Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
His assumption isn’t just correct it’s spot-the-fuck-on. “Yeah, I figured as much…my stepbrother thinks stuff like this is funny. This is my first day here and I missed move-in day and orientation so I have no idea where anything is. Figures he would turn my first day of classes into a real-life nightmare.”
“Ah, brothers of all kinds can be a pain in the ass. I have two. I know all about it, and I’m the middle child so I have to deal with both at the same time.”
I’m only slightly surprised by his use of words, after all, he isn’t much older than me.
“Let’s turn your crap day into a better one. I’ll print you the right schedule right now and you can get back to your classes, hopefully on time.”
He types some stuff into the computer, his long fingers stroking over the keys. A second later, a soft knock sounds on the door, making us both look up. The door, which wasn’t closed all the way, swings open a few inches, revealing a woman my age.
“Oh, gosh. I’m sorry I didn’t know there was anyone in here,” she apologizes, her cheeks tinting pink as if she’s embarrassed or something.
“It’s fine, you can come in, Jules.” He waves his hand, motioning for her to walk in, a smile on his lips.
“This is…” He looks down at the paper in his hand. “Ava. She’s new, today is her first day. Maybe you could show her around campus? From the sound of things she’s not having a very good time.” A soft chuckle passes his lips and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has women throwing themselves at him. I swing my gaze back to the girl, Jules as he called her, feeling sorry that he put her on the spot like that. She doesn’t seem to be bothered by it though and graces me with a bright smile.
“Sure, I would love to,” she answers, the genuineness of her tone telling me she isn’t lying. “When is your next class?”
I blink. “In twenty minutes…but if you’re busy. I mean, I’d understand if you can’t do it. If you have something else that you needed to do—” I try to give her a way out, but she shakes her head the mass of blonde ringlet curls bounces with the movement.
“No way Jose. I have plenty of time, most of my classes are in the evening and only a few times a week. Plus anyone that’s a friend of Seb’s, is a friend of mine.”
Friend? I don’t know if we’re friends. It’s kinda his job to help me, though he certainly doesn’t have to be nice to me while he does it.
“Oh okay…” I smile, feeling a little better knowing that I won’t be burdening her. The last thing I want is to make her feel like she has to help me. I’m used to doing things on my own. I’ve done it this way for three years, and if she couldn’t help me, then I would have figured it out myself. I’m a big girl, as Vance would say.
“How about I take you to your next class and maybe later we can get some coffee and I can show you around the rest of the campus?”
“That would be great,” I sigh. It really, really would. I need this, so much, so much more than I want to admit.
“Perfect!” she exclaims, her eyes moving back to Mr. Miller. “I’ll call you later, Sebastian.”
“Tell Rem I said hi, and that he should show his face more than once a week,” Mr. Miller teases, and I get the feeling that these two know each other on a personal level.
“Will do. He’s been buried in homework lately,” Jules responds.
“Homework, you say?” He lifts a thick brow and grins before averting his eyes back to the computer. Jules’ cheeks heat, and she nibbles on her bottom lip. Oh, yes, these two definitely know each other, and whoever Rem is, he’s with Jules. It doesn’t take Sebastian long to get my schedule printed and send me out the door.
Jules walks me to class and for once, I feel like I might have made a good choice with coming to school here. She tells me about her boyfriend Remington, and how Mr. Miller is actually Sebastian, and Remington’s brother. She asks me a few questions about myself that I answer with a vague response. I don’t want anyone to know how fucked up my situation is. Everyone has problems, that doesn’t mean we need to broadcast them.
“Here, let me text you. Then later, when you finish up classes for the day, we can meet up. Oh, and if you have any questions, give me a call. I’ll help you however I can. I know all too well what it’s like to be the new girl.” She smiles and makes me feel like there is more to her story. I rattle off my number and she sends me a quick text, my phone signaling the incoming message from my pocket.