Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“I can’t.”
“How about we exchange numbers, and we can meet up later? Or another time?” he offers.
“Yo, Spence, we’re going to head to the quad. You coming?” another guy calls out.
I follow the voice and see a guy with brown hair sitting a few rows down from us. He’s looking between Spencer and me, wearing a smirk.
“That’s my roommate, Lincoln,” he explains. “What do you say?” Spencer asks, pulling my attention back to him.
“I don’t think so. It was nice meeting you.” Standing, I grab my backpack and wait patiently for him to move out of the row so that I can follow him.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” he says as a group of girls pass, waving hi, and calling out his name.
“Looks like you don’t need me,” I tell him, nodding to the small group that just passed, giggling and looking back at him over their shoulders.
“You jealous?”
“Nope. Just not interested.” I square my shoulders and peer up at him. I’m tall at five foot eight, but I still have to look up to him. My guess is he’s at least six foot two. “If you’ll excuse me.” I make myself as small as I can as I step around him and rush down the aisle and down the steps out of the auditorium.
Three months ago, I would have jumped at the chance to have coffee with him, and I might have even been the one to suggest that we exchange numbers, but I’m no longer that person. I no longer live the life of a carefree eighteen-year-old. I have to keep my eye on the prize, and the prize is my education and my scholarship. If I lose it, I lose college. I don’t want to take out loans and be in debt. I feel bad enough that we had to sell the house we grew up in to pay off the mortgage. I don’t have my parents to rely on for help. I have me and my sixteen-year-old little sister, who I will never and would never pass this burden onto.
I need to stay focused. I don’t have time for distractions or relationships. When I graduate, when I know that I have secured my future, there will be time for that.
Right now, there is just too much at stake.
PROLOGUE SPENCER
Spencer
Clemson University, Senior Year
Professor Elliott stands at the front of the lecture hall with his glasses perched on the end of his nose. This is my second economics class with him, and every single day I’ve wanted to just step up next to him and push the damn things up on his face.
“I have your midterms.” He raises a stack of papers in the air. “As you know, we have two students competing for the highest grade in this class.” His eyes flash from me to Charlotte, who’s sitting in the row in front of me. “I’m happy to say that we have a new leader.”
A slow smile tilts my lips. Everyone knows that Charlotte had the highest GPA in this class, and they also know that I am right behind her. That could only mean that I stole the top spot from miss perfect.
It’s a shame she’s so closed off and thinks she’s better than everyone else. She’s a fucking knockout. I can still remember the first day I laid eyes on her. Lincoln, my best friend and roommate, and I were headed to freshman orientation. We were both pumped. When I walked into the room and saw her, I knew I had to meet her. I needed to know her name and hear the sound of her voice. Her long, auburn hair stood out among every other woman in the room, and when I got closer, I saw her eyes. A bright blue I’d never seen before but a color I still manage to see in my dreams.
Yeah, I’ve got a thing for her. Not because I’m in love with her or anything. She’s sexy as fuck. Too bad she’s also got a stick up her ass and has become my rival.
She shot me down instantly. She didn’t flirt or act coy. She truly wasn’t interested. At least, that’s what I thought. We’ve had several classes together over the years, and she’s remained closed off, distant, and, well, stuck up. It’s not even her beauty that makes her that way. She’s not all “I’m sexy, and I know it.” No, Charlotte is just one of those people who thrives on being the best. She doesn’t flaunt it, but I know she gets off on beating me. That’s why I can’t resist moving seats so that I can lean over and flaunt my win.
“Whatcha got there, Charlie?” That’s something else. I called her Charlie at the beginning of our sophomore year, and she reprimanded me, reminding me her name was Charlotte. I’ve called her Charlie ever since.