After eating, Jordan's group went outside again. Evan tried to mimic how Jordan would talk. He got some funny looks, but all of Jordan's friends stayed with him.
He remembered where Jordan's next class was, so he walked his body down the hallway. He still marveled at how tall Jordan was, and how much stronger than Evan. Where Evan would have gotten knocked into and pushed over, Jordan could just walk around. Evan strutted down the hallway, never moving out of the way for anyone.
It took a lot of work to concentrate like that, and Evan wasn't going to waste his energy on
this
part of school. When they got to class, Evan released Jordan and relaxed back.
Jordan jumped like he'd been electrocuted. Then he groaned and put his head in his hands. Everyone in the class looked at him.
“Hey, man,” said a boy near him, “you all right?”
“I'm fine,” Jordan snapped. Some of the kids snickered. Jordan, who obviously wasn't used to being laughed at, whipped around in his chair to see who it was. That just made them snicker more. Jordan turned back around, red in the face with anger. Evan felt his muscles tense.
For the rest of the day, Jordan barely talked to anyone. His nerves leaked into basketball practice, and even though Evan enjoyed it, it wasn't the same. Jordan stomped toward his mother's car.
“How was your day, honey?” asked his mother.
Jordan was quiet for a second. “Mom . . .”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Have you ever felt like . . .” He paused, and his mother looked at him strangely. “Like someone else was inside you pulling the strings, like you didn't have any control over what you did?”
His mother paused thoughtfully. “Well . . . I guess so,” she said. “I guess I've done some things I wish I hadn't done. Did something happen today?”
“No,” said Jordan, “I mean . . .”
What was Jordan going to say? “I missed a lot of shots today. I was just really off!” said Evan. This time Evan didn't give Jordan a chance to come back and act crazy. But Jordan didn't make it easy for Evan to hang on to control. He was struggling inside his body more than ever. Evan's mind pushed him violently back.
Jordan's mother cooked chicken for dinner that night, and it was a lot better than the chicken Evan's mother cooked. Evan slowly savored every bite, ignoring Jordan's angry pushing. Both of Jordan's parents looked at him strangely, but Evan didn't care. He was Jordan Bates, the most popular kid in school, and he could do what he wanted!
T
HE NEXT MORNING,
Evan caught Jordan when he was already in the car with his mother.
“Are you sure you're all right?” she asked.
“Yes!” cried Evan. “Did I say something was wrong?”
His mother twisted her eyebrows. “Are you having . . . you know . . .” She trailed off and looked straight at the road ahead.
“No,” said Evan. “It's nothing like that.” He wondered what problem Jordan possibly could have. Maybe he wet the bed at night, Evan thought, grinning inside.
“You know you can talk to me about it if you are,” she said. But she looked stiffly ahead at the road and her fingers tightened around the wheel. Evan didn't think she wanted to talk about it any more than he did.
Evan decided that when he got home, he would take apart Jordan's room and look for evidence. Maybe he would write something in ketchup on the walls. Then his parents would really think he was losing it. Evan snickered at the thought.
At school, Evan bounded around, now fully into the role of being Jordan Bates. He greeted Jordan's friends and apologized for yesterday's practice. When people brought up things Evan didn't know anything about, he just pretended he wasn't interested in the subject. He was sure that was what someone as stuck up as Jordan would do.
He even started paying attention in Jordan's classes. Unfortunately, he hadn't taken over any of Jordan's reading ability. Even after all his time in bed, he still read painfully slowly. At least in seventh grade, teachers didn't make you read out loud. Besides, what did he care? They were Jordan's grades. Jordan probably had enough As to last a lifetime.
And the best part, the part Evan hadn't even imagined, was that Jordan Bates had a girlfriend, who even after two years was still the prettiest girl in school.
At first he felt just as nervous as if he were still Evan, the boy who had never spoken more than two words to the fantastic Angela Owens.
Before lunch, Evan went to the boys' room and looked in the mirror. He had looked in the mirror as Jordan yesterday, but today he took a long, hard look.
Jordan's blue eyes stared back at him. His perfectly mussed hair stuck up in just the right places. His clear skin almost glowed, especially when compared to the zits that peppered Evan's face beneath the growing membranes.
Someone called out to him as he left the bathroom, but he ignored it. All he could think about was getting to Angela's locker.
She was with one of her friends when he walked up. Evan didn't recognize the girl, but she was almost as pretty as Angela. Angela had long dark-red hair that fell around her shoulders in perfect curls. She had blue eyes the same color as Jordan's and a perfect button nose. The other girl was blond and a little shorter, but she also had blue eyes and perfect hair. They giggled together as Jordan walked up.
Angela hit him in the chest.
“Hey!” Evan exclaimed.
“That's for not calling me!” she cried, but her voice didn't sound too angry.
“Hey, uh . . .” Evan scratched his head. It had never occurred to him to call her. Shouldn't Jordan have done that after Evan left?
Angela rolled her eyes at the blond girl.
“Hey,” said Evan, waving at her. He figured she must be a friend of Jordan's too.
“Hey,” said the blond girl, beaming at him.
“I'm sorry,” said Evan. “My mom was on the phone all night.”
“Your mom was on your phone?” Angela gaped at him.
Evan suddenly realized that Jordan must have a cell phone.
Of course he does,
he thought. He kicked himself.
“It's broken,” said Evan.
“Oh,” said Angela. She grabbed his hand and started walking toward the cafeteria.
Evan nearly fell over. He had never held a girl's hand before. He could feel his palm starting to sweat.
She'll know,
he thought wildly. But he followed her. By the time lunch was over, he was even talking to her in an almost normal voice.
That day practice was canceled, so Evan let Jordan go just long enough to call Jordan's mom. When she got there, she still looked worried, but she didn't say anything about the morning. As soon as he got the chance, Evan bounded up the stairs to Jordan's room, resolved to dig up Jordan's secret. But as soon as he saw the room, he forgot all about that.
Jordan had a large flat-screen TV in his bedroom and fancy speakers for his iPod. Evan didn't know much about TVs or speakers, but he knew fancy. Jordan also had the newest PlayStation and the newest Xbox. Evan had an old PlayStation at home, but he couldn't play it anymore.
Evan looked down at Jordan's hands and grinned. As fast as he could, he turned on the Xbox and started a game. It took him a few minutes to figure out how to get the whole setup going and he wasn't any good at it, but it didn't matter. His fingers moved across the buttons like a skipper bug on water. He had thought he would never be able to do this again.
All at once, he started crying. Tears flowed down Jordan's pale, perfect face and ran onto the controller. Jordan's body shook with sobs.
I might have one more day,
Evan thought.
Maybe two days. Maybe a week.
Longer than tomorrow, but less than a year, the bug had said. And tomorrow had passed.
Jordan's mother appeared in the door. She looked down at him, and she was crying too. Evan didn't know why Jordan's mother was upset, but he let her sit down on the floor next to him and put her arms around him. Right then it didn't matter why.
W
HEN HE SAW
his own mother again, Evan was silent. He felt like he had been crying, but his face was dry. He couldn't move much, nor did he want to. While she talked about her day, he stared at the wall.
Pictures of Angela punching him, Angela smiling, Angela grabbing his hand, ran through his mind. And then there was Jordan's bedroom. Jordan's mother. Jordan's blue eyes and blond hair in the mirror. Jordan's unwebbed fingers.
Evan's mother didn't ask what was wrong.
She thinks she knows,
thought Evan.
She thinks I'm just sad because I'm getting worse.
Dully, he wondered what would happen if he told her. Would she laugh? Or cry? Or would she have been through so much that she would just sit there and let it go?
He slept that night, but when he woke up, he felt no better. It was a worthless, restless sleep. He sat in his bed, wanting to be Jordan, but not wanting to, because he'd just have to give it up again and be
this.
When he finally jumped, it was after breakfast time. Jordan was already sitting on the staircase, his shoes untied and his head buried in his hands. Evan remained there.
Why can't I just be happy?
he thought.
Why can't I enjoy it while it lasts?
He felt a presence standing over him. It was Jordan's father, dressed in a suit and tie, looking down at him gravely. Evan looked up.
Jordan's father was a tall man. Stocky, but still in good shape. Evan knew he was some kind of bigwig who worked at one of the banks on Main Street.
“Jordan,” he said. “You have to go to school. You can't stay home. You're not sick.”
Evan looked up at him, unsure of what to say.
“This business about being possessed. I have an acquaintance who's a psychiatrist. I'll make you an appointment.”
“I don't need a psychiatrist,” said Evan, alarmed. But Jordan's parents couldn't really do anything, could they? He tried to smile, wondering how Jordan looked.
“Do you think this is a joke?” asked Jordan's father. “Why won't you talk to us?”
Evan looked down at his feet. Jordan's father sat down below him on the staircase. He sighed and looked a little kinder. “Your mother and I are still dealing with it too, you know. You're not in this alone.” He patted Jordan's knee.
Abruptly, Evan got up. “Go ahead and make the appointment if you want to,” he said. Jordan would probably need it once Evan was gone. He brushed past Jordan's father and out to the car, where his mother was waiting in silence.
Evan had thought it would get easier, but Jordan was pushing him harder than ever. It was all he could do just to walk straight. Angela was waiting at Jordan's locker. She looked pale and worried.
“Jordan, is that you?” she asked.
“What do you mean? Of course it's me. I don't look that bad, do I?” asked Evan, trying to sound normal.
Angela looked shocked and took a step backward. Too late, Evan realized that Jordan must have told her. Did they have a code word? What could it be?
“What's wrong?” he asked.
Angela shook her head, turned, and ran down the hallway away from him. Looking around, he realized everyone was staring at him.
“Guess she's mad at me,” he said with a forced smile.
A couple kids laughed, but most gaped at him like he was a moron.
He stalked off to his first class in an even fouler mood, thrusting Jordan deep inside him. It seemed like fewer people were talking to him than normal. Nobody passed him notes or whispered to him in class. By lunchtime he was boiling with anger. Why were people treating him like he was Evan?
Outside the cafeteria, he confronted Andy. Andy was supposed to be his best friend. The number two to Jordan's number one.
“What's going on?” Evan asked loudly. He poked a finger into Andy's chest. “Why is everyone ignoring me? Did Angela say something to you?”
“âWhy is everyone ignoring me?'” Andy mimicked. Someone behind him laughed. Suddenly, he felt surrounded. All of Jordan's lunch group had gathered around, except for Angela, who was nowhere to be seen.
“What's your deal?” he said angrily.
“âWhat's your deal?'” Andy mimicked back. “What's wrong with you?” His voice was disdainful. He pulled his head backward as if Evan smelled bad.
“Look, uh . . . Angela ran off this morning. I'm sorry if I've been distracted.”
Andy kept looking at him like he stank. The others had the same look.
“Whatever,” said Evan. He turned and pushed his way through all the watching kids and headed back inside the school. He heard footsteps behind him and turned. It was Cory Parker. “What do you want?” Evan snapped.
“Don't let them bother you,” said Cory. “They'll get over it.”
Evan stared at him. “Cory, why are you being nice to Jordan Bates? He's always treated you like crap.” Then he realized what he'd said. “I mean . . . I . . .”
“You're not that bad! I mean . . .” Cory looked scared.
“Oh, hell.” Evan punched a locker. It made his hand sting, which made him even madder. “I'm not Jordan Bates.”
“I should have said this before, but I'm really sorry about your brother,” said Cory.
Evan stared at him. “What happened to Jordan's brother?” he asked. He didn't care if Cory thought he was crazy or not. He wasn't going to be Jordan anymore.
“My dad was in a car accident when I was little,” said Cory. “He almost died, too, but he lived and now he's in a wheelchair.”
Evan vaguely remembered this. Cory's father was bitter and mean and a drunk. No one ever saw him, but everyone knew.
“Jordan's brother died in a car accident?” asked Evan.
Cory gaped at him.
Evan hadn't even known Jordan ever had a brother. But that explained why Jordan's parents had thought they understood. Suddenly, Evan thought about what his mother would do when he was gone. It wasn't the first time he'd thought about it, but it seemed more real for some reason.