Help! I'm Trapped in a Supermodel's Body

  HELP!

  I'M TRAPPED IN

  A SUPERMODEL'S BODY

  TODD STRASSER

  1

  In my kitchen, Amber Sweeny, the smartest personand prettiest girl in our grade, swept her blond hair out of her face, leaned back in her chair, and blew a perfect saliva bubble.

  "How do you do it?" I asked.

  Amber flashed a brilliant smile. "I don't know. I just do."

  "How come mine keep popping on the tip of my tongue?" my friend Andy Kent asked.

  "Your saliva's not wet enough," Amber replied. "How can saliva not be wet enough?" asked my friend Josh Hopka.

  "All I know is that if it's too wet, you can't make the bubbles," Amber explained. "And if it's not wet enough, you can make them but they pop on the tip of your tongue."

  She rolled her tongue and another perfectly clear saliva bubble formed on the tip. She gave a little puff and the bubble took off and floated down to the table where it popped.

  "Show-off," Josh grumbled.

  "Hey, check this out." I pointed at a photo of a sleek red sports car in the magazine I was reading. "The Ferrari Superrossa."

  "Who cares?" Andy said. "It's just a car."

  "It's not just a car," I corrected him. "It's the fastest and most expensive car in the world."

  "It would be so cool if you had one," Amber said dreamily.

  "What's the point?" Josh asked. "It would just sit in the driveway. You can't drive."

  "Jessica could drive it for him," Andy said. "She just got her license, didn't she?"

  "Yup." I nodded.

  "Jessica can drive?" Amber asked in awe. Jessica may have been my older sister, but to us she was still a kid.

  "She'll do anything to use the car," I said. "Yesterday she took Lance to the veterinarian, picked up the dry cleaning, and even went grocery shopping ."

  "That's so cool," Andy said. "We'll have our own taxi service."

  At that exact moment Jessica came into the kitchen. She had the mail in her hands. "Exactly not!"

  "But you'll get to use the car," Josh said.

  "Forget it," Jessica replied as she sorted through the letters. "There's no way I'm going to be Jake's personal chauffeur."

  My sister tossed me a bright pink envelope. "This one's for you, Jake."

  The return address said Supermodel Today magazine.

  "Get real." I tried to hand it back. "It has to be yours."

  "From Supermodel Today?" Jessica shook her head. "Not a chance. I wouldn't be caught dead."

  I dropped the unopened letter to the table. "Neither would I."

  Amber picked up the envelope. "If no one else is going to open it, I guess I will."

  She pulled out a pale pink letter and started to read: "Congratulations, Jake Sherman, you have won Supermodel Today magazine's 'Personal Assistant to a Supermodel Contest.' "

  Jessica clasped her hands. "Way to go, Jake!"

  "It's a joke," I said.

  "Looks real to me." Amber handed me the letter. It smelled like perfume. "It's not a form letter or anything. Someone named Fiona Charm signed it."

  Amber was right. The letter appeared to be directed only to me. Fiona Charm was the beauty editor.

  "This is weird," I said. "It says that I'll be able to work with the supermodel right here in Jeffersonville. I don't get it. How did this happen?"

  I heard what sounded like snickers and looked up from the letter. Josh's and Andy's faces were red, and they were covering their mouths with their hands as if they were trying really hard not to laugh.

  2

  “What do you guys know about this?" I asked.

  "Us?" Andy answered innocently. "Nothing."

  "Give me a break," I muttered.

  "I know!" Amber realized. "They must have entered you in the contest!"

  "How?" I asked, knowing my friends weren't exactly the types who read Supermodel Today magazine.

  "At the mall," said Josh.

  "There was a poster for the contest in some store," added Andy.

  "But we never thought you'd win," concluded Josh, with a big grin.

  "Who's the model you're supposed to be the assistant to?" Jessica asked.

  I looked back at the pink letter. "Doesn't say."

  "What supermodel would want to come to Jeffersonville?" Amber asked. "This is the middle of nowhere."

  "Maybe she's so dumb she doesn't know that," Jessica cracked. "After all, they're not exactly known for their brains."

  "Whoa!" said Andy. "That's a gross generalization."

  Josh wagged a finger at my sister. "You're being very unfair."

  "Oh, please." Jessica groaned. "Is it fair that they're all six feet tall and skinny and gorgeous? Is it fair that they get paid millions of dollars just to stand around and smile? Is it fair that they travel all over the world and party with millionaires and movie stars?"

  Andy grinned. "Someone sounds seriously jealous."

  "Jealous?" Jessica repeated. "No way! Not in a zillion years would I ever be a model. I want people to admire me for my brains, not for some superficial thing like beauty."

  "Hey, you'll never have to worry about that." I winked.

  Jessica made a face. "You're s0000 not funny, Jake."

  "You really hate models that much?" Josh asked.

  "Well, I just think the whole idea is totally twisted, Jessica confirmed.

  Josh gave me the slightest smile. Suddenly I knew what he was thinking.

  "You know," I said. "Maybe I will be a super-model's assistant after all."

  3

  Jessicasmirked. "You're so full of it, Jake. You're just trying to make me mad. You wouldn't do it in a million years."

  "I sure will," I replied.

  "Not a prayer." Jessica shook her head and left the kitchen. We heard the front door slam.

  "Would you really do it?" Amber asked me after Jessica was gone.

  "Get real," I scoffed.

  "It would drive your sister totally up the wall," Josh reminded me.

  "Listen," I said. "You know I'd do just about anything to make my sister crazy."

  "Anything except be a supermodel's assistant?" Andy guessed.

  "You got it," I said.

  Amber, Josh, and Andy left a little while later. The next morning, Jessica actually did give me a ride to school. Josh and Andy were going up the walk, and I jogged to catch up to them. We

  went through the front doors. Without warning, Amanda Gluck planted herself in my path.

  "Jake, I want to speak to you in private," she said. Except for Barry Dunn, who is a major bully, Amanda is probably our worst enemy in school. It's not because she wears thick glasses or acts weird and obnoxious. She's just such a brown nosing Goody Two-shoes kiss-up that it drives my friends and me nuts.

  "O000h! Something's going on." Andy grinned. "Amanda's got a secret."

  Snork! Amanda made a strange snorting sound with her nose.

  "What was that?" Josh asked.

  "Nothing," said Amanda. But then she did it again. Snork!

  "Doesn't sound like nothing," said Andy. "Sounds like `snork.' "

  "Would you guys just go away and let me talk to Jake?" Amanda said.

  The last thing I wanted to do was speak to Amanda in private. "Look, Amanda, whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of my friends."

  Amanda came close and whispered in my ear. "It's about a certain cow that's disappeared."

  She was talking about the World's Ugliest Cross-eyed Cow, who used to live in a shed behind the school. At one time, for reasons too complicated to explain here, my friends and I had to

  turn her into the World's Ugliest Cross-eyed Vampire Cow.
Now she lived in the woods and only came out at night to drink . . . well, whatever cross-eyed vampire cows like to drink.

  "Catch you later, Jakey-poo," Josh teased.

  " `Snork,' Amanda," said Andy.

  With big grins on their faces, my friends left. "So what about the cow?" I asked.

  Snork! Amanda made that sound with her nose again.

  "What is that?" I asked.

  "It's just a stupid nervous habit," Amanda said. "My mom says it'll go away. Now, about the cow, Jake. Sometimes at night she shows up in my backyard."

  I can't say I was shocked. Amanda and the World's Ugliest Cross-eyed Cow had once had a special relationship. It wasn't surprising since Amanda couldn't relate at all to people. And as much as my friends and I teased Amanda, I actually felt kind of bad that she'd lost the only true friend she'd ever had.

  "Well, Amanda," I said, "I guess she misses you. The good news is that she still likes you enough to visit."

  Amanda frowned. "There's something you're not telling me, Jake. And that reminds me of something else. Remember WrestleInsanity?"

  I felt a shiver race down my spine. That was the night Andy, Mr. Dirksen, and I all switched bodies with professional wrestlers.

  "I thought you had amnesia," I said.

  "I did at first, but now my memory's starting to come back," Amanda said. "I remember you and Andy and Mr. Dirksen weren't in your seats. At the same time, No Nerve Nelson, No Neck Nelson, and The Brainiac were all acting completely strange. Like they'd forgotten how to wrestle."

  Amanda gave me a very suspicious look. "I'm really starting to wonder, Jake. It's almost as if you have some way of changing things. Maybe even switching bodies."

  I put both hands behind my back and crossed my fingers. "Amanda," I said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

  4

  The bell rang and it was time to head for homeroom. For the next two periods it felt like a typical school day. But then I got to social studies with Ms. Rogers.

  Ms. Rogers is this really cute teacher who my friends and I all like. She's married to our science teacher, Mr. Dirksen, who invented the DITS.

  "Is it true, Jake?" she asked as soon as the class sat down.

  For a moment I didn't know what she was talking about. "Is what true?"

  "That you're going to be the personal assistant to Lanny Shanks," Ms. Rogers said.

  In a flash, just about every girl in the class turned and stared at me. Murmurs and whispers erupted around the room.

  "The supermodel?" Julia Saks realized.

  "She was on the cover of Vogue last month," added Alex Silver.

  "How do you know?" Andy asked him.

  Alex turned red. "I, er, my mom reads it."

  "Isn't she the one who just got that zillion-dollar deal with Poseur Cosmetics?" asked Amber.

  "And Angus Bangus of Power Strum is her boyfriend," said Alex. Power Strum was a mad cool band, and Angus was their lead singer.

  "Let me guess," said Josh. "You read that in your mom's Vogue, too?"

  "Actually, it was in People," Alex admitted.

  Meanwhile, Julia pulled a copy of Teen People magazine out of her backpack. "It says here that Lanny and Angus recently took the Pledge of Veg."

  "The what?" asked Andy.

  "It's this vegetarian thing all the big stars are doing," Julia reported. "To honor all living things, they won't eat anything that's been killed."

  "But plants are living things that have to be killed to be eaten," Andy pointed out.

  "Plants don't have brains," said Barry Dunn, the bully.

  "Then you must be a plant, Barry," said Josh.

  Barry gritted his teeth and made a claw with his hand. It was the sign of the Monkey Bite, a form of torture that Barry specialized in.

  Suddenly the PA over the door burst on. "Ms. Rogers?"

  "Yes?" our teacher answered.

  "Is Jake Sherman in your room?"

  "He is," said Ms. Rogers.

  "Please send him to Principal Blanco's office immediately."

  5

  Once again, everyone in the class stared at me. "Uh-oh." Alex Silver grinned. "Maybe you won't get to be Lanny Shanks's personal assistant after all."

  "What do you think Blanco wants?" Andy asked.

  "The question isn't what Blanco wants," said Julia. "The question is, What did Jake do?"

  "I didn't do anything," I sputtered.

  "You better go," said Ms. Rogers.

  I left the room and started down the hall to the office. I really couldn't figure out what I'd done. Inside the office, Ms. Hub, Principal Blanco's old, white-haired secretary, told me to sit down and wait. A few moments later the door to Principal Blanco's office opened. Principal Blanco is short and pudgy with curly black hair. He gave me a stern look. "Come in, Jake."

  He closed the door behind me and then went around to his desk. I sat down. Principal Blanco

  cupped his hands on his desk and stared silently at me. My heart was pounding. Whatever I'd done, it must have been really serious.

  "Jake, how long have we known each other?" he asked.

  "Uh, since the beginning of sixth grade," I answered.

  "And how often would you say you've been sent down here to see me?"

  "Uh, about once every two weeks?" I guessed.

  Principal Blanco nodded. "And in all that time, have I always treated you fairly and given you the benefit of every possible doubt?"

  "I guess," I replied a little uncertainly. I really couldn't figure out what he was getting at. Principal Blanco gave me a grave and serious look. He'd never acted like this before. My heart started to beat even harder and my chest felt so tight I could hardly breathe.

  "Can you trust me to always be fair with you?" he asked.

  "I guess," I answered.

  Principal Blanco shook his head. "I need more assurance than that, Jake. More than you guess."

  "Uh, okay," I said. "Sure, I can trust you to be fair with me. So what's this all about?"

  Principal Blanco leaned forward. "If you can trust me, Jake, would it be fair for me to assume that I can trust you?"

  "Uh, sure," I said.

  "Are you absolutely certain?" Principal Blanco asked.

  "Yes."

  "Will you give me your word?" My principal held out his hand. "Let's shake on it."

  "What are we shaking on?" I asked.

  "That I have your word that I can trust you," Principal Blanco replied. "Remember, Jake, a man's word is his, uh . . . I forget, but it's important."

  "Er, right," I agreed. This had to be the most bizarre thing ever.

  "So we trust each other." Principal Blanco leaned back in his chair and pulled a long gray cardboard tube out from under his desk. He slid it across the blotter to me.

  "What's this?" I asked.

  "The swimsuit poster."

  "Huh?"

  "The Lanny Shanks swimsuit poster."

  6

  Ilooked at the gray tube and back at my principal. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

  Principal Blanco gazed at me as if I was as dumb as a tree stump. "Get it autographed, Jake. And it would be nice if it said something special. You know, not just her signature, but something like . . ." He leaned back in his chair, rubbed his chin, and gazed at the ceiling.

  He seemed to be having trouble thinking of something, so I decided to help. "Like something to your daughter?"

  Principal Blanco shook his head. "I don't have a daughter."

  "Then it's for your wife?" I guessed.

  "Heaven forbid!" Principal Blanco placed his hands flat on his desk. "She's not to know anything about this. Do you understand, Jake?"

  I nodded, but the truth was, I didn't understand at all. "Who's it for?"

  Principal Blanco gazed steadily back at me.

  "You gave me your word, Jake. We shook on it. Do I have your complete trust?"

  "Sure, but — "

  "No buts, Jake. Do I have your word or not?"
>
  "Er, yes."

  "Good." Principal Blanco sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

  "I don't get it," I said.

  Principal Blanco raised one eyebrow. "Think about it, Jake."

  I still couldn't figure out what he was getting at. "Is it for a niece?"

  Principal Blanco let out a big sigh. "It's for me, Jake."

  It took me a few seconds to understand. Then I had to clench my teeth and press my lips together really hard to keep from smiling.

  "We were talking about what Lanny could write on the poster," Principal Blanco reminded me.

  "Maybe 'To Principal Blanco —' "

  "No." Principal Blanco shook his head. "Not `Principal' anything. I want it to be personal."

  "I hear you," I said. "How about 'To my favorite school administrator'?"

  "No, no, no!" Principal Blanco slapped his hand against the desk. "I've got it! 'To Blancy Wancy, with hugs and kisses.' " He leaned forward on the desk again. "Can you remember that, Jake?"

  "It'll be hard to forget, Principal Blanco," I said.

  "All right." He nodded. "You may go."

  Igot up and started to leave.

  "Uh, Jake?" Principal Blanco said. "Ithink you forgot something." He held up the tube with the poster inside.

  "Oops! Sorry." Itook it and left.

  7

  Okay, so maybe Principal Blanco had a "thing" forone of the world's most beautiful and famous women. That wasn't so weird, was it?

  Well, frankly, yes.

  And that wasn't the only weird thing that happened. For the rest of the day, Burp It Up Middle School was gripped with "Lanny fever."

  And guess who was at the red-hot center of it all?

  At every class change, bunches of giggling sixth- and seventh-grade girls stopped me in the hall to ask if I was really going to meet Lanny Shanks. Guys gave me knowing winks and muttered stuff about how lucky Iwas. Even the teachers were into it.

  "How's it feel to be the most popular kid in school?" Andy asked at lunchtime as he, Josh, and Iheaded down the hall toward the cafetorium.

  "Different," Ianswered.

  "That's for sure." Josh smirked.

  A sixth-grader with red hair and glasses came up to us and held out a pad of paper and a pen.