Second Skin Read Online Free PDF Page A

peanut butter spread over it.
    As I climbed into the backseat, Alex dropped his Ant-Man comic and turned around to look at me.
    "Ginger has a purse just like that," he said, pointing to my hair. Ginger is Alex's four-year-old sister. "I think it's called faux fur?"
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    Gwen burst out laughing.
    "You guys suck," I said, sinking back against the seat cushion. So much for popularity of the DIY variety. "Does anyone have a rubber band?"
    That was my morning. And nothing. Happened. All day. And now it was Friday night. I was heading into a weekend where the most exciting thing I had planned was babysitting the Packler twins, Bella and Grace.
    Even so, I couldn't stop the excitement from building. It came every Friday, curling through me with absolutely no release. And when I woke up on Saturday morning, I felt completely depressed. My weekends were like sinking your teeth into wax fruit.
    There was a whole part of life that I wasn't living.
    The A-listers were living it for me.
    I groaned. I was sort of tempted to bail, but Mr. and Mrs. Packler were really nice, and they'd never find a replacement so last-minute. Besides, I really didn't have anything better to do. By now, Gwen was probably whipping up a cheesecake, and Alex spent most nights up on his roof staring through his telescope.
    I might as well get paid for watching The Frog Princess.
    Actually, I thought, maybe I should take notes. I might pick up a few pointers.
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    SIX
    W hen I woke up the next morning, Alex was sitting at my kitchen table, sandwiched between my parents. There was a huge stack of whole wheat pancakes in front of him.
    "What are you doing here?" I asked, suddenly aware that I was still wearing my too-small save the dugong nightshirt.
    As if he'd just read my mind, Alex pointed at my chest and smiled. "The dugong. Cousin of the manatee. Glad to know you're a fan."
    My parents beamed at him like he'd just shrunk their carbon footprints.
    I tried again. "It's Saturday." I watched Alex
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    scoop up more pancake pieces and shovel them into his mouth. When he didn't answer, I added, "We don't have school."
    "It's a good thing too," he said, wiping his hands on a napkin. He pushed his chair back and stood. "This isn't just any Saturday."
    "It's not?"
    "No way." He paused for dramatic effect. When he spoke again, his voice was announcer-low. "It's your quarter birthday."
    I laughed. "My what?"
    "You're sixteen-point-two-five years old today, Sam," Alex announced. His thick dark hair, still wet from the shower, stuck up in little tufts around his head. "It's an unsung milestone in every girl's life."
    I grinned and slid into an empty chair. "And here I was, worried you'd forget."
    Alex's mouth fell open. "No way. I'm a friend."
    "I still remember my sixteen-and-a-quarter birthday," my mother said, faux wistfully. "It was magical."
    My dad lowered his paper and rolled his eyes. "You people are crazy," he said, but he sounded amused.
    Alex lifted his fork. "Big plans today, Sam. Huge."
    I stood, giving my nightshirt a quick tug. "Okay, let me just go get changed."
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    "Hurry!" Alex shouted as I scrambled up the stairs. "Once you hit point-two-six it's all over!"
    I hopped into the shower. For the first time in a week, I actually felt excited about something that had absolutely nothing to do with Kylie Frank.
    It felt good. I needed a little vacation.
    Drying off, I slipped into a pair of jeans and a plain, no-message T-shirt and ran back downstairs. Alex was waiting for me at the door.
    "Just drive carefully," my mother shouted after us as we left.
    Alex looked at me knowingly. "She's right," he said. "Lots of accidents associated with the quarter birthday."
    We headed out to his car, a dark blue station wagon he'd rebuilt so many times I doubted any of the original parts still existed. As I yanked the door open, my gaze shifted next door. The curtains to Kylie's room were still drawn. She was probably sleeping off the aftereffects of a crazy night.
    I'd