Girls in Pants: The Third Summer of the Sisterhood Read Online Free PDF

to what the kid wanted.
    “Did you ever eat one?” Katherine asked.
    Tibby hadn’t ever eaten one, but she didn’t feel like getting argued to the ropes by a three-year-old. “I’m telling you, they’re gross. If they were good, wouldn’t we all be eating them instead of buying apples from the bin at the A&P?”
    Katherine seemed to find this kind of logic depressing. “I still want to try one.”
    Tibby sat there, watching Katherine sizing up the apple tree. She was too small to reach even the lowest branch, but she was undeterred. She backed up ten or so yards from the trunk of the tree, ran as fast as she could, and jumped. Her attempt was so meager and ineffective it was almost heartbreaking.
    Katherine backed up for another go. She backed up farther this time for optimum speed. She ran with her arms bent tight at her elbows in a caricature of sprinting. It was so cute, objectively speaking, that one part of Tibby longed to get it on camera.
    But at the same time, Tibby was annoyed. She indulged herself in pettiness. She did not want to babysit. She was annoyed with her mother. If she were to let herself be absorbed into Katherine’s world, it would be almost like enjoying babysitting. Which she didn’t.
    So Tibby watched. Katherine was inexhaustible. Why did she want the damn apples so much? Tibby couldn’t imagine the nature of her desire.
    But Tibby could remember being small and wanting to jump, running and jumping just like Katherine, and imagining you were going to practically take flight—thinking you could jump so much higher than you really could.
     
    The first thing Bridget did when she got to soccer camp was find Diana. They’d spoken on the phone and exchanged many e-mails, but Bridget hadn’t seen Diana in two years—not since the day they’d left Baja. And of all the things and people she’d encountered there, Diana stood out as her single happy memory.
    When she found her in their cabin, she screamed and hugged Diana so hard she lifted her off the ground.
    “God.” Diana examined Bee’s face. She stepped back. “You look great. You grew?”
    “You shrunk?” Bee asked back.
    “Ha.”
    Bridget tossed her gigantic duffel bag onto her bunk. She wasn’t big on folding or sorting. She used to pack in Hefty bags, but Carmen made her stop.
    She hugged Diana again and admired her. Diana had kept her hair straightened two summers ago, but now she’d let it collect into long, pretty dreads. It looked unbelievably glamorous to Bee. “Look how you are! You are stunning and fabulous! Do you love Cornell?”
    Diana hugged back. “Yeah, except I live and breathe soccer. You’ll see how it is.”
    “You had time to find Michael, though, right? Did you bring a picture?”
    Bridget exclaimed and swore appreciatively at the picture of Diana’s good-looking soccer-playing boyfriend and also at the pictures of her hilariously hammy younger sisters.
    “So who else is here?” Bridget asked, gesturing at the second set of bunk beds in the cramped cabin.
    “Two assistant coaches.” Diana got a vague look on her face.
    “You met them?” Bridget asked.
    “At lunch. Katie and Something,” she said. She closed one eye, trying to remember. “Allison. I think. Katie and Allison.”
    Bridget sensed an issue. “And they are…?”
    “Fine. Great.”
    “Fine and great? Katie and Allison are fine and great?”
    Diana smiled. Vaguely.
    “So what’s the problem?”
    “What problem?”
    “Why do you look like that?”
    “Like what?” Diana asked, glancing downward.
    Bee felt impatient. Diana was an honest person. Why wasn’t she being honest now?
    Diana pulled a hair elastic off her wrist and stretched it between her index finger and thumb. “You haven’t…met the other coaches yet. Have you?”
    Diana’s words came slow, and Bee’s came very fast. “No. Have you?”
    “Uh. Not all of them. But I saw…” Something about Diana’s hair elastic was so fascinating her words trailed off in