Second Skin (8 page)

This is what I told myself as I snuck across the Franks' yard and swiped the spare key from underneath the flowerpot, like I'd seen Kylie do a hundred times before.

Even though I was sure no one was home, I tiptoed all the way to Kylie's bedroom, just to be sure. I brushed aside the do not disturb sign that hung from the doorknob, noting with satisfaction that it had been swiped from a Marriott.

I stood there for a minute, absorbing the colorful terrain that was Kylie Frank's wardrobe. There were tiny pleated skirts and satin skinny pants, plus about a dozen pairs of jeans. The whole spread looked like an "after" snapshot from a
Seventeen
closet makeover. I could just picture the article in my head: "Go from Forgettable to Fashionista with Just a Few of These Must-Haves!"

Shoving aside the hangers, I tucked myself in between a navy coat and a bright red wrap dress.

And then I waited.

It was actually really boring. I mean, in the movies, break-ins are always these heart-pounding, nail-biting affairs, filled with
Mission:

The scene was hardly movieworthy. It was barely even soap opera material.

I was braiding my hair for the tenth time when, finally, the energy in the room seemed to shift. There were footsteps in the hall and then the door swung open.

"I'm so sorry!" Kylie Frank was saying as she breezed in. I could hear her footsteps on the car-
pet,
then a thud as she dropped something-a bag, maybe-onto the floor. "I wanted to meet you, but Tanner had a game. He gets really upset when I don't watch him play. Then he wanted to work out afterwards, so I got stuck at the gym..."

I peeked through a crack in the door. Kylie stood over her bed, iPhone at her ear. "I know, I know. You should definitely hate me. It's just I'm so busy all the time. I really have to get a grip." She paused for a response, then sighed. "I swear, we'll hit the mall tomorrow, okay, Ellie? Listen, I gotta go. I'm all sweaty and I've got, like, a million hours of homework. See ya."

Kylie pressed a few buttons on her phone, then tossed it onto the bed. I watched anxiously

"You have sixteen new messages," chirped the voice-mail woman.

"Hey Kylie, it's Matt. Just calling to say hi. Hope the move went well ..."

Matt Kane. The guy Kylie had dumped for Tanner. I thought back to that other morning in homeroom. What had Ella said?
Matt really likes
you...

Based on his tone, I had to agree. I barely knew Matt-and I was sure he wouldn't know me if I fell on him-but I couldn't help feeling a little sorry for the guy. It was obvious he was trying to leave one of those light-and-breezy sort of messages. But what was even more obvious was that he was completely head-over-heels for Kylie Frank. His voice was a dead giveaway.

Kylie reached for the phone, snapping it shut with a groan. When she turned around, her expression caught me off guard.

She looked sad, not annoyed.

Scooping her bag off the floor, she fished out a framed picture. I couldn't make out what it was, but it seemed to cheer her up.

There was a knock on the door, and then Mrs. Frank poked her head into the room. Her platinum hair was twisted into a knot and she wore a tan suit with chocolate suede pumps, just the sort of outfit I'd imagined she owned during our first meeting.

"Hey," Kylie said, turning to face her mother.

Mrs. Frank's gaze slid from the pile of notebooks scattered across the floor to a neat column of boxes stacked in a corner of the room.

"I'm about to start dinner," she said. Her voice was clipped and reminded me of when she'd mistaken me for one of Kylie's friends. "Have you finished your homework?"

"Not yet. I'm working on it."

Mrs. Frank frowned. "Those boxes aren't going to just pop open and unpack themselves, Kylie."

"I
know.
" A slight edge had crept into Kylie's voice.

"Well, we've been here for a month. Your father and I are almost done with every other

"I
wasn't."

Mrs. Frank turned and placed her hand on the doorknob. "I'm heading back downstairs. I thought I'd just make some pasta and a salad."

"Sure," Kylie said. I could tell she was relieved. She'd definitely gotten off easy.

"Please don't make me take away your phone," her mother said quietly.

She closed the door behind her and I watched as Kylie sank back down onto the bed.

Was Kylie wishing, like I had so many times, that she had a different sort of mother? A mom you could take shopping without fear of public humiliation? The sort of mom who offered advice without judgment and enjoyed the occasional ice cream pig-out slash heart-to-heart?

Maybe Kylie Frank and I shared something else in common besides nine hundred dollars and the secret to popularity.

Kylie walked across the room through an arched doorway I assumed led to her bathroom. A few seconds later, I heard the sound of water

There was the Skin-smooth and perfect. I watched as she reached behind her neck and unzipped, then peeled the whole thing off. It hung limply in her hands as she stepped across the room, opened the bottom drawer of her dresser and tucked it neatly inside.

My heart pounded as Kylie stepped back inside the bathroom and shut the door.

It was now or never.

There was only one small problem. Okay, two: my legs had stopped working,
and
I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

I took a deep breath.
I've never stolen anything in my life,
I thought.
And, really, what has Kylie Frank ever done to me?

I remembered Kylie's face as her mother was lecturing her. She'd looked small, somehow. Not nearly as poised. Or perfect.

I pushed myself onto my feet. I couldn't do it. It just wasn't going to happen.

I walked across Kylie's room, fully committed to my decision.

I was halfway to the door when it hit me. Full force.

Popularity was everywhere: on the friendship collages that wallpapered Kylie's bedroom; the twelve new e-mails that had just popped up

Kylie was
kissing
Tanner Mullins.

I stared at the picture. It was a great shot. Tanner leaned into Kylie, their faces flushed with excitement. Kylie's head tilted off to one side, playful in a sexy, kitten-heels sort of way.

They looked so perfect. So romantic. So very, very high school...

I turned my back on the picture and retraced my steps across the room.

Slowly, deliberately, I opened the chest and grabbed the Skin.

I held my breath and tiptoed out of the room. A door was open at the end of the hall and I could hear the murmur of voices. Kylie's parents, I guessed.

I stepped carefully down the stairs, trying to avoid any attention-grabbing creaks, and shot out the front door.

And then I ran.

And it was mine. All mine. When I got back to my room, I shut my door and spread the Skin out on my bed.

"What happens now?" I asked, half expecting the thing to answer me.

I stared at the Skin. If I put it on, what would my reflection tell me? Would my life instantly change? And how about my appearance? Kylie had looked pretty much the same in and out of the Skin, but maybe I was different. Anything seemed possible.

You're a thief. It doesn't belong to you. Give it back.

The words popped into my head before I could stop them.

It was true. I'd stolen popularity.

My heart thumped inside my chest.

It wasn't too late to return it. Sure, I'd have to sneak back into the Franks' house, which was definitely pressing my luck. But Kylie was probably still in the shower. If I left now-right now-
1

And nothing would change. That was a definite. I'd be stuck with myself-not the new-and-improved version the Skin promised. I'd live out the rest of high school craving everything popular-and getting Gwen's brownies and computer Scrabble with Alex instead.

"I can't return popularity," I whined aloud, sounding exactly like a four-year-old at Toys "R" Us. "Who does that?"

I glanced down at my shoes-white canvas Keds. That said it all.
I
was a pair of Keds-colorless, plain and almost painfully flat.

Kylie Frank, on the other hand, was a stiletto.

Time for a shoe swap.

I went over to my desk, shut down my computer and turned off my phone. I was pretty sure Kylie had no idea what my e-mail or IM address was, but I wasn't taking any chances. The fewer ways to track me down, the better.

I walked back to the bed and picked up the Skin. And that was when I remembered the rules. Kylie had mentioned something about a set of rules. And a user's manual.

I had neither.

Okay, so I hadn't thought the plan completely through.