This is the only place you can read the first chapter of my upcoming book, Undercover 101! This book is a wild ride. Evie, our intrepid heroine, is on a mission to make the campus heartthrob and captain of the hockey team fall for her…and then break his heart. To find out why, how, and if she succeeds, check out Undercover 101.
1. The Nerdiest Girl at Monarch
Evelyn Smith
Sunlight warms my eyelids as I awaken. It's another day in paradise, also known as beautiful Monarch College. I throw back my covers and sit up, bare feet hitting the cold linoleum floor.
“God, you are the epitome of ‘woke up like this,’” grumbles my roommate, Annie Gilbert. She's lying on her back, still snuggled under her covers and scrolling through her phone.
“Am I?” I’m not quite certain of what that phrase means, but I don’t ask Annie to define it. She’s not a morning person, and I’ve already asked her enough cultural questions in the mere two weeks we’ve lived together.
I rise and pull on my satin robe, then look out the window. The campus spreads out before me with stone buildings, green lawns, and trees rustling in the September breeze. The charming town of St. Viola is visible just beyond campus. This is exactly where I've longed to be for years, and yet…my life still is not what I had hoped for.
I spent my entire life moving to different parts of eastern Europe while being homeschooled by my mother. I fervently believed that once I moved back to Minnesota, where my mother was born and where I visited my great-grandmother for years, that my life would fall into place. I’d get all the things I’d dreamed of: intellectually challenging classes, a best friend, a supportive group of friends, and even a boyfriend.
But so far, all I have is the classes, which haven’t even been difficult yet. I really like Annie, but I’m not sure how much she likes me back.
“Want to go to breakfast together?” I grab my toiletry kit, ready for my shower.
She groans, but I know she’ll be ready by the time I get back. Annie and I were assigned to be roommates on the basis of a very rudimentary questionnaire, but we do have a lot in common. We both enjoy crafting, Gilmore Girls, and the Brontë sisters. Still, there’s a barrier between us. Annie is prickly and opinionated, so fingers crossed that her final judgement of me will be positive.
I skip out of our room and run straight into a guy.
“Blyn,” I squeak. I'm still not used to living in Humphrey Hall, where I can encounter men before my first coffee. There's no way that my father knew that my residence was going to be co-ed, or he would have insisted I upgrade my robe game to something armoured.
It's our next-door neighbour, Dan. He blinks at me. He's wearing only pajama pants and a towel around his neck. This is the first bare male chest I've seen close up, and frankly, it's a little disappointing. Dan is concave in places that I expected to be convex, and that sprinkle of reddish hair looks like something he forgot to rinse off. I drop my gaze and end up looking at his striped crotch. Gah, I don't want to look there either!
“What did you say? Bleep?” he asks.
“I meant to say hi,” I lie, to cover up my inadvertent Slavic exclamation. I mess up in moments of stress or surprise, which means that I would make a terrible asset. I mumble an apology as I rush into the communal bathroom, and lock the door before realizing that this is exactly where Dan was headed. Luckily there are several identical bathrooms that he can choose from.
I wash away my embarrassment in the shower. On my way back, the hall is blessedly empty.
Annie is now wearing a purple Monarch sweatshirt over her pajamas with her strawberry-blonde hair up in messy bun. One way that we differ is in our opinions of what constitutes a public wardrobe. Other than the unlucky Dan, nobody gets to see my sleepwear. I lay out my outfit for the day: white blouse, pink mohair cardigan, and black satin pants.
“Evelyn.”
“Yes?” I turn around, and Annie is right there with hands on her hips.
“I dare you to wear your pjs to breakfast.”
My eyes widen. “That wouldn’t be proper.” My father instilled the importance of public appearances in me, and I’ve never deviated from it. But clothing is so casual here. Students even wear pajama pants to early classes.
“Who cares? Look, the whole time we’ve lived together, you’ve been ridiculously perfect. You look beautiful from the moment you wake up, you’re nice to everyone, and you never say anything bad about people. Not even Vanessa.” She names the snobbiest woman on our residence floor. “You study like a maniac, and I’ve never seen you drink. I want to get to know the real Evelyn.”
Well, if wearing pajama pants is the way to Annie’s heart, I’ll do it. She’s grumpy and bossy, but I admire her decisiveness.
I still put on my bra and panties of course, then don my best floral cotton pajamas from a Paris department store. I add a Monarch sweatshirt that matches Annie’s.
“This is more like it,” Annie declares. She puts her arm through mine and we stomp in unison down the hallway, giggling the whole time. It’s exactly the silliness I had hoped for from female friendships.
The cafeteria at Humphrey Hall is only half-full, and nobody notices my casual attire. We line up to get our meals. I have oatmeal exactly as I did at home, but now I top it with a sprinkle of Honey Nut Cheerios, the cereal my Nan used to buy for me when I visited her here. I fill my stainless tumbler with black coffee, the elixir of life.
We sit down across from each other. I inhale the earthy scent of coffee and then take a long sip. Ah, now I am fully awake.
So, Annie wants me to gossip? I scrunch up my nose. “I saw Dan’s naked chest on my way to the shower.”
She leans forward. “How was it?”
“Not good.” I demonstrate the way he went in instead of out. “If I ever get a boyfriend, I’m hoping for a lot better.”
“I still cannot believe that someone as pretty as you has never had a boyfriend,” she mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
I didn’t even know I was pretty until Annie told me so. Maybe because I’ve spent my life next to my mother, a great beauty with fair skin, raven hair, and patrician features. My father has only done one impulsive thing in his entire life. The first time he saw my mother, sitting in a cafe, sipping tea and reading a book, he marched over and asked her out. Six months later, to the disapproval of almost everyone in her family, she dropped out of Monarch College, married him, and moved to Paris. After Paris, Washington, where I was born. Then Helsinki. And locations all over eastern Europe, where it was just the three of us.
Next to my mom, whose beauty inspired my straitlaced father to spontaneity, I’m chopped liver. And I’m skeptical of Annie’s claims. Guys don’t pay attention to me. Even stupid Dan never remembers my name, and we’ve been introduced several times.
“You’ve had much more experience with boys than me,” I say.
“Unbelievable. I thought I would be the least experienced dater at Monarch. Maybe that’s why they paired us up.” She snorts, and egg flies across the table and lands on the floor. We both laugh.
She sips her coffee. “Look, I’m sorry I blew up at you before. I should get my temper under control. Can I blame the lack of caffeine?”
“Oh no, it’s okay. I’d rather you were honest with me.” It’s a struggle to manage peer friendships since it’s all new to me. “Besides, I’m the same. When I get upset, I tell people off.”
Her eyebrows go up. “I can’t even imagine you getting mad.”
“I have a pretty long fuse,” I admit.
She finishes her bagel, then pats her mouth with a napkin. “You know that today is bid day, right?”
Just like that, my lovely morning shatters like an icicle dropping from a cathedral roof.
“Oh right.” How could I forget? We’ve only spent the past week visiting and re-visiting sororities. “What time does that happen?”
“All the sororities send out their acceptances at 5:00 PM.”
Ah yes, the benefits of technology—no room for error. In my mother's time, perhaps an envelope with good news could be misplaced but no more.
“Do they let you know if you haven't made it?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“I hope not. That would be brutal.” Annie frowns. “Don't worry. Everyone gets in somewhere.”
For achieving my goal of a wide circle of friends, I want to get into the Alpha Zeta Mu sorority. It’s really my mother who inspired me to strive for Greek supremacy. She went to Monarch College as well, and would speak admiringly of the women of that sorority, who were the most accomplished and popular on campus. After years of hearing the wistful undertones of her college stories, I’m certain that my admission into Alpha Zeta Mu will make her happy.
“I don’t want to join just any sorority though.” I circle my spoon through the oatmeal dregs, appetite gone.
“Evelyn, you know that Alpha Z is the most difficult sorority to join. And I’m not sure if it’s a good fit…” Annie’s voice trails off.
She’s right, of course. The sorority sisters there were uniformly glossy, confident, and fashionable in a way that’s completely beyond my skills or knowledge. As in my mother’s time, they’re accomplished and active in student organizations and charity work. They’re also still famously popular and date the most desirable guys on campus—like the Delta Theta Pi fraternity brothers or members of the Mustangs hockey team.
Definitely not the best fit for someone with a meagre social résumé. But I like to set my goals high. I’m smart and hard-working. I’d be happy to partake in all that charity work or sorority business. Maybe they’ll see my potential.
Annie finishes her bagel and brushes the crumbs from her hands. “I’m hoping for Sigma Phi.”
I nod. I too liked that sorority, the women had been quietly friendly and admired the outfits that I’ve thrifted and remade. The sorority house had a handmade vibe that appealed to my crafty side, and they had adopted an adorable cat-and-dog bonded pair from a local animal charity.
“It seemed so homey there,” Annie concluded.
“True. But we’ve come to college to take risks and challenge ourselves, right?” That’s my philosophy, honed over the years that I lived a sheltered life in foreign countries. Once I moved to Minnesota for college, I would seize those opportunities with both hands. No more safe, quiet life for me. Of course, my cautious personality isn’t exactly suited to this philosophy, but I can change.
My mom video-calls as I’m getting ready for class.
“Am I calling at a bad time?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. My mom on video always sounds like she’s trying not to wake up an ogre lying beside her. Just in case someone is listening.
“No, it’s fine. I only have a couple of minutes, though. I’m getting ready for class.” I smile at her as I’m brushing my hair.
“It’s so nice to see your face.” It’s nice to see her face too. I’ve always wished my features were as delicately pretty as hers, instead of having my dad’s strong bone structure.
We catch up on each other’s news—not that much since we spoke three days ago, but then I have to get to class.
“I don’t want to hold you up, darling,” she says softly.
For a moment, I catch a glistening in her eyes even through the tiny screen. Is she crying?
“Is everything okay, Mom?” I peer at her, but she’s smiling now.
“Of course. Good luck on your sorority bids.”
I tense. Part of me wishes that she had forgotten about that, but my mother is extremely sharp.
“Thanks. Love you,” I say before we disconnect.
My classes go by quickly. My mood zigzags; first I’m engrossed in my lectures, and then worried about the bids. But superstitiously, I refuse to check my email. If it’s bad news, I don’t want to be distracted from my coursework. I delay until I’m back in my room.
Annie is waiting there. She tries to hide her excitement, but I can tell.
“You got into Sigma Phi?” I ask.
She grabs me, and we jump up and down. “Oh my god, I’m so happy. Did you check your emails yet?”
I shake my head, then sit down at my desk and open up my laptop. I scan my emails. There’s one from Sigma Phi…and nothing else. I click on the email.
“I got into Sigma Phi too,” I say.
Annie hugs me from behind. “Oh, that’s so awesome. Now we can be friends forever!”
While I’m elated to hear her say that, I’m also upset about not making the sorority of my choice.
I try to smile properly, but I’m not fooling Annie. “Wait. Are you disappointed about Alpha Zeta Mu?”
“A little,” I admit.
“Evelyn. Reality check. Did you really feel comfortable there?” she demands.
I consider this. I could imagine myself among the sorority sisters, but in my fantasies, I was a super version of myself: better groomed and more self-assured.
“I know it was a dream, but it seemed possible,” I say haltingly.
She sighs. “I felt out of place there. Like my clothes weren’t the right brands or expensive enough. Everyone there had been in the top cliques in their high schools. I was definitely not one of the cool girls back home.”
“I was,” I joke. Being home-schooled meant that I was both the coolest and nerdiest girl in the school. The jock, the artiste, the prom queen, and all the other high school caricatures rolled up in one.
Annie scoffs. “You don’t know what it feels like to have the mean girls look down on you. Or to ridicule you with their subtle insults. ‘Where did you get those unique shoes, Annie?’”
“Did you think they were putting us down when we visited Alpha Zeta Mu?” As an only child, I tend to be trusting and oblivious.
Annie makes a face. “No, they weren’t mean, but they were so uniformly polite that it felt fake. Like they’d already made up their minds within five seconds of meeting us so they didn’t have to get to know anyone further. And they didn’t have to sell us because they know they’re the most desirable sorority.”
I’d interpreted their politeness as niceness, and the fact that they treated everyone the same as meaning we all had an equal chance.
“Are you really upset?” she asks.
I shake my head. I don’t want to admit how much this hurts. College is just starting, and it already feels like I’m failing.
“Do you want to go down for dinner now?” she asks.
“Um, you know what? I think I’m going to skip dinner and go to the library,” I say.
Annie eyes me suspiciously. “Really? Do you want me to bring something back for you?”
“It’s okay. I have protein bars in my purse.” I avoid her gaze. Annie’s smart enough to know that I’m lying about my pain, but she also understands that I don’t want to talk yet. Before I leave, she gives me a fierce hug, which is cheering.
The Schultz Reference Library is already my sanctuary. I am ecstatic to be in a library filled with books in English on my favourite subjects. I climb the dimly lit wooden stairs to the top floor and go straight to the history section where I peruse the Eastern Europe shelves. I’m going to major in history and political science at Monarch, so I’ll be spending a lot of time here.
I pull out volume after volume until I can’t carry any more books, then take them over to one of the large oak tables. This place is always blessedly empty. I pull on my headphones and dial up some Bill Evans. Courtesy of my father, I’m a classic jazz aficionado.
I’ve been reading a feminist history of Russia, and I want to cross-reference the incidents mentioned in the book. I settle in to research Alexandra Kollontai—the first female commissar in Lenin’s government and a force in the Social Democratic Party. As usual, it’s shocking how much the versions of history vary, so I’ll have to decide my own truth.
While most women my age would binge-watch reality shows or eat junk food, I self-soothe by reading history. No wonder I can’t get into Alpha Zeta Mu. I am the nerdiest girl at Monarch.
But it works. In no time, I’m transported to Bolshevik Russia where sororities don’t even exist.
“Excuse me,” a deep male voice says.
A warm hand lands on my shoulder, wrenching me out of the past. Instinctively my elbow jerks back and comes into contact with something solid.
“Ohhh, fuuuck.”
There’s a thud. A large man is lying on the carpet beside me, clutching his genitals in the fetal position.
“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.” I kneel beside him, but as I grab the table for balance, I dislodge a large book on revolutionary Russia that lands on his ankle. He yelps in pain. Well, specifically in more pain.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry, again. Can I help you in any way?” I pat his shoulder ineffectually, and notice how broad and muscled it is. In fact, he’s muscled everywhere. Even his neck looks strong as I watch his prominent Adam’s apple undulate.
It takes a couple of minutes before he actually sits up. I’ve been apologizing the whole time, but he has only groaned in response. I understand that the groin is one of the most vulnerable places on a man, but I’ve never seen it so graphically illustrated.
Now that his face isn’t wrinkled in pain, he’s quite attractive with a squared jaw, high cheekbones, and round boyish eyes. His brown hair falls in perfect layers even after rolling on the floor. Not my type, though. I didn’t come all the way to Minnesota to date a guy with Slavic good looks.
“I’m so, so sorry. You surprised me, and I reacted out of shock. I certainly didn’t mean to hurt you,” I reassure him.
He heaves a deep breath and finally speaks, his voice hoarse and low. “Yeah. I got that message the first ten times you told me.”
“Well, there’s no need to be rude. It was an accident,” I reply.
“What about dropping the book on me?” He rubs his ankle. “Was that a mistake too?”
Is he being deliberately obtuse? Maybe the myth is true about good-looking guys being dumb.
“Of course. Why on earth would I want to hurt you?”
“I have no idea. But you’re doing a great job. You could give tips to the Hoover defencemen. They’ve been trying to take me out for years.” The corner of his mouth tips up in a half-smile. Wait, is he bragging that he’s on the Mustangs hockey team? And expecting me to react with a girlish swoon? His egotistical assumption only makes me angry.
“Being on the hockey team doesn’t give you carte blanche to disturb people who are studying,” I reply tartly. If only Annie could see my assertiveness now. “You should have never laid a hand on me in the first place.”
One eyebrow goes up, but his slight smile remains. “But you didn’t respond when I spoke to you the first three times.”
“I was reading. As one does in the library,” I point out.
“And you were also hogging a lot of the books I was looking for.” He finally stands. My neck goes back as I watch him unfurl to his full height. I’m not intimidated though, I’ve brought him down once and I can do it again.
“Fine. Feel free to use any of the books you need, except this one.” I put my hand on the volume I was reading. “You can even share this table, if you want.”
He makes a mock bow. “Thank you, your majesty.”
Oh, the arrogance. I’m done apologizing. I pull my headphones back on, turn up “Autumn Leaves,” and return to reading. When I look up half an hour later, he’s gone.