They walked right in through the side wall, having no need for the front door, and in an instant, they were in the midst of dozens of teenaged fleshies, doing all those things Allie’s parents would have grounded her for when she was alive: drinking, smoking, dancing much too close in clothes that were far too revealing. And, of course, not a single adult was in sight.

“We were all so stupid when we were alive,” Allie noted.

“Ah, to be that stupid again.” Milos looked around, and pointed to the kitchen. “That way.”

The crowd thinned out in the kitchen; there were only about half a dozen kids in there. “There they are!” he said, pointing to a boy, maybe seventeen, talking to a girl about the same age. He wore a shirt that effectively showed off a body in ripped, varsity shape. He was also amazingly easy on the eye.

“Best-looking boy here, yes?”

Allie forced a shrug. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“And her.” He pointed to the girl the boy was talking to. “Miss American Pie.”

Allie laughed. The girl was too pretty for her own good. A blond cheerleader type that Allie instantly invented a halfdozen negative fictions about: She must be an airhead, she must be a drunk, she must cheat on tests, she must backstab her friends, and that ridiculous rack can’t be real.

“Why don’t you skinjack her?”

“What possible point could that serve?”

“Listen to teacher,” said Milos.

Allie sighed. “Fine, but I’m not going to like it.”

But to her surprise, she was wrong. About everything. She didn’t put the girl to sleep. Not at first anyway. First Allie hid behind her consciousness, to get a good sense of her mental landscape. This girl was not any of the things Allie had imagined. She was smart and honest, never held a pom-pom in her life, and the mug of beer on the counter beside her wasn’t even hers. Allie found it annoying that this girl didn’t fit any of her preconceived notions.

“So, are you going to take the UT-Memphis scholarship?” asked the good-looking boy, “because I think you should. That way you’ll be closer to home, right? And—” Suddenly he stopped, and something about him changed. It was very slight—the way he held his shoulders, the angle of his head—and although his eyes were brown, it was as if they were also blue with white speckles at the same time.

Now Allie gently put the girl to sleep, and took full control of her body.

“She looks good on you,” Milos said.

“Thanks, I think.” Allie looked around. The girl had clear vision, and saw everything in colors a little too vibrant. It figured. “So am I Cinderella at the ball now?”

“That depends. Am I the Prince of Charming?”