Sophomore Switch(29)
Author: Abby McDonald

“You know, I figured I’d check out your campaign.” I wave a bunch of flyers as evidence.

“That’s great!” Her face kind of relaxes. “I didn’t think this was your sort of thing.”

I bet she didn’t.

“Well, it’s kind of an important cause, so . . .” I’m not lying — the angry feminists may have sucked all the life out of the thing, but I do actually see their point.

“Good for you.” Carrie seems to be looking at me with a new expression. “And it’s really admirable for you to give up your time, when you won’t even be around in a couple of months.”

I shift uncomfortably. “Well, I guess it’s like you said: it’s the principle of the thing.”

Carrie’s face shifts into a full-on smile. “Brilliant! Come on, we’re losing the others.” She pulls me down the hallway and out onto the street after the group, talking all the time about campaigns and patriarchy. My plan to ditch is totally screwed.

The lecture halls are based in a huge old building with marble floors and statues carved into the walls. There’s only one main entrance, a towering lobby with big wooden doors, so Carrie decides that’s our best bet for maximum exposure and ushers us to the ornate railings that stretch across the back wall.

“Here.” The washed-out girl pops up beside us and pulls an armful of chains from her bag.

“You came prepared?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t just carry them around for everyday use.

“Maybe.” The girl winks. “Here, drape these around you. Don’t worry,” she adds, catching my expression as she laces some handcuffs through the grille and fixes me into them. “They don’t lock; they’re just for effect.”

By now a curious crowd has gathered around us, and I can see staff talking on the phone. Carrie grabs her megaphone and begins to yell.

“Save the women’s health center! Women of Oxford, say no!”

The other girls join in, chanting along until the room is a chorus of loud shouts and stamped feet. I have to admit, it’s kind of exciting to be in the middle of all the drama, although I make sure to shrink back, out of sight behind a pillar. The last thing I need is to get ID’d as part of this.

After about ten minutes of demonstrating, a stern woman approaches from the front desk. She pauses a moment, watching us, then cuts through to reach Carrie. They murmur off to the side, the woman showing her several pages of printed type.

“OK, people, time to clear out.” Carrie returns. The protestors moan. “We’re breaking city bylaws doing this. They’ve called the police, and we’ve made our point now. Come on.” People sigh, but they begin to pack up.

I tug against my handcuffs. They don’t move.

“I can’t,” I whisper, my stomach sinking at warp speed.

“What?” Carrie turns back to me.

“I said, I can’t!” I’m rattling the chains like crazy now, trying to figure out when they locked. They weren’t supposed to lock! “I can’t leave!”

I panic. The rest of the girls are looking over at me, and campus security is heading toward us. But the freaking handcuffs stay clamped around my wrists.

“She’s right!” Carrie suddenly declares with a cry, pumping her fist in the air. “We can’t leave! Not until the board agrees to hear our case!”

“Yeah!” The other girls begin to whoop and holler.

“Not until the female students of Oxford get the welfare services they deserve!”

Oh boy. Carrie’s in full flow beside me, but I just want the ground to open up.

“Not until we’re respected as equals, until the outdated patriarchy in charge of our futures understands that we will not be ignored!”

Security pushes their way through the crowd and takes hold of us.

“Let go of the railing,” a burly guard demands.

“I can’t.” I shrug apologetically. “Seriously.” I rattle the handcuffs for effect as Carrie is hoisted over another guard’s shoulder and carted away.

“Natasha is right,” she screams to the crowd. “We cannot leave!”

They all turn and look at me.

“Natasha! Natasha!” DeeDee begins to chant. The other girls join in. I sink to the floor.

“Natasha! Natasha!”

Invisible. Right.

From: totes_tasha

To: EMLewis

Subject: About that blending-in thing . . .

Attached: studentdemo.jpg

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A lecture by renowned astrophysicist Brian Lupen was postponed yesterday after a group seized control of the lecture halls for a sit-in, protesting the forthcoming closure of the women’s health centre. . . .

hey, em.

see that brunette blob half hidden behind the pillar? that’s me: the one chained to the building. long story, but i guess i’ll have to work harder at this invisible thing!

what’s up in cali?

-t-

From: EMLewis

To: totes_tasha

Subject: Well done!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You got involved in the demonstration? Good for you! I can imagine how wound up Carrie and her crew must be, but it’s definitely a worthy cause. Things with me seem to be good — I’m definitely making progress on becoming a true California girl. You probably wouldn’t recognize me, if you’d seen me to begin with, I suppose! Blond hair, new clothes . . . Now I suppose I have to start being more laid-back about things. It’s not easy when my study partner is a temperamental artiste, but what can I do?

Keep me up to date.

X Em

16

Carla appears at my door at nine thirty on Friday night with an expression of extreme determination fixed on her face. She pauses for a moment to raise her eyebrow at the sight of me in a bubblegum-pink velour tracksuit, then stalks into the room, snapping gum.

“Get dressed. We’re heading out.” Looking over at the episode of America’s Next Top Model that I have playing, she passes me a small envelope. “And then you can tell me how they brainwashed you, but, first, clothing.”

I peer into the envelope and pull out a ticket. “Jared Jameson!” I squeal. “He’s amazing!”

Carla rolls her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. The opening act is already on, so move it.”

I quickly go to my closet and pull down a pair of jeans, my initial excitement — as always — overtaken by rational analysis.