A hilarious follow-up to the perennial favorite  Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie . Scott Hudson has somehow managed to survive Freshman year. But with a new baby brother in the house and a whole host of adventures awaiting him at school, Sophomore year promises to be anything but boring. An honest and funny follow-up to the popular  Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie , award-winning author David Lubar pens a tale that perfectly captures the ridiculous, tumultuous, and sometimes heartbreaking truths about high school. Gr 7 Up—Scott's freshman year is over. The mistakes he made in Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie (Dutton, 2005) are over and remedied. Now that he is a sophomore, he is confident—and less endearing than he was in the previous volume. The narrative plays out as Scott goes from one class to another throughout the school year. Scott's crush on the Sphinx-like Lee and his worries about his dad's business are underdeveloped adjuncts to the larger, less appealing story of the teen's mean-spirited commitment to one-upping his English teacher. When the teacher instructs Scott to write a 2,000 word essay on arrogance, he writes in favor of it. The rapport between student and teacher continues to deteriorate and Scott turns in a clever but cruel essay ridiculing the educator. Still, there are many moments of humor. Word-lovers will appreciate Zenger Zingers and Scott's advisory comments to his baby brother, Sean. In the end, Scott acknowledges his wrongdoings, but given the intensity of his pride, his remorse lacks conviction. VERDICT Purchase where there are fans of the first book.—Jennifer Prince, Buncombe County Public Libraries, NC "Ten years is a long time to wait for a sequel, but Lubar makes it worth our while ."   —Booklist " Laugh-out-loud . . . Lubar uses his comedic voice to give the story a larger-than-life feel."  — VOYA "Scott's ups and down [are] cleverly documented with both humor and touching prose as only Lubar can do."  —The Examiner Praise for  Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie : "Hilarious . . . [Scott]'s physical and emotional tumult is as clear, familiar, and complex as high school itself." — School Library Journal "Amusing, accurate observations about freshman life, from the insecurities of first dates to the dangers of walking the hall between classes." — Booklist "[A] fresh, genuinely funny picture of an earnest yet hapless teen . . ." —BCCB David Lubar is the author of many popular novels for young readers, including  Hidden Talents and  Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie . He has also published multiple short stories in young adult anthologies. He lives in Pennsylvania. ONE This year is going to totally rock,” I told Lee. We were sitting on the top step of her front porch, badly bloated and overfed from the heaping platters of an outrageous Labor Day cookout hosted by her parents, attended by mine, and peppered with a rotating assortment of both families’ coworkers, friends, and neighbors. My folks loved Lee. Her folks appeared to tolerate me, though I had a feeling it would be a good idea not to turn my back on her father if we ever went hiking near the edge of a cliff. Dads are excessively protective of their daughters. I think my parents were pretty smart to have nothing but boys, even if they were less than smart about the spacing. “I admire your enthusiasm,” Lee said. “It’s cute.” “You’re thinking of the wrong Hudson.” I pointed to the curb, where my parents were loading my somewhat amusing but essentially useless and frequently damp baby sibling into the backseat of the car. “Sean is cute.” “Agreed,” Lee said. “But there’s no quota on cute. And there’s a strong biological argument for shared traits among siblings. Sean’s cute. Bobby’s cute. You’re cute. It’s a Hudson thing. Suck it up and deal with it. What’s wrong with being adorable?” “That’s for puppies and toddlers,” I said. “We’re sophomores now.” “Don’t stay out too late, Scott,” Mom called after she’d clicked the seventeen buckles and tightened the half-dozen harnesses that locked Sean’s Kevlar-reinforced car seat securely in place. “You have school tomorrow. It’s a big day. You want to be ready for it.” “I know, Mom. Thanks. Bye.” I waved and watched my parents drive off. I wasn’t concerned about tomorrow. I’d spent my freshman year mastering the art of functioning without sleep. I’d survived a series of stupid decisions, and scattered brushes with death and destruction. What a difference a year makes. Last year, I’d been clueless. This year, I had a clue. The door opened behind us. “Big day, tomorrow,” Lee’s dad said. Lee and I exchanged amused glances, but she didn’t protest. “See you in school,” she said, giving my hand a pat. She closed the book she’d been reading, but kept her place with her finger. Of Mice and Men. That was our summer-reading book. She was near the end. I’d already read it, on my own, years before it had been assigned. Twice, actually. “What are you wearing tomorrow?” I asked as I got up from th