Sophomore Switch(11)
Author: Abby McDonald

“How about Christian?”

I tune back in to the girls’ banter.

“Hell no! Remember what happened at Christmas?”

“Right. Ali? Lulu gave him a good rep.”

“Maybe but, like, she’s not exactly an expert.”

“Ha, so true.”

“Ooh, there’s Sam.” Morgan looks toward the snack stand. “Cute.”

“And single,” Lexi notes.

“And no psycho exes.”

“Or STDs.”

“Perfect,” Morgan decides. She takes my arm and propels me forward. “You can get him to take you to the new Jennifer Aniston movie.”

“I what?” I don’t have time to ask what she means because I suddenly find myself in front of a tall boy with spiky, wet blond hair. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of fluorescent surf shorts and a shark’s tooth necklace.

“Hi, Sam,” Lexi and Morgan chorus.

“Hey.” Sam’s face widens into a broad grin. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Morgan chirps. “Just showing Em here around. She’s from England,” she adds helpfully.

Sam looks at me with new interest. “England, cool.”

I nod. Morgan nudges me.

“Hi,” I say, attempting not to stare at his chest. Surely he has to be on steroids to have that sort of definition?

“So how do you like it here?”

“Oh, it’s lovely.” I realize that my accent has become more defined and arched. Another few weeks and I’ll sound like I’m aristocracy.

“We’ll catch you later, at the bonfire, right?” Lexi interrupts, flicking her hair back.

“Absolutely.” Sam nods.

“Awesome.” Lexi beams, and then Morgan drags me away.

“Perfect,” she decides. “Now he’s had a look at you, has time to ask around. And tonight you can make a move.”

“Look, guys, really —”

“Come on, Em!” Lexi scolds me. “What are you going to do, just mope around after your ex? Have some fun.”

“It’s not like he won’t be out getting whatever he can,” Morgan adds, pulling a couple of cans from the drinks cooler.

“And you could do worse than Sam. He’s a sweetie.”

I stand mute against the onslaught and stare at a rack of sweets. Their world of casual hookups is a galaxy away from the awkward friends-but-maybe-more scene I know. To just start flirting with a random stranger? You might as well ask me to solve nuclear fusion. Even with Sebastian, we only got together romantically after six months of fraught friendship and silent pining. There are plenty of girls who can go pull a guy on the dance floor or in a dark corner of a bar, but no matter what continent I’m on, I am certainly not one of them.

When dusk settles, we pack up and drive over to a more secluded stretch of shoreline where a crowd of people are already clustered around a bonfire. I tail silently as the girls greet their friends, recognizing faces from around our block of flats and names from Morgan’s gossip.

The night is warm, and people are sprawled on the sand in college sweatshirts and skirts; some couples already intertwined, while the party girls shriek and flit between groups.

“Glad you came, right?” Brooke passes me a red paper cup of Coke. I nod, deciding that was more a statement than a question.

“It was kind of weird for me adjusting when I was a freshman.” Brooke’s face glows in the reflection from the fire as she watches the crowd. “I’m from this super-tiny town in Idaho,” she adds in a whisper. “But I always wanted to go to college in California, so I figured everything out pretty quickly. You’ll have fun if you just, you know, go with it.”

“Hey, England.” Sam comes up behind us and drapes an arm over my shoulder. I stiffen.

“Ooh, Chandra!” Brooke does a bad job of pretending to spy somebody across the group. “I’ve got to catch up with her. You’ll be OK?”

“I’ll look after her,” Sam promises.

“Cool, I’ll catch you later.” She speeds away, leaving me alone with the surf god. I turn and try to look relaxed. He’s wearing a pale-blue polo shirt, the same shade as his eyes, and objectively I have to agree with Lexi. He’s cute.

“Having a good time?” Sam asks, moving his arm away to brush back his fringe. “I was going to bring you a drink, but . . .” He gestures to my full cup.

“Oh, right. Thanks anyway.” I busy myself taking a sip.

“You must feel a long way from home.”

I pause. His tone is warm, sincere, and he’s looking down like he’s actually interested in my response. My nerves unravel a little.

“A little,” I admit. “Everything here is very . . . relaxed.”

“What?” He grins. “Don’t tell me that whole stereotype of uptight English people is actually true!”

I laugh, warming to him. “I’m afraid so. I’m still sort of adjusting.”

“You’re doing great so far,” Sam assures me. “Bonfire on the beach, some beers — you’ll be a real Californian in no time.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“You want to sit down?”

I nod, and he leads me to a free space on one of the logs. Sam sits close, the sides of our bodies pressed together as he tells me about growing up in a small beach town.

“It sounds great,” I say, distracted by the heat of his torso. “We lived in the middle of the countryside, nothing but rolling hills all around. I’m not exactly a beach girl.”

Sam laughs. “I don’t know.” He slides his arm back around me and leans closer to whisper in my ear. “You looked pretty cute out there.”

I glance up. He’s looking at me with a flirtatious smile, moving his other hand to brush back some of my hair. We’re surrounded by people, but that doesn’t seem to matter as he slowly tilts down again, this time so that his lips graze the edge of my mouth.

And then I panic.

“I need to find Morgan,” I exclaim, leaping up. “I’ll be right back!”

I catch a glimpse of his confusion before I dash away, weaving through the crowd until he’s out of sight.

What on earth was that?

I gulp. Shoving my hands deep in my pockets, I drift away from the group. Their noise fades slightly as I near the ocean, settling cross-legged on a stretch of warm sand and watching the inky water.

Why didn’t I just kiss him? Morgan was right — I do need to get over Sebastian, so why did I freeze up the moment Sam made a move? Sam is nice, smart enough, and far more attractive than any boy I could find back in England, but no, I had to bolt like a petrified schoolgirl.