The Stone Girl Read Online Free PDF

could only afford to buy one set. Sethie was already two inches taller than her mother, so the skirt wasn’t nearly as short on Rebecca, something Rebecca didn’t seem to notice; or if she did, she didn’t think it was a problem.
    Sethie sat on the steps of the Met and waited for her classmate. It was the end of the school year, and their ancient-history professor had assigned them all a trip to the Greek wing of the Met as their final project. They each had to pick an artifact to write about, and their teacher had insisted they go to the museum in pairs. She said it was for safety.
There was a man on a bicycle at the bottom of the steps, and he stared at Sethie. At first, she liked it. She pretended
    49 not to notice; she pretended to be oblivious. She played with her hair and chewed on her pen, pretending to make notes in her notebook. When she looked up, she saw that the man hadn’t moved at all; he was staring right at her, smiling. Sethie hadn’t intended to make eye contact, but she had. She was surprised when he didn’t look away; most men looked away once they saw that she could tell they were watching her. They usually seemed ashamed, or embarrassed. But this man went right on staring.
    Sethie stood up. She stuffed her notebook into her backpack (she still used a backpack then), and walked to the other side of the steps. The steps are enormous, she remembers thinking, surely he won’t be so shameless as to follow me to the other side. She thought he would lose sight of her among all the other people milling around and sitting on the steps. But he rode his bicycle from one side of the steps to the other, keeping his eyes on her, on her bare arms and bare legs, on the tiny stripe of stomach that peeked out from under her tank top when she moved.
    When she got home that night, she took off the skirt and the tank top and told Rebecca she could keep them. They don’t really fit me, Sethie explained. I’m bigger than you, Sethie said, we can’t really share clothes anymore. Rebecca had shrugged. Sethie thinks she was probably pretty happy to have the outfit to herself.
    Sethie puts on a shirt. With a loose shirt on, she can barely see the roll of fat at the top of her new jeans, and the bottom half really does look good; Janey was right. Sethie decides she will keep the pants; she will wear them tonight
    50 at least, even if she hides them in the back of her closet after that, even if they will become her “skinny jeans,” the jeans she tries on only in her room to gauge whether she is having a fat week or a thin week. But she will wear then tonight; Janey would be disappointed if she didn’t.
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    aney has i nvited everyone to meet at her apartment before heading up to Columbia. First, Shaw picks Sethie up. He’s wearing jeans with a Polo T-shirt, which he has tucked in, and a belt that looks strange to Sethie,
    though she’s not sure exactly what’s wrong with it. Sethie would never say it out loud, but she knows that Shaw does not dress well. He buys the right clothes, but he wears them all wrong. That shirt should not be tucked in. He should not be wearing white socks with those sneakers. And something about the belt needs fixing.
    Sethie is wearing her new jeans with a black tank top layered under a cardigan and scarf, black boots with high heels. She’s wearing makeup, which she doesn’t wear often: brown eyeliner and mascara, blush and lip gloss. She doesn’t think she’s ever looked so good for Shaw, and she’s proud when she opens the door. Sethie is excited for the party; excited to be Shaw’s girl, looking good, at a party.
    52 Excited to get a sneak peek at Columbia; Sethie wants to go there too. Excited because she always has fun when she’s with Janey.
    Shaw kisses her hello. “Your lips are sticky,” he says, and rubs his own lips, to wipe away any trace of gloss from having kissed her. He hasn’t had a chance to take in the whole outfit yet, Sethie thinks. He’ll see that her