Page 18 of The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy 1)
I get in my usual way and settle down with a book, a soda, and some granola bars I pinched from the cafeteria. Setting my stuff on the coffee table, I notice some spatters of red wax, and some scorch marks, like somebody set candles up here, too.
My first thought is that the Student Council knows I come here, and thought they'd surprise me here, too. But joke’s on them. I haven't been coming for the last week or so. Setting my mouth in a determined line, I settle in with my book—some story about a half-angel who summons ghosts called Spirited—and decide I'm making a stand here.
These guys, they all think I'm a dude. Pretty sure they will beat me up if I push too hard, but I don't care.
So for a while, I read by flashlight. Since I don't have my phone, I have no idea what time it is, and I don't want to get stuck out here too late. After a few chapters, I stand up, gather my things, and then pause to study the class picture that's hanging on the wall.
Across the top, there's the Adamson All-Boys Academy crest with the lion inside the shield. Underneath it, however, it just says Adamson Academy. The all-boys part is missing. Guess the picture is hanging on the wall in the girls' dorm. Maybe they were trying to transition to the new name?
Leaning in, I study the faces in the photo, scanning across the boys until I come to … a girl. My mouth drops open as I lock eyes with her smiling face. She's kneeling in the front row in a pleated blue skirt and blazer, her hair long and dark, bangs straight, cut right across her arched brows. There’s a small key around her neck with a little ribbon tied around it.
I had no idea there ever was a female student in this school. My dad never mentioned it. The way he presented the information, I was supposed to be the first girl to attend Adamson.
“What the hell?” I reach my fingers up and brush them against the girl's face, a frown taking over my lips. I'd wondered why there was a half-finished dormitory, covered in dust, and abandoned like we were living in the Last of Us, but … I never knew they'd actually started accepting women into the academy. “Huh.”
Moving away from the photo, I head back to the window and climb out.
As I'm walking back to the dorm, I hear movement in the bushes and pause, turning the flashlight that direction.
A flash of color catches my attention, and I feel the blood drain from my face.
“Hey!” I shout, but whoever it is takes off running, and I don't get a good look at them. Doesn't mean I don't get chills down my spine, or that I myself don't start running. I don't stop until I'm safely inside the downstairs lounge.
Ranger is there, lying on the couch with headphones on. He narrows his eyes at me as I pass, but I don't care. I flip him off and force myself to walk the rest of the way back to my room.
As I fall asleep that night, I can see that girl's sapphire eyes, staring back at me.“Dad, you don't understand!” I snap as he moves around the kitchen, sloshing coffee onto the toes of his loafers and cursing. He grabs a wad of paper towels and dabs at them while I desperately try to plead my case. “They broke my phone.”
“Yes, Charlotte, I know,” he says, getting irritated with me. “Church Montague already came by and apologized on behalf of the entire Student Council.”
“He did?” I ask, blinking in surprise.
“He said you guys were horsing around, and that Micah … or was it Tobias? … anyway, one of those McCarthy twins, bumped into you and it fell out of your pocket. He already purchased you a new one.”
My mouth drops open.
“N-no, that's not how it happened at all!” But Dad is beyond late, and has pretty much stopped listening to me. He hands me a box from the kitchen island, and I look down to see a new Samsung.
I had an iPhone.
My mouth purses, and I squeeze the box with tight fingers.
“I had an iPhone, not a Samsung.”
“They're exactly the same,” Dad says, pushing past me and heading for the front door.
“They are not the same,” I grind out. I'm not trying to be a brat, but come on. Church did not get me the wrong phone on accident. “And that's not how the phone got—”
“Charlotte,” Dad snaps, turning around at the front door and giving me a look. The skin around his blue eyes crinkles with frustration. “You've caused enough trouble as it is. Look, Church came and apologized for their part in the incident. Now, have you apologized for yours?”
