‘OK,’ Brandon said. ‘Except… you are.’

‘I’m not,’ I insisted. ‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on any more than you two seem to. But seriously, I’m not Nikki.’

‘But how is that even possible?’ Lulu wanted to know. She came around the kitchen island… and I noticed what she was carrying — food. Lots of food.

And that the smell coming from the food was sublime.

Which didn’t make any sense, because when I saw what the food was — after she’d put it down on the white marble-topped coffee table in front of me — I could see it wasn’t anything I’d ever get excited over… in the past anyway. Just the promised blackened sea bass — which, being fish, I shouldn’t like. A bowl of soup — it looked like warmed-up leftover miso, judging by the bits of tofu and seaweed floating in it, and which, again, yuck. I completely hate tofu, let alone seaweed. All this was accompanied by a cup of green tea.

I totally hate green tea.

But apparently Nikki Howard doesn’t, because the next thing I knew, I was gulping that tea down. And a second after that, I’d started in on the sea bass and the miso soup.

And all of it was the most delicious food I can ever remember eating.

Don’t think Lulu and Brandon didn’t notice, either. They looked at how I was stuffing my face, and Lulu went, almost admiringly, ‘The blackened sea bass from Nobu always was your favourite.’

That was enough to make me put my fork down. Although of course the truth was that by then the fish was all gone anyway. And I’d put a pretty good dent in the soup too.

‘You guys,’ I said. ‘Come on. Obviously I’m not Nikki Howard. I mean, I didn’t even know who you two were at first. I’ve seen you in magazines and all, but… I don’t know anything about you.’

Brandon looked sadly at Lulu. ‘She pushed me away when I kissed her.’

Lulu threw me a shocked look. ‘Nikki! Way to be a bitch!’

I felt myself blushing to my hairline. If only they knew the truth, that pushing him away was the last thing I’d wanted to do…

‘But that’s what I’m trying to tell you!’ I cried. ‘I’m not Nikki Howard! I’m Emerson Watts — honest, I really am.’

‘I know, Nikki,’ Lulu said, laying a sympathetic hand on my arm.

‘That’s why we’re staging this intervention. To help you remember who you really are — which isn’t this Emerson Watts person. Look —’ she bent over and pulled a black portfolio out from beneath the couch — ‘I have your book. I know this will spark some memories.’

She turned it to the first page, where there was a tearsheet from a magazine ad featuring Nikki Howard in a poofy prom dress jumping into the air from a trampoline. ‘This is from your first ever shoot for Stark Enterprises, when you were just starting out. Remember? This was before we met, when Rebecca first brought you to New York. You remember Rebecca, right? Your agent?’ When I looked at her blankly, she prodded, ‘You must remember getting signed by Ford. They said you were the most professional fifteen-year-old they’d ever represented. They said you were way more mature than most of their twenty-year-old models.’

‘Uh,’ I said. ‘I told you. I’m not Nikki. I’m Emerson Watts—’

‘Emerson Watts.’ Brandon’s eyebrows were knitted. He was concentrating… which you could tell for him wasn’t all that easy.

‘Emerson Watts. Why does that name sound so familiar to me?’

‘Shh,’ Lulu said to him. ‘Don’t confuse her.’ She turned a page in the portfolio. ‘Look, Nikki. Look at this. This is from your first runway show with Chanel. Remember, I was sitting in the front row? And at the party afterwards I asked you if those lace-up gladiator stilettos hurt, and you said they hurt like a mo—’

‘Emerson Watts,’ Brandon said again. Now his expression suggested that he was in pain. But only from concentrating so hard. ‘Seriously I’ve heard that name before… ’

‘Ignore him,’ Lulu said to me, and turned the page. ‘He’s just tired. He was up all night last night dancing at Cave. Oh, look! Here’s your first Victoria’s Secret spread!’

I stared down at the pictures, holding Cosabella close (she didn’t seem at all inclined to leave my lap. Ever. Which I didn’t mind. I liked the way her fluttering little heartbeat felt against my thighs. Or, er, Nikki Howard’s thighs. There was something comforting about this little creature that seemed to absolutely adore me. Who cared if who she really adored was Nikki Howard?).

Looking at the pictures, I recognized the body I’d just seen in the bathroom mirror a little while ago. In the air-brushed ad for lingerie, that body looked even more perfect than it had in the mirror.

It seemed weird to me that, if Lulu Collins was really trying to jog my memory, she’d show me Nikki Howard’s portfolio, and not a family album.

But of course, given the context — that I was apparently a normal eleventh-grader trapped in the body of one of the world’s most famous supermodels — maybe it wasn’t that weird after all. Maybe, under the circumstances, hoping to make me remember who I really was by showing me pictures of myself in a diamond-encrusted bra wasn’t the worst strategy.

‘Oh,’ Lulu said, turning the page. ‘Here’s your first print ad for your new clothing line! See how pretty you look there? Your eyes are the same colour as those sapphires… That’s not even photoshopped, you know. Your eyes really are that colour—’

‘I know!’ Brandon cried suddenly, startling us both — and Cosabella, who lifted her little head from my knee and cocked it at him inquisitively. ‘Emerson Watts! That was the girl who got hit by the plasma screen at the grand opening of my dad’s new store in SoHo.’

I blinked. The words plasma and screen triggered something deep within the recesses of my mind. Dimly — like a dream I’d had long ago – the memory of the day Christopher and I had taken Frida to the grand opening of the Stark Megastore came back to me… just a trickle at first… then a flood.

‘Yes!’ I cried, clapping my hands and startling Cosabella a little. ‘Yes! That was me! I’m Emerson Watts! I was there that day!’

‘So was I!’ Lulu squeaked, her dark eyes widening. ‘Oh my God! That was so horrible! Nikki, do you remember now? You fainted!’

‘I’m not Nikki,’ I reminded her. ‘I’m Emerson Watts. I’m the one who got hit by the plasma screen.’

‘And, Nikki, you like totally passed out,’ Lulu said, ignoring me. ‘And that Gabriel Luna guy ran over and he totally like cradled you in his arms, but he couldn’t wake you up. No one could. And the paramedics came and… ’ Lulu swung her head around to stare at me accusingly. And that’s the last time I saw you! Kelly said you’d been diagnosed with hypoglycaemia, and were taking some time off to try to get it under control. But I knew that wasn’t true. I mean, for one thing, you’d never said anything to me about having hypoglycaemia. Acid reflux, maybe. But not hypoglycaemia. And also because no way would you take time off without telling me where you were going. And no way would you leave Cosy behind.’

I looked down at the little dog on my lap. No. There was no way anyone would leave Cosy behind.

Not if she’d had a choice.

And no way would you not call me,’ Brandon added. And when I glanced at him, I saw that he was looking at me in a way that… well, no guy had ever looked at me before.

Except possibly for Gabriel Luna, that night in the hospital.

Only-I realized with a sudden pang of disappointment — it hadn’t been ME Gabriel had been looking at like that at all.

It had been Nikki Howard. Nikki Howard, whom he’d supposedly cradled in his arms after she’d passed out at the Stark Megastore grand opening, then later visited in her hospital room.

Of course! How could I have been so stupid? How could I ever have thought Gabriel Luna would bring me flowers? Those flowers hadn’t been for me.

They’d been for Nikki Howard.

God. How naive could a person be? What guy would ever look at a girl like me — a normal girl — when a girl like Nikki Howard was around? Even Christopher hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her the whole time she’d been within sight range, back at the Stark Megastore. And Christopher isn’t the type to fall for a pretty face. I mean, Christopher has always laughed at Whitney and the other Walking Dead at TAHS.