Airhead: Being Nikki Part 2

As soon as his fingers reached the back of my neck and curled into the heavy damp tangles of my hair, I realized we were going to have a problem. I wont deny it: It felt good, having his fingers there. That was the problem: Brandon knew it. This was one of the many issues I had with what Stark Enterprises had done to me, putting my brain inside Nikki Howards body. I didnt like Brandon Stark"at least, not that way.

But Nikki Howard liked Brandon Starkor at least her body did. My eyes drifted closed"totally against my will"as Brandon began to gently knead the place where my skull met my spine.

This was so wrong! Brandon knew Nikki Howard was defenseless in the face of a good neck ma.s.sage. Her entire body, Id discovered shortly after a hairstylist first tried it on me, went limp when anyone started kneading the place where her spine met the back of her neck.

Brandon obviously knew this, and was taking unfair advantage of the situation.

It seems like school is all you ever think about anymore, he went on. That and this Stark-Enterprises-is-ruining-the-country c.r.a.p.

Its not c.r.a.p, I murmured as his fingers went on kneading. Your dads company is contributing to global warming as well as to the decay of small-town America"

Man, its s.e.xy when you talk all revolutionary like that, Brandon murmured back.

His voice sounded so close, I opened my eyes. I was surprised to find his face directly in front of mine, his lips just an inch from my mouth.

Oh, no. It was happening again. I could feel myself leaning toward him, my body swaying closer to his as if pushed by some unseen forceeven though kissing Brandon Stark was the last thing I wanted to do just then. Intellectually, I mean.

The thing was, it wasnt me. I had no control over it. It was Nikki. She was just boy crazy like that.

Not that theres anything wrong with a woman who enjoys kissing guys. Kissing guys is fantastic. In fact, I cant believe I spent so much of my life pre-being-Nikki not kissing guys.

The problem with Nikki was that she seemed to have spent so much of her life before my brain was inside her kissing the wrong guys. So much time, in fact, that kissing the wrong guys had become a habit too hard to break, and was now something her body did on automatic, without my being able to stop it.

Like right then, for instance. Before I could do anything, my mouth was on Brandons, and we were full-on making out in the exact spot where just minutes before hed been hooking up with Rhonda the hostess.

And I could see why Rhonda had been into him, too. Brandons lips were so soft, his hand cradling the back of my head as his mouth moved insistently against mine.

And I could feel that thing happening, that thing that always started happening whenever a guy started kissing Nikki, whether I liked him or not"which was how Id almost ended up ruining my relationship with Lulu a month or two earlier, by making out with her boyfriend. It was horrible, but I honestly couldnt seem to stop myself"er, Nikki, rather. Her body began arching toward Brandons as if of its own accord, my hands reaching up until they were slipping along his strong, sinewy arms, then wrapping around his neck, clinging to him.

The thing was, I knew it was happening, that I was about to get lost, sucked under just like when Id fallen into the water. I knew it was happening and yet I couldnt stop myself, any more than I could keep my head upright when someone was giving me a neck ma.s.sage.

Because it wasnt me. I swear it wasnt me.

And how could I control someone elses body, someone I wasnt? At least, someone I wasnt yet. Not entirely.

And then Brandon moved his hand, his fingers brushing the still sensitive raised scar along the back of my head. Little needles of pain shot though me. I jerked my face from his.

Ow! I cried.

What? Brandons expression had turned from one of desire to one of confusion. Whatd I do? Hey, what is that on your head? You haveAre those hair extensions?

Its not.i.tsnever mind. I leaned back in my chair, my lips still throbbing a little from where hed pressed them against his. I felt a myriad of emotions, but the primary one was relief. I had never been so grateful for my scar. What was I doing? Making out with Brandon? Oh, my G.o.d. Lulu had said to do the tongue thing, but seriously, I hadnt meant to take her literally. J-just another reason why it would be better for us to leave tomorrow, as scheduled.

My voice wasnt as steady as I might have hoped, considering the fact that I was in love with someone else. The truth was, while I was grateful to Stark Enterprises for giving me the chance to live, I sometimes wished theyd found someone elses body to slip my brain intosomeone not quite soexcitable as Nikki.

Fine, Brandon said, looking down at his own hand, as if he were expecting to see it covered in blood.

Which was ridiculous. Id had my st.i.tches out weeks ago.

Only he didnt know that.

You know, Nik, I just dont get you lately, Brandon went on, eyeing me from his deck chair.

I know, I said. Im sorry about that. I havesome issues. Im working on them. But I really do like you, Brandon.

He raised one of those dark eyebrows. Yeah? he said. How much? Enough to want to get back together? Because I gotta tell you There was no mistaking his tone. Id be up for it.

I swallowed, feeling panic rise. This was so not what I neededand exactly what I deserved for flirting with the bosss son. Why had I ever thought I had the slightest idea what I was doing, playing with Brandons emotions the way I just had? I havent been Nikki long enough to know how to play the game the way she apparently used to.

Um, that is so sweet of you, Brandon, I said quickly. But I think its probably better I stay single for now, while I work out those issues I mentioned.

Of course, if things went the way I hoped they would when I got home, and Christopher and I got together, Brandon was going to be mad when he found out I was lying to him about the wanting to stay single thing.

But Id cross that bridge when I got to it.

Brandon glared at me, almost as if hed been reading my thoughts. Youve never been single a minute of your life, he said. Whos the guy?

Theres no guy, I a.s.sured him, with a laugh. I hoped the laugh didnt sound as shaky to him as it did to me. Honest. Im just taking some me time right now. Id heard that on Oprah the other day. Would he fall for it? Maybe if I nagged him a little to do the same. You might want to try it as well. I think there are things you could be doing to help convince your dad to make his company more globally responsible.

Brandon looked away. My dad and I have some issues of our own, he said tonelessly.

Oh, I said. Right. I remembered the conversation wed had about his dad at a photo shoot a month or two earlier. He doesnt speak to the talent, Brandon had said. Or to me.

I guess Ill call the pilot, then, if leaving early is all you want. Brandon fumbled in the pocket of his shorts for his cell phone. He looked a littlethere was no other way to describe it: angry.

And why wouldnt he be? It couldnt be easy, growing up in a billionaires shadow. Sure, he had everything a guy could want.

Except his dads approval.

And Nikki Howard to make out with, apparently.

Thanks, Bran, I said, and cleared my throat. Youre a great guy.

Yeah, Brandon said, looking everywhere but at me. Thats what they all say.

It was amazing, I thought to myself as I walked back to my suite, Cosabella trotting along at my heels. Thanks to the gigantic scar along the back of my head, Id been saved from making a pretty colossal mistake. Well, probably. I doubt Brandon and I would really have gotten it on right there, outside Sea Breezes, the hotel bar.

But if it hadnt been for the surgery, I wouldnt have been in this situation in the first place.

Instead, Id be dead.

Maybe, I thought, as I noticed how the full moon was shining down on the cold, dark water that, a few hours before, Id been immersed in, it was time to stop feeling sorry for myself and start appreciating the fact that I was alive. Sure, my new life wasnt perfect.

But things were starting to look up.

Funny how, at the time, I really did believe that.

As it turned out, however, I couldnt have been more wrong.

THREE.

THE BEST THING ABOUT TRAVELING ON private jets is that you dont have to do the getting-to-the-airport-two-hours-before-your-flight-is-scheduled-to-leave thing. You show up five minutes before your flight is supposed to take off, and you dont even have to go through security. They open a special gate and let your limo drive straight up to the plane, so you can just hop out with your bag (and dog, which you can let roam free, because its your planeor your bosss plane, but whatever) and go right up the stairs to your seat. No one checks your ticket, or your ID, or anything. They just go, Good morning, Miss Howard, and offer you a gla.s.s of champagne (or, if youre underage, orange juice).

Then, five minutes later, you take off. No safety demonstrations. No screaming babies. No waiting in line to use the cramped Port-O-Let-style bathroom. Nothing like that.

Instead, youve got luxurious leather seats, shiny mahogany tables, Wi-Fi (oh, yes: that thing about how you cant use Wi-Fi or cell phones in the air? Total bull. You completely can, when you fly Stark Air), fresh-cut flowers, your own window, your own personal Stark brand DVD player if you want one, with a vast library of newly released movies to choose from.

A girl could get used to this kind of lifestyle. And have difficulty going back to commercial travel. Am I a huge hypocrite hating Stark Enterprises for what they did to me (and thousands of small-business owners, not to mention the environment), yet choosing to fly on Robert Starks private jet instead of flying commercially?

Yeah.

But if it was going to get me home to Christopher"and my new, happy life, when the two of us started dating"eight hours earlier than if I took a commercial flight, I didnt care.

Sooner than I would have thought possible, the Manhattan skyline came into view, shrouded in dreary gray rain clouds beneath us. But somehow the sight of this island, sticking out of the brackish black water of the Hudson and East rivers like a middle finger, thrilled me much more than the white-beached tropical islands wed just left.

I was straining my neck to see if I could catch a glimpse of Washington Square Park and my familys apartment building, when I got the first text on my non-Stark brand cell phone.

SOS, Frida wrote. Call ASAP.

I was dialing her cell number before I even considered that it was my sister, Frida, to whom an emergency is Sephora running out of eyeliner. All I could think was, Dad. Heart attack. He was, after all, a middle-aged white male who worked too hard, living in New Haven most of the week so he could teach at Yale. We only saw him on weekends. I knew perfectly well what he ate most of the time. Dunkin Donut Munchkins and day-old coffee. Id never once seen him exercise. Or consume a piece of fruit.

Frida? I said as soon as she picked up. I noticed Brandon, across the aisle, open an irritated eye at the frantic tone of my voice. Hed slept the whole way. Or pretended to sleep. Hed been treating me a little distantly all morning. I dont think hed quite gotten over what happened between us the night before"my turning down his offer to become boyfriend/girlfriend again, I mean.

He closed the single bloodshot eye hed opened, as soon as he realized I was just on the phone and not speaking to him.

What is it? I asked Frida urgently, keeping my voice low, so as not to disturb my bosss hungover son. Is it Dad? Is everything all right?

What? No, its not Dad. Frida, on the other end of the phone, sounded upset. And no, everythings not all right. Its Mom.

What about Mom? Mom? Mom was the epitome of good health. She swam laps every morning at the student gym. She ate nothing but salads, and chicken with the skin pulled off. It was almost disgusting how healthy she was. Is she all right?

Shes fine, Frida said. Physically. Mentally is questionable. She found out about cheerleading, and now shes trying to get me kicked off the squad.

I slumped back in my leather seat. My relief was so great, I couldnt even speak. Also, I wanted to kill Frida for scaring me like that.

Em, Frida was saying. You have to come over right away and try to reason with her. She says I cant go to cheerleading camp.

Im on a plane right now, I said, looking out the window at the Hudson River coldly winking back at me. I was just in the Virgin Islands, remember? So coming over isnt really an option. Plus, I had something a little more important I needed to be doing than refereeing fights between my mother and sister. True, the likelihood of Christopher stopping by again wasnt great"although it was Sunday, so it wasnt like he had anything better to do. I knew all Christopher ever did on Sunday was play Journeyquest, or maybe hang around the video game stores, to see if theyd got in anything new on Sat.u.r.day. Still, I intended to sit home all day, just in case.

And isnt it a little precipitate to be worrying about cheerleading camp now? I asked her. Its December. You have months until summer to wear her down. And possibly lose interest in cheerleading and develop an interest in something more cerebrally challenging, such as rocket science, I thought but didnt add aloud.

This is a week-long cheer camp to perfect our routine over winter break, Frida explained. In Florida. Everybody on the team goes. Only Moms saying over her dead body will she let her daughter go to something called cheer camp.

Arent we going to Grandmas for winter break? I asked, as Cosabella, who loved riding in planes almost as much as she loved riding in cars, decided the view from my lap wasnt exciting enough and bounded across the aisle to see what was going on outside Brandons window, severely racking him and also waking him up again in a manner I would have to call not very pleasant. I mouthed Sorry to him, but he only gave me an aggrieved look.

There was an uncomfortable silence over the phone. I thought wed hit a patch of no-service until Frida said, Well, yeah. We are. Cheer camp doesnt start until after the holidays. But, Em"

Problem solved, then, I said. Look, Ill give Mom a call. She should be happy youre making friends, staying physically fit, and doing something extracurricular that will look good on your college apps. I guess. And okay, soccer or lacrosse might have been preferable, but"

Calling her isnt good enough, Frida interrupted. You have to come over. She has to hear it from you in person. Otherwise shes never going to let me go"

Fine, I said. Ill be over after I drop off all my stuff. I have presents for you guys, anyway. Holiday shopping had moved to a whole new level now that I actually had money to spend. Being able to buy my family the kind of gifts I knew theyd always longed for but were never able to afford was awesome. It truly was better to give than to receive. I couldnt wait to see Fridas face when she opened the tiny black velvet box I was giving her.

Frida didnt say anything, which was a bit weird for her, since she rarely kept her mouth shut.

But it could have been that she was just so overwhelmed with grat.i.tude that I was bearing gifts, she didnt know what to say.

Yeah. Right.

I a.s.sumed from her unusual silence that wed flown through some sort of cell phone dead zone, so I hung up and went to fish my dog from Nikki Howards ex-boyfriends lap.

Brandon didnt look very grateful. I couldnt blame him. Cosabella really needed some obedience training.

Although it was hard being cooped up in a plane, as Cosy ill.u.s.trated when the first thing she did after we disembarked was pee all over the tarmac. She did the same thing when Karl the doorman opened the door of the town car that let me off from Teterboro, the airport where Robert Stark kept his jets. Cosy popped out and trotted over to the planters outside 240 Centre Street. It was embarra.s.sing, but where else was she going to do it?

Welcome back, Miss Howard, Karl said as I stepped out into the freezing drizzle that was coming down from the leaden sky overhead. It was a far cry from the balmy breezes of the Virgin Islands, and no one was exactly rushing over to give me a pina colada like they did at the hotel back in St. John. I hope you had a nice time while you were away.

It was great, I said automatically. I was freaking out, as always, about the dog. Karl must have been able to tell, because he said, Oh, Ill clean that up, Miss Howard. You just hurry on inside, where its warm. Oh, I think you should knowyou have a visitor waiting in the lobby. I wasnt sure ifwell, youll see.

My heart did that flip-floppy thing, even though I told myself it couldnt be him. I mean, Christopher was not the type to sit in the lobby of a girls apartment building and wait for her to come home.

Still, when I walked into the lobby and saw a flash of short blond hair, I couldnt help thinking, Its him! Oh, G.o.d, its him!

And then I practically started shaking, I was suddenly so nervous.

Which was ridiculous. I mean, Id been best friends with the guy since forever. Id had burping contests with him, for G.o.ds sake. And okay, that was in the seventh grade, but still. Why was I getting nervous now? I was the one in a new body, and he hadnt even figured it out yet, despite my once leaving him a very obvious clue. He was still so busy missing the old me"the one hed never even noticed until it was too late"that he hadnt realized (until now, apparently) that reports of my death had been greatly exaggerated.

So why was I the one turning to Jell-O?

But I couldnt even bring myself to look his way. Instead, because I couldnt deal with the situation and was trying to play it cool like Lulu had once advised me to do, I pretended not to notice him, and stumbled my way to the elevator, trying to sashay like Nikki Howard but knowing I was more likely stumbling like Em Watts, Cosabella scampering at my heels, until I heard a masculine voice call out, Nikki.

I didnt want to look too eager. Guys hate that (according to Lulu, my resident expert on all things guy). I had to let him take the lead. I had to let him think coming here was all his idea (which it was, actually). I had to"

Nikki.

Wait a minute. That wasnt him.

That was not Christophers voice.

I looked around. There was a tall blond guy standing in the lobby of my building, it was true. He was built, just like Lulu had said on the phone. And he was looking right at me.