Page 11 of Switched

I look in horror at the rabbit-shaped alarm clock holding a pocket watch, and I have two thoughts.

When did we get a talking alarm clock?

How does it know I’m late? Gasp! I’m late for my first class with Prince Sebastian!

I jump out of bed in a frenzy. I throw my wrinkled jumper on over my nightdress before slipping into my boots without my striped stockings. There’s no time to tame my hair. I grab my half-empty quill and scroll before dashing out of my dorm room. So much for looking presentable.

“No running in the hallways, Gilly!” Miri shouts as I fly down the stairs and through hallways, trying to find the new library services wing. “Detention, Gilly! Did you hear me? That’s two detentions! Gilly? Gilly!”

But I ignore Miri and keep running, barely missing a gaggle of pixies chatting in the hall.

“Blackbeard’s class is on the first floor!” I say as I dive through an opening hallway and fly into the library services wing. I keep running past the stained glass windows and don’t stop till I find the door that says PRINCE SEBASTIAN’S CLASSROOM. I pound on the door.

I fail to see the fine print till afterward. IF THE DOOR IS SHUT, CLASS IS ALREADY IN SESSION AND YOU ARE LATE! DON’T BOTHER!

Fiddlesticks.

The door to my new classroom flies open.

“You’re late!” Prince Sebastian growls. His long hair is tied back with a red ribbon, and he’s wearing a red jacket with gold buttons. He looks at my disheveled appearance with disdain.

“Sorry, I know,” I say fast. “My alarm clock didn’t go off and I was busy helping a friend last night and I overslept and didn’t have time to iron and it won’t happen again.”

The prince is breathing heavily as he stares at me. I wait for him to beast out, but he just turns and walks away. “This is your first and only warning about being late to my class. Next time, you won’t be allowed entrance.”

“Prince Sebastian?” Miri glows in a nearby mirror, and I cringe. “Headmistress Flora would like a word.”

“Of course,” says the prince. “Gillian, sit! And the rest of you, keep quiet until I return.”

“Thank you, Professor,” I say as he leaves the room. “I’ll just sit down…oh!”

This is strange. There are no desks in the classroom. I spot my friends all seated at individual dressing tables that have their own gold mirrors, chandeliers, and gold rugs beneath their feet. Classical music is playing from a harp in the corner and… What’s that smell? Lavender incense? I slide behind an open vanity across from someone I didn’t expect to see—Allison Grace. While everyone else talks quietly with the person nearest them, Beauty and the Beast’s daughter is wringing her hands, tapping her toes, and looking everywhere but at me. Being the new kid can be rough.

“Hey, Allison Grace,” I say, tripping over her formal name. “Do you go by both names all the time? Or just Allison? Or maybe Grace?” She looks at me strangely. “It takes so long to say both names, you know?”

“My parents love my name, but…” She sighs and puts her hands firmly on the desk. “It sounds so formal, like I’m being announced at a ball. All. The. Time.”

I laugh. “How about a nickname for school?”

She looks thoughtful. “I’ve never had a nickname before.”

“The easier it is to say your name, the more likely it is that kids will call it out,” I tell her.

Her face lights up. “What would my nickname be?”

I think for a moment. “Ali? Ali Grace? Gracey?” She wrinkles her nose at each suggestion. “How about AG?”

“AG?” Allison Grace repeats, and her smile widens. “I love it! Now how do I get people to use it?”

“Easy!” I whistle, and everyone turns around. “You guys remember meeting Allison Grace in the library?” People nod. “Well, from here on out, she’d love for you to call her AG.”

A chorus of “Hey, AG!” rings out around the room, and my new friend looks tickled pink. I wink at her as someone slides into the seat behind her. It’s Jack Spriggins.

“How’d you get in this class?” Jocelyn asks pointedly. “Weren’t you just sentenced?”

Jack shrugs. “Don’t know. The headmistress said my story reminded her of hers.” He points to me.

“Gilly?” Jax sputters. “You’re nothing like her.”