  Elena
  &quot;Ugh, you simply must, Elena,&quot; Isaac says yet again in that Scottish accent of his that I love so much. He was currently trying to convince me to come to the MacGowan Biannual family gathering. &quot;I already told you I hate these things!&quot; I say, yet again, but he only rolls his eyes, then smirks devilishly. Oh, no. I know this smile all too well. This smile got me in trouble in my second week here at Exeter when he made me ask a professor for their number just to slip it to him. Did I forget to mention that he was a naughty bastard?
  &quot;Well, Edgar Cooke will be there, but I guess you hate these things too much to come,&quot; He says and turns to walk away. But I grab his wrist and pull him back. &quot;Excuse me, tart?&quot; I ask him and see his grin growing to super villain levels. &quot;Yes, Edgar Cooke will be there. You know, your favourite author and 

  Elena
  I haven t been feeling the best these last few weeks. A stomach bug has me in the grips of its wrath and I cannot cope. Sebastian has made an appointment for me to see our family doctor and I am currently sitting outside waiting for my turn to see her. It s been almost 6 months since my Exeter enrollment, and I must say things are starting to look up. I am breezing through the assignments, and my professors all seem to have taken a shine to me. This is what surprised me most!
  Sebastian doesn t seem surprised at this. It is as if he sees my potential where I see nothing but faults, and I love him so much for that. After his parents  passing, he has thrown himself into being the Dumont head and I barely even see him. I miss him, but we sort of have this thing between us where we would leave brief notes for the other when we know we won t see each other for a while. It sets me a

  Elena
  I flop face down on my bed.
  Today was my first day at Exeter, and I just about burnt thousands of calories due to my anxiety and nerves. I do not know if being anxious burns calories, but it burns something all right. My brain, for one. Anabelle is in a different league to me altogether, her classes are intense English Lit, like I would not cope in her position. But since she s a literature prodigy, its chump change to her.
  At least one person had the courage to come and talk to me. His name was Isaac McGowan, and he was such a refreshing sight! Yes, he was from the MacGowan clan of Scotland and disgustingly well off, but he did not feel the need to suck up to me or try to impress me with his stories or wealth. I suppose it helps a lot that he was flat out gay. Ah, I am a homosexual magnet and I love it!
  &quot;Rough day?&quot; The amused voice of my husband came as he wal

Elena
  &quot;Ugh, you simply must, Elena,&quot; Isaac says yet again in that Scottish accent of his that I love so much. He was currently trying to convince me to come to the MacGowan Biannual family gathering. &quot;I already told you I hate these things!&quot; I say, yet again, but he only rolls his eyes, then smirks devilishly. Oh, no. I know this smile all too well. This smile got me in trouble in my second week here at Exeter when he made me ask a professor for their number just to slip it to him. Did I forget to mention that he was a naughty bastard?
  &quot;Well, Edgar Cooke will be there, but I guess you hate these things too much to come,&quot; He says and turns to walk away. But I grab his wrist and pull him back. &quot;Excuse me, tart?&quot; I ask him and see his grin growing to super villain levels. &quot;Yes, Edgar Cooke will be there. You know, your favourite author and all. Did I forget to mention that he s my godfather? And I asked him to come as a favour but it s ok

Chapter 49 A Real Friend Wouldn’t