I pushed myself to go faster. What was wrong with me, anyway? Had I misinterpreted Trevor’s flirting? Was I just his second choice if Theresa didn't work out?

I took deep breaths. The black car behind me still drove so slowly that it didn’t pass by. And then I realized what I should have known all along. It was following me.

So apparently Trevor had come after me but still didn't have the courage to speak to me. I stopped walking, turned around, and waited for the car to catch up to me. Jerk. I would tell him exactly what he could do with his apology.

But the driver’s tinted window slid down to reveal a woman, probably in her early thirties. She looked like a newscaster. Shoulder-length dark hair, perfectly set, tons of makeup. She smiled over at me. "Hi, I'm Maren Pomeroy, Kari Kingsley's manager. Can we talk for a moment?"

I didn't move. In fact, the whole thing sort of freaked me out. The woman who worked for Kari Kingsley? Why was she here when she’d said she lived in California?

Ms. Pomeroy kept smiling at me. "We can go to your house, or perhaps you’d like to go to a restaurant and get something to eat?”

I took a step away from the car. "Sorry, but I don’t think my mother would like that. I mean, bringing a stranger to the house.” I took another step down the sidewalk. "Or, you know, going someplace without asking her.”

The back door swung open, and for a moment I expected some guy in a trench coat to step out and grab me. I was on the balls of my feet, ready to sprint away And then I saw Kari Kingsley sitting in the backseat. She wore a pair of tight jeans, red spiky heels, and a red halter top underneath a loosely crocheted white sweater. She took a pair of sunglasses from her eyes and slid them onto her head with apparent irritation.

"I’ve spent a long time on a plane to come see you. The least you could do is give me ten minutes of your time.”

I gaped at her. I couldn’t help it. As though she might not have known it, I said, "You're Kari Kingsley.”

"Yeah.” She slipped her sunglasses back on. "Do you want to get in the car before your little school friends come by? I didn’t plan on causing a scene."

"Oh. Sorry.” I slid into the car, put my backpack on the floor, and shut the door. I did it without even thinking about it. It was like the president of the United States had asked me to get in the car. No wonder my mother resented celebrities. You just felt compelled to do their bidding.

As soon as I shut the door, Ms. Pomeroy pulled away from the curb. "A restaurant or your house?”

"Only say your house if you’ve got something five star to eat," Kari said. "I'm hungry.”

Actually, we probably did have something good to eat, but I said, "Restaurant.” I wasn't about to bring Kari Kingsley to my run-down house or introduce her to my grandmother—seeing as the last thing Abuela had said about Kari was that she should be hit with a Bible.

Kari took her glasses off again to better survey me. I stared back at her, comparing each of her features to my own. Her nose was sharper than mine, her lips a little thinner. But the tilt of our eyes, the rise of our cheekbones, even the slope of our chins were the same. I'd seen her picture a hundred times, but it was still surreal to see my face on a stranger; like gazing into a mirror - well... a sophisticated blond mirror.

“So do you look this way naturally?” she asked. "Or did you go to a plastic surgeon and tell him to put my face on yours?”

I nearly laughed at the image that painted—me strolling into a plastic surgeon and picking out lips and cheekbones like they were ingredients on a pizza. “It’s all natural.”

She leaned back in her seat, shaking her head. "Sheesh, you look more like me than I do.”

I didn’t think that was possible, but I didn’t challenge her on it.

“I actually have brown hair,” she said. "My mom was Mexican.”

I liked her more right then. Even though her life had been nothing like mine, we had something in common.

"So is my mom," I said. “¿Hablas espanol?"

She shook her head. "My mom died when I was baby, and my dad,” she gave a dismissive shrug, "he only knows enough Spanish to give instructions to the cleaning ladies. It sort of ticks me off now that it’s chic to be Latina.”

"Really, it’s chic now? I must have missed that announcement.”

Kari laughed and then glanced out the window at the row of small houses we passed. "You've lived here too long. In California nobody cares what color you are so long as you're beautiful.”

“Oh. Well, that's a much better system.” I was being sarcastic, but I'm not sure Kari picked up on this. She nodded as though she agreed with me.

From the front seat Ms. Pomeroy said, “Kari, why don’t we go back to the hotel. That way you can order room service and talk privately.”

The hotel. Oh, no. I knew as soon as she said it that we'd go to the Waterfront Place, where my mom worked. It was the nicest hotel in Morgantown.

My stomach clenched. I wasn’t even sure what worried me more, the fact that my mom might see me walk in with Ms. Pomeroy and Kari Kingsley after she’d already turned down their job offer, or the fact that I might have to introduce Ms. Pomeroy and Kari Kingsley to my mom while she wore her housekeeping uniform.

I knew without them having to tell me that they had come to reoffer the job. They didn't have another reason to be here.

"Actually, there are some good restaurants in Morgantown,” I said.

Kari waved off my suggestion with a set of immaculate red nails. "We shouldn’t be seen together in public. Maren told you this has to be kept secret, right?”

Before I could answer, Ms. Pomeroy said, "I told her.” Her eyes found mine in the rearview mirror. "You haven't told anyone about this except for your parents, have you?”

"No,” I said.

"Good," Kari said with a sigh. "Really, I shouldn't have even come, but I wanted to judge you for myself. Not that I don't trust Maren’s opinion, it's just that—"

"Flying out here gave you an excuse to abandon the studio,” Ms. Pomeroy added dryly.

Kari smiled. "Exactly. And now I'm satisfied.” Her gaze ran over me. “With a few changes, you could pass for me."

I fidgeted with the edge of my seat. "You got the e-mail from my mom where she turned you down, right?”

Kari brushed off my words. "We got it, but you can always finish high school online, you know. We’ll get you a tutor if you need one.” She tilted her head, considering me. "Although Maren tells me you’re brilliant. You even belong to the smart club.”

"National Honor Society," I said.

"Well, there you have it." She lifted a hand in my direction. "That's one of the reasons why I need you so much.”

"Need me to do what, exactly?” I asked.

"I need you to pretend to be me at some functions."

I laughed. I thought she was joking, and I waited for her to tell me what she really wanted me to do. Only she didn't.

When I'd thought about what being a double meant, I'd imagined, vaguely, that I would be used as a decoy to throw off the paparazzi when she went to events or stuff like that. Like a stunt double. Not once did I ever think she actually wanted me to pretend to be her.

"I can't do that,” I said.

"Why not?"

I leaned toward her, shaking my head. "We don't look so much alike that we’re interchangeable."

She let out a sigh and wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, I need to talk to you about that. We'll have to change your hair, and you'll need to start wearing makeup.”

"I do wear makeup," I said defensively. “Just not very much."