That's it, I thought as he lifted the trophy high above his head and started to belt a very out-of-tune and-thanks to the mouth guard he was still wearing-garbled rendition of "We Will Rock You." Tanner was the perfect escape hatch. If I was in love with him, I couldn't be in love with Alex. And that would mean all the racing-pulse, palpitating-heart nonsense from before was just, well, nonsense. I'd be completely off
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the hook! I wouldn't have to think about any of this stuff ever again.
Turning away from Alex, I smiled in Tanner's direction and clapped along with the rest of the cafeteria. (For the record, there was also a lot of hooting going on but I refrained.) It wasn't a nice thing to do. At all. But compared to what happened next, it was nothing.
This isn't so bad, I thought as Tanner caught my eye. He lurched forward, swept me into his arms-okay, it was more like a grab-and kissed me. Seriously kissed me. In front of the entire school.
Including Alex.
I knew it was a mistake almost instantly, as soon as his sweat-soaked face descended. His lips felt hard against mine and, despite the fact that he'd finally removed his mouth guard, there was a definite slobber situation happening. He smelled, too. Like grass and sweat and dirt-but not in a way that was manly or appealing. Just smelly.
My entire body locked. I squeezed my eyes shut and an image of Alex popped into my head. Or, to be precise: the image was of Alex and me. Together.
And that was when I relaxed and got into things. My resistance melted, my body welcomed and my lips searched for more.
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Now this was a kiss. "Tanner Mullins rules!"
The hoot yanked me back to reality. I opened my eyes. The real Alex was standing beside me. Watching his date make out with someone else.
I turned to him. "Wow, I'm-"
He held up his hand, cutting me off. His mouth was a thin, hard line across his face and his eyes were fierce.
"Don't," he said. "Just forget it."
And then, just as the cafeteria burst into a thunderous round of applause for Woodlawn's supercouple, he was gone.
I was alone. Stuck with Tanner Mullins and our overwhelming popularity.
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TWENTY-NINE
W hat I really needed, I thought as I followed Tanner and Jules into the Spring Fling after-party at Chuck Todd's house, was a good case of amnesia.
I'd spent the remainder of the dance praying for something to hit me on the head-hard. A shooting star. Or better yet, a planet.
No such luck. Thanks to the Spring Fling committee's investment in extra-strength masking tape, those constellations weren't going anywhere. And that left me trapped at the dance, tormented by all the awful things I'd done. Somewhere along the line, the rewrite of my life
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had gone from bodice-ripping beach read to trashy horror story-the sort of thing I'd buy in the ninety-nine-cent bin at Walmart, if my parents let me shop there.
I'd messed up on so many different levels, with so many different people. I should have defended Gwen. I was going to. Okay, maybe my response was a little delayed, but I was, for the record, going to say something.
Alex was another story. I'd treated him terribly.
The thought made me want to cry.
To top it all off, Spring Fling-the dance I'd coveted my entire high school career-was quickly becoming the absolute worst night of my life.
After our kiss, Tanner and I were voted King and Queen. Surprise surprise. As we made our way up toward the stage to collect the crowns, the gym dissolved into a mess of howls and whistles, and Tanner hooted and hollered right back. The best I could muster was another superfake grin, which, considering the Skin was now king cobra-tight, required Lance Armstrong-style discipline.
Then I had to dance. With Tanner. All night. After one song, I was covered in sweat. By two, my dress was more mud than fabric. And I spent most of the third composing a nasty complaint to
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Right Guard in my head, since Sport Stick in no way protects anyone from BO.
And I couldn't stop fiddling with the crown. Not only did it look like it had been fished out of a Happy Meal, clearly the thing hadn't been designed with curly hair in mind. No matter how hard I tugged, my frizz kept forcing it up into a jaunty angle that would've been perfect if I'd been wearing a beret-which, of course, I wasn't.
I can't believe I used to dream about this stuff, I thought, glancing around Chuck's living room. The whole A-list was there and, from the number of kegs being rolled into the kitchen, they were in the mood to do some serious drinking.
"Keystone?" Tanner said scornfully, eyeing a label. "Stuff tastes like weasel piss."
Jules giggled, which I'd learned was her standard "cute boy" response. Since I had no thoughts on, or interest in, the weasel's urinary tract, I opted for silence.
"Listen, grab me a cup, okay, babe?" Tanner said. Because of the "babe," I was pretty sure the request was meant for me, but it was hard to tell since he was already en route to the kitchen. "I'm gonna go help those boys with the tap." He shook his head forlornly. "They've got, like, no clue, you know?"
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I watched him walk away, feeling nothing but relief.
I can't do it, I thought. I can't spend another night watching Tanner and his buddies do keg laps, keg tosses and whatever else you can do with a keg.
I had to get out of there.
"I think I'm gonna go," I told Jules.
She gaped at me. "But we just got here."
"I know, but I'm really tired." I faked a yawn. "The dance really wore me out."
"But what about Tanner?"
"He's a big boy. He can get his own cup."
Jules tried again. "But you're gonna miss everything."
I shrugged. "I'll live."
"Okay," she said reluctantly. "I'll call you tomorrow and give you a full rundown."
Don't bother, I thought. I don't want to know.
It was true, I realized suddenly. I didn't care about missing the party. I didn't care about who said what and who hooked up with whom. I just wasn't interested.
"Thanks," I said as I pushed my way toward the front door. I considered telling Tanner I was leaving but decided to skip it. He was in the kitchen, surrounded by beer and jocks. He'd be fine. More than fine.
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I stood on the street waiting for the car service I'd called, happy to be away from all the people and the noise. Just a few months ago, I'd have given anything to be inside. Now I felt just the opposite. I'd do anything-no sum was too much, no sacrifice too great-to avoid another A-list event.
Plus, the Skin was killing me. At this point, I was basically vacuum-sealed.
One thing was certain, I decided, as the car pulled up. I wasn't confused. Not anymore.
I'd had it. I wanted out. Out of the Skin. Out of pep squad. Out of my unrelationship with Tanner.
I wanted my life back. My real life.
I wanted Gwen and-with an intensity that was almost frightening-I wanted Alex.
I climbed out of the car, wondering if there was anything I could do, short of time travel, to get Gwen and Alex to forgive me.
And then, as if on cue, there they were. Standing on Kylie Frank's front porch. I watched, completely frozen, as Alex (my Alex) and Gwen (my Gwen) stood joking around with Kylie and Ella. They looked as if they'd been friends for years.
Jealousy descended, weaving its way through the Skin and into my pores. Obviously, this was some sort of setup. Kylie Frank's idea of revenge.
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I'd stolen the Skin, so now she was stealing my friends. My real friends. She didn't like them. Not really. She was just trying to get to me.
Well, I thought as I watched the happy foursome issue their goodbyes. Mission accomplished.
I couldn't see straight. I wasn't thinking. I know that doesn't excuse what I did next, but please-just keep it in mind.
As Alex's car, with Gwen and Ella in it, backed out o
f the driveway, I felt myself hurtling toward the porch as fast as a body bound in synthetic skin could move.
"That's so low!" I yelled. I tried to storm up the stairs but, since bending my knees was sort of impossible, had to settle for a much less intimidating hop. "I can't believe you!"
Kylie's eyes widened with surprise, then, as she recovered, started to flash. "What are you talking about?" she snapped.
"Oh, like you don't know," I countered. "Look, I'm sorry things haven't been exactly going your way, but you don't have to use my friends to get back at me."
"What? We just ran into each other at-" She stopped midsentence and seemed to give herself a little shake. "You know what?" she hissed. "I don't have to explain myself to you. Get off my porch."
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Despite my temporary insanity and the fact that the Skin was most definitely cutting off the oxygen supply to my brain, I could see she had a point.
I tossed a final poisonous look her way and started to hop back down the stairs. And that was when it hit. A thought so painful it made my heart hurt. "I suppose you and Alex are like a thing now, right?" I screamed. My voice was shrill and shaking. "Is that what this is all about? Punishment for Tanner?"
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I was wrong. And I also knew I'd gone too far.
Kylie flew in front of me. "How dare you! You're the one who runs around taking friends and boyfriends without even thinking about it!" Her face twisted with anger. "I never did anything to you except trust you with one secret, which you..."
She turned away from me and pulled open the door. "You know what? You're not worth it. Just forget it."
I watched as she stomped back inside the house. And that was when I snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted out.
"Okay!" I cried as I followed her. "You're right. I'm sorry!"
Kylie froze, then turned slowly around to face me. "For what?" she asked, her voice suspicious.
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Even though I was dreading the scene about to unfold, there was a not-so-small part of me that also felt pretty good. Okay, maybe good was a stretch. But I did feel sort of calm. I wanted this to be over. All of it. I was ready.
I took a deep breath and did something I hadn't done in ages.
I told the truth.
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THIRTY
" W hy did you tell me this now?" Kylie asked, after I'd confessed. We were standing in the middle of her living room, in front of the repaired picture window. We stared at each other from opposite ends of the room.
I started to cry. Fat, sloppy tears rolled down my face and into my mouth. "I don't want the Skin anymore," I sputtered. "You can have it. I just want it off."
Kylie looked at me. "Why? What are you talking about?"
"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to mess up your life." The words rushed out as if spurting from a
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showerhead. "Really. I actually sort of worshiped you. Okay, not sort of. I did. I wanted to be you."
Kylie folded her arms protectively across her chest. "And you thought the best way to be me was to steal the Skin and ruin my life," she said. "Because you did ruin my life. You know that, right?"
I nodded. "I didn't mean to. That part just sort of...happened. I just wanted to be popular. I was obsessed." I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand. "But not anymore. I mean it. I want to be myself again...." I trailed off, wondering who, exactly, that was.
Kylie looked at me, her face inscrutable. "So take it off and give it back."
"I've tried," I said, sniffling loudly. "I can't. It's stuck." I reached through the sleeve of my dress and pulled at the Skin. "I...Look...that day in your room you said something about a list of rules and a user's manual....If you could just-"
Kylie snorted. "Please. Why would I even consider helping you?"
"I know," I said. "But how about this. If you help me, you can have the Skin back. Seriously. It's yours."
"And I should believe you because...?"
I sighed. "You shouldn't. I'm the last person
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you should trust. I know that. But I swear I'm done with popularity." I reached down and flicked my Skin-covered forearm for emphasis. "I don't want this. And you do. You can have your old life back. And I'll have mine." I swallowed. "Please."
Slowly, as if moving in some sort of time warp, Kylie unfolded her arms. "Fine." She turned and headed silently up the stairs. I decided not to wait for an invitation and followed.
Kylie's bedroom was different now. The friendship collages were gone, as was the shot of her and Tanner. The only pictures in the room were a photo-booth strip of her and Ella and a large framed picture of a guy in a soccer uniform.
Matt Kane, I realized, staring at the image. The guy Kylie dumped for Tanner, way back when.
Kylie's eyes followed mine. "It's nothing serious," she said quickly. "We're sort of taking things slow."
I smiled at her. "I hope it works out."
She stared at me for a few seconds, then turned abruptly and cut across the room, stopping in front of her desk. Reaching into the first drawer, she pulled out a single piece of paper and held it out. "Here."
I glanced down at the plain white sheet,
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trying to hide my disappointment. I guess I'd been expecting something a little fancier. Flowery gold script and heavy parchment that crackled when you turned the page, all bound in thick silk ribbons.
THE SECOND SKIN--RULES AND REGULATIONS
1. RESPECT THE SECOND SKIN AND IT WILL RESPECT YOU.
2. ONLY ONE SKIN IS PERMITTED PER SCHOOL.
3. DO NOT TELL ANYONE ABOUT THE SECOND SKIN.*
4. THE SECOND SKIN MUST NOT BE REMOVED FOR LONGER THAN FOUR HOURS AT
ANY ONE TIME.
PLEASE SEE MANUAL FDR REMOVAL AND CARE GUIDELINES.
*(Since the Skin is invisible, you need not worry about embarrassing locker room scenarios. It is advised, however, that communal dressing rooms be avoided. Skin or no Skin, they're simply unpleasant.)
I read through the list once, then twice more. Each time, I could feel new lines popping up on my forehead.
Great, I thought. Talk about vague. I'd get better directions from a fortune cookie.
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"Not too specific, is it?" I said aloud.
Kylie shrugged. "Well, I broke rule three and look what happened to me." She shot me a look. "You being a total jerk helped, of course."
Ignoring her, I stared down at the list. "But it doesn't tell me what I'm supposed to do."
Kylie groaned. "Not that this is in anyway my problem, but in the interest of getting you out of my room as fast as possible, I'll give it a stab." She glanced over my shoulder, chewing on her lower lip as her eyes moved down the paper. "I don't know. Maybe you didn't respect the Skin? I mean, you did steal it." She leaned over and sniffed my arm, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "And you definitely didn't wash it enough. That thing's filthy. I really wish you'd swiped the care guide."
"Uh, thanks," I said, handing the paper back.
Kylie shrugged again. "Whatever."
"Look," I said. "I really am sorry."
Kylie turned away. "Why don't you go home and see if you can get it off? Then we'll talk," she said, her back stiff.
I hopped down the stairs and out onto the front porch. The Skin felt so tight I wondered if I even looked three-dimensional anymore. It was a geometry problem only Alex could solve.
Alex.
My heart twisted. How was I going to fix this?
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The list of rules floated around inside my head, making me dizzy. Respect the Skin...ovoid communal dressing rooms... true, I'd done none of those things. But I'd made so many other mistakes, too. It was hard to know where to start.
I guess sometimes you just have to wing it, I thought. I reached the edge of the porch, squeezed my eyes shut and jumped.
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THIRTY-ONE
S ince I'd never dump
ed anyone before (to be fair, I'd never had anyone to dump), I was a little nervous when I called Tanner the next morning to end things. Thankfully, he made it pretty easy.
"Wait, I don't get it," he said. He was holding the phone way too close to his mouth and his words came out all warped and breathy.
"I think we should break up," I repeated, resisting the urge to wipe off the receiver.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a few more obscene-phone-caller-type exhales (was he doing stomach
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crunches or something?) and then another "I don't get it."
I tried a different approach. "I just don't think we have a whole lot in common. You like sports and I like..."
I trailed off, wondering what exactly I did like. Thanks to the Skin, I'd learned a lot about what I didn't like and wasn't good at: partying, gossiping, any activity that involved a midriff-baring uniform. But what did I really enjoy? I jogged my memory, trying to remember which, if any, of the millions of responsibilities I'd juggled over the past few months hadn't made me want to impale myself on a baton.
Decorations.
The word triggered a slide show in my head, filled with Spring Fling constellations. I smiled at the memory of all that sketching, painting and glittering. It had been hard. But I'd enjoyed it. And I'd done a good job.
"Art," I finished. "I'm an-I'm sort of an artist."
"Well," Tanner said uncertainly. "That's cool. Maybe you could decorate my lacrosse jersey. Something different, you know? I could leave it for the school when I graduate."
Okay, third time's the charm. I gave it another shot. "There are a million girls out there who'd die to go out with you," I told him.
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"That's true," Tanner said easily.
"I just think maybe you'd be happier with one of them," I pushed. "To be honest, I feel like I've been sort of monopolizing you." I paused and then tagged on a hasty, "I mean, holding you back."
"I can see that," Tanner said. "I guess I should get out there a little more-it's senior year."
"Exactly," I said, relieved to finally be getting through. "You should have fun. You owe it to yourself. And don't worry about me. I know we'll always be friends."
"Huh? Oh yeah, definitely." Tanner's voice was distant now and I had the feeling I'd caught him mid-hang-up. "Listen, I'll see you around, okay?"
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