Chapter Seven

TEN MINUTES LATER

          Well, I had been pacing around the room for ten minutes when it finally dawned on me. Of course! I could just call Fi. She would know what to do. At least, I hoped she would know what to do. I couldn't help feeling a little wary—after all, this was the girl who willingly decided to leave the tour and let Annie take her place. But what other choice did I have?

          Decisively, I grabbed the phone and dialed Fi's number. Rrrrring. I began to have doubts. What if Fi didn't believe me? After all, I was Annie now. Rrrrring. And nobody in their right mind believed Annie. Rrrrring. That stupid blonde! It sucked to be her. I couldn't think of a single positive aspect of being trapped in Annie's—

          "Hey, Annie?"

          Ohhh, that voice. That singularly beautiful voice. How many times I imagined her to be crying my name in the middle of the night—there I go again.

          "Hey, it's Fi. I can't talk to you right now, but leave me a message and—"

          "AAAARRRGHH!!!" I yelled, throwing the phone across the room.

          "Annie?"

          "She's downstairs," I answered reflexively. Just then I realized Molly was standing right in front of me. And then I remembered that I was Annie. "I mean… um…"

          But she just laughed. That amazing laugh. I could have melted. This crush really had gone too far. Really. Especially now that I was trapped in the body of a 15-year-old girl. And not just any 15-year-old girl, but a particularly blond, fantastically annoying, mind-numbingly dumb one.

          Or maybe I was just bitter.

          Did I mention that she can't sing?

          "What are your plans for tomorrow?" Molly asked.

          "Um… uh… ummmmm…" Oh, great. As usual, around Molly I was reduced to a blubbering idiot. For a fraction of a second, I was almost grateful to be Annie—since blubbering idiocy was nothing out of the ordinary for her. Do I sound bitter to you?

          Molly just laughed, again. That wonderful, amazing, beautiful—okay, okay. "Do you want to go to the spa with me?"

          THE SPA!!!!!! I almost yelped. Wasn't that, like, where a lot of women got together and stripped and soaked in a bathtub? I wasn't sure, but I had heard rumors…

          I managed to nod.

          "Great! I figured we could go tomorrow after you-know-what," she winked.

          Um.

"Right!" I said intelligently.

"Well, make sure you get a good night's sleep," she added.

"Sure," I replied. Molly smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her. Okay… yeah. What the hell was happening tomorrow? I ran to study the calendar hanging over Annie's desk. November 3rd: "Audition for recording studio!!!!!!!!!" It was surrounded by hearts and stars and smiley faces.

I had to audition? For a recording studio? As in… sing? For a record deal? But that didn't make any sense. No record company would be stupid enough to sign her. After all, she couldn't sing.

Then I remembered that this was the same world where Britney Spears, Avril Lavigne, and Hilary Duff all had recording contracts.

And then, for the hundredth time today, I remembered: I was Annie. I controlled her fate. I would decide whether or not she got this record deal—whether or not the entire country would have to suffer.

I had power.

"Oh, Annie," I sneered, looking in the mirror. "You're so yesterday."