It was such a nice gesture, Laura thought. Too bad she had to turn him down.
“The thing is,” she explained, “I’d love to go to Kenyon, or any of the other colleges you suggested. That was never the problem.” She swallowed. “See, I don’t have any money. College is a stretch if I want to attend full-time, without racking up so much debt my mom—” She broke off as her throat closed. She was crying now. “Thanks so much,” she said, her stomach hollow. “But that’s just not my life. I’m a housecleaner, not a prep school kid.”
“Laura,” he said, “sometimes a person’s real life is the life they don’t lead. Have you ever thought about that?”
“No.” Fresh tears spilled onto the receiver. “I—I’m not even sure I know what that means.”
“Yes, you do. It’s a great quote.” He laughed. “Of course, it’s not my great quote—Oscar Wilde said it. But I’m sure he wouldn’t mind my using it in this situation. The point is, I don’t know Laura the housecleaner, but I do know Laura the Fenwick student. And maybe you weren’t officially matriculated, but don’t you think your campus life was real? It certainly seemed real to me.”
“I guess so,” Laura said, sniffling. But the more she thought about it, the more she knew he was right. Her life on campus had been real.
“I think that the person you were in my classroom—and that life you were leading—was one you’d led for years, Laura. In one way or another.”
Laura straightened.
“My advice is simple,” he continued. “If something is important to you—really important—don’t let it go so easily. Somethings are worth a little fight.” He paused. “No matter how scared you are.”
Laura thanked Mr. Stade. She also agreed to speak with him in the next few days about colleges—and financial aid.
But as they hung up, his words rang in her ears—over and over again: Some things are worth a little fight. No matter how scared you are.
That was when she started to run toward the parking lot.
“I have to go,” she shouted at Angie’s back and Willa’s legs.
“I’m leaving for Fenwick,” she called as the girls hoisted themselves out of Yellow Thunder and stared at her in confusion. “Right now.”
38
Put the freshness back.
—Shake n’ Vac
Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all, she thought as she parked outside Caleb’s dorm room.
Laura’s anxiety existed on three levels. First of all, her plan wasn’t really much of a plan. She had no idea what she was going to say once she saw Caleb. She had to apologize, but how? She’d tried to rehearse during the drive, but her mind was a sieve.
Second, she wasn’t supposed to be back on campus. It was part of the arrangement—when she’d left last time, she’d left for good. If campus security caught her, she’d be in serious trouble.
The last leg of her distress had to do with the fact that the station wagon had been unavailable for the trip. Laura had wanted to leave immediately and her mother had been out mailing her Chillin’ for a Million sweepstakes ballot. Angie needed the Dr. Pool van in case any emergency calls came in and so, much to Laura’s horror, she’d been forced to drive Yellow Thunder to Fenwick. Willa and Angie had both lent her their AAA cards—just in case.
Laura climbed out of the car and glanced up at Caleb’s window. His light was on. He was probably in his room, packing for Thanksgiving break. Her heart pounding, she crossed the slick, grassy island that stretched between the pavement and the back of the dorm. Moonlight danced over her as she slipped around the side of the building and in through an open fire door.
Campus security is so pathetic, she thought.
She peeled down the hall and knocked once on Caleb’s door before she had time to process what she’d done.
Still clenched, her hand froze. From deep inside, sharp warning bells sounded. Save yourself the pain.
It was true. Caleb hadn’t tried to get in touch once since she’d left school. True, he didn’t have her number, but he did have Willa’s. She’d assumed he was too angry to call. Or hurt. But it suddenly occurred to her that maybe she’d been flattering herself. Maybe he’d simply moved on.
And then, just like that, Caleb’s door swung open.
Laura smiled. She couldn’t help herself.
Only this time, Caleb didn’t return the favor. He moved aside, allowing Laura to enter.
Well, that’s something, she thought. He could’ve kicked me out.
There was an open suitcase on his bed. Caleb shoved it aside and sat down.
“Well, this is a big surprise,” he said. His voice was cold. “Or wait, which one are you? I think that this time around, I should know from the start. I did help one of you with your schedule.”
Laura ignored his tone. She took a deep breath and forced herself to start—slowly and calmly—from the very beginning. She spread out her life—her real life—as neatly as a tablecloth. She explained her childhood and how, over the years, her bitterness and resentment had grown until she couldn’t appreciate any of the things that she had. And her look-alike, Willa Pogue, had been in the exact same frame of mind when they’d met. The plan had grown from there.
Through it all Caleb sat in silence, his face closed.
“You weren’t a part of it,” Laura said. Her cheeks burned, not the usual apple-red sign of embarrassment, but a deep, nettling pain that cut down through her chest. “I wasn’t supposed to meet someone like you. I wasn’t supposed to meet anyone. I—I just wanted to be like the people who I worked for—just for a while, you know?”
She was so sick of crying, but she couldn’t seem to stop. Caleb looked up at her and, for the first time, Laura noticed the deep purple smudges underneath his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping.
“The thing is,” he said, slowly, “the person I fell in love with doesn’t even exist.”
Laura straightened. “It’s not true,” she said. “When I was with you, that was me.” She looked at him, her eyes wide with apology. “I wanted to tell you. I almost did so many times. I was just worried that when you found out who I was—you know, my family—you’d think—”
Caleb shook his head. “I don’t get it,” he cut in. “I mean, I thought you failed out of school. I thought you were like a bribe away from prep school delinquent. If that didn’t bother me, then why would you think the other stuff would? How big of a snob do you think I am?”
“No! It’s just—I really underestimated you.” Laura shook her head. “I’m sorry. I think I was scared. It’s just that—well, it’s easy for you. You grew up in the circle. I grew up outside the circle . . . well, actually I cleaned the circle, which is kind of worse because you—”
Caleb groaned. “Laura, I don’t know what circle you’re talking about,” he said. “But you’re being ridiculous. I don’t want to be with your name. I never did.” He looked at her. “You really didn’t even give me a chance, that’s what kills me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling. “I know. You have every right to hate me. I messed up.”
“I know. And to be honest, I never liked the name Pogue all that much. It’s stupid.”
He was coming toward her now, closing the distance. His hand lifted her chin as his lips fell softly over hers. Laura’s heart fluttered.
She pulled away. “Are you sure?”
Caleb laughed. “No. Not at all.” He kissed her again, long and deep. Laura felt the worry ebb as she moved her body against his.
“I’m sure, okay?” he said, his mouth against her ear as his hand reached up and toyed with her ponytail.
“So,” she said, “this is what it’s like to feel rich.”
Caleb shrugged. “I guess so. I didn’t know, until I met you.” He squinted as he looked through the window just over her head. “Hey, is that your Trans Am out in the parking lot?”
39
Once she no longer has to act demure and ladylike, the opportunities for a postdeb’s
social life (and love life) are endless.
—The Debutante’s Guide to Life
Six Months Later
lubespecial: so ur really coming?
boardgirl: totally. Spring break.
Flight 2176, arrives SF 5:25 PM.
lubespecial: i can’t believe it.
boardgirl: me neither. and can’t believe we convinced my mom that i won’t be abducted by a gang of west coast hippies. plse thank ur mom 4 talking 2 her, ok? she actually apologized after she hung up. a major first.
lubespecial: no prob. they bonded. had no idea ur mom is golf nut 2. they swapped pointers. thrilling.
boardgirl: no more golf talk, ok?
lubespecial: good rule. c u soon willa pogue
boardgirl: u 2, lucas bennet
•
To Do List—W. Pogue
* HOMEWORK: just do it. Ask Laura and Caleb for help with precalculus – DO NOT let that grade slip below a C!
* CAR STUFF: change oil, Dad’s car
* Mom and Dad – one more appeal for my own Mustang convertible (no, it’s not coarse . . . and I’ll even raise my GPA up to a B . . . okay, B minus)
* Question Angie re: Yellow Thunder – WHY the grinding? We just changed the clutch. . . . Is she shifting too hard???
SPRING BREAK SHOPPING: vintage!
* Defend clothing purchases to Mom, explain that they don’t need to be fumigated by Terminix Pest Control.
* YOUNGS: more Swiffer Wet refills. Remind them about my vacation . . .
* Confirm seat assignment/San Francisco flight. (Get Lube’s mom’s cell in event of extreme emergency? She and Mom seem to be BFF.)
* Hair apptmt – dye? No dye? Hmmmm . . .
* Present for Lube’s family? Mom suggested Godiva but that’s so . . . old me.
40
Lock in the freshness.
—Ziploc Storage Bags
Wesleyan University
Middletown, CT
Foster H. Hillman House
Dear Laura,
It is with great pleasure that we welcome you to the class of 2012! After careful review of your application, we are pleased to offer you the Foster H. Hillman Scholarship. This academic scholarship is offered each year to one incoming freshman whose scholastic record and teacher recommendations impress the Wesleyan admissions committee. Please note that this scholarship extends throughout the course of your four-year tenure at Wesleyan.
Once more, we wish to congratulate you on this very prestigious award. We welcome you to the Wesleyan community!
Best,
William H. Hadley
Executive Director
Foster H. Hillman Scholarship
Caleb – So it looks like I’ll be able to go after all! How far did you say Wesleyan was from Brown?
Published by Delacorte Press
an imprint of Random House Children’s Books
a division of Random House, Inc.
New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2007 by Jessica Wollman
All rights reserved.
Delacorte Press and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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www.randomhouse.com/teachers
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition of this work as follows:
Wollman, Jessica.
Switched / Jessica Wollman.
p. cm.
Summary: Laura and Willa, born the same night seventeen years ago on opposite sides of Darien, Connecticut, are both unhappy with their lives and when they discover they look remarkably alike, they decide to try out one another’s lives for four months.
[1. Social classes—Fiction. 2. Mothers and daughters—Fiction. 3. Household employees—Fiction. 4. Boarding schools—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction. 6. Connecticut—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.W8355Swi 2007
[Fic]—dc22
2006026426
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
eISBN: 978-0-375-84903-9
v3.0
Switched Page 19
