Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Little impression that makes on the girl. She just grunts in acknowledgment, her eyes never leaving the page.
So I turn to leave again. Hopefully, it hadn’t been the registrar calling. I’d been negotiating with them about tuition payments because I’m a little short on money this year. With my job at the on-campus coffee shop and a bunch of scholarships, I can almost cover the cost of school, but not quite. Hopefully, the registrar has come around and will let me make my payments a bit late this year. Once I get a summer job, I’ll have a lot more money coming in, and the financial strain will ease. Hopefully. Fingers crossed.
“I remember now,” Cara announces suddenly, her head jerking up. “It was the registrar.”
I groan internally. “Did they say anything specific?” I ask.
“No,” my roomie mutters disinterestedly, “just said for you to call back.”
Well, the issue at hand is so important, I can do them one better. Looking at the clock, I see it’s three. I can run to the registrar, chat with them, then hustle to the pool for a quick swim, and still make it to class at four. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but I need to get my tuition issue worked out as soon as possible.
So I almost run across campus to the administrative building, my hair flying and my curves bouncing. Panting, I land at the window and whip out my student ID.
“Hi, I got a call from you guys earlier. I’m Evie Jones. I’m here about a payment plan?” I announce breathlessly, my chest heaving. Damn it, this swimsuit is really tight, and I feel like I can’t breathe.
The woman behind the window takes my ID, squinting as she punches my student ID into the computer.
“Name?” she asks laconically.
“Evie, I mean Evelyn Jones,” I correct. You never know when the whole bureaucratic machine will come crashing down because of a nickname.
“Date of birth?” she continues disinterestedly.
“February 20, 1997,” I reply.
The woman just shakes her head, bored.
“I show you as all paid up,” she says. “No outstanding balance.”
I stand stock still. This can’t be right.
“No, just last week I came in because I needed to figure out a payment plan with the school,” I explain slowly. “I owe State something like thirty thousand for this year.”
But the woman is bored now, barely even looking up from her screen.
“Nope, shows here your balance is zero,” she repeats, her voice flat. “Did you get some scholarship money? Or have some financial aid come in? Or,” and here she cackles to herself, “you got a fairy godmother maybe?”
I shake my head, puzzled. None of those things had happened. I know there’s no more financial aid coming down the pike, and the scholarships I’ve been awarded have already been applied. So I press forward.
“Well, can you see when my tuition was paid and who paid it?” I ask. This has to be a mistake, and I’m sure it’s going to all come unraveled at some point. “Surely, you can tell that from the system.”
The woman stares at the computer again, flicking through a couple of keys. “Says here it was paid in full today,” she remarks, her eyes flicking to me. “Like I said, you got a fairy godmother?”
I flip through my mental rolodex. Nope. There is no one who could have done this. Certainly no one I know has a spare thirty thousand and can write a check just like that. So I shake my head, mystified.
“But does it say who paid it? Where it came from?” I ask futilely.
“Nope. The computer doesn’t have that information. Just says $31,500.52 was paid earlier today. The check has already cleared,” she adds helpfully.
And shaking my head again, I pick up my gym bag, dazed, and turn to go. Where had the money come from? It’s like a jackpot has fallen from the sky and landed on my head, showering me with clinking golden coins and easing my life of financial strain. This is so weird, an enormous load off my back. Maybe now I can take an unpaid internship this summer to bolster my resume instead of having to do double shifts at the coffee shop. So many opportunities have just opened up for me, and I’m mystified and elated at once, dazzled by my good fortune.
So with slow steps, I make my way to the pool. Honestly, my workout is the last thing on my mind now, and I’m wandering around a little lost, like someone who’s just found out they’ve won the Megamillions Lotto. Suddenly, a big shadow descends over me.
Slowly, I turn, still dazed and still on Cloud Nine. My eyes focus slowly. “Stone?” I murmur, confused. “What are you doing here? WTF, where have you been?”
The big man chuckles. “Girlie,” he rumbles, his eyes ravenous, devouring me in my skimpy cover-up. “I’ve been waiting for you.”