Page 62 of The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy 1)
Biting my lip in thought, I get up and dig around in my stuff until I find a big, metal nail file. This I wedge into the crack and jiggle around, and sure enough, it seems the floorboard's a tad loose. I pick and pry at it, but the nail file breaks long before the board ever comes up. It might be loose, but it's not about to magically pop off and reveal a secret, hidden chamber.
Sitting back on my heels, I try to tell myself it's just one crystal of many, and that it's no big deal. Only … it kind of is to me because my mom gave that suncatcher to me as a gift, and now … she's in rehab and too ashamed of what her life's become to even let me see her.
“I'm getting that damn crystal back,” I grumble, heading downstairs to the janitor's closet. It's supposed to be locked, but there's been a day or two here and there where Eddie the Janitor’s left the giant bolt hanging loose. I pray today's one of those days and give a huge fist pump like a total dork when I see it's open.
As I pass by the community corkboard however, another note catches my attention, and I'm suddenly reminded that there's not only an asshole on this campus who's willing to use a knife to intimidate me, but also knows my real gender.
I snatch the piece of paper from the tack and read it carefully.Dear Eve,
You should have stayed in California.
Keep your head down and stay quiet.
I don't like nosy bitches.
Love, AdamChills shoot through my body as I clutch the piece of paper with its menacing words scrawled in purple ink. Whoever this 'Adam' guy is, his note has severely escalated its aggression.
“Jesus,” I groan, pulling the note against my chest. I go to the janitor's closet anyway, and dig out a crowbar and a hammer. Best case scenario, I get the floorboard up. Worst case scenario … I can use both items as a weapon.
I hurry back up to my room as fast as I can, and I promise myself that the feeling of eyes following me is just my imagination.The next morning, I'm bleary-eyed and exhausted, but I've got the satisfaction of knowing I have my crystal back. The floorboard did not come up nice and clean and easy. Instead, it splintered in parts, and even though I've jammed it back in place, it doesn't look so hot. Underneath the boards there was just the rough wood of a subfloor, some pennies, and lots of dust bunnies.
Nothing cool or mysterious to be seen.
When I tell the twins about the note, they exchange a look and tell me to meet them after school.
During Mr. Murphy's English class, I try to distract myself by checking him out, but every time I think about something that's nice about him—like his tight, firm butt or his full mouth—it seems so much less enticing when compared to Spencer. Or the twins.
I can't seem to get the bullying dickheads from the Student Council out of my mind.
After school lets out, the twins surprise me by showing up with a picnic, and then escorting me down to the girls' dorm. I've missed coming here, but only an idiot would traipse through the woods alone in the dark to hang out in an abandoned building with a maniac on the loose.
“Do you think I should tell my dad about the notes?” I ask as they unlock the door and let us in. It feels almost wrong not to go in my usual way. “Where did you get those keys anyway?”
“Which question would you have us answer first?” they say, stepping back and holding their hands out to gesture me inside.
I slip past them and settle down on the couch, noticing that the class photo of Jenica that I left on the table last time I was here is gone.
“What the hell …?” I murmur, checking around on the floor, and even underneath the sofa. It's not back on the nail either. It's just … vanished. “Jenica's picture is missing.”
The twins exchange a look and then glance back at me.
“You didn't take it?” they ask, and I shake my head. It seemed wrong to remove it from this place, like clearly this girls' dorm was started for her, the first female student at Adamson. The photo belonged here.
“No. At least I still have a picture on my phone though …” I glance over at them with narrowed eyes. “My Samsung. Thankfully I've got everything set to auto-upload to the cloud. You could've cost me some irreplaceable memories, you know that?”
“We have to save face,” the boys reply, shrugging together before they each take up one of the big, comfy (but rather dusty) armchairs that sit across from one another.
