Love to Hate You by Pippa Langhorn EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Authors: Pippa Langhorn
- Language: English
- Genre: Sports Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
As I hurried across the quad, I checked the time on the great big clock on
the Lincoln Building.
“Shit. Five minutes late,” I muttered to myself, gripping my books
tighter, prepared to run if I had to. And I was going to have to.
All around me was the bustle of Chester University. Students lounging,
playing, relaxing, waltzing carefree to their next class or the café or library,
enjoying the rare bit of sun at the beginning of Winter or, like me,
desperately trying to make it to their next class on time and wishing they
hadn’t picked subjects that were on the opposite ends of the campus.
Then something hit me in the back of the head, my arms opened so they
could catch me if I fell, my books dropped to the pavement, and I managed
to catch myself from tumbling forwards. I closed my eyes and tilted my
face to the sun to pray for patience.
It was Friday. Just a few more classes until I could pretend that I was
going to take a break for the weekend. In my defence, I did have a small
break planned. I had an actual date and I’d promised my older brother that
I’d make an appearance at his party for a few minutes. All that should take
me a few hours, then I could get my essay finished.
But to get to that, I had to collect my books off the ground, find a
paracetamol or two for my burgeoning headache, and make it through
Richard’s English Literary Studies lecture and following tute.
I heard familiar laughter as someone jogged up behind me, and I was in
even more desperate need of that patience.
“I called ‘heads’. Didn’t you hear me?” the familiar voice asked.
I picked up my last book and turned to find him checking out where my
arse had been moments before. He was in a baggy green tank top and grey
track pants with grass-stained trainers. His patented cocky smirk travelled
up my body to meet my eyes as he tucked the offending soccer ball under
his arm. I kept one eye on it. Just because he was holding it didn’t mean it
wasn’t going to hit me in the head again.
“Gaol-bait,” he said with a nod.
“Pond Scum,” I replied with a nod of my own, figuring the deployment
of one insulting nickname deserved another. “Don’t you have classes to get
to?”
“Unlike you, mine are optional.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yours aren’t optional,” I reminded him. “You just don’t
have to be in the lecture theatre.”
He shrugged. “Same difference. That’s what little children get.”
Ugh. I wanted to thump him.
Yes, strictly speaking, I was still in high school, and he was at university.
Big freaking whoop.
Chester University ran a pre-entry program for Year 11 and 12 students as
Chester University Senior College. We lived, half-boarding school/halfcollege dorm style, in the Chester township about an hour out of Adelaide
and took our classes on the university campus. As minors, we were given a
very long leash.
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