Second Skin (16 page)

Besides, I reasoned, it was stupid to beat myself up with questions I'd never be able to answer. I didn't have the user's manual. After my failed Google search, I'd visited Wikipedia and scoured my magazine collection, hoping to unearth some sort of Skin-related intelligence. But nothing turned up. And I couldn't, for obvious reasons, ask Kylie for pointers. That meant the niggling worry in the back of my mind-the one that proposed a link between the new pore-stifling Skin and my overall vileness-could never be confirmed.

And for that, I was just a little bit thankful.

Twenty minutes later, I'd showered, changed and slid back into the Skin. (Why was it hard to take off but still so easy to slip on? That made absolutely no sense.) It felt a little tighter than usual, so I did a few deep knee bends. Maybe it

I stopped breathing somewhere around the last step.

Tanner Mullins's bright red Mustang convertible was parked in my driveway. He was in the driver's seat, adjusting something on his dashboard. When he looked up, he smiled at me.

My stomach jumped as I cast a quick, panicked glance toward the kitchen. I had maybe twenty seconds before my parents noticed me or (yikes) the yummy boy decorating their front lawn.

I opened the front door and, as softly as I could, pulled it closed. Meet the parents definitely wasn't happening today.

"Hey," Tanner said, rolling down his window as I approached. His blond hair flopped across his forehead, casual but perfect. In the morning light his blue eyes looked, if possible, even bluer than usual.

"Hi," I said, chewing on my lower lip.

Tanner settled back into his seat and smiled again.

I waited for an explanation. Something about ditching Kylie and being hopelessly, completely in love with me. Or perhaps the slightly less dramatic "I was in the neighborhood and thought you might want a ride."

I walked around to the passenger seat and got in.

"Um, nice car," I said as he shifted into reverse and edged out of the driveway.

He frowned. "You think? I might trade it in for an XTerra." He checked his reflection in the rearview mirror and smoothed his hair. "I'm not really sure the whole windswept thing is working for me anymore."

"Oh no, it's great," I assured him, hating the thin, simpering sound of my voice.

He smiled. "Cool. Thanks."

Okay, clearly Tanner's agility on the lacrosse field didn't extend to the art of conversation. On the other hand, it was the first time we'd hung out for longer than three minutes, so I had to cut the guy a break. And not just because of his perfect smile and impossibly cute dimples.

"So listen," he said, turning in to the parking lot. (We were at school already? How was that even possible?) "I was thinking maybe we could go out tonight." He winked. "You know, as sort of a thank-you for supporting the team."

"Oh. Cool," I managed to gulp. I forgot about Kylie. I forgot about the Skin. I forgot about the fact that it was Thursday and no way would my

"Cool," Tanner repeated as his eyes swept the parking lot. His face brightened as his gaze fell on a group of letter jacket-clad guys. "Yo, butt cheese!" he yelled, opening his door. "You suck!" He turned to me. "So I'll catch up with you later, okay? I gotta go pound some sense into those boys."

"Sure," I said. "No problem."

I got out of the car and headed toward the front door just as Jules climbed out of the silver BMW she'd received for her sixteenth birthday.

"Oh wow," she breathed, her eyes wide. "Tell me you didn't just get out of Tanner Mullins's car."

"Uh, actually I did," I said, allowing myself a tiny, quasi-smug smile.

"Nice," she squealed and, of course, tacked on an "I called it, didn't I?" She smirked. "He asked

I turned to her, surprised. "Really? You knew?" How did Jules manage to log so many

"Uh-huh," Jules said, holding the door open for me as we walked into the building. "Who do you think gave him your address?" Jules giggled. "I wonder if Kylie saw you guys. She was probably spying on you through the window. What a fur-reak."

A fresh stab of guilt churned my stomach. No relief. No pleasure. Just pure, well-deserved guilt.

And when I rounded the corner to find Gwen and Alex waiting for me in front of my locker, the feeling only intensified.

They'd stopped by my house this morning to pick me up. Just like they did every day. Only this morning, I wasn't there. I'd completely blown them off. And, I realized in a horrified flash, I'd never called either of them last night to explain about lunch. It was totally on my list, but I'd had so many other calls to make....

I had some serious apologizing to do. I didn't really feel like doing it in front of Jules, but there was no time to get rid of her.

Jules followed my gaze, her expression darkening. I could tell that she didn't approve of my old friends-and the feeling was definitely mutual. Still, when she spoke her voice was

I didn't bother to correct her. "I'm so sorry," I started in as we approached the locker.

"Well, that's great," Gwen said, her voice sharp. "But you know, you might want to call your parents. They had no idea where you were either."

"I, uh, left a little early. They weren't up yet." Okay. Half true and half not. Maybe the sentences would sort of cancel each other out. I leaned forward to open my locker. "Look, I really am sorry. You know, you could've called me if you were so worried."

"I
tried.
Your phone was turned off and your voice mail was full." She turned to Jules, her face closed. "So listen, are you gonna pick her up from now on? Because I'd appreciate a little notice."

Jules smirked. "Don't look at me," she said.

"Tanner picked me up," I said quietly. I drove my gaze straight down into the linoleum but it didn't really work. I could still feel Gwen and Alex staring at me, their expressions surprised and judging.

Alex grabbed his backpack from the floor. "I gotta get to class."

"Bye, guy," I said, tapping him on the back as he walked. away.

"What?" I asked. God, why couldn't she just let this one go? She made such a big deal about
everything.

"You know," she said slowly, "there's clueless...and then there's just plain old dumb." She shook her head. "Have a nice life, Sam."

"Omigod, I can't believe she actually said that to you," Jules said as Gwen pushed past us. "That was so rude. I mean, what was that even
about?"

"I don't know," I told her. It was a lie, of course. I knew exactly why Gwen was mad. And I also knew I deserved it.

I blinked, remembering. After pep squad, Jules, Gina and a few of my other new A-list BFFs had headed over to Wendy's to eat. And once I sat

I thought I'd buried the evidence in the trash as soon as I got home, but obviously I hadn't done a very good job.

I swallowed my last bite of Frookie. "It was just a burger," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "A plain burger. I stayed away from the Baconator and didn't even have dessert."

My mother looked at me as if I'd just suggested we open a food court in our living room. "That," she said, placing a judgmental hand on her hip, "is completely beside the point and you know it."

"It's really not a big deal."

"Who are you?" my mother snapped. "Because you're certainly not my daughter.
My
daughter knows that chomping on one fast-food burger is the equivalent of eating fifty-five square feet of rain forest. That's almost the size of our kitchen, Sam!"

"It really wasn't that filling," I muttered, but realized it was a mistake as soon as the words came out of my mouth.

My mother's face twisted with anger.

I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed for the stairs, hoping to avoid the imminent

"Report? What report?"

Good question. I really hadn't had time to come up with anything specific. I reached the top of the stairs and turned slowly around, hoping the altitude change would trigger a strike of genius. "That's what we're trying to figure out." I took a deep breath and exhaled yet another lie. "I was thinking the whole ethanol debate might be the way to go."

My mother frowned. "I don't know," she said slowly. "It's a school night."

"Well, it's a
school
project."
Oh please say yes,
I silently begged.
I know I'm evil and heinous-the sort of person who exploits the environment to forward her own petty social agenda-but
please
don't let that come between me and my date with Tanner Mullins.

"Okay," my mother said, after several seconds. "But I want you home as soon as the library closes."

"Definitely!" I said, making a mental note to find out exactly what time that was.

I closed my bedroom door behind me, then took off my clothes. After a solid ten minutes of hopping, tugging and wriggling in what I'm sure would have impressed onlookers as a spot-on

I slipped-again, easily-back into the Skin and squirted myself with body spray. Still petrified to actually wash the Skin but even more petrified of smelling like the wrestling team, I'd settled for the bath-in-a-bottle alternative. It was definitely the Carpet Fresh approach to personal hygiene, but it was the best I could do.

I pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and what I hoped was a loose-in-a-sexy-sort-of-way T-shirt, and stepped lightly down the stairs to avoid another run in with my mom.

"Sam!"

Obviously my sneaky walk needed a little practice. I turned around, trying hard to keep my face clear of any sort of expression that screamed "I'm so busted!"

"I wanted to give you these before you left," she said, handing me yet another
I Am Not a Plastic Bag
bag stuffed with papers.

"What's this?" I asked, sliding my hands through the green felt straps.

"Just a few articles I've clipped over the years," she explained. "They might help your project."

"That's right," I said, remembering my faux report. "Um, thanks. This is really helpful."