Alias a Secret Life An Alias Prequel

1 "Why do we have to live in the dorms?" Sydney Bristow complained, lifting her eyes from her Dostoyevsky novel to cast an annoyed glance toward her half-open window. Shouts and laughter tumbled in from outside, riding the warm California breeze. "Freshmen make so much noise." "In case you've forgotten, we're freshmen," Francie Calfo said, twisting around in her chair to gesture with a wet red nail polish brush. She had long since abandoned her studies and was using her desk as a manicure station. "Not only that, but it's Saturday and it's beautiful outside. Any sane person would be out there making noise." Francie's dark brown eyes turned wistful. "Remind me again: Why aren't we out there?" "Because of me," Sydney said with a sigh. Tossing her book aside on her thin, dorm-issue mattress, she got up to look out the window. On the freshly mown grass below, students of all ages and descriptions were enjoying the sunny spring day, sitting and talking in groups or playing impromptu games of touch football and catch. Frisbees crisscrossed the scene, and a giggling gang of sorority girls ran back and forth trying to fly a long, colorful kite. Shorts and tank tops were the uniform of the day, and even from her fifth-floor window, Sydney could smell the suntan lotion. "You should go do something," she said, turning abruptly to Francie. "There's no reason for you to be a prisoner here just because I have to study. With all the hours I've been working, I have to catch up on my classes, but you . . ." "What kind of friend would I be if I were out having fun while you were here plowing through . . . what are you reading, anyway?" Francie got up and reached for the book Sydney had dropped, lifting its cover by two wet-tipped fingers. "Is this . . . What is this?" Sydney froze. Why had she left that book in plain sight? "Dostoyevsky," she said quickly. "For my Survey of World Literature class. Everyone has to read it." She hurried to take the book back, but Francie yanked it out of her reach, arching a disbelieving brow. "In Russian? This is Russian?" "Well . . . yeah, but--" "I don't want to shock you, Syd, but most lit teachers are fine with students who read the English translation. When did you learn Russian, anyway?" "I . . . I didn't," Sydney lied. "I mean, I thought I could teach myself. But right now it's giving me the biggest headache. . . ." At least that part was true. Francie dropped the book onto Sydney's bed. "I hope you know you're crazy. Between your classes and working at the bank, you don't have enough to do already?" Sydney smiled weakly, at a loss for an answer. The worst part is the lying, she thought. They don't tell you that when you join the CIA. You think the worst part will be the fear, or getting caught, or maybe even dying. But the lying . . . the lying is every day. "You're my best friend here, Francie," she blurted out. "You always will be, right?" Francie laughed, caught off guard. "I haven't put up with you since last summer just to have you replace me now." "Never. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," Sydney said sincerely. "Except for go outside on a perfectly gorgeous day." Francie pointed hopefully toward the window. "Forget about studying, Syd! Why do we live in L.A. if we never go to the beach?" "I thought you didn't like your bathing suit." "That was before I bought a new bathing suit. And there's a party tonight at Delt house. I heard some girls talking in the hall." "A frat party?" Sydney had been to one of those parties early in the year. She had drunk too much and had promRoberts, Laura Peyton is the author of 'Alias a Secret Life An Alias Prequel' with ISBN 9780553493993 and ISBN 055349399X.