Second Skin (20 page)

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Authors: Jessica Wollman

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Second Skin
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You
don't know the half of it,
I thought, clasping my hands behind my back. I tried to raise them but they refused to budge any higher than my hips. I frowned. I was never the most flexible person in the world-pep squad had certainly proven that point-but this was ridiculous.

The rest of the pep pack circled round me and immediately began twisting their bodies into a series of gravity-defying shapes.

"This is such a great idea," Adrienne added, a look of pure glee on her face as she kicked her leg up, touching her knee to her head. "I didn't have time to work out this morning!"

Resisting the urge to zap her with the glue gun, I tried to force my body into a single jumping

213
jack. I was barely halfway through when my cell rang.
Thank you,
I thought as I flipped it open.

"Yo," Tanner said. I'd realized weeks ago that normal pleasantries-like "please,"

"goodbye" and "sorry I just pounded you on the back when a simple pat would do"-weren't his style. "I'm still at the game."

"Game?" I asked, my mind a complete blank. "You're at a game now?"

"Yeah, you know. Up at Valley." He sounded surprised that I'd forgotten. And a little annoyed. "Looks like my boys and I have an overtime situation on our hands. Could be a few more hours. Better hit the dance without me, okay?"

"What do you mean? We were supposed to go together."

"Sorry, babe," Tanner said, not sounding very sorry at all. "But duty calls. Gotta go. This photographer's snapping my pic and I want to make sure he gets my name in the caption....Hey, man, that's Tanner with two ns, okay?"

"But-" I sputtered as the phone clicked off.

Great.
I, Samantha Klein, the most popular girl at Woodlawn High and cochair of the Spring Fling committee, was minus one dream date.

"What's wrong?" Jules asked, noticing the look of alarm on my face. "Did you forget to buy

214
something?" She patted my arm reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. I've got extras of everything."

I had to get out of here.

"Uh, listen," I said, backing away from the group. "The paint fumes are giving me a headache. I'm gonna take a walk."

I shot out of the room, ignoring Jules's predictable "Wait! I'll come with!"

Not good. This is so not good,
I thought as I pushed open the blue fireproof doors that led to the parking lot. I
had
to go to Spring Fling. It was
my
dance-my night. Everyone knew I was a shoo-in for Spring Fling Queen. How could I not show? Of course, Jules would definitely let me tag along with her and Chuck-but that was so lame. So old me.

Nope. I definitely needed an escort. Only all the guys were taken...

Except one.

The idea fluttered through my head like the Albert Einstein of butterflies. I flipped open my cell and punched in Alex's number.

He picked up almost immediately.

Thank you for having absolutely no social life,
I thought. "Hey!" I began, cheerfully. "What are you doing right now?"

"Sam?" Alex asked. He sounded surprised and not particularly pleased. "Is that you?"

215
"Dun! Of course it's me, silly," I said. Wait-was that my voice? It sounded thicker than usual, with a definite flirty undertone. "What are you up to?"

"Uh, I was just heading out to the roof," Alex said. I could picture him, standing in the middle of his room wearing a stained T-shirt and pants that were baggy in a way that never had been-and never would be-fashionable. "Remember the lunar phases I told you about? Well, tonight's the waxing gibbous."

"Sounds great," I lied, thinking that a waxing gibbous sounded more like a wrestling move than a moon cycle. "But I was wondering if you wanted to go to Spring Fling."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Wait, with you?" Alex said, after a few more painful seconds had slipped by.

Okay, not exactly the enthusiastic response I was looking for, but not necessarily a no.

I giggled. "Yes with me."

"But I thought Tanner was taking you," Alex said, his tone icy. This too was easy to picture. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw set. I'd go with clenched fists and white knuckles, too.

Alex definitely had a jock complex.

My heart twisted. If I told the truth-that he was no more than a last-minute sub--I'd hurt his

216
feelings
and
be dateless. It was a lose-lose all around.

"Look, I know things have been sort of weird between us lately, so I thought maybe we could hang out tonight." I squeezed my eyes shut as I threw myself into yet another lie. "Besides, I decided I'd rather go to the dance with someone I'm really comfortable with. Someone like you."

Another silence. Was I imagining things or did this one feel different from the first? Less tense.

"Uh, what time should I pick you up?" Alex asked. His voice was warmer now, almost happy.

Whew. As much as it could, my body relaxed under the iron grip of the Skin. "How 'bout eight?" I suggested.

"Great," he said. "And listen, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"We're gonna have fun," I said, hanging up the phone.

Crisis averted,
I thought as I turned onto my street. I tried to imagine the night ahead but it was hard. I'd spent so long dreaming about Spring Fling with Tanner-dancing with Tanner, laughing with Tanner, kissing Tanner
(real
kisses this time-not the hasty pecks from past dates). Now my brain had less than three hours to revise the picture with Alex instead. There
217
would definitely be laughing. But what about dancing? Doubtful. And kissing was out of the question.
Me. Kissing Alex.

I waited for a knot to form in my stomach. Or nausea. Or some other vile physical response. Nothing happened. My pulse fluttered a little, but I was pretty sure that was due to the walking, not the kissing.

Whatever,
I thought, climbing the steps to my room. I tried to raise my knees extra high to give the Skin a good stretch. At least I had a date.

I slipped out of my clothes and ran a bath. And then I tried to slide the Skin off of my body.

Only I couldn't. It was completely and totally stuck.

I pulled. And tugged. And hopped. Nada. The Skin clung to me like melted plastic. I spent the next forty minutes trying to get it off, with absolutely no results.

Sore and exhausted, I looked at the clock. Alex would be over in less than a half hour and I was still sweaty and paint-covered. In a panic, I hopped into the tub and prayed that the Skin wouldn't melt like the Wicked Witch of the West.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat. No damage done. And as I stepped out of the tub, the Skin dried almost immediately. I barely needed a towel.

As clean as a laminated body can get, I put on

218
my dress and shoved my feet into my new stilettos, then stomped around my room trying to scuff the soles.
Calm down,
I ordered.
Don't think about the Skin. You don't have time.

Spring Fling was about to be flung.

219
TWENTY-EIGHT
"
N
ot bad," Alex said, looking around the cafeteria. The Little Dipper, I noticed, was still upside down, but Alex was kind enough to overlook that point. "I'd have included at least one
Star Trek
reference, but other than that I'm impressed." He turned to me, his hand extended. "Congratulations. I'm sure you'll get into space camp."

"Thanks," I said, flashing him a weak smile as we walked past Saturn. From the main room to the ministage, the place was packed, covered with constellations and filled with music. Spring Fling was a success. And I was freaking out.

220
This wasn't just post-traumatic guilt from the many white-okay, beige-lies I'd spewed either. And it had nothing to do with all the glitter I'd inhaled over the past week or the fact that I was now permanently shrink-wrapped (although yes, that was definitely freaky).

The main reason for my current weird-out had to do with Alex. Yes, Alex. My geeky-but-hilarious, known-him-since-just-about-forever friend Alex.

I'd actually been doing pretty well, considering. As I'd stood in the foyer waiting for him to pick me up, I kept offering myself words of silent encouragement-you
can do it!
and
keep it up!-
sort of like I was my own personal trainer.

And then the bell rang.

Alex was standing in the doorway, hair freshly washed and cut, wearing a suit. He looked so normal. And so
tall.
And so incredibly...wow.

My heart did an Olympic-caliber double axel inside my chest. I'd never felt anything like it before. Not with Tanner. Not with anyone in
People
magazine's "Top Ten Hottest Bachelors" issue. Not with anyone on a billboard.

And definitely not with Alex.

The excitement was totally weird, and completely unwelcome (as were the admiring glances I'd seen several girls cast his way since

221
we'd walked in; I almost kicked them). I had way too much going on already. I just couldn't handle this.

Besides, I had a boyfriend. His name was Tanner Mullins and he was perfect. Okay, perfect-looking. Whatever. The point was, I didn't need any more complications. Not now. Now was Spring Fling. I'd waded through weeks of boring meetings and a sea of arts and crafts supplies just to get here. It was my night. And it was supposed to be easy and problem-free.

"You look amazing," Jules said, approaching.

How'd she do it?
I wondered, staring at her dress. I'd been completely close-mouthed about my Spring Fling fashion choices. I'd shopped alone and kept the whole ensemble hidden in the back of my closet for weeks. But somehow Jules had managed to outfit-stalk me anyway. Her dress was a variation of my own--black mini verging on micro, buttons down the back-and she was wearing the exact same pair of Steve Madden heels.

I glanced around. With all the curly hair in the room, the cafeteria was screaming for a huge squirt of Frizz-Ease. And almost every girl was wearing a minidress, too. It was like a sixties tribute fest.

Oh, let it go,
I thought, turning to Jules. "Thanks," I said. "You look great too. Nice dress."

222
She smiled, completely unaware that by complimenting her I was basically complimenting myself.

"Hi, Alan," she said, noticing Alex for the first time.

"Hey," he said coolly. He turned to me. "Um, listen, Sam. Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?"

Oh
my. This wasn't going to work. How could I have a vapid, thought-free evening with Alex around making my pulse do all the extreme pep squad-style moves my body refused to even attempt?

"Sure," I said, thinking fast. "But could you do me a huge favor first? I'd love a Diet Coke."

Alex tilted his head to one side. "A Diet Coke," he repeated.

"Right. Extra cold."

He shrugged. "Uh, sure. Be right back."

It wasn't a nice thing to do, I thought as I watched him disappear into the throng. But compared to the other not-nice things I'd done in the past few weeks, it barely hit the top ten.

Not that that made me feel any better.

"Congrats on the refreshments," Heidi said, walking up to me. She also wore a minidress, which struggled to cover her long, thin body. She lifted a plate of pastries. "Have you tried the mini éclairs? They're amazing."

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