Today I'm excited to be taking part in the book blitz for
Boy Swap by Kristina Springer, hosted by
Xpresso Tours. Discover more about the book, the author and read the first chapter of
Boy Swap below!
About the Book
Boy Swap by Kristina Springer
Published: 16th October 2013
Plot summary:
Boy Swap: The secret to sisterly love and scholarly bliss.
Research
shows that seven out of ten girl fights are over a guy. The Boy Swap
Club fixes all that. In an effort to spread around male cuteness and
minimize fights and backstabbing, they just share boyfriends. And Brooke
Thomas, consummate band member, has been asked to join the super secret
club because the president of the club has the hots for her guy.
Brooke
doesn’t want to share her boyfriend. I mean, who does? But how can she
say no? She, a second chair flutist in the school band, finds herself
sitting between the Varsity Cheerleader Captain and the Homecoming Queen
at the first meeting. Her friends will never believe this in a million
years. Too bad she can’t tell them. But she knows. This one event can
change her entire life. What if she becomes actual friends with one of
these girls? It might be worth sharing her boyfriend.
Besides, he’ll always love her best, right?
Excerpt
Chapter
1: Tap, tap
Raise your right
hand and repeat after me:
We,
the members of the Boy Swap Club, being of totally sound minds and rockin’
bodies, do here forth promise to be true to the following rules:
1) Never
hog your boyfriend all to yourself.
2) Never
get mad at a sister member for dating your guy.
3) Don’t
go all the way with any of the swapped guys.
4) And
never, ever, fall in love with any
guys involved in the swap.
I put down my
hand and smile at the group of girls I’ve just joined. I can’t believe that I’m
really here. I don’t totally understand what it is that I just agreed to but
who cares? I’m hanging out with the “it” girls. Cassie Deegan and Caitlyn Ray,
the two most popular girls in our entire school, run this club and I about died
when Cassie invited me to attend. She slipped me a note after Biology this
afternoon that said, “4 p.m., Bookends Bookstore, Travel section. Be there.” At
first I thought, oh great—I pissed somebody off and now she’s going to lure me
into an empty corner of the giant bookstore so she and her friends can kick my
butt, film it on their cells, and post it on YouTube. But curiosity got the
better of me, and I couldn’t believe it when I showed up and found ten of the
prettiest, most popular girls at my school sitting in a circle waiting for me.
Well,
except for, blech, Delaney Adams, the only girl who might actually want to kick
my butt. She stands a few feet behind the C2, scowling and appearing
generally unhappy that I’m here. Not that that’s new. Obviously she was the
“Nay” in the Yay or Nay vote on my invitation. But Cassie and Caitlyn must
really want me here so she can just go ahead and deal.
“Okay,” Cassie bellows to the
circle, interrupting my thoughts, “I need to make it clear that not just
anybody can join Boy Swap. This is a super secret elite club that you have to
be tapped into. So don’t like, go running off and telling your friends or
anything. Because we’ll deny it all. You were chosen to join our club because
you have a desirable boyfriend.” Cassie looks directly at me and gives me a
tight smirk.
Hmmm…Chris
is a hottie. With his adorable dimples and dive-right-in ocean blue eyes, I
think he’s irresistible. But they really picked me because my boyfriend is
cute? How weird.
“Look at the girl to your left and
the girl to your right,” Caitlyn instructs.
I
glance to my left at Sarah Reynolds with her long shiny blonde hair; she’s the
swim team captain and last year’s homecoming queen. On my right is Jackie
Adelson with glossy auburn waves; she’s a varsity cheerleader and the lead in
every single school play. I finger my own chin-length dark brown hair. Okay. So
if the three of us went head-to-head for a Pantene commercial I’d come in
third. But Chris loves my hair. He’s always running his hands through it when
we’re making out.
“They
may not be your friends outside in the real world,” Cassie continues, “but in
here, they’re your sisters.”
Wow.
Sisters! I’ve always wanted a sister. Or two. Or ten. I reach down into my
purse for my phone—I want to text Lizzie so bad and tell her all about it.
Oooh, but I can’t. Cassie just warned against that, right? Well, I know, and
that is what’s important. Currently, my school social status is kind of up for
grabs. I’m not exactly what you would call popular. Okay, who am I kidding? If
we had to walk the school with our status branded across our chests for all the
world to see like Hester Prynne in The
Scarlet Letter, mine would read “BN” for Band Nerd.
Yes,
I’m totally a band nerd. I am the second chair flutist in our school symphony
as well as in the marching band. Ack, I know, I know! The orange and black toy
soldier band uniforms are flattering on no one! Believe me, if I could convince
Mr. Shank, our band director, to let us out on the football field in cute
sundresses and wedge sandals, I would. But it is a sacrifice that I make to
play my music. I love the flute. When I play it, I feel all Tinkerbell twinkly.
If you play an instrument in the band then the flute is the only way to go.
Your sound stands out higher and prettier than all of the other instruments and
it feels more like they are accompanying you. But don’t mention to anyone that
I said that. I’ll have a bunch of pissed off clarinetists and saxophonists on
my back.
Anyway,
maybe I don’t have to forever be known as a band nerd? This could really change
everything for me. Maybe now I’ll make friends with some of these girls and
break into their cliques. And that would totally piss Delaney off as well,
which is a major bonus. She just hates that I’m sitting here smack dab in the
middle of her world. We’ve spent the last five years pretending each other
didn’t exist so I imagine this is completely killing her. Her eyes are rolling
so far back in her head I’m afraid they might detach and plop right out onto
the floor at any moment.
“If
there are no questions, I’d like you to sign the forms I’m passing out and…”
“I
have a question,” I say, shooting my hand in the air. All eyes fall on me. “Um,
I guess I don’t quite understand what I’m agreeing to. What is the Boy Swap
Club exactly?”
Cassie
sighs and rubs her temple with her right hand.
Whoops.
Did she already explain and I wasn’t paying attention?
“Research
shows that seven out of ten girl fights are over a guy,” Cassie says quickly.
“We’ve discovered the secret to harmony and happiness at school. In order to
maximize on male cuteness and minimize on fights and backstabbing, we just
share our boyfriends. ”
“And
the guys don’t care?” I ask.
“Like
we tell them.” Caitlyn laughs and the rest of the girls join her. Okay, so
apparently everyone here does know how things work already, and I’m asking too
many questions. But come on, it sounds a little strange. How do you share
boyfriends without their knowledge? And why do they want to share boyfriends
anyway? I don’t even like to share my fries. Although, loaning Chris out to get
to hang with these girls is intriguing. It would be hysterical if I actually
became popular from being in their club, so popular that Delaney would beg me
to be friends with her again and then I
could reject her snooty butt. Oooh, that would be amazing. And I’m sure they’d
return Chris to me in the same condition as I left him, right? Hmm. Oh, what am
I saying? This is ridiculous.
“So,
like I said before, if there are no other questions…” Cassie scans the circle
with an arched eyebrow—daring someone to say something. But no one makes a
peep. “I’ll need you each to sign one of these,” she adds. A stack of papers is
quickly passed around the circle of girls, and I start to read mine. It’s some
kind of boyfriend permission form. These girls are funny!
“Okay,”
Cassie interrupts my thoughts, “you are being passed an agreement that we’ll
need you to sign immediately. It is really simple. I, fill in your name,
voluntarily participate in the Interscholastic Boyfriend Exchange Program, here
forth referred to as ‘Boy Swap Club’ blah blah, of which my boyfriend, fill in
his name, unknowingly shall participate, blah blah blah, turn the page, enter
into this agreement under no force and of my free will, yadda yadda, for a
period of no less than three months, blah blah blah. If contract is broken,
penalties up to and including excommunication from entire student body…well,
you get the gist. If you want to join our club, sign now.”
Seriously,
can this girl slow down? I don’t want to give away a kidney or something. I
scan the first few lines. I don’t know. Should I do it? Part of me says drop
the paper on the chair and get the heck out of here. Part of me says don’t be a
bore, take a chance, and see what happens. What’s the harm? I raise my hand
again.
“Yes?”
Cassie says, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Can
I get a copy of this to read at home?” I hear a few sighs and see several girls
give each other looks. Yikes. They’re probably all wondering who let the loser
in. But I just want to gather more information. I mean, this isn’t exactly like
when I joined French club.
Stop
it Brooke! This is so not going to change your Band Nerd status. And besides,
these girls are, like, the smartest and prettiest at school. They are readily
signing it so it can’t be that bad, right? And it’s not like Chris would ever
cheat on me anyway so I’m totally getting the best of both worlds. “I mean,
never mind. Sounds fab,” I add quickly and scribble my name. “Here,” I pass my
form to Sarah and try to appear thrilled. Everyone shuffles their papers back
to Cassie.
My
stomach flips. Ugh. What did I just agree to? That was rash wasn’t it? I didn’t
even take time to really think it over. Let girls date my Chris? Why would I do
that? And why do they want Chris anyway? True, he’s hot. But he’s just as big a
band nerd as me. Although what’s wrong with band nerds anyway? We’re cool. In
our own way. Maybe the popular kids are finally ready to give us the
appreciation we deserve. Ah, who am I kidding? No, things are fine the way they
are. I don’t need to be in this silly club. Now if I can just get that piece of
paper back… “Um, excuse me, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d…”
“Okay,”
Caitlyn says, completely ignoring me. “There is one last piece of business
before we let you go today.” She props her Dooney & Burke bag up on her lap
and pulls from it a fistful of the rare, extremely sought after, pale pink
scarves.
A
collective “ooooooh” goes around the circle and every girl is staring at the
pile of scarves with wide eyes.
“You
will each be given one of these pink scarves,” Caitlyn says but I can hardly
hear her. My mind is racing. Ohmigod! The scarves! Lizzie and I have been
searching everywhere for these scarves. All the girls have. It’s like, the
popular girls started a fad and none of us could join in because we couldn’t
find the darn things anywhere. And now I am getting one? Lizzie is going to
DIE!
But
wait, grasp reality here, I don’t need
one. I’ve made it all this time without a scarf. Without being popular. I’m
fine. Closing eyes now. Nothing to see here. Well, maybe just a little peek.
“You
must always have the scarf on you in some way—neck, hair, wrist, whatever,”
Caitlyn says. “If it doesn’t match your outfit that day well, then have it on
your backpack or your purse in some fashion. This is our signal to each other
that we are all in the BSC. Never, and I mean NEVER, tell anyone where you got
the scarf. If you are ever asked, tell them it was a sale at Macy’s.” Everyone
is bobbing their heads up and down in excitement. My fingers are twitching at
the idea of possibly holding a scarf in just a few seconds. Cailtyn walks the
circle, dropping one scarf in each girl’s lap.
I’m
losing will power fast. Must. Touch. Scarf. Caitlyn’s getting closer to me.
What will people say if they see me at school wearing this scarf? Matching with
all of these super cool girls, together in solidarity. A sign that I belong
with them. That I, Brooke Thomas, second chair flutist, am someone important.
My right leg is bouncing up and down in anticipation. And then Caitlyn drops a
scarf on it.
Oh
my God. I drape it over my left wrist and hold it up toward the light. This is
the most beautiful scarf I’ve ever seen.
About the author
Kristina Springer is the best-selling author of the young adult novel THE ESPRESSOLOGIST (Macmillan FSG, October 2009) which sold film rights and is being filmed for a web series, has sold in six countries, and was a 2010 Society of School Librarians International Honor Book; the middle-grade novel MY FAKE BOYFRIEND IS BETTER THAN YOURS (Macmillan FSG, August 2010) which Meg Cabot says is “Irresistible as a fluffy kitten. I laughed out loud and so will you!" was a Scholastic Book Club Bestseller and a 2012 YALSA QUICK PICK and will be out in paperback this December; a young adult novel, JUST YOUR AVERAGE PRINCESS, which was a Fall favorite (Macmillan FSG, October 2011) and an ebook only young adult novel, THE PAPARAZZI PROJECT, which hit #1 on the Amazon Top Free Teen Romance eBooks list earlier this year.
Her fifth book, BOY SWAP, is out in ebook format October 16th. She has a Bachelor of Arts in English Education from Illinois State University and a Master of Arts in Writing from DePaul University.
Summer Demons
