attention to the fact that "Tracey" had just walked in.

  Amanda moved into Mrs. Devon's line of vision and spoke loudly. "What's going on?"

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  "Lizzie left us!" the woman wailed. "I've called every agency in town, and there's no one available! What am I going to do?"

  Amanda surveyed the pandemonium. Having spent a lot of time with the septuplets over the weekend, she had a sense of each personality She focused on the one who was the bossiest of the group, and at the top of her lungs, she screamed, "Mandie!"

  The septuplet who was taking cookies by force from the others actually looked in her direction.

  "Help me," Amanda ordered her. "We have to get everyone upstairs. It's story time."

  Mandie turned to the sweet one, Randie. "C'mon, we're going upstairs."

  Randie was in the process of twisting Brandies hair into sloppy braids, so those two started out together. One by one, the others followed, until there was only one crying child left in the kitchen. Amanda grabbed Tandie's hand and half walked, half dragged her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Mrs. Devon brought up the end of the line.

  Once they were all gathered in the girls' huge bedroom, Amanda asked, "Whose turn is it to pick

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  the story?"

  "Me! Me! "Vandie cried out. She was the whiny one. Amanda shook her head.

  "Let me think ... Friday night was Brandie, Saturday afternoon it was Kandie's turn, Mandie chose the story on Saturday night ..."

  "I picked the story yesterday," Randie declared.

  "It's my turn! It's my turn!" Vandie shrieked.

  "No, I told you yesterday--we're going in alphabetical order. Sandie picks the story today. You come last."

  "That's not fair!" Vandie whined.

  "Tough," Amanda said. "Life isn't fair. Sandie, go and choose a story."

  As Sandie raced over to the bookcase, Amanda realized that Mrs. Devon was looking at her oddly.

  "Did you cut your hair?"

  "Yes," Amanda said shortly. "I had my hair cut on Saturday with the money you paid me for Friday night."

  "Saturday? I didn't notice it."

  "No," Amanda said. "You never do. Maybe you should take a look at me once in a while."

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  "Here's my story, Tracey," Sandie announced. The girls gathered in a semicircle, as Amanda had taught them over the weekend, and Amanda took her place in the center, facing them.

  As she started reading, from the corner of her eye Amanda could see Mrs. Devon standing there, still looking a little dazed, as if she'd stumbled into a strange new world. As Amanda read, the septuplets were quiet, and by the time she'd finished the story, they were yawning. With the help of Tracey's mother, she got them into bed for their naps.

  As they left the room together, Mrs. Devon continued to look at Amanda as though she'd never seen her before in her life. When the doorbell rang, she seemed relieved to have something else to do and hurried to open the door. Amanda was surprised to see Jenna there.

  "Um, is Aman--I mean, Tracey home?"

  "I'm here," Amanda said. She joined Mrs. Devon at the door. "Come on in."

  Tracey's mother seemed even more surprised than Amanda. "Tracey, who is this?"

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  "A friend of mine, Jenna Kelley," Amanda replied. "Come upstairs to my room, Jenna."

  As they headed to the stairs, she caught another glimpse of Mrs. Devon's bewildered expression. Amanda wasn't surprised--Tracey probably hadn't had a visitor since her eighth birthday.

  "What are you doing here?" Amanda asked as soon as they were inside Tracey's bedroom with the door closed. This was when she noticed that the other girl was carrying a bag.

  Jenna wouldn't meet her eyes. She looked past Amanda as she spoke. "I, uh, I need a place to stay. For a couple of nights. Can I stay here?"

  There were twin beds in Tracey's room. "Yeah, I suppose so. Why do you need a place to stay?"

  Jenna shifted her gaze to the other side of the room. "It's my mother ... She's got a bunch of friends there. It looks like she's about to have another one of her parties. Which means I won't get any sleep tonight."

  "Oh." Amanda looked at her curiously. "Has this ever happened before?"

  Jenna nodded. "Just last week, and the noise kept

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  me up all night. Sometimes I just go over to the train station and hang out with Slug and those guys. But this time--I don't know, I just don't feel like it."

  "They're probably in jail anyway for trying to shoplift from Target," Amanda said matter-of-factly. "You know what, Jenna? I don't think you even like those people. And I'll bet you've never stolen anything in your life."

  Jenna faced her indignantly. "What makes you think that?"

  "Because I don't think you're as bad as you pretend you are. And if you were stealing, you'd probably have more food in your house."

  Jenna's face went white. "Don't you feel sorry for me. Don't you dare feel sorry for me."

  "Don't worry--I don't and I won't," Amanda said with feeling. "I don't want your life any more than I want Tracey's."

  Jenna was taken aback. "Don't tell me you're thinking about snatching my body!
"

  Amanda got up and began pacing the room. "I don't make those decisions." Her need to confide, to talk to someone, was irresistible. And at least she

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  didn't care what Jenna thought about her. "It just happens when I feel really sorry for someone. That's how I got inside Tracey's body."

  "Yeah, I read that in your mind, and I still can't believe it," Jenna said. "You feel sorry for people?" Her brow furrowed. "You're still really Amanda Beeson, the meanest girl at school, right?"

  "That's why I'm the meanest girl!" Amanda cried out. "I can't let myself feel sorry for people because I could end up being them! Do you think I want to be Tracey Devon? Or you?"

  Jenna's mouth was still open. But the only word that came out was "Wow!"

  "Exactly," Amanda said. "See? I'm not the perfect princess you think I am."

  "I never thought you were perfect," Jenna muttered.

  "And you're not the gangster I thought you were," Amanda added.

  "I really was in reform school," Jenna argued. "Why were you sent there?"

  Jenna looked away again." I was hanging out with some creeps, and they were dealing drugs. The

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  cops raided the house where we were staying, and someone planted stuff in my pocket."

  Amanda nodded smugly. "I knew I was right about you. You're a big fake."

  "So are you," Jenna pointed out.

  Amanda shrugged, and there was a long silence. Finally, Jenna spoke. "Remember when I was telling you about Serena and the hypnotism? How she wanted me to find out if this guy was into her? Well ... I don't think she was really interested in him. There's something else going on. I couldn't read her mind, but I got the feeling she has secrets."

  Amanda nodded. "Yeah, I think she's kind of weird, too."

  Jenna gazed at her quizzically. "You know what? We kind of think alike."

  "Yeah, maybe," Amanda said. "But that doesn't mean we're going to be friends," she added hastily.

  "Absolutely not," Jenna assured her.

  "Good." Amanda stopped pacing. "Let's go to the kitchen and find something to eat. And I'll tell Tracey's mother you're staying for a while."

  "What if she says no?" Jenna asked.

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  Amanda grinned. "She's going to have to get used to a different kind of daughter. The kind that always gets her own way."

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  Chapter Fourteen

  THERE WERE NO ABSENTEES in the gifted class the next day, so Serena had a full group to choose from. "Let's see," Madame said to her. "You've seen Charles, Emily, Ken, and Jenna, so there's Tracey, Martin, Sarah, and Carter to choose from."

  Not me, Amanda thought. Somehow she'd have to avoid being with Serena. Who knew what she might reveal under hypnosis?

  Madame wasn't giving Serena the choice. "I'd like you to spend some time with Carter, Ms. Hancock."

  The student teacher had given up asking her to call her Serena. "Why him?"

  Amanda was interested, too. Carter was the one student she didn't know anything about. He never spoke, and she had no idea what his special gift might be.

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  "We think that Carter has amnesia," Madame explained. "He was discovered a month ago, wandering the streets, by one of our teachers. We've tested him, and he seems very intelligent, but he doesn't speak or communicate in any way. We don't know anything about him."

  "Why is he in the gifted class?" Serena wanted to know.

  "We thought Carter might profit from being around other special young people," Madame said.

  Serena didn't look terribly intrigued, but she had a question. "If he doesn't communicate, how do you know his name?"

  "We don't," Madame said. "We named him after the place where he was found--Carter Street, on the west side. I think he might really benefit from hypnosis."

  "Oh," Serena said, but she seemed to have lost interest and continued to gaze around the room. "Actually, I'd like to see Emily."

  Madame's eyes narrowed. "But you've already worked with Emily," she protested.

  "There's more work to be done," Serena insisted.

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  "But--"

  "I do have Principal Jackson's permission," Serena reminded her.

  "All right," Madame said, but there was no enthusiasm in her tone. "Emily?"

  Emily obediently left the room with Serena. Madame's eyes followed them, and distrust was written all over her face. Amanda turned to look at Jenna. She didn't have to be a mind reader to know that Jenna was wondering about this, too.

  Finally, Madame turned and addressed the rest of the class.

  * "In the past we've talked about the body-and-mind connection. Today we're going to draw on some yoga exercises, which can be helpful in learning how to control your body."

  Amanda was pleased. She hoped that by concentrating on her body she wouldn't have to think about what was going on inside her head. She joined the class in pushing the desks and chairs away to clear space on the floor for the yoga exercises. Madame produced some mats and spread them out.

  But yoga wasn't like doing the kind of exercises

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  they did in gym class. Holding positions gave Amanda plenty of unwanted time to think.

  Mymother is really nice, she thought. And I'm not very nice to her. What's the matter with me? If I ever get hack inside myself I promise I'll he better.

  That was all very well, but she'd have to be herself again before she could make good on her promise. And she had no idea when that would happen--if ever.

  Where are you, Tracey? she thought. Why won't you come back and reclaim your body? I'm making things better for you. You look a lot better. I've made your parents listen to you. If you keep doing what I'm doing, you won't be a great big nothing anymore.

  She didn't really expect any response, so she wasn't surprised when she didn't get one. What was the matter with the stupid girl? No, maybe stupid wasn't the right word. Sad--that was Tracey.

  Tracey, stop feeling sad. Get--get angry!

  Still no response. Amanda gave up and concentrated on her body. And she had to admit, when class was over, she was more relaxed than she'd felt in ages.

  Maybe it showed, because Madame kept looking

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  at her oddly. And when the bell rang, she called out, "Tracey, could I see you for a minute?"

  Amanda went to the teacher's desk, but Madame said nothing until all the other students had left the room.

  Then she gazed at Amanda with an intensity that made Amanda uncomfortable, Tracey ... "Yes, Madame?"

  The woman shook her head. "No, you're not Tracey.

  Amanda swallowed, hard. "I'm not?"

  Madame smiled. "You know you're not."

  Amanda bit her lip. Should she put up an argument? Something about the confidence in Madame's expression told her there was no point. "Why--why do you think I'm not Tracey?"

  "The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you look ... I've had my suspicions for a couple days. Can you tell me if Tracey is all right?"

  "I don't know," Amanda said honestly.

  "Can you tell me who you really are?"

  Amanda gulped. "Do I have to?"

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  "I can't force you," Madame said. "Can I go now?"

  Madame nodded. But as Amanda started out of the room, the teacher touched her shoulder, and she looked back.

  "Whoever you are ... be good to Tracey, okay? There's more to Tracey than meets the eye."

  Amanda had a feeling that she wasn't just talking about Tracey's ability to vanish.

  "I'm trying," Amanda said.

  When the school day was over, Jenna was waiting for her at the school exit. "What did Madame want?"

  "She knows I'm not Tracey," Amanda said glumly.

  "Well, you can't blame her. You're not exactly acting like Tracey. Does she know who you really are?"

  Amanda glared at her. "No, and you better not tell her."

  "My lips are sealed,"
Jenna said. "Can you do me a favor?"

  "What?"

  Jenna looked uncomfortable. "This is kind of embarrassing, but ... when I threw my stuff in my

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  bag yesterday, I forgot something. Something kind of important."

  "So you want to go home to get it?"

  Jenna made a face. "The thing is ... I don't want to go into the apartment if my mother and her friends are still hanging out. Sometimes these parties go on for days. If my mother sees me, she might start crying, and I'll feel awful."

  "You want me to get it for you?"

  "Would you?" Jenna asked eagerly.

  Amanda shrugged. She didn't have anywhere else she had to be.

  When they arrived at the door of Jenna's apartment, they could hear music and voices inside. Amanda hesitated. "What am I going to tell your mother?"

  "Just say you're picking up something for me."

  "But she doesn't know who I am. And she'll want to know why you can't get it yourself. What am I supposed to say?"

  Jenna was silent. After a moment, she said, "Maybe you could be invisible."

  Amanda rolled her eyes. "Jenna, you know Tracey

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  can't control that."

  "But you're not Tracey," Jenna countered. "So what?"

  "You're so much stronger than she is. I'll bet if you really wanted to be invisible, you could make it happen."

  Amanda didn't buy it. "Disappearing is Tracey's gift, not mine."

  "But you're controlling Tracey's body," Jenna said. "Maybe you can control her gift."

  Amanda still had doubts. "What is it I'm supposed to pick up for you anyway?"

  Jenna gave her an abashed grin. "This is the embarrassing part. It's a teddy bear."

  Amanda stared at her in disbelief. Then she burst out laughing. "See? I knew you weren't so tough!"

  Then Jenna was laughing, too. "Yeah, okay, I know it's goofy, but I've always slept with him. Don't tell anyone, okay? It would be very bad for my reputation."

  "No kidding," Amanda chortled. "The juvenile delinquent sleeps with her knife, her gun, and her teddy bear."

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  They were both giggling so hard now that they couldn't stop. And they must have been pretty loud, because suddenly a voice could be heard from inside the apartment. "Is someone out there?"