What I Wore to Save the World by Maryrose Wood

yeah.”
    â€œWe overreacted,” she said simply. “But you didn’t. After your father put her down Tammy told us the whole story: that you were right outside the bathroom door the whole time she was taking a bath? And you came in and pulled her out of the tub the minute you heard something suspicious?”
    â€œYeah, the bathroom is probably a mess, sorry about that—”
    My mom threw her arms around me and squeezed so hard I lost my breath. “Morgan! Do you realize that you saved your sister’s life?”
    â€œMom—ouch—I think you still might be overreacting.” I wriggled free, gently, because I could tell she was on the brink of getting weepy, and I didn’t have time to deal with that. “Maybe you’re having one of those hormonal surges that afflict women your age and cause temporary fits of insanity.”
    â€œMost serious childhood accidents occur in the home,” she said, wiping her eyes. “But not this time, thanks to you. And now this!” She tapped the envelope with her finger. “Oxford University is pursuing you ! Morgan, I don’t know what to say. I feel like there must be a whole side of you that we’ve missed, somehow.”
    Oh my God, you have no idea, I thought. “Does that mean I can go to England, then?”
    â€œSweetheart, you have to go! I know it’s short notice, but it’s not like it’s the first time you’ve traveled to Europe alone.” She looked at the pile of clothes on my bed like she wished she were the one with the plane ticket. “Do you need any help packing?”
    â€œI’m fine.” I really wanted her to leave so I could print out Colin’s travel directions. “I can manage. Thanks.”
    She started to leave, but stopped in the doorway.
    â€œThis is going to be a real adventure for you, Morgan.” She put her hand over her heart, drama-queen style. “I just have a feeling. This trip is going to be a truly unforgettable experience.”

six
    i waited until i heard my mom’s footsteps going down the stairs, counted to ten, and then turned back to the computer. My reply to Colin was short and sweet. “I’ll be there Friday morning,” I wrote. “Whatever it is, you’re not crazy. Love, Morgan.”
    I stared at the screen for a moment before pressing SEND. Of course I was dying to know what was going on—for one thing, what the fek was he doing on vacation with his grandfather? He was supposed to be working the bike tour this summer—but there’d be plenty of time to ask questions in person. Right now, the less I knew, the less I’d have to lie to my parents about. I just needed to get my half-goddess butt to Wales without anybody realizing that I was taking a detour. Call it the really, really scenic route to Oxford.
    Feeling totally spylike, I printed out Colin’s e-mail and travel instructions, then deleted the file. I changed my password too, just in case some nosy kid named Tammy felt like playing with my computer while I was gone.
    And I wrote an e-mail to Sarah saying I’d be out of town for a while to look at college campuses. “Cheerio!” is how I signed off at the end, instead of goodbye. I was pretty sure she’d figure it out. I made it a “send later” e-mail and timed it to get to her when I would be high in the sky, halfway over the Atlantic. Detailed explanations would have to wait until I got back to Connecticut.
    Of course, I had no idea when that would be.
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    the next morning, with some small part of me still suspecting I might have dreamed the whole thing, I found myself standing in the lobby of the local Marriott, waiting to board the airport van to JFK.
    The Oxford brochure poked strategically from the outside pocket of my wheeled suitcase, where everyone could admire it. My secret itinerary from Colin was folded up and hidden inside the private