The Islanders by Katherine Applegate Read Free Book Online

fun. There was one shot in particular that caught Nina’s eye, showing both her parents, separated by two little girls apparently punching each other out on the floor. Neither was looking down at the kids, but there was an expression between the two of them, both cocking their eyes at each other, identical looks of love mixed with amusement and maybe a little pride in the two brats at their feet.
    Nina set that picture aside.
    But she still hadn’t seen what she was looking for. She dug out another pile, more shots of Claire, looking as solemn as their father, even as a tiny child—serious, thoughtful, aloof.
    â€œHaven’t changed, have you?” Nina said, smiling wryly at Claire. Did you stand out in the yard staring up at the clouds eventhen? Did you manage to look down on everyone around you when you were just two feet tall? I’ll bet you did.
    Then, from the pile in Nina’s hand, one picture fell out. A skinny, gray-eyed girl with braces on her teeth, wearing a dress that revealed long, knobby legs, one with a Band-Aid on the knee. She was twisting a hank of hair around one finger. Nina turned the picture over. A note in ink said Nina. 11th b’day.
    She leaned back on her pillows, holding the picture before her with both hands.
    â€œSo. This is what Benjamin thinks I look like.” Nina smiled ruefully. “You ain’t exactly Karlie Kloss, kid,” she told her image.
    Eleventh birthday. Just two months before her mother died. Had her mother been there that day? Or had she been in the hospital? Nina couldn’t remember.
    She focused on the eyes in the picture. They were cocky, challenging eyes. “You think you own the planet, don’t you?” she whispered.
    If only that little girl had known what lay ahead. It would be only months until her mother died. Only a little while longer than that till she would be sent away to stay with her aunt and uncle.
    For her own good.
    â€œIf only you knew, little Nina,” she whispered.
    She got up and walked over to the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door. She faced it and held the picture up beside her face.
    Nina looked at her own present reflection and the small reflection of her past.
    â€œYou lost the braces,” she said. “Filled out a little, which you never thought you’d do. The legs aren’t quite as much like toothpicks, but now you have to shave them.”
    She realized the unlit cigarette was still dangling from her lips. “And you picked up one or two bad habits since then. Of course, you got rid of the Barbie dolls, so I guess it evens out.”
    She gazed into the eyes of five years ago. And back to the eyes in her mirror. Still challenging, still a little cocky, she noted, smiling wryly. She hadn’t changed so much since then.
    Then the smile faded and disappeared. “Only right now you look a little sad, Nina,” she said.
    She tucked the picture into her nightstand drawer. She would take it out and look at it the next time she had one of those dreams.

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Nina
    Here’s the dream I call dream number two.
    First of all, you have to get that dream feel, if you know what I mean. Where cause and effect aren’t quite as clear as they are in real life. Where things can be sudden or very, very slow. Where you know things without knowing how you know.
    It’s always very gloomy in this dream. Like watching an old black-and-white movie on TV and turning the brightness knob way down. I see myself as if I’m some other person in the room. I see myself younger, at least at first, and my mom is squatting down, fussing with my clothes, trying to straighten this ridiculous bow on the front of a ridiculous dress, wiping my face clean, telling me to smile and stand up straight.
    And while she’s doing this, the little girl is tugging at her clothes, undoing all the straightening. She’s playing with her hair, leaving it tangled and wild. And she’s