Read Online The Islanders by Katherine Applegate - Free Book Online Page A

there?” Aisha’s voice filtered down from above.
    â€œNo, but someone’s going to if I don’t get off this stairwell!” Nina yelled. A businesswoman turned to look at her. “PMS,” Nina explained.
    â€œI thought you didn’t believe in PMS as an excuse,” Zoey said. “You never let me get away with it.”
    â€œI don’t believe in it when it’s you,” Nina said. “Only when it’s me.”
    â€œThat sounds fair.”
    â€œLater I’m going to get a high-powered rifle, climb up on the roof, and shoot passersby while babbling about some conspiracy.”
    â€œBefore you do that, do you think you can read to me for an hour or so?” Benjamin asked.
    The line began to move down the stairs at last. “Sure, Benjamin,” Nina said. “Just let me check in at home and change into something more comfortable than this full-length, diamond-studded, Marchesa dress I’m wearing.” Nina looked down at her oversized shorts and baggy, layered top.
    â€œHey, don’t try to fool me,” Benjamin chided. “I know those aren’t real diamonds.”
    Nina got off the boat and headed toward her house. Claire was heading to the same destination, of course, but half a block behind. It would never have occurred to either girl to walk together.
    She stepped inside the large, well-decorated entryway and peeked to the right, into her father’s dark, book-lined study. He wasn’t there.
    â€œAnyone home?” she yelled without much interest. There was no answer. It was Janelle’s day off and her father would either have to wait for the next ferry home or catch the water taxi.
    Nina slung her island bag with its load of books onto the antique oak dressing stand and headed straight down the hall to the kitchen. Lunch at school had involved dead cow, which she did not eat. So she was hungry now for some dead peanut.
    She noticed the answering machine on the counter blinking twice. Two messages.
    â€œFood first,” she said. In the refrigerator she found raspberry preserves. With bread and peanut butter she made herself a sandwich and was just taking a first bite when she heard Claire come in the front door.
    â€œAnyone home?” Claire asked.
    â€œMe.”
    â€œBesides you.”
    â€œJust me and my sandwich,” Nina said, taking a second bite.
    â€œHave you checked the machine yet?”
    â€œGo for it,” Nina mumbled through a sticky lump of Jif.
    Claire pushed the play button. What came on was the truncated, last few seconds of a machine-produced message.
    â€œ. . . so we hope you will take advantage of this special opportunity to consider switching to AT&T. Don’t forget: switching is free. Thank you.”
    After an electronic beep, the second message began.
    â€œHi, is anyone home? If anyone is home, please pick up. All right, I guess no one’s home . . .”
    â€œThat would explain why we have the machine on,” Nina muttered.
    â€œ. . . Anyway, Burke, if this is your machine, this is Elizabeth calling. I just wanted to let you know that Mark and I will be coming in Sunday, probably late morning if the traffic isn’t too bad. We look forward to seeing you and the girls. Bye-bye.”
    â€œAre you trying to mangle that sandwich?” Claire asked, staring at Nina disapprovingly.
    Nina looked at the mess in her hand. She had crushed the sandwich, and now jelly and peanut butter were oozing through her fingers. She threw it into the trash and began washing her hands in the sink.
    â€œAre you okay?” Claire asked.
    â€œFine,” Nina said.
    Claire sighed. “Great. Relatives. Well, there’s no way to get out of it.”
    â€œDon’t you like them?” Nina asked suddenly.
    Claire shrugged. “They’re relatives. Which means they think they have the right to ask me a lot of dumb, personal questions and tell a lot of boring