Second Skin (5 page)

"Can I guess?"

"You can try," he said as he eased the car out of the driveway. "But you'll never get it."

"Um, Cape May?"

Alex's face fell. "How did you- Did Gwen say something?"

I laughed. "Lucky guess."

I tilted my head back against the seat. It was January and cold, but the sun was up and it streamed through the car windows, warm and relaxing. I stretched, turning to Alex. "Hey, maybe we should stop by Gwen's and pick her up."

"She's busy," he said a little too quickly.

I sighed. I hated tension between my friends. "Don't be mad," I told him. "She didn't tell, I swear."

"I know." He stuck an arm out of the window, signaling a turn. "But I talked to her last night. She was all excited about going to Reading Terminal. I guess rhubarb's finally in season."

That made sense. The farmers' market was Gwen's home away from home.

"Thanks for doing this," I said after a minute.

"No problem. I figured you could use some cheering up."

I straightened slightly. "Why? I'm not-"

I felt my body relax into the seat cushion. It
was
okay, I decided. After all, it was my sixteen-and-a-quarter birthday.

We got to Cape May around noon and walked along the chilly, mostly empty beach.

"What are you doing?" I asked Alex as he pulled a tiny plastic tube from the pocket of his jeans.

"Zinc oxide," he explained, squirting a strip of bright green lotion onto his palm. "UV rays are surprisingly strong on days like this. Want some?"

I shook my head as he spread the goo across his face. "You do know that stuff's green, right?"

Alex smiled. "Yeah, I grabbed it from Ginger's knapsack. Do I look like the Incredible Hulk?"

I giggled. "More like a string bean." I leaned over and plucked a small white shell out of the sand. "What's this one called?"

Alex glanced over.
"Crepidula fornicata,"
he rattled off automatically. "Slipper shell."

I ran my thumb over the surface, feeling the bumps and ridges.

Alex bent down and picked up a fan-shaped disk.
"Chlamys nobilis,"
he said.

"Now you're just showing off."

Smiling, Alex pulled his arm back and released. The shell whipped through the air and

I turned to him. "Cool. Show me how to do that."

"It's easy," he said, coming up behind me. He dropped a stone into my palm and lifted my arm gently, extending it against his.

I looked around. The beach was completely deserted. School, Kylie Frank, Tanner Mullins...out here, they were all so easy to forget. It was just Alex and me, alone with the sand and the waves.

I jerked away. from him. Where had
that
come from?

"What's wrong?" Alex asked, his forehead wrinkling.

I looked at him, at his bright green skin and smart brown eyes. It wasn't a perfect face. Far from it. His features weren't chiseled like Tanner Mullins's and his nose was definitely too long.

Then again, comparing any face to Tanner Mullins's was hardly fair. It was like doing a taste test between a filet mignon and a Big Mac.

Still, Alex definitely had a certain appeal. He was the sort of guy mothers were always saying nice things about, like, "That boy is gonna make some woman very happy one day."

I looked down at Alex's hand, which was streaked with green grease. Long, wiry fingers fanned out from a wide, round palm. It was, I decided, a goofy-looking hand. Way too goofy for me. I wanted something smoother. More "leading man" than "funny sidekick."

For some reason, the thought made me feel better. I turned toward Alex and smiled.

"Nothing," I said, stepping forward. "Show me."

Every light was on at Kylie's house. Crowds of people were visible through all the windows, and the bricks seemed to vibrate, pulsing with music and excitement.

I straightened. Of course. Tonight was Kylie's party. How could I have forgotten what was sure to be
the
Woodlawn social event of the year? I'd never managed to wrangle an invite, but thanks to homeroom and my here-but-not-here social

From the number of cars, though, the list couldn't have been all that exclusive.

It definitely excluded me, though.

I watched a couple of guys roll a keg across the Franks' lawn.

"I wonder if the cops will shut them down?" Alex mused. His tone was completely neutral, like he didn't care either way.

And he didn't. Alex didn't care about Kylie's party. He didn't care if the cops came, and he definitely didn't care that he hadn't been invited. That last thought would never even occur to him. Not in a million years. In just a few minutes, he'd pull out of my driveway and leave the whole scene behind, without even a backward glance.

He was lucky.

I tried to force myself to think about the day. We'd stayed at the beach until almost nine. Alex had taken me to dinner at a restaurant called the Mad Batter, where we'd stuffed ourselves with huge bowls of clam chowder, crab cakes the size of tennis balls and, because Alex had been

Only now it was ruined. How could I enjoy anything when, in each and every single over-populated room in Kylie Frank's house, Woodlawn history was being made?

And I wasn't even a tiny part of it.

Alex was talking, I realized suddenly. I hadn't heard a word, but his lips moved and now he was staring at me, waiting for some sort of response. Maybe a thank-you for the perfect day. Or a new joke about this being the best quarter birthday any girl could ever wish for.

I stared at him. At his still-green face and the too-long mop of black curls, the tips of which were now tinged with zinc oxide.

And that's when the anger hit-suddenly, inexplicably and almost painfully. It spread over me, poisoning the sweetness of our day.

Why was nothing the way I wanted it to be? Why had I never even come close to breaking my lame eleven o'clock curfew? Why were my friends quirky and offbeat instead of stylish and blond, with sleek cars and the right sort of

Would it have
killed
Kylie Frank to invite me to her party? Of course, to do that she'd first have to acknowledge my existence, but given the fact that we shared a street and a homeroom, you'd
think
she'd figure it out.

It wasn't fair.

I turned my head away from Alex, back toward the party. Beside me, I felt him tense.

"Sam," he said softly. "Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" I asked. "Sorry. What did you say?"

Alex blinked. "Nothing. I just wished you a happy quarter birthday, that's all."

I'm a
terrible person,
I thought. I'm
sitting next to one of the best friends I'll ever have and all I can think about is trading up for an Abercrombie & Fitch model.

"Thanks for today," I said. "It was perfect. Really."

Alex smiled as I pushed open the car door. "Talk to you tomorrow? Remember, you have a geometry test Monday."

I groaned. "Thanks for reminding me."

Alex shrugged. "Call if you need help."

I waved as he pulled out of the driveway. Turning slightly, I took a hesitant step toward Kylie's yard.

I could walk in. Just like that. So what if I

My eyes swept over the house, stopping on the second floor. Through the window I could see Tanner and Kylie standing together, his arm draped across her back. Jules stood on Kylie's other side, smiling adoringly.

They all looked so comfortable, which made sense. The party was their natural habitat.

For the first time that day, I considered--and instantly regretted-my outfit. It didn't help that I was also covered with sand and my hands and face were sticky from the cake.

I took an involuntary step backward. Then another. Before I knew it, I was in my house, heading for the safety of my bedroom. I could hear music playing in the distance, low and teasing.

I got into bed and shoved my head underneath the pillow with so much force I hit the bedpost. It hurt but I didn't care. I was still mad. Mad at Kylie Frank for not wanting to share even a little of herself with me. Mad at my parents for sticking me with socially inferior genes that guaranteed a lifetime of nights identical to this one. And mad at myself for being the sort of person A-listers didn't notice.

And for being the sort of person who cared. Deeply.

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I did was hop out of bed and look out my window. I had a great view of Kylie's house-the side as well as the front and back yards.

At first glance, I was actually a little disappointed. Kylie Frank's house looked fine. Totally fine. The cars, people and music were all gone. The sun was up, so I couldn't tell if any of the lights were still on, but the lawn looked pretty pristine. No toilet paper-strewn shrubs or crushed beer cans in the grass or passed-out bodies lining the driveway. It was just a neat suburban house with a neat suburban lawn. If it had been warm outside, I'm sure I'd have heard birds chirping through the window.

And then I saw it. The keg Tanner and his friends had rolled into the house was now sitting in the middle of the front yard. It was sparkling, which at first I thought was because of the way the sun struck the metal surface. But when I squinted and looked a little closer, I realized the whole keg-and the area around it--was covered with glass.

Kylie Frank sat on the steps of her porch just a few feet away, talking on her cell. Her hands were fluttering around, and after a few seconds, she leapt to her feet and started pacing.

Something was happening. I pressed my ear