What I Wore to Save the World Read Online Free PDF

that kick-ass application essay was going to be a tad more complicated than I’d let on to Mr. Phineas. On the other hand, I could still be an X-ray technician.
    But that wasn’t going to get me on the same side of the Atlantic as Colin, would it?
    No, it would not. I wasn’t ready to give up on Oxford, not without at least giving it a try. But I did need advice. Getting into college was a competition, and I had to learn to think like a winner.
    What I needed was a coach.
    Whoosh.
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    â€œcan you even get a job doing that?” sarah panted, as she passed the ball at light speed between her legs, under and around until her hands were a blur. “The mythology thing, I mean?”
    Getting on Sarah’s calendar for a BFF coaching session meant that I had to meet her at the basketball courts at eight in the morning. Normal people slid into summer vacation mode the minute school let out. Sarah slid into summer training mode. After warming up for an hour at the YMCA, she’d be spending the rest of the day in a training camp for “hot prospects” at UConn.
    That was one difference between Sarah and me. Not only did she know what she wanted, she was willing to work her ass off to get it.
    â€œI guess so.” I hadn’t thought about a job, to be honest. “Teaching or something.”
    â€œOh my God!” She snorted with laughter. “Sorry. I’m imagining you teaching college.”
    First my parents, now Sarah. Among the people who knew me best there seemed to be a consensus that whatever I tried to do with my life, I would suck at it.
    â€œMythology interests me.” I tried to sound firm. “I want to study something interesting. I’ll figure out the job thing later.”
    Sarah put down the ball, loped to the side of the court and grabbed a big, pee-yellow Gatorade out of her duffel bag. Watching her guzzle it so early in the morning made me feel like I might as well skip breakfast.
    â€œMorgan, if that’s what you want to do, fine. It’s just like, so out of the blue.” She wiped her mouth on the hem of her shirt and picked up the ball again. “Some weird guy in knickers—”
    â€œBreeches,” I corrected.
    â€œWhatever, tells you to study ‘mythology at Oxford’ and suddenly you’re all over it, like it’s your life’s dream or something. I mean, I’ve never even heard you mention it.”
    â€œI know. But trust me, it’s not just because this guy said so. The subject has been on my mind for a while. Ever since I went to Ireland, really.” It felt good to share a tiny piece of the truth, even though I had to leave most of it out. “Anyway, I know my grades are bad and all, but this counselor says he knows people at Oxford. It sounds like he can pull some strings.”
    â€œEver since you went to Ireland, huh?” Sarah spun the ball idly on the tip of her index finger. “And Oxford is in England.”
    It was obvious where she was going with that geographic news flash, but “stubborn as a mule” was both my best and worst quality. I glared at her with an I-dare-you-to-say-it expression that would melt an ordinary person into slush.
    â€œYeah, so?” I challenged, in the world’s least witty come-back.
    Sarah tucked the ball under her long arm. “In my personal opinion, this mythology-at-Oxford obsession is just a ruse to get you to England so you can be closer to Colin.”
    â€œEngland is not Ireland, ding-dong,” I countered.
    â€œEngland is way closer to Ireland than Connecticut, doodlehead.”
    â€œClose is irrelevant. It’s still a different country.” Our voices echoed strangely in the empty gymnasium. “Why are you always so snarky about Colin?”
    â€œColin, Colin, Colin.” She dribbled the ball to emphasize each word. “You know what? The whole two weeks he was in Connecticut, I never even met him.