A & L Do Summer Read Online Free PDF

to deal with the Snout Sisters by yourself.”
    Laurel shoves her sweaty bangs out of her eyes. “How do you know they’re sisters? They could be guy pigs.”
    â€œYou are such a city girl.” Although this is the only time outside of the Iowa State Fair I’ve seen a pig in person.
    â€œIf you know so much, then answer me.” Laurel peers at me under her lowered eyelids.
    The best defense is slinging a load of bull. “What are you, a sex ed dropout? Guy animals have penises; those pigs don’t. End of discussion.” I can’t believe we’re outside the teachers’ lounge at one thirty in the morning arguing over pig genitals.
    â€œI never knew you were such a perv!” Laurel hoots. “I’m trying to avoid being trampled by wild killer pigs and you’re checking them for penises. Gross!”
    After I get Laurel off the subject of pig parts, we review our predicament. Now that Carmine is trapped in the lounge, the pigs are showing an unseemly interest in us. Their mouths are open, and they’re snuffling toward us at an alarming pace. I’m pretty sure one of them is salivating.
    â€œDo pigs bite?” Laurel asks. She ducks behind me and watches their approach over my shoulder.
    A quick sidestep puts me behind her. “How should I know? My dad’s an insurance agent, not Old MacDonald.”
    Laurel tries to get around me again, but I block her with my elbow. “They’re still coming. What should we do?”
    When did I become the freaking pig guru? “They look hungry. Hold out your arm and see what they do.”
    Carmine woofs from inside the teachers’ lounge, and Laurel’s eyes light up. “Wait. Carmine was more interested in water than food. The pigs probably are, too!” She pounds my shoulder, knocking me against the wall. “Think about it. The poor things were pig-napped and shoved up a flight of stairs. Then Carmine chased them all over the place. They’re probably dying of thirst.”
    Laurel’s moods shift at mind-blowing speed. Two minutes ago these were wild killer pigs. Now she’s feeling sorry for them. But a good idea is a good idea. “If I’m right—and I know I am—we just fill a container with water,” she continues, “and our three bacon bits follow it right out the door.”
    A flashbulb goes off in my brain. “Or right into the elevator, which has to be easier than persuading them to walk down the steps.”
    I leave Laurel minding the pigs while I raid the lounge for water containers. Now that I’m not wrestling Carmine, I notice that the lounge is cramped and dingy with walls the same yellowish brown as the pig deposits on the floor outside. In the middle of the room is a scarred-up table surrounded by eight mismatched cafeteria chairs. A refrigerator older than my grandmother stands beside the bathroom door. Carmine is stretched out on a sagging couch with his head on the arm nearest the door. When I walk in, he opens his eyes and yawns.
    â€œGo back to sleep, troublemaker.” Carmine groans and his eyes droop shut. Why doesn’t he obey like that when I ask him to do something important?
    At least I don’t have to waste time looking for a water bowl. A stainless-steel bowl half-filled with popcorn is sitting on the countertop beside the sink. As I pick it up, three cockroaches—one of them bigger than my thumb—scamper out of the leftovers. They dive over the rim of the bowl and disappear into the crack between the counter and the wall.
    My teeth clench against a scream. Pig poop and cockroaches. What’s next? Holding the bowl with two fingers, I prepare to dump the bug-ridden popcorn into the trash can. Then I stop. Maybe the pigs are hungry. A few cockroaches won’t bother them. I find a grocery sack under the sink, pour in the popcorn, and fill the greasy bowl with water.
    With the sack crushed in my armpit and