The Stepsister by R.L. Stine EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: R.L. Stine
- Language: English
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
“I hate my hair!”
Emily Casey made an exasperated face at herself in the mirror and tossed
her hairbrush across the room.
“You’re just freaked out because Jessie and Rich are coming,” Nancy said,
lying on her stomach on the bed, an old copy of Sassy magazine in front of
“No. I hate my hair!” Emily insisted. Scowling, she walked over to the bed
and picked the hairbrush up from the carpet. “It looks like shredded wheat,”
she said, returning to the full-length mirror on the closet door and beginning
to brush again.
“How do you know what shredded wheat looks like?” Nancy asked, not
looking up from the magazine. “You don’t eat shredded wheat. You don’t eat
“Then why am I so fat?” Emily wailed, pushing at the sides of her hair
with her hand.
“You’re not fat,” Nancy said, flipping the pages. “You’re just not petite
like Mom and me. You’re big-boned. You’re tall. You’re—”
“Fat,” Emily said glumly. She knew she wasn’t really fat. She just felt like
complaining. Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe she was just freaked out because
her new stepsister and stepbrother were coming to stay. She hated it when
Nancy was right.
“I hate it when you’re right,” she said aloud. “Why do you have to sound
like such a big sister?”
“Next you’ll complain about your hands,” Nancy said, closing the
magazine and tossing it to the floor.
“How they’re too big. That’s what always comes next. First your hair, then
your size, then your big, ugly hands.”
Emily sighed. “My hair is just too fine. It won’t fall. It won’t bounce. It
won’t do anything. Stop making fun of me.”
“What’s a big sister for?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said dryly. She laughed.
“You look okay,” Nancy said. “Where’d you get that short skirt? From my
“No. It’s mine. I think.” Emily adjusted it nervously, then pulled up the
black tights she wore underneath it.
“Since when do you wear skirts?” Nancy asked, pulling herself up to a
sitting position on the edge of the bed.
“I wanted to dress up. You know. Make a good impression.”
“You really are nervous,” Nancy said with a smug smile. She stood up and
walked over to the mirror. She was wearing designer jeans that emphasized
her slight, boyish figure, and a pale green turtleneck sweater that looked
sensational against her copper-red hair. Unlike Emily’s, Nancy’s hair was
straight and smooth and always fell right into place at the touch of a comb.
“Mom baked a cake,” Emily said. “Guess she’s nervous too.”
“It’ll probably taste like cement.”
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