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Authors: Linda Joy Singleton
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and splash in frothy blue-gray waves. I’d have a kick-ass spring break wading in the surf and sunning on the beach. Except, I suddenly remembered, Mauve said Sharayah had an ocean phobia, even had bad dreams about the ocean. How could anyone be afraid of something so beautiful? And how could I pretend to be afraid of something I loved so much?
I am sick of pretending, I thought as I glanced up at Warren’s arm stretched across his seat, his gloved fingers a reach away.
“Hey, Rayah! How do you like this station?” Sadie had switched from the CD to the radio, jumping from song to song. She stopped on a familiar song, turning up the volume. “It’s that alt blues song you like, ‘Bleeding on the Inside.’”
“I love this song,” I said, surprised to share musical taste with Sharayah.
“Well, duh, that’s why I chose this channel. It’s got all our favorite songs. Remember when we sang on karaoke night?” Sadie giggled. “We were so smashed on Long Island Iced teas that you tripped over a cord and knocked us both off the stage. This really cute waiter caught me but you landed on a table. Wasn’t it a riot?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said vaguely.
“Sing with me, Rayah,” Sadie urged. “Let’s show Warren how we duet on karaoke nights.”
I couldn’t! I’d never sung in front of anyone. I had good rhythm, but a voice lethal enough to kill airborne germs.
But the real Sharayah wouldn’t refuse.
So I sucked up my shyness and sang along softly with Sadie. She had a nasally voice and a hilarious way of inventing her own lyrics. I didn’t know whether she couldn’t remember words or she just didn’t care. I cringed every time she got a word wrong.
At first I was just playing along, not really thinking about anything, until suddenly it hit me: I didn’t suck. Well, Sharayah didn’t. I lifted my voice, amazed by its power and absolutely perfect pitch.
“Wow,” Warren said when the song ended. “Rayah, you were great.”
“What about me?” Sadie pouted.
“Unforgettable,” he said.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sadie said, giving his arm a playful swat. “But I agree that Rayah’s a natural. I begged her to try out for American Idol only she refused.”
“Talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted,” Warren told me.
“Don’t bother trying to convince her,” Sadie said. “Rayah has a great voice but no ambition to do anything about it. Can you believe she’s majoring in medicine? Like hanging out around sick people would be more fun than performing in front of millions of fans. She could be a real star if she’d just go for it.”
So why didn’t Sharayah go for it? I wondered. My “borrowed” voice had full range, passion, and a soulful quality. The hint of dusky vibration added uniqueness—the extra factor the music industry loved. Of course, it took talent to be a doctor or nurse, too, and I had nothing against the medical profession. But a beautiful voice was a gift to be shared with the world, and becoming a star would be more exciting than taking blood pressure. I would give almost anything to have Sharayah’s natural talent. Unfortunately, my real voice could scare small children. That’s partly why I decided to become an entertainment agent. If I couldn’t be a star, I’d create them.
Recently, I’d come close to signing my first client. This new girl at school, Trinidad, wowed me so much with her powerhouse voice that I knew she was destined for stardom. So what if I didn’t have any experience as an entertainment agent? How do you get experience without taking risks? Trinidad was so talented that I knew I could convince a studio to sign her (and me!) on. But before I had a chance, the whole body-switch happened.
Now I had a chance to sign up another new talent— myself!
Puzzle pieces flew up in my mind, danced pirouettes, and fell down in perfect place. It all made sense now. This was why I’d been put in Sharayah’s body and why we were headed to
I am sick of pretending, I thought as I glanced up at Warren’s arm stretched across his seat, his gloved fingers a reach away.
“Hey, Rayah! How do you like this station?” Sadie had switched from the CD to the radio, jumping from song to song. She stopped on a familiar song, turning up the volume. “It’s that alt blues song you like, ‘Bleeding on the Inside.’”
“I love this song,” I said, surprised to share musical taste with Sharayah.
“Well, duh, that’s why I chose this channel. It’s got all our favorite songs. Remember when we sang on karaoke night?” Sadie giggled. “We were so smashed on Long Island Iced teas that you tripped over a cord and knocked us both off the stage. This really cute waiter caught me but you landed on a table. Wasn’t it a riot?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said vaguely.
“Sing with me, Rayah,” Sadie urged. “Let’s show Warren how we duet on karaoke nights.”
I couldn’t! I’d never sung in front of anyone. I had good rhythm, but a voice lethal enough to kill airborne germs.
But the real Sharayah wouldn’t refuse.
So I sucked up my shyness and sang along softly with Sadie. She had a nasally voice and a hilarious way of inventing her own lyrics. I didn’t know whether she couldn’t remember words or she just didn’t care. I cringed every time she got a word wrong.
At first I was just playing along, not really thinking about anything, until suddenly it hit me: I didn’t suck. Well, Sharayah didn’t. I lifted my voice, amazed by its power and absolutely perfect pitch.
“Wow,” Warren said when the song ended. “Rayah, you were great.”
“What about me?” Sadie pouted.
“Unforgettable,” he said.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sadie said, giving his arm a playful swat. “But I agree that Rayah’s a natural. I begged her to try out for American Idol only she refused.”
“Talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted,” Warren told me.
“Don’t bother trying to convince her,” Sadie said. “Rayah has a great voice but no ambition to do anything about it. Can you believe she’s majoring in medicine? Like hanging out around sick people would be more fun than performing in front of millions of fans. She could be a real star if she’d just go for it.”
So why didn’t Sharayah go for it? I wondered. My “borrowed” voice had full range, passion, and a soulful quality. The hint of dusky vibration added uniqueness—the extra factor the music industry loved. Of course, it took talent to be a doctor or nurse, too, and I had nothing against the medical profession. But a beautiful voice was a gift to be shared with the world, and becoming a star would be more exciting than taking blood pressure. I would give almost anything to have Sharayah’s natural talent. Unfortunately, my real voice could scare small children. That’s partly why I decided to become an entertainment agent. If I couldn’t be a star, I’d create them.
Recently, I’d come close to signing my first client. This new girl at school, Trinidad, wowed me so much with her powerhouse voice that I knew she was destined for stardom. So what if I didn’t have any experience as an entertainment agent? How do you get experience without taking risks? Trinidad was so talented that I knew I could convince a studio to sign her (and me!) on. But before I had a chance, the whole body-switch happened.
Now I had a chance to sign up another new talent— myself!
Puzzle pieces flew up in my mind, danced pirouettes, and fell down in perfect place. It all made sense now. This was why I’d been put in Sharayah’s body and why we were headed to
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