I wake up when I hear Ms. Dean's voice over the loud speaker.
"All buses will be running late today due to sixth grade orientation. Please remain in your classroom for an additional fifteen minutes before dismissal."
Not a problem, I think. I slowly open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling. Everything is blurry. The lights are dimmed. For just a few seconds, I'm a little confused . . . like, you know-who am I? Where am I? Why do I feel like I got hit by a truck? Then I remember.
I am Ellie.
I am a loser.
I am on a nurse's cot.
I am an escape gym convict!
I have no friends.
Great.
I don't not lift my head. I don't move a single muscle. I lie completely still and replay what happened in the locker room over again. I close my eyes and try to think of something, anything, I did to cause Sassy to suddenly hate me so much. I don't understand what I did, or why she hates me. It's so crazy how things can change so quickly. I would do anything to get things back to how they used to be.
I use my hand to wipe the teas that I feel trickling down my cheek. Oh my gosh, my eye feels all tender, and puffy like . . . like I got hit in the face. And my nose. My nose is killing me!
And my head. My head is throbbing. Like I ran into a wall.
At this moment? This very second? It occurs to that the nurse isn't here.
Where is the nurse?
The room is so still.
It's eerie.
Then I start to remember. I'm not alone.
OMG.
Jack Malloy.
How humiliating! The Prince of Thatcher Middle School saw me crying in my stupid gym clothes! Jack Malloy. Saw. Me. Crying.
Life as I know it is officially over.
I turn my head to glance at the Prince, sleeping, and-
What the-
I close my eyes, then open them and look again.
I'm dreaming, right? I'm dreaming. Of course I am!
When I turn to where Jack is, where the Prince was lying the last time I checked-
It's not him lying over there.
It's me.
What happens next is I freak out! I jump up. And this is going to sound absolutely crazy, but I go to my own body, sleeping on the cot, and poke my arm.
"Hey!" I say. The voice that comes out of my mouth is so raspy and deep! I sound-oh my gosh, I sound like a guy!
"Hey! Get up!" I say.
This has to be a dream, right?
I'm standing beside the cot, looking down at my own body, dressed in the blue Thatcher gym shorts and orange tee, seemingly sound asleep. There's actually a little bit of drooling coming out of my mouth. Am I dead?
I must be hallucinating.
I poke again. This time hard. Then I bend down real close and put my lips to my own ear.
"Helloooo!" I say.
Nothing.
So I grab a handful of my loose red hair and yank it. Hard.
I just about faint as my own eyes pop open and stare back.
Face-to-face, one inch away.
It's like I'm looking in a mirror . . .
Only there's no mirror.
I'm looking right at-
ME!