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Second Skin

Page 8

by Jessica Wollman

"Whatever," Jules said, raising her perfectly tweezed eyebrows. "I totally saw it coming. I mean, come on. Kylie's pretty, but she's no Angelina. And Tanner's way too cool to be-" Her mouth snapped shut as Kylie and Ella walked down our row. "Okay, shhh," she warned, like I'd been the one gossiping. "To be continued."

  Kylie and Ella sat down. Despite her snide remarks, Jules adhered to her regularly scheduled suck-up session, kicked off by edging her desk as close to Kylie's as possible.

  "So," she said, dropping her voice to a loud, conspiratorial whisper. "You have to tell me what happened. I'm dying."

  Kylie ran her fingers through her hair, which, I couldn't help but notice, was looking sort of flat. "Nothing to tell," she said. Her voice sounded weird, I decided. Like she was trying really hard to sound upbeat. "We got into a fight but then talked it out and now everything's back to normal."

  Jules shot me a look that, thankfully, Kylie didn't catch. "Well," she said. "If that's true, I'm really glad."

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  Kylie swiveled around and stared pointedly at Jules. "It's true," she said crisply. "Why wouldn't it be?"

  Jules's smile was pure innocence. "Of course it's true, sweetie," she said. "You said it is, so it is." She waited for Kylie to turn around, then turned to me with a "Yeah, right" look on her face.

  I didn't have time to respond. Mr. Martino walked into the room and flipped open the roll book, and that was that. My friendship with Jules Johnston had begun, about as subtly as her perfume.

  The next day started much the same way. And the next. After a few more homerooms passed, the image of Jules already seated, smiling and waving at me like Miss Universe, didn't cause me to freeze in my tracks. I was even able to enjoy it-and wave back.

  "Great coat. Is that Miu Miu?" she asked one morning in early February.

  "Uh, no," I said, distracted. What was up with her hair? The Born Blond she'd been sporting for the last week was gone, replaced by a dark chestnut. And she'd definitely spent some serious time with a curling iron that morning. The burned-looking strands had been coaxed into chunky half-spirals that extended from her scalp in stiff

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  plaits. It was a botched job, definitely, but after a few more minutes of study, I realized what was happening.

  Jules Johnston wanted dark, curly hair. Just like mine.

  "Well, what is it? Marc Jacobs?" Jules guessed, staring at my down parka like Gore-Tex was the new gold. She lurched forward and grabbed it off the back of my chair. Not a single hair on her shellacked head moved.

  "No," I said again, trying to pull it back.

  Too late. Jules's hands ran alongside the coat's interior toward the label.

  " 'Lands' End,' " she read out loud.

  My stomach dropped. My short-lived friendship with Jules Johnston was definitely over. The rewrite of my life was composed in disappearing ink.

  "Omigod, how cute are you?" Jules squealed. "I completely forgot about that catalog. I'm gonna check it out tonight."

  Oh, come on, I thought. Magic Skin or no magic Skin, things like this just didn't happen to me. There are people who set fashions and there are people who follow them. And then there are people who are so far from doing either, they get questioned by mall security just for trying to enter Saks. Guess which category I belonged to?

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  "So is that landsend.com?" Jules asked. Her fingers hovered eagerly over her iPhone.

  "Uh-huh," I said absently as Ella and Kylie made their way down the aisle and slid into their chairs.

  Kylie turned around and I waited for Jules to scoot forward. Only this morning, she didn't do much of anything. Other than raising her hand in a wave so weak and painfully fake it made my toes curl, she didn't move at all.

  Kylie's smile wilted. Her gaze shot between Jules and me, taking in our kissing desks and the "We're so friendly!" tilt of our heads. Her eyes settled on me and narrowed shrewdly, as if to say "You're so busted." Then she whipped back around, facing front.

  Well, that's that, I thought. Any doubts Kylie had had about my thievery were gone, completely wiped away.

  Still, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited. I couldn't help it. The Skin was working. I was on my way.

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  SEVENTEEN

  L ater that night, I was trying-and failing-to convince myself that my geometry textbook was the latest issue of People when my cell phone rang.

  Thank god, I thought as I raised it to my ear. I was a little surprised, since my phone lived an emergency-only sort of existence, but I figured it was Alex, checking in to see if my shape-challenged brain needed any help. "Hello?"

  "Hey! Whatcha doin'?" asked the unbelievably perky voice on the other line.

  I frowned. It definitely wasn't Alex. Or Gwen. Nor was it the video store, the dentist's

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  office or a competing phone company, vying for my business. Who else could possibly be calling me?

  "Um, a little geometry," I said, wondering if this was a wrong number and if I shouldn't just hang up now.

  "Ugh, you have Slater, right? I hear he's the worst."

  "Jules?" I guessed. I'd never given her my phone number, but there was always the school directory.

  The mystery caller laughed. "No, but I just got off the phone with her. It's me. Heidi. Adrienne's here too."

  I blinked. The only Heidi I knew, or at least knew of, was Heidi Zapler. She and her best friend, Adrienne Scott, were members of Kylie's worshipful chick clique. I'd never spoken to either of them and now they were calling me.

  "Uh, hi," I managed to squeak. "What's up?"

  "Oh, nothing," Heidi answered, but there was excitement in her voice. "We were just wondering if you heard."

  "Heard what?" I asked as my phone clicked. I pulled it away from my ear, puzzled. Was that the battery dying?

  "Kylie and Tanner are over," Heidi squealed. She sounded beyond delighted.

  I swallowed. "Wait, what? I don't think I-"

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  Click.

  It was the other line, I realized with a start. Someone else was calling for me. I had two callers. Wow.

  "Hold on," I said. I spent the next few seconds staring blankly at my phone. Unsurprisingly, I'd never used call-waiting before.

  "Hello?" I said, after several clumsy beeps and a few "still me"s from Heidi.

  "They broke up!" cried a voice in a loud staccato burst.

  "I know," I said automatically, then added: "Who is this?"

  "It's Jules. How do you know?"

  "Heidi's on the other line."

  "Oh," said Jules, miffed at being outscooped. But she seemed to recover after a few seconds, offering a generous "Want to conference her in?"

  "That's okay," I said quickly. If call-waiting was tough, I was pretty sure conferencing would kill me. "She can wait."

  Jules giggled, clearly delighted. "I guess he dumped her right after final bell," she continued. "I called it, didn't I?"

  "Yep," I agreed. I wasn't sure if this was actually true, nor did I care. I was too busy trying not to shout "Yes!" at the top of my lungs.

  "I can't believe she tried to pretend everything

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  was okay when it so obviously wasn't. I mean, how desperate can you get? It's so sad."

  "I know," I said, my head swimming. "Listen, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

  "Sure," Jules said. I could hear the disappointment in her voice. "I'll tell you more in homeroom."

  Dazed, I clicked back over to Heidi and told her I had to go too. Then I flipped my phone shut and flopped onto my bed.

  Tanner Mullins is single, I thought as a shiver of excitement rippled down my spine. He's single. And so am I.

  My phone rang again.

  It's Tanner, I thought, snapping it open. "Hello?"

  "You did this. I can't believe it!"

  Oops. This time around I didn't have to ask who it was.

  "Hey, Kylie," I said, trying to stay calm. "Listen, I told you the truth befor
e, I swear. I don't know a thing about-"

  "Just shut up, okay?" she seethed. "How else can you explain what's happening? Jules is suddenly your new BFF and Tanner dumps me? Please."

  "Uh, I don't know," I said. Just get off the phone and you can go back to dreaming about Tanner Mullins, I thought. "Look, I swear I-"

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  "Quit wasting my time." Kylie snorted. "Just give it back and I'll forget about this whole nightmare."

  "I have to go," I said quickly. "I'm really sorry you're so upset."

  "Give. It. Back."

  I took a deep breath and hung up.

  I brushed my teeth, washed my face, plastered one of my new pore strips across my nose and stripped it off (I hadn't completely lied to Kylie). Then I crawled into bed, closed my eyes and tried not to imagine tomorrow.

  It was hard.

  I kept waiting for the panic to hit. Kylie was beyond furious. Still, my excitement about Tanner's new bachelor status combined with the multiple phone calls outweighed my anxiety. In the Skin, I felt protected. Except for bathing, I never took it off. (The practice might not win me any good-grooming awards, but why waste a drop of popularity?) And it was working.

  If you're expecting some sort of amazing, romantic story about what happened the next morning, you're in for a serious disappointment. I know I was. I woke up half (okay, three-fourths) expecting to find Tanner Mullins waiting in the

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  driveway, holding two dozen long-stemmed roses and ready for a rebound romance. Well, that didn't happen.

  I didn't even see Tanner that day. Or the next. By Thursday, I was contemplating skipping his lacrosse game when I finally caught a glimpse of him walking down the hall. He was with a few of his teammates and didn't stop to talk, but when he saw me, he smiled and-I think--winked.

  A wink. That had to be huge, right? My own history of flirtation was nonexistent, but even so. A wink was a wink. And okay, maybe it was a little slimy, considering he and Kylie had just broken up, but that was hardly my problem, I reasoned, and therefore wasn't my place to judge.

  Besides, when the captain of the lacrosse team winks at you in the hallway, you have to attend his game. I was pretty sure that was a law in several states.

  So I went. I sat in the front row between Heidi and Adrienne, who, a week before, would never have made room for me on a crowded bleacher. But that afternoon they were all too eager to squeeze me in. If I'd asked, I bet they'd have built me an extra bench, too.

  Heidi ran a long, thin hand through her long, thin hair, reminding me of Gwen's nickname for

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  her, Hungry Hungry Heidi. "You have to come out with us after the game," she gushed. "The whole team heads over to Friendly's."

  "We take up, like, half the tables," Adrienne added proudly, like booth hogging was an art.

  "I'll think about it," I promised as the players trotted onto the field. I saw Tanner gaze up and into the crowd, his eyes moving down the bleachers in a businesslike manner. When he saw me, he smiled and gave a thumbs-up.

  My mouth went dry.

  That's terrible, I told myself. You stole the Skin from Kylie and now you're ready to steal her boyfriend, too? You should feel really bad for even thinking about this stuff.

  A whistle blared, signaling the start of the game. Whenever Tanner stole the ball I clapped. When he scored, I stomped my feet and screamed his name. And even though I had absolutely no idea what was happening on the field about ninety percent of the time, I figured I covered all the really important stuff.

  When the game was over (I was pretty sure that, again, Woodlawn had won, but made a mental note to do a little online lacrosse research when I got home), I really wanted to hang back and talk to Tanner-or even head over to Friendly's and wait for him-but decided against it. Kylie Frank had arrived midgame and was sitting

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  about ten seats away from me. She definitely had dibs.

  "Listen, thanks for the invite," I told Heidi and Adrienne as we edged our way toward the aisle. "But I can't go. Maybe another time, okay?"

  "You're not coming?" Heidi asked. She looked crushed. "Really?"

  "We're usually there for a couple of hours," Adrienne assured me. "In case you change your mind."

  "Hey, Sam! Sam Klein!"

  I turned. Tanner was standing at the edge of the field, smiling. At me.

  That was all it took. The dizzy feeling was back.

  "Hey," I said softly, not trusting my voice. "I heard you cheering," he said. "You're our number-one fan."

  "Uh, sure am," I said.

  "Listen, we have another game on Tuesday," he said, flashing me a Colgate-bright smile. "See you there?"

  "Definitely."

  I climbed down from the bleachers and walked into the hall, toward my locker. My Tanner high was so intense that I barely even gasped when I looked down and noticed the locker door hanging wide open.

  I checked the contents, confirming that yes,

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  someone had broken in, but no, nothing was missing. Laptop. Notebooks. Backpack. They were all there.

  I should have felt panicked. Or furious. And I definitely should have reported the incident to the principal's office. But since I was wearing the only possession I really, truly cared about, the fuss hardly seemed worth it.

  The rewrite of my life was in progress-and so far it was way more exciting than any romance novel.

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  EIGHTEEN

  " I should have her up and running in about three weeks," Alex told Gwen and me. We were in his garage, staring down at a sheet of fiberglass that was, according to his blueprints, destined to become his latest soapbox car.

  I glanced around the room, at the dismantled baby carriage and cans of paint, the woodworking bench covered with tools whose names and functions I wasn't even remotely curious about, and smiled. "Not possible," I said. "I know you're good but you're not that good."

  "Oh, Sam," Alex said, shaking his head. "You have so much to learn."

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  Gwen lifted her head out of Gourmet. "I think you can do it." She shot me a look. "Stranger things have been known to happen."

  A tiny shiver ran down my spine. Bit by bit, the halls of Woodlawn were warming to me. I was definitely on the rise. But each inch I climbed seemed to add to the tension that had cropped up between Gwen and me. It had started that first afternoon in the hallway and, as far as I could tell, didn't plan on moving anytime soon.

  Before I could answer her, my cell rang. Or rather, it started to sing. I reached into my bag and grabbed it.

  Gwen groaned. "Will you please turn that thing off?" she said, plucking a screwdriver from the workbench. "Or at least switch it to vibrate?"

  "Sorry," I muttered. "I'm not really sure how."

  This was true. Sort of. Jules had switched my ringtone earlier that week ("Omigod, how can you not know this song? It totally changed my life-I'm so jealous you get to listen to it for the first time...") and I really didn't know how to change it back. On the other hand-and this was something I could never admit to Gwen, especially when she was holding something sharp-I kind of liked the cheesy Top Forty song Jules had chosen.

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  "I'll do it," Gwen volunteered, twirling the screwdriver like a baton.

  Ignoring her, I checked the screen and frowned. I didn't recognize the number but that didn't surprise me. I'd been getting so many calls lately, it was impossible to keep them all straight.

  Ever since Heidi's call the week before, my phone hadn't stopped ringing. At this point, I was pretty sure I was single-handedly keeping Verizon afloat. It started in the morning with Jules's routine wake-up-what-are-you-wearing-are-you-sure-you-don't-need-a-ride call, followed by a steady stream of random invitations, check-ins and late-breaking gossip. Each time I answered, I felt a new thrill of excitement.

  "Hello?" I said.

  "Hey, sweetie! What's up?" asked a high-pitched female voice. Without waiting for a response, it co
ntinued. "Listen, I talked to everyone else and they totally agree. You have to join."

  "Wait, who-"

  "I mean, I can't believe it's taken this long. Pep squad needs you! I'm sure you already know this but we practice Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, so just come to the gym after final bell tomorrow. You don't need to audition or anything, isn't that great?"

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  "Uh, yeah," I said, my head spinning. Pep squad? I was actually being asked to join pep squad-a serious A-list club reserved for the perfectly shaped, toned and color-coordinated. I'd never been invited to join anything-not even lame clubs like the calligraphy society or academic decathlon.

  You can't even box-step without tripping, whispered a little voice inside my head.

  I rubbed my arm, feeling the Skin underneath my cotton shirt.

  My stomach curled with excitement. It would be okay. The Skin would make sure of it.

  "Hey," I said into the phone. "Thanks a lot-I mean, that's really great news. But, um, who is this?"

  A giggle shot straight through the receiver, piercing my ear. "Oh my god, you're too funny. It's Gina! Listen, I have to call Jules back. She wanted to tell you the news but since I'm a co-captain I totally pulled rank." Gina laughed again. "She was so pissed. See you tomorrow, sweetie!"

  I snapped the phone shut. Gwen and Alex were staring at me.

  "Who was that?" Gwen asked.

  "Let me guess," Alex said, his face closed. "Tanner Mullins needs you to spot him."

  Ever since I'd started attending lacrosse

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  games, Alex's teasing had become relentless. He'd diagnosed me with a deep-seated and potentially fatal case of mimbo-male bimbo-obsession, and brought it up whenever possible. It was beyond annoying, especially since Tanner and I weren't even going out. Or anything. I just liked to watch him play. He was, after all, team captain. And though I knew absolutely nothing about lacrosse, even I could tell he was gifted. What was so wrong about supporting local talent?

  But no matter how many times I explained this, Alex wouldn't stop. Obviously, he hated Tanner just because he was a jock, which was wrong on so many levels I couldn't stand it.

  My cheeks turned bright red. "Shut up. It was Gina Yonas."

  "Who's that?" Alex asked. Was it my imagination or did he look relieved?

 

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