Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
“Me?” he questions, glancing at me and then at the bustling people behind me and back again. “What about you? What are you doing on campus this morning?” He’s right to be suspicious, though I don’t appreciate the distrust to my vision. If Blake should know anything at all about me by now, it’s that I always have a plan and a reason. Always.
“I have a meeting with my peer counselor in a little bit to go over my schedule for the fall. I’m planning to make some changes to my original plan, so I wanted to get ahead of the game.”
“Changes? You switching majors or something?”
I laugh. Majors. This fucking kid with his “societal norms” and shit. “Oh. No. I’m putting myself in a position to be in every single one of Julia’s classes, that’s all.”
His face is a mask of both judgment and appreciation, and I revel in both. I don’t hide from my ways—I embrace them. The only thing I haven’t quite mastered yet is how to confront Julia, but that has more to do with positioning myself away from failure than embarrassment.
“Ah. I see we’re still coming to terms with the Julia thing.”
“Oh no. I’ve come to terms. The thing is, she doesn’t even know the terms exist, and all these fuckers all over this campus sure as shit don’t either. No way in hell I’m letting some preppy kid with bad breath scoop her out from under me before I have the chance to convince her to love me back.”
Blake nods and chuckles. “Well, as long as you’re handling it reasonably.”
“Reasonable is my middle name, bro.”
“Of course.”
“What are you doing? Grabbing breakfast?” I ask. He’s been keeping to himself this summer, despite our constant pestering. I know he’s been busy with football, but I also have to make sure he’s not just bullshitting me. Nobody avoids Ace Kelly and gets away with it.
“Yeah,” he agrees easily, nodding toward the buffet line behind me. “Grabbing something quick so I can chill a little before practice.”
I jerk up my chin and hold out a hand for him to shake. It’s nice catching up, but I’ve got an appointment to get to upstairs posthaste. “All right. Well, hit me up later. I think we’re all going to get together and do something. Feels like we’ve barely gotten to see you this summer, you’ve been so busy acting like you’re a fucking football savant or some shit.”
Blake laughs. “I’ll see what I get into later and let you know.”
“Fine. But you have to at least come to Fourth of July with us,” I insist, pointing a finger in his chest. “We’re all going to Finn’s uncle’s lake house. It’s a big Winslow family tradition that now includes the Hayeses, my crazy-ass parents, and Julia’s mom and dad. Despite the parental units being there, I swear it’ll be a good time.”
“I’ll see if I can make it, but it sounds as if it has potential,” Blake replies with a sexy hotshot wink. He plays the humble part well, but underneath it all, he’s a cocky little shit like the rest of us, I know it.
“Potential?” I scoff. “It’s going to be a good fucking time, Golden Boy. My dad and Gunnar went out and bought a shit-ton of fireworks. Your ass needs to be there, bro… Anyway, I gotta run. I’ll catch you later.” I slap him on the back and run toward the stairwell by the door. A quick glance at my watch reveals I’m two minutes late, which isn’t exactly the best start when you’re trying to talk people into shit they aren’t technically allowed to do.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and worried it might be Julia, I open the screen to read the message and climb the stairs all at once.
It’s not Jules, though; it’s Finn. And while I do read what he has to say, I put off responding until I’m out of this fucking meeting. He should know by now that friendship with me is meant to be a roller coaster of highs and lows of fun.
Finn: I really will kill you if you don’t stop signing me up for subscriptions I don’t want. Fucking jam? What about me makes it look like I’m a jam guy, Ace?
Tucking my phone into my pocket, I scoot up to the receptionist inside the poor counseling office and engage my smile. “Hi, there. Ace Kelly here to meet with Mrs. Patreetus. So sorry I’m a couple minutes late. I ran into my good friend Blake Boden downstairs and didn’t want to be rude by not saying hello.”
I name-drop Blake like a celebrity in Hollywood, and I do it without an ounce of shame. Around Dickson’s campus, he is an enigma.
The receptionist meets my eyes, her smile growing when I throw her a wink, and then scoots her chair back to guide me down the hall. “Right this way. I’ll show you to her office.”