The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,11
talking at all, just smoking a cigarette on the edge of the bonfire. They're all wearing third year uniforms, but I don't recognize anyone but Eugene. Not that I would. I haven't spent much time with any of the other students. That is, unless you count the assholes from today.
I move back, and turn to leave, but with my night vision messed up from the light of the fire, I only make it a few feet before I trip over a log and grunt.
The chatter back at the bonfire goes quiet.
“The hell was that?” one of the guys asks as I scramble to my feet, heart racing, and take off as fast as I can through the forest. My breath is panting, face stinging from the slaps of branches. I'm just about to emerge safely onto the running path when a hand grabs me from behind and spins me, slamming my back into a tree trunk.
I groan as pain radiates down my spine, and then grunt as my pursuer puts his forearm against my throat.
“Who the hell are you, and what the fuck are you doing creeping around on us?” I reach up and curl my fingers around the guy's arm, but he's got muscles that are as hard as rocks. I can barely see him through the darkness. He's pressing so hard, I can feel myself getting lightheaded. I most definitely can't talk to save my life.
As if he can sense that, he releases the pressure just slightly, and I find myself gasping for breath.
Turquoise eyes sparkle at me through the darkness.
“I … got locked out of the dorm,” I whisper, my voice husky and strained. My attacker—I think this is the Spencer guy—lets go of me and I collapse, coughing and holding my throat.
“Wow, you must be new or stupid or both. There's an emergency fire exit in the back that's always open.” I lift my eyes up to look at him as he cocks his head slightly to the side and studies me. “First person out sticks a brick in there to keep it open. It's like an unwritten rule.”
I stand back up, rubbing at my throat and looking warily at this jerk.
“If it's unwritten, then how the hell was I supposed to know about it?” I snap, wondering if I'm brave or stupid for defying some mystery creeper with rock-hard muscles who attacks people in the dark like a goddamn ninja.
“What did you see out here tonight?” he asks me, and there's this cold, quiet menace in his voice that gives me the chills. He's clearly looking for a very specific answer.
“If you leave me alone and promise to not to assault me again, then nothing.” I keep my hand to my throat, and step back in a slight crouch when the guy moves toward me again. I've got the knife in the mini backpack slung over my shoulder. I'm not afraid to use it either.
“You're the new guy, huh? Chuck Carson, the headmaster's son.” The boy smirks. I can barely make out his face, but I could recognize a cocky expression from, like, miles away. There's this aura of arrogance that accompanies it that transcends sight. “You haven't made a lot of friends at Adamson, now have you?”
“Thanks for the tip about the brick. And yeah, I'm sure my neck will be bruised but fine. Good night.” I start off toward the dorm, and the guy lets me go.
“Thanks for stopping by, Chuck,” he says with a little scoff.
And I can't decide if I should be relieved he let me go so easily … or concerned that he thinks he's such a bad ass that I will most definitely keep my mouth shut.
Hmm.
Either way, it’s not good. Not good at all.
The Adamson All-Boys Academy Student Council is proving to be far more of a pain in my ass than I thought. First off, they moved my locker from the first floor of the main building into one of the back buildings where the seniors have all their classes. Essentially, it's the worst possible placement for a locker on the entire campus.
On Monday, I take that decree of theirs and storm up to the Student Council room, intending to tell those pieces of shit that they can shove their locker assignment up their ass.
I come up to a huge pair of double doors, and a secretary desk with a fourth year boy on a laptop. My brows go up.