Joanne Sefton Book 2. Joanne Sefton

around Alex like two planets around a dazzling sun. While Karen’s attitude to Misty veered between envy, annoyance and vague tolerance, she adored Alex and would spend every minute in her company if she could. She was never happier than when they strolled along to lectures, arms linked, heads bent together in giggling confidence, Misty safely packed off for a day in the lab. But even underlying the adoration, there was jealousy.

      Because she and Alex read the same subject, Karen saw first-hand how clever Alex was. She grasped ideas instantly – and had the deftness to play and juggle with them – whilst for Karen they remained slippery and difficult to keep hold of, or else altogether out of reach. This wouldn’t be so bad, if Alex was just a brain on legs, but she was anything but. She was beautiful too – much more obviously than Misty. She had the assurance and polish of a privileged upbringing, but one that shared none of the staidness of Karen’s.

      Everyone adored Alex’s bohemian academic parents – rumour had it her dad had inherited a fortune, along with a title he disdained using. Her mum was a refugee from Franco’s regime in Spain. Their party last term had been the talk of the whole university. In the future, Alex and Misty would be people who mattered. Karen would just be someone who’d gone to university with them. Probably an admissions mistake. It wasn’t hard to imagine that more than one Karen Cooper might have applied.

      ‘There you are!’

      Alex’s voice jolted her out of her reverie.

      ‘Alex. Misty. How did you know where to find me?’

      ‘Sara Neves told us about you puking in the buttery. She said you’d headed out in this direction.’