Calamity Jayne Rides Again Read Online Free PDF Page A

Especially Taylor,
     a full-ride scholarship recipient studying psychology in her second year at the University of Iowa. She's also gorgeous enough
     to be on the front of magazines that have nothing whatsoever in common with Psychology Today and everything to do with perfect teeth, perfect hair, and perfect hooters. Deep sigh.
    I'm not really envious. At least, not as much as I used to be when I pretended I wasn't. How can I explain it? I'm like the
     scrawny freshman who'd really rather hide in the locker room than be a skin in a game of shirts-and-skins with guys who have
     six-packs. Of course, said scrawny freshman doesn't want to admit such insecurity. So the scrawny freshman volunteers to be
     a skin and proceeds to act like an outlandish ass to prove he doesn't feel inadequate at all. Is this clear as chocolate syrup
     or what?
    Really, guys, I love my little sis. I do. I just try to avoid being in the same area code as much as possible. And I'm kind
     of afraid that once she gets a few more psych courses under her belt she'll figure I'd make a wonderful research project.
    I slapped at a few more pesky skeeters and wished for a jug of Deet. The campground was hushed and quiet due to the late hour.
     Many of the campers would be up in three hours and eager for that first cup of coffee and bag of fresh, hot mini donuts—a
     personal favorite of mine as well.
    I headed for my folks' Jayco travel trailer, which is capable of sleeping five people in various stages of discomfort. I always
     get stuck in the coffin. You know, the bed that hugs the ceiling and forces you to slide in and out sideways? I always feel
     like Dracula at rest. Or, in my case, I suppose, Akasha, Queen of the Damned— without the impressive set of jugs, of course.
     I'd never fit in the coffin with anything bigger than a B-cup.
    This night, however, I would have the queen-sized bed all to myself—unless, of course, that hunky cowboy I'd daydreamed about
     earlier decided to make my wildest cowgirl dreams come true. I yawned, realizing that even a naked cowboy couldn't keep me
     awake tonight. Jeesh, was I in bad shape or what?
    Uncle,Frank's big tan RV, parked in an adjacent space, was dark. My folks and Aunt Reggie would arrive the next morning with
     my grandma in tow. I rapped on the nearest window, figuring Frankie was inside pretending to be asleep so he wouldn't get
     a butt-chewing from Uncle Frank in the wee hours.
    "Frankie?" I said in a low voice, so as not to rouse the interest and ire of the neighbors. "Frankie?" I went to another window
     and rapped again. "Frankie?" I tried the door, but it was locked.
    Bone-tired, I shuffled next door to my parents' trailer, opened the door, and switched on the lights, half expecting to see
     more brazen bugs skitter to safety. I moved through the tiny living room area, switched on the air conditioner, then shut
     off the light and headed back to the bedroom. I collapsed onto the bed, facedown, and let out a long groan. Man, oh, man,
     was I beat.
    I kicked off my sandals and lay there a couple minutes, savoring the soft pillow and mattress, reveling in the pure delight
     of being off my feet. I rolled over on my side, reached for an extra pillow to be my hunky cowboy surrogate ... and grabbed
     hold of a nose—a long one, if touch counted for anything.
    A squeal sounded, but I wasn't sure if it was from me or the nose. I rolled off the opposite side of the bed, switched on
     the light, and gasped.
    "Frankie?"
    "I think you broke by doze!" my cousin's muffled, nasally voice responded.
    Whoa there, Nellie. Don't blame me for the nose twang. Frankie's always had a nasal thing going. I've actually gotten used
     to it. Others find it a bit off-putting. It sounds like he's perpetually whining.
    "What are you doing here, Frankie?" I asked, my erotic dreams of the Marlboro man cruelly dispelled by the stark contrast
     of my nerdy cousin reclining on the bed holding a pink tissue to his nose.
    "Is it