Gravity Read Online Free PDF

myself as gracefully as a dolphin.
    THE NEXT MORNING I lie in the hammock watching a squirrel scamper up the maple tree. It runs down a branch and leaps onto the top of the bird feeder. Chickadees and cardinals flutter away. The squirrel’s claws scrape furiously on the green plastic, sliding over the edge to the ground. The feeder swings wildly. I turn over in the hammock, and the squirrel darts away.
    I hear splashing down at the dock. I roll over and prop up my head. Lindsay hauls a fishing rod and tackle out of her canoe. I pretend not to see her.
    She wears a tank top over a black bathing suit, her hair in a tight ponytail at the base of her neck. Long strands drift around her head when she walks toward me.
    “Hi,” she says.
    I don’t move. “Hi.”
    Lindsay puts down the tackle box, props the rod against a tree. “I thought we’d go fishing.”
    “No, thanks.”
    “Oh, come on.” Lindsay leans one hip against the rope of the hammock, making it swing.
    I take a big breath. “I thought you’d have better things to do.” Like strip.
    Lindsay doesn’t say anything for a moment. She slaps a mosquito away from her shoulder. Finally she says, “My mom’s boyfriend just came.”
    “So?”
    Lindsay shrugs. “He’s gross.”
    I flip back over. “How?”
    “He’s creepy and annoying.”
    “Really?” I flip my legs sideways in the hammock to face Lindsay. “How long is he staying?”
    She sighs and leans against the maple tree. “Until we leave, or hopefully only until his fax situation becomes urgent. Then he’ll have to drive at least to Kingston.”
    “Why don’t you like him?”
    “He’s greasy and way younger than my mom. He’ll be gone in a month or so. There’ll be some other sleazy guy after that. Anyway, I brought you some clothes.” Lindsay pulls a pair of jean shorts and a tank top out of a plastic shopping bag. “Here, you can have these.”
    I get out of the hammock and hold up the clothes. “What for?”
    “To wear, stupid.” She punches me on the arm. “They’re too small for me.”
    “Are you sure?”
    Lindsay cracks her gum. “I can’t get the waist done up anymore.”
    I hesitate, looking at the clothes. I have always wanted to wear shorts in the summer, instead of my baggy skirt, but I can’t imagine my naked thighs or bare shoulders.
    “Are you sure you don’t need these anymore?”
    Lindsay nods. “Are you changing or what?”
    I stare at Lindsay’s enormous blueish green eyes. She returns my gaze without flinching.
    Lindsay follows me up to the cottage. I scoot into the bedroom to change, try to get the door closed before she comes in, but she plunks herself down on the patchwork bedspread and picks Linnaeus off the night table. I wedge myself beside the only piece of furniture, the pine chest with the cranberry glass lamp, and pull on the shorts before taking off my skirt. The denim cutoffs rest loosely on my hips. I stare down at my slightly hairy, bare pale legs.
    “Aren’t you going to put on the top?” she asks.
    I look at it laid out on the bed. “I...I might burn.”
    “Sunblock.”
    “I haven’t shaved.”
    “Who cares, it’s a cottage.”
    I turn around, take a breath, yank off my T-shirt and pull on the tank top. Ellie, you could have just said, I don’t wear tank tops.
    “There, that’s better,” Lindsay says, popping a bubble. “You can’t fish in a skirt. Well, you can, but it’s weird.”
    The tank top is thick white cotton. It’s plain, fitted, a little faded. I feel naked.
    “What does your necklace say?” Lindsay comes up close to me. I can smell the peppermint of her gum, the soapy smell of shampoo.
    I gulp. “Oh, it’s Hebrew.”
    Lindsay lifts the Star of David off my skin, peers at it closely. “What does the writing mean?”
    “It says Zion, love for Israel.”
    Lindsay drops the charm. Her fingers graze my collarbone, my skin tingling.
    “I wish I had long legs like yours,” she says.
    “Too skinny,” I say,