The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy #1) - C.M. Stunich
Author's Note
***Possible Spoilers***
The Secret Girl is a reverse harem, high school bully romance. What does that mean exactly? It means our female main character, Charlotte Carson, will end up with at least three love interests by the end of the series. It also means that for a portion of this book, the love interests quite literally bully Charlotte, although if you’ve read my other series Rich Boys of Burberry Prep, this is a much lighter read. This book in no way condones bullying, nor does it romanticize it. The love interests in this story do have reason for their actions, and do attempt to make it up by the end of book one.
Any kissing/sexual scenes featuring Charlotte aka Chuck are consensual. This book might be about high school students, but it is not what I would consider young adult. The characters are quirky, the emotions real, the f-word in prolific use. There’s some underage drinking, sexual situations, mention of a side character’s possible suicide, and other adult scenarios although this remains a fairly lighthearted read.
Charlotte starts off as a bit of a brat, but I hope you hang around for her character growth. ;)
None of the main characters is under the age of sixteen. This series will have a happy ending in the third and final book.
Reading Order:
Adamson All-Boys Academy Series
The Secret Girl
The Ruthless Boys
The Forever Crew
It looks less like a school, and more like a castle.
I stand at the edge of the lawn in front of Adamson's All-Boys Academy, and I try to remember how it feels to breathe. Orange, red, and yellow leaves swirl around the ankles of my slacks as I hitch my bag a little higher up on my shoulder and push on down the curving path toward the employee entrance.
My dad's not far ahead of me, cursing at the random droplets of rain spattering down on our heads. He unlocks the door, gestures me inside, and then closes it behind him.
“Why don't you head down to the cafeteria, find a spot, and get settled?” Dad asks, trying to smile at me. I'm frowning at him. I'm still mad. I'll probably stay mad the rest of the year because …
“My boobs hurt,” I blurt, and he flushes bright red. “And the bandages are pulling on my nipples.”
“Charlotte,” he snaps back, reaching up to rub at his forehead. “May I remind you that this was your idea, not mine. It's day one, and it’s not too late to change your mind.”
“No thank you,” I quip, turning and pushing out of the office and into the hallway. From bright California sunshine, beaches and bikinis, to … this. Frost-nipped air, piles of slimy dead leaves, and an all-boys school looking to experiment on me. I’ve been here two minutes and already I don’t like it. Back in Santa Cruz, I had friends, a boyfriend, and a passion for surfing. Here in … where are we again? Nobody-Gives-a-Crap, Connecticut?
The hallways here are cavernous, with stone arches and brick walls, windows made of delicate stained-glass, and mosaic floors. The teachers are all stuffy and dressed in suits, as opposed to my last school where most of the staff wore shorts and sneakers.
My chest is tight as I pull up the school map on my phone and make my way to the cafeteria. Apparently, Adamson has won all sorts of awards for their school food. It’s all sustainable, and primarily grown in greenhouses in the back. There’s even a chicken coop that all students are required to take a two week shift helping with. Yeah, so not looking forward to that.
Slipping in the big, double wooden doors, I find the room empty save for a single boy in the corner, hunched over a bowl of cream of wheat or oatmeal or something. He glances up as I walk in, adjusts his ear buds, and then looks back down at the open book sitting beside his bowl.
For a moment there, my heart stops, and I freeze just inside the door, holding my backpack and reaching up a hand to touch my newly shorn hair. Back in California, it was long, blond and luxurious. Now, it’s … cut in this nerdy, androgynous sort of way—long in the front and on the top, short on the sides and back. It’s naturally curly, too, so if I don’t straighten it, it flops in ringlets over my forehead and looks even shorter. Paired with my thick-framed black glasses (I usually wear contacts), an oversized blazer, and the athletic