Pushing Limits (Fighting Love #1) - kali cross Page 0,71

Now I have to go out there with a hard-on.

You’re killing me. ;)

Bye, darlin’

I text:

Bye, baby

My phone pings:

I love it when you call me that.

It’s gonna be a long night. Sweet dreams!

A smile spreads over my lips and I start my calculus homework. My calculus homework is a bitch! It’s not hard for me. I just let so much build up. Why did I procrastinate? Around midnight, I pat myself on the back for catching up in another class. Two more classes to go, and I can get into a grove.

My phone pings with a text from Sally:

Hey Girlie!

I won’t be home tonight.

In case you didn’t guess that already.

Met someone new.

You’re goin’ on Friday, right?

I text her:

Hey Sally! Yup, I’m going.

Have fun! I’ll see you in the morning.

***

I’m up early to get caught up on my reading for Contemporary British Fiction. Professor Stewart has assigned Brideshead Revisited. It’s actually pretty good. It reminds me of a book I had to read in high school called The Remains of the Day. The only downer is…it’s frickin’ four hundred pages long, so I’ll be reading it all weekend and into next week, and then I get to write a paper on it. Yay me!

I head over to the student union to grab a bite before my next class. Man, I’m starving. Taking a tray I head over to the omelet station and peruse the vegetables and meats destined for the omelets. Everything looks fresh. The chef makes my omelet and I walk over to the cashier, swiping my card, and take a seat at an empty table. Not many people are in here this early, but I notice a group of girls and another group of guys and girls. I dig in to my food. I had some coffee in the room, but I want to head to Starbucks for a fix and I’m short on time.

I am entranced with my food when I notice someone standing next to my table. I look up into the eyes of one pissed off sorority chick. Now, almost everyone here looks like a sorority chick, but this one is proudly sporting a Tri Psi shirt with one big ass frown.

“I worked hard to get into this school,” she says, her hands on her hips, sneer intact. “I mean really hard. I studied every weekend for a year for my SATs and worked my butt off in high school so I could go here. I didn’t have a rich mommy and daddy who merely wrote a check, and BAM, I was in. I had to work to be accepted.” She crosses her arms and glares at me.

“Uh. Congratulations?” I say. Great! Another one? How did this get all over campus?

“Right,” she says, rolling her eyes. Pointing her finger at me, she says, “Someone like you tarnishes this place. Someone like you takes a big ‘ol dump on everything I worked for and everyone here. All you had to do was have your mama and daddy write a check. You make me sick. Why don’t you hop a plane to the Hamptons or Beverly Hills and go back to where you came from? Give your spot to someone who worked for it.”

“Wow. Why don’t you fuck off?” I say and return my attention to my meal as my blood pounds in my ears and I feel my chest tighten. I feel like throwing up my breakfast as I stare down at my plate, hardening my heart and shaking off this wonderful confrontation. I pray my blush will fade and not show this chick she has gotten to me.

Luckily when she realizes I’m not going to give her the argument or retaliation she expects, she flips her hair, and walks back to her table. More whispers and stares float from her table.

I stay and pick at my food hoping they will leave soon. I’m determined not to let them chase me off. How the fuck does anyone know anything about me?

I grab a Starbucks and drink to this wonderful elixir of dark roast coffee, milk, and today…chocolate. “Sweet nectar of the Gods” escapes from my lips every time because it just fucking is…sweet nectar. The explosion of caffeine, the heat of the coffee warming my mouth, the bite in my cheeks after I swallow. Damn, it’s pure joy and after that breakfast, I fucking deserve it.

I head over to the courts, thankful for a chance to play. I have loved tennis since I was six years old. The