Between the Lives - By Jessica Shirvington Page 0,34

my mouth and nodded.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Fine, fine, you don’t have to tell me about your boyfriend. I just want you to know that I think he’s a lovely boy. The two of you are a good match.’ She lifted her glass to salute her approval.

I shovelled another spoon into my already full mouth and nodded between chews.

Mom smiled. ‘Okay, I get the picture. Anyway, I just wanted you to know I’m very …’ She straightened in her seat. Mom never did these conversations well. You know, the ones with ‘feelings’. She cleared her throat. ‘I’m glad you’ll be going to Harvard. I would have missed you if you’d gone to a college far away.’ And with that she stood and cleared the plates.

‘Love you too, Mom,’ I mumbled through a mouthful of tart as she walked to the kitchen.

Before I had a chance to swallow, my cell phone rang.

‘Hello,’ I said, my voice barely audible.

‘Sabine? Hello? Are you alive?’

Miriam.

‘Maybe she’s with Dex,’ Lucy snickered.

‘Or under him,’ Miriam added.

It was time for our Sunday night conference call.

I rolled my eyes and swallowed as much tart as I could manage. ‘Peach tart, you tarts!’

They both laughed.

‘Well, did he or did he not take you to some fancy restaurant in the city today and then to the back row at the movies?’ Miriam demanded.

I sighed, thinking of the not-so-successful date.

‘So …’ Lucy prodded, her voice sounding a little breathless. I could just imagine her sitting on her bed, bouncing up and down eagerly.

I considered telling them that it hadn’t gone so well. But that would only get back to Dex one way or another, so instead I did what I did best.

I lied.

‘It was great. Dex pulled out all the stops and took me to Le Bon Gout for lunch. You guys know how much I’ve wanted to go to that place. Best of all, even though I was still a bit tired from the party, Dex was just a honey. He talked about Harvard, about our future …’

‘About graduation night,’ Lucy chimed in.

I laughed. ‘He might’ve mentioned it. All in all, it was pretty perfect.’

‘Well, that’s Dex for you, he is the perfect guy,’ Lucy said.

‘So true,’ I agreed.

In theory.

‘Aw, you two are so made for each other,’ Miriam said, boarding the we-all-love-Dex express. ‘You know that of everyone, you two are pitted as the ones who’ll make it. I can just see it now – Mr and Mrs Dex Holdsworth.’

‘Ah,’ I stammered. ‘One step at a time.’

‘That’s right, Miriam, at least give them a chance to have a proper test drive first,’ Lucy teased. I didn’t respond to that. I didn’t need to – they were too busy laughing.

I really didn’t want to be having this conversation, but I kept my tone light and willing, and Lucy and Miriam maintained most of the banter. Eventually I fell into old habits and found myself giggling along with them – gossiping about potential scandals and what everyone else would be doing after school. If nothing else, my friends had given me back me – the Wellesley me – for a time at least. An hour later, exhausted from laughter and allegations, we hung up.

As I called out goodnight to Mom and headed to my room, I glanced at my watch and shuddered. Two hours until the Shift – and all I had left to do was think about what was waiting for me on the other side.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Wellesley, Sunday / Roxbury, Monday

After I’d had a shower, flipped through the Harvard course guide and even cleaned my room, I still had an hour to go and my hands were trembling. I’d never Shifted knowing that I was going back to a drugged version of myself. The idea terrified me, and once again I had to run to the bathroom and throw my head over the toilet. Peach tart is disturbingly self-preserving.

I don’t know how many times I was sick, only that it was a new record. As the minutes ticked by, my level of franticness built. I had absolutely no way to prepare for what was to come, and no way of controlling it after the Shift.

I hated it at the best of times – Shifting from one life to the next. I’d worked hard over the years to perfect the routines that meant I had to face as little of this panic as possible. This time, even more so than Shifting with Dex’s tongue down my throat, that one small element