Liar Liar Read Online Free PDF Page A

Ross!”
    â€œWe have more serious problems to talk about,” Mom said, sighing. “Let’s drop the twin talk.” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. She raised it to her mouth and took a long drink.
    â€œBut I saw a kid who looks just like me,” I said. “I mean, exactly like me. He could have been my twin!”
    Mom took another drink, then shoved the bottle back into the fridge. “Were you looking in a mirror?”
    I rolled my eyes again. “Ha ha. Another good one, Mom. Remind me to laugh later.”
    â€œI’m going to bed,” Mom said. She clicked off the kitchen lights and started out of the room.
    â€œNo, wait.” I hurried after her. “I really did see my twin.”
    As Mom turned back, she looked troubled and sad. “Ross, what am I going to do with you?” she whispered. “You really can’t go two minutes without making up a story.”
    I felt my anger rise. I balled my hands into tight fists at my sides. “I’m not making this up,” I screamed. “It’s the truth!”
    I pushed Jake out of the way and ran up to my room.
    I couldn’t get to sleep that night. I kept thinking about that boy swimming toward me in Max’s pool. I kept picturing the angry expression on his face. I kept seeing him mouth the words Go away .
    And then he vanished.
    And I kept thinking about Cindy and Sharma. How angry they were over a simple mix-up.
    Mom’s words kept repeating in my mind: “I don’t think you know the difference between the truth and a lie.”
    That was crazy. Totally wrong.
    But how could I prove it to her?
    Finally I drifted into a restless sleep. I dreamed that I was running through an endless field of tall grass, being chased by Cindy and Sharma. They were waving their arms furiously, calling to me, shouting their lungs out—but I couldn’t hear them. And I couldn’t stop running through the tall grass.
    I was awakened by voices.
    I sat straight up in bed, breathing hard. My pajama shirt clung wetly to my skin.
    I glanced at my clock radio. Two o’clock in the morning.
    Who was talking at this time of night? I held my breath and listened hard.
    The voices came from downstairs. I heard a woman’s voice. She was speaking loudly, sharply. But I couldn’t make out her words.
    Had Dad come home early from his shoot? Were he and Mom talking down there?
    I slid out of bed and tiptoed to the hall. Nearly to the stairs, I stopped and listened again.
    It was dark downstairs. No lights on in the living room. They must be in the kitchen, I realized.
    The woman was talking. It was Mom. I recognized her voice.
    I leaned into the stairwell to try to make out her words.
    â€œAre you going crazy or something?”
    That’s what she said. She didn’t sound angry. She sounded worried.
    â€œYou don’t have a twin,” she said. “No twin. Why would you say such a crazy thing?”
    And then I heard a boy answer.
    â€œBut I saw him!” the boy said. “Really. I saw him.”
    I let out a low gasp. I gripped the banister to keep from falling.
    The boy …
    The boy … had MY voice!

“I’m not making it up,” the boy said—in my voice. “I saw him, and he saw me.”
    â€œIt’s late. We should be asleep,” Mom said. “Come on. Turn off the lights.”
    â€œWhy don’t you believe me?” the boy demanded shrilly.
    Gripping the banister, I realized my whole body was trembling.
    How can he have my voice? Who is he? Why is Mom talking to him in the middle of the night?
    I had to see what was going on. I took a step—and stumbled.
    My bare foot slid over the wooden stair, and I started to fall, tumbling down step by step.
    A painful thud with each step.
    I landed hard on my elbows and knees. My heart pounding, I waited for the pain to stop. And listened for approaching footsteps, for cries of