Read Online Sophomore Switch by Abby McDonald - Free Book Online Page B

with the tiny metal symbols. I’m about to launch into an explanation, but the girl nods, her eyes thickly lined with purple ink.
    “A thunderbolt and an owl — that’s from the Greeks, right? Zeus and his daughter Athena.”
    I grin, surprised. “Right!”
    “What classes are you taking?” She nods at my books.
    “Film,” I admit. “These are just for fun.”
    “Huh.” Studying me, she pauses, then holds out her hand. “I’m Carla. Carla Reyes.”
    “Emily Lewis.” I shake, feeling strange at the formality.
    “Good to meet you.” She grins. “Now, I better get back to this.” She glares at the thick textbook. “Parliamentary democracies won’t learn themselves.”
    I deflate a little. My brief chat with Carla is the sum total of my social interaction that week. “Wait, is that Tsebelis?” I ask, turning over the textbook.
    “You know it?”
    “Intimately.” I grimace at the memory. “It killed me last term.”
    “So you know what the hell they’re going on about with comparative factors and all that?”
    “It took a while, but yes.” I nod. “I could lend you my notes, if you want.”
    Carla bounces up. “Seriously?”
    “I’ve got them all on my computer.” I shrug. “I could print you off a copy. And if you’re studying that, you’ll probably need the material on Lijphart and Sartori as well.”
    “Girl, you’d be saving my butt.” Talking at full volume now, Carla grins at me and sweeps her notebooks into a purple patent bag. “Let’s go.”
    I decide that even Morgan doesn’t have enough stamina to still be naked back in our room, so I follow Carla out of the building.
    “You know, you’re the first person who hasn’t asked me about my accent,” I realize, hurrying to keep up as she strides ahead down the busy pavement.
    She shrugs. “I figure everyone came here from someplace else.”
    “Did you?”
    Carla snorts. “Do I look like one of those girls?” She shakes her head, hair shimmering in the sun. “L.A.,” she explains. “Inglewood. I wanted to stay and go to UCLA, but this place offered more scholarship money.”
    “So you’re a first-year? I mean, freshman,” I correct myself.
    “Yup.” Carla comes to a halt by a crowded coffee stand. “Hey, Rico, what’s up?”
    “Nothin’ much, girl.” The boy on duty wipes his hands on his apron and gives Carla an adoring smile. “You want your usual?”
    “Sure, and . . .” She turns to me expectantly.
    “Oh, a latte would be great. Decaf,” I add, remembering my sister’s lectures about caffeine being one step away from crack when it comes to addiction.
    “Doesn’t that negate the whole point of coffee?” Carla laughs before turning back to Rico. “But you heard her.”
    “Coming up.” He sets to work, the machine spluttering away as Carla surveys me.
    “So, do you just hang out in libraries taking pity on us poli sci kids?”
    I smile self-consciously. “I suppose so. The guardian angel of democracy essays, that’s me.”
    “And there’s no catch?” Carla is still looking like she’s testing me.
    “Why would there be?”
    She smirks. “You’re new to town, I can tell.” I must look puzzled, because she adds, “In Southern Cali, there’s always a catch. Don’t worry.” She takes our coffees and pays the boy. “You’ll learn.”
    “Oh.” I sip my drink carefully. “So what’s the catch to this?”
    “The coffee?” Carla raises an eyebrow. “Straight swap: your notes for the drink.”
    “I can live with that,” I agree, warming to her boldness.
    “Cool.” She strides off again at double speed, leaving me rushing to catch up. “Now tell me about Oxford — full of entitled jackasses, am I right?”

I can tell my dress is all wrong before we even get inside. We’re waiting in the street by the hotel for the rest of Holly’s friends, and snaking down the block are groups of guys in tuxedos and girls tripping along in heels and long gowns; only thin wraps protecting against