The New Girl (ST. SWITHINS COLLEGE #1) by Constance Kent EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Constance Kent
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
My first week at St. Swithins College went pretty much as I expected.
Near invisibility would describe it. For half-a-second when I first
arrived, I thought things were going to be different here. The student
body president is one of the best looking men I have ever seen and when I
was moving my stuff into my dorm room, he crashed into me in the hall.
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It’s a narrow hall and not very well lit. It could have been an accident
but it felt like he’d done it on purpose. Our eyes met and he didn’t look
away like most guys do when they realize I’m not hot enough for them.
He said: “You’re the new girl.”
I said: “Am I?” It was a serious question. Even an exclusive college of
five hundred must have more than one new student enrolled. Acceptance is
rare, but not that rare.
He picked up the clothes that had fallen out of the black plastic bag I
was carrying before he crashed into me and handed them back.
The guy stared at me in such a fixed way that I thought he must know
me–or thought he knew me. He could have been mixing me up with
someone else. I have the kind of face that looks familiar until it doesn’t.
Then he said: “See you around” and sauntered off down the hall.
St. Swithins is incredibly old. The light fixtures are from the 1940s and
don’t throw a lot of light.
I took the encounter as an omen of exciting things to come.
Consequently, I was buzzing when I stumbled into my dorm room and met
my roommate for the first time.
Alexis Bancroft graciously burst my bubble.
“Lysander Stark is so far out of your orbit that if he said anything to
you at all, it was out of pity. I’m not trying to be mean. I’m just setting you
straight on how things work around here so you don’t put your foot in your
mouth and get shot down.”
Mixed metaphors aside, Alexis was mean, no matter what she intended.
Her cultured, Hamptons-bred accent didn’t fool me one bit. She was a bitch
and she was my roommate until she managed to get a private room, which
she informed me was going to happen this term even if she had to kill
someone to make it happen. Swithins was so old that private rooms were
unheard of.
She informed me that Lysander Stark was a year ahead of us. He was
some sort of child prodigy, accelerated through the educational system and
was poised to become the youngest professor of medieval literature in the
United States.
He was rich, desirable, intensely handsome, and yet could give a shit
about his looks or his appearance, according to Alexis.
She said: “I mean, if he remembers to put on a tie for dinner, never
mind a black one, it’s a miracle. FYI, we dress for dinner at Swithy. I hope
you have something suitable to wear in that plastic bag you’re carrying. Is
that really your luggage? Or your laundry.”
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