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whipped cream on top! Frank, can you hear me?”
    â€œMaggie!” bellows Frank, coming into focus behind me. He’s wearing a black, furry bathrobe and has a towel wrapped turban-style on his head. You know, like a genie. I can’t help it, I whip around again—but of course, he’s not there.
    â€œOr should I say Miss Starr ,” Frank-in-the-mirror says with a laugh.
    â€œWhat…is…happening?” I ask in a panic.
    â€œYeah, well, we didn’t really get to go over the details of those Mostly Magical Boots,” Frank says with a sigh.
    â€œYou think ?” I ask. “Maybe you could fill me in now. Wait, is that a rubber duck in your hand?”
    â€œYou caught me just getting out of the bath, what can I say?” Frank says. “But we don’t really have time for stories, Maggie. The mostly magical part of the boots is that when you put them on and say the magic words, you get to step into somebody’s life for a day.”
    â€œ What magic words? ” I ask. “You didn’t tell me anything about magic words! What did I say? And how did I get here?”
    â€œYou wished for somebody else’s life,” Frank says simply. “Whenever you do that while you’re wearing the MMBs, the next time you wake up, you’re her. It’s pretty simple.”
    â€œWell, that might have been some good information to give me up front!” I tell him. “So what do I do now?”
    â€œDo?” Frank laughs. “You spend a day as your favorite rock star, that’s what you do .”
    â€œBut I don’t know anything about being a rock star, Frank!” I wail.
    â€œBut you know everything about Becca Starr,” Frank tells me. “And besides, the great thing about the MMBs is that this life you’re living? It’s like it’s been yours all along.”
    â€œHuh?” I say, completely confused.
    â€œIt’s complicated, kid,” Frank says, “and we really don’t have time for a history-of-magical-boots lesson. Just trust me—and yourself. You’ll get the hang of it.”
    â€œWell, what if I don’t like it and I want to go home?” I ask.
    â€œWhat do you think this is, a taxi service?” Frank asks. “Once you’re in the boots—and in the life—you’re in, period. You wake up as that person and you go to bed as that person. When you wake up again, you’ll be the one and only Maggie Malone.”
    â€œOkay, my mom is going to totally freak out if I just disappear for a whole day!” I whimper, starting to panic even more.
    â€œRelax, Malone,” Frank says. “Time stops when you’re in the boots. Your mom will never even know you were gone.”
    â€œPromise?” I plead.
    â€œPromise,” Frank insists. “You’ve got this.”
    â€œWell, what if I need you?” I moan.
    â€œYour pocket mirror comes with you,” Frank says. “It’s in your pocket right now. Get it? Pocket mirror? I love that one.”
    I reach into the pocket of my pajama bottoms, and sure enough, it’s there. Frank is still holding his big belly and laughing when there’s a knock on the door.
    â€œYou ready, Becca?” Violet asks right through it. “We’re at the ’dome, and we’re on a tight schedule, you know.”
    â€œComing!” I shout as I watch Frank fade away before my eyes. I quickly pull on a T-shirt and pair of jeans I find folded on a shelf next to the bed and slip the mirror into my back pocket.
    You’ve got this , I repeat to myself, opening the door. Yeah, right.
    I follow Violet straight through the middle of this gigantic, fancy bus. I probably don’t have to mention that it doesn’t look like any bus I’ve ever seen. Hot pink velvet dotted with sparkly, silver stars covers the cushiony walls. There’s a kitchen off to the right that looks like it’s never