Foul Play (Whithall University Book 1) (8 page)

BOOK: Foul Play (Whithall University Book 1)
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She gives me a soft look before turning her attention to Cole, giving him an approving look.

“Well then, I guess all that is left to say is: welcome to the family,’’ she grins and Mia squeals with joy which causes me to chuckle.

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

“Are you ready for this?’’ I ask Allie, fidgeting nervously. We’re standing in the courtyard of the main English building we’re meant to be in any minute now. Students litter around, sitting on walls, benches, or stairs, chatting or just sitting quietly with friends, some even drinking coffee.

It seems Allie and I weren’t the only ones who stopped off at the local Starbucks on the way over.

“Are you?’’ she questions back, her voice full of nerves.

Not wanting to scare her, I take her hand in a tight grip and squeeze. “Let’s do this.’’

We take another step towards the English building when two strong arms wrap around my waist from behind, swinging me around in circles.

Squealing, I beg whoever it is making me feel sick to put me down. I’ve already lost my coffee; I don’t want to lose this morning’s breakfast too. I’m pretty sure everyone is staring at me right now too which isn’t helping.

When I’m down I take a few steady breaths. Once the dizziness subsides, I turn around ready to rip the culprit a new arsehole.

“Alec,’’ I beam, walking up to my boyfriend and kissing him good morning.

“Mmmm, good morning to you to,’’ he grins. “You look fucking good,’’ he comments, making me blush.

Today I’ve tied up my mousy blonde hair in a high ponytail, leaving a few strands loose. I kept my makeup light but I did put on my signature pink lip gloss.

Clothes wise I’m wearing my favourite pair of black skinny jeans, a white long sleeved blouse that flows nicely over my curves and chest.

At five foot two I have to wear heals to give me some height, so I put on my black leather ankle boots. I finished the looks with my black leather jacket, a scarf and a few bits of silver jewellery.

Looking Alec over, I grin. He’s wearing the university’s tracksuit and he looks good in it, really good. He’s not big, but he does have muscles on him, and it shows in his outfit.

“You ready for your first day?’’ I ask, ignoring his compliment.

“Yep,’’ he grins, pulling me closer. “What about you?’’

“Gonna rock these classes,’’ I grin teasingly.

He laughs looking down at me. “I’m sure you will. I need to go over to the sports centre but if you want we can meet up for lunch. You up for it?’’

“Sure. We finish around one-ish.’’

“I’ll meet you in the cafeteria,’’ he smiles, bending down and kissing me. I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“See you later,’’ I grin.

“Wow!’’ Allie smirks, walking up to me, her cheeks pink. “Now that’s a good morning.’’

I giggle, looking to my best friend. She looks so adorable today. I’ve always admired her fashion choices and always wish I could pull off some of her looks. Today she’s wearing her tartan leggings and a black crop top, showing only a little bit of skin of her slim waist. The top has red writing reading, ‘I’m the nerd’. She’s finished her outfit with a pair of red pumps and her favourite black coat. She looks every bit of nerd as her t-shirt suggests.

Beautifully so.

“You okay eating with Alec later?’’ I ask her, feeling stupid for not talking to her about it before.

“Yeah. We have creative writing together before lunch, so we’re good. We need to get going. What do you have first again?’’

“Introduction to Journalism,’’ I grin, feeling excited about getting started.

“See you in creative writing then,’’ she smiles, reaching for me and pulling me in for a hug.

We say our goodbyes and head off in different directions. Allie is in the main English building where we’ll have creative writing together next. I, on the other hand, am in the media building on the far side of the courtyard, thankfully not too far away from the main building.

Realising I don’t have my morning pick me up anymore, I groan. I should have looked around quickly for a coffee stand so I could grab one before heading into class.

One of the women that walked us around on our tour said there are multiple coffee stands around the main buildings. But looking around I can’t see one set up anywhere. I’ll have to remember to ask around so that I’ll know for next time.

A few other students mill around chatting and I start to feel overwhelmed. I’m so out of my element here. Most people seem to know each other, have already made friends and for the first time in forever, I feel alone.

I scream for my life when two arms wrap around me for the second time this morning. As I’m spinning my eyes catch Cole. A smile lights up my face, even though I’m fighting hard not to vomit.

“Put me down you big turd,’’ I shout, giggling.

He chuckles before dropping me to my feet. I clutch my bag when it slides down my arm and end up swaying forward as I try to catch my bearings.

Another set of arms reach out to steady me, steeling the breath out of me. My cheeks heat when I look up, getting lost in Cole’s gaze.

“Well, look at you two,’’ I hear CJ comment, sounding amused.

Our gazes turn to CJ, who is leaning against the wall sipping a Starbucks.

My eyes bulge out when I see it before snatching it out of his hand. “Hey, where were you hiding this?’’ I ask, knowing he wasn’t holding it when he was busy swinging me around. I hum in appreciation and Cole chuckles, the sound deep and husky. I turn my questions glance to him and his eyes flicker to the side of him where two steaming cups are sitting on the windowsill.

“That’s mine,’’ CJ pouts, taking the coffee goodness from me, making me weep.

Cole’s lips twitch as he hands me a cup. I take the cup, my face agape with surprise. I’m also not going to let down a free cup of coffee, but it’s not going to stop me questioning him.

“How? How did you know?’’ I question, stunned.

“You told me Saturday you were talking this class,’’ he shrugs, looking almost shy. I’m so surprised. I don’t even remember telling him about what classes I had taken.

Wait?

Does this mean... “Wait! Hold up. Are you in this class too?’’ I attack, feeling shocked as I eye Cole. When he doesn’t respond I look to CJ, who is happily leaning against the wall with a cocky grin and posture. I raise my eyebrow at him and he just shrugs, opening his arms wide, still wearing that cocky grin.

“You wanna hug the shit out of us right now, don’t you?’’ he smirks.

Wipe that smirk off his face is more like it.

A group of girls walk past gaining my attention as they begin to slow down. Even without looking I can tell they’re not looking at me. No. They’re looking at Cole and CJ. I confirm this when I turn my head a little to the left, finding one of the girls eyeing Cole with appreciation as she moves past.

“Hey Cole,’’ one of the girls wave, stopping short. She blinks her eyelashes at him, looking like she wants to eat him alive. She’s attractive, don’t get me wrong, but she seems like the kind of person who knows it and uses it to her advantage. Girls like that annoy the shit out of me.

I want to grunt, and I do, inwardly, so that that I don’t draw attention to myself. There is no way I’m making enemies on my first day, especially with someone that has the potential to annoy the crap out of me.

“Christie,’’ CJ greets, his voice amused.

When they walk off I turn back to Cole and CJ with a raised eyebrow. “Friends of yours?’’ I ask.

CJ smirks, his eyes flickering to Cole when he doesn’t answer. He’s just looking at me, his eyes blank as well as his expression. It’s killing me that I can’t read him as easily as I can other people.

“Something like that. She has a thing for Cole here,’’ CJ chuckles which gets a grunt from Cole.

I nod my head like I understand. Truth is I don’t, but it’s also none of my business. Not wanting things to become awkward I wave my cup of coffee and tip my chin up at Cole.

“Thanks again for the coffee. I need to get going.’’

CJ looks like he wants to say something, but luckily he doesn’t. I hardly know him, but I can already tell whatever was going to come out of his mouth would have either embarrassed me or Cole, or even both of us.

Walking off, I head inside the classroom ready to start the lesson. The teacher is already present and standing at the front, shuffling papers on his desk. He’s much younger than I expected him to be. His experience and the fact he’s highly recommended as a teacher made me think he was older. But he must only be in his late twenties, early thirties.

Opting to keep out of sight until I get a feel for him and the class, I find a table at the back of the room and take a seat.

In the midst of grabbing my writing pad and pencil case the two chairs scrape back on either side of me. Excited to meet other students I lift my head with a wide smile on my face, ready to introduce myself. My smile falls when my eyes reach Cole’s deep blue ones. Slowly and reluctantly, I turn my head to the other side of me, already knowing who to expect, and I’m right when I find CJ taking a seat, looking at me with an amused expression.

I roll my eyes, muttering, “Great. Just fucking great,’’ under my breath.

I ignore CJ’s chuckle and Cole in general and listen to the teacher introduce himself as Professor Oliver Moby before listening to him discuss the course and what’s expected from us.

Everyone sits back taking notes just like I am. I actually find Professor Moby interesting and can really see myself enjoying his class.

The class is coming to an end and Professor Moby finishes the lesson off with a question.

“There isn’t a right or wrong answer to this; this is just me trying to get a feel for you and what you want to achieve. If you could run your own magazine, what would you as the editor run as the main featured articles?’’

He points to a lad in the front row, asking him to stand up and introduce himself and give us his answer.

“I’m Zeke Berry,’’ he waves, giving the room a smile. “I’d find out the truth about celebrities. I think most of what is written in today’s papers, on social media is just assumption. I’d find out how they really live, what the real story is and get their side, not a reporter’s side.’’

I grunt loudly, not meaning too. But I’m just wondering if this guy knows anything about magazines at all. Most of them now have everything
celebrity
. There isn’t a magazine or newspaper out there that doesn’t have a celebrity on the front page with some over the top headline. If it isn’t pictures of how much weight a celebrity has gained or pictures of celebs caught with sweat patches on the red carpet, then it’s something else close to that.

“You disagree, miss...?’’ Professor Moby calls out, and everyone turn their attention to me and I blush. When he gestures for me to stand I swallow back my nerves and rise slowly from my seat, putting on a calm mask.

“Willow Saunders,’’ I call out. “And yes, I disagree,’’ I tell him before addressing the room. “Are you really telling me the size of Kim Kardashian’s arse is more important than reporting real problems, real stories and crimes?” I ask and the room chuckles.

“A few years ago a girl was brutally raped and was forced to keep her baby because of her religion. The papers didn’t need to reveal the full story, but they could have reported the rape. Instead of this being headline news, a story about a young teenage boy getting into a fight was headlined.

“When a celebrity dies of cancer, it’s all over social media, printed in magazines all over the world, but what about the survivors of cancer? Why aren’t their stories just as important? I’m not saying celebs don’t deserve to have recognition, they do. My argument is,
too
many news outlets concentrate far too much on the same stories, on the same people.

“The world we live in is changing, it’s progressing. I personally believe that people’s stories are worth telling. It gives other people hope, faith. It shows them they aren’t alone in any situation.

“A celebrity loses weight and it’s posted everywhere. But they get more help losing their weight. They’ve got money to lose that weight. There are people out there who work twice as hard that deserve to show others out there that they can do it, that they can achieve their goal without having wealth.

“People may want to read celeb gossip, but they also want to read something new, something fresh and different.

“I also believe it would be beneficial. Think of all the magazines you see on the shelves. Same celebs, same stories, just different headings, they’re competing.

“A woman from my hometown went backpacking ten years ago with her boyfriend. Long story short he was eaten by a person, a Cannibal, a monster, and she barely escaped alive,’’ I tell them. This is the story I submitted as an entry assignment for this class. Professor Moby must have seen it, and when I look up I notice his recognition flash in his eyes.

With my pause I take the time to look around the classroom, seeking out their reactions. They look stunned, some looking horrified and I give them a small smile.

“Now, put your hand up if that little disclosure makes you want to know more?’’

Slowly, one by one, the students raise their hands. When enough of them have their hands up I look back to the front of the classroom to Professor Moby and shrug, proving my point.

BOOK: Foul Play (Whithall University Book 1)
3.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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