Page 94 of The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy 1)
“I … ask me next week,” I say, turning back to him and exhaling. Fuck it. I'll just pick a day at random and tell him. But somewhere public. Spencer gives me a raised brow, but he turns back and finishes his work on the door as I sit on the bed and watch.
“I'm going to hold you to that, Carson,” he murmurs, and I grin. Good. I hope he does.
I steer the conversation to safer waters—like spring break plans—until Spencer's declared his work done. He's installed a metal kick plate, dead bolt, chain, and brand-new locks, as well as a door stopper.
“Even the best thief will have to cut a hole in this door to get in,” he tells me, checking the window next, and adding a few locks to that, too. It's not as important as we're on the seventh floor, but it makes me feel better anyway. “If you need to go to the bathroom, text one of us. We'll take it in shifts.”
“Thank you,” I say as Spencer picks up his bag and gives me a look.
“For what?” he asks, pausing on his way out the door.
“For protecting me,” I tell him, pushing him out and closing the door most of the way. “And for … waiting to ask me out.” We exchange a long, lingering look before I close and lock the door, listening as Spencer fiddles with it from the outside.
I almost call him back.
But if I did … I'm not sure what would happen between us, only that it'd be racy and wild, and I'm not sure I'm ready for it. Not yet.The next few weeks are pretty uneventful, to the point where it all sort of becomes this big game. Sometimes we trudge around campus, exploring hidden areas that only Spencer seems to know about, and trying the gold key on any lock we can find.
There are no more notes, no more chases, just Culinary Club meetings and hang-outs with the Student Council. They're actually … not so bad. I think I might like them.
A few weeks into March, I actually get a response back from one of Jenica's classmates.
“Guys,” I whisper, standing up suddenly from the chair in the corner of the culinary classroom. “We've got a hit!” Ranger's across the room in a white apron with a vintage strawberry print, snatching the phone from my hand and scanning the message. It's pretty simple: yeah, I knew Jenica. And sure, I have the yearbook. What do you need?
Ranger looks up, licking his lips.
“Text them back?” he asks, and I nod. It's not long before the pictures start coming in, all these photos of the old yearbook pages. Jenica's in a lot of them. A lot.
“Your sister was pretty popular, huh?” I ask as I look at her smiling face, her eyes and hair so similar to Ranger's it'd be impossible to miss the family resemblance. This one's a group shot of the Culinary Club, with Jenica as their president. Around her neck … there's a key.
“This is the silver key, right?” I ask Ranger, tapping at the screen of my phone. The other boys are gathered around behind us. “The one you already had?” He nods, and I keep skipping through the photos. There's her class picture, the only female face among all those dudes.
About halfway through, we find a picture of her with her arm around Mr. Murphy. Only … Mr. Murphy's wearing a uniform.
“Mr. Murphy used to go here?” I ask, and Church replies, still holding a cup of coffee in his hands.
“Most the staff are alumni. I'd say a good seventy-five percent of them.” He takes another sip as we all stare at the picture.
“Were they dating?” I ask, but Ranger gives me a really weird look, like I've lost my mind.
“No, definitely not. She was dating her childhood friend, Rick.”
“As far as you know,” I tell him, giving him a look that says I'm a girl, trust me, I know these things. “The way they're holding each other, that goes way beyond the casual. You don't hold someone like that if you don't like them.”
“So … you're saying we need to kick Mr. Murphy's ass?” the twins ask in unison, but I give them a look.
“No, we need to talk to him,” I explain, and they both make a moue of disappointment. “In fact, let me do it. There's that fitness test thing tomorrow that I'm excused from. It'll give me a minute to speak with him privately.”
“What are you planning on saying?” Spencer asks as I keep thumbing through the pictures. The guy who's been texting us lets us know that's all he has, but says if we have any questions to let him know. I plan to grill him later. For now, I just focus on Mr. Murphy.
