The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,27
I say, because what else am I supposed to do? The person just stands there in the darkness and stares at me. It's seriously creepy. “Can I help you?” I repeat, and they take another step toward me.
Okay, now I'm starting to get creeped out.
“Dude, don't just stand there, it's freaking me out.” I stand up from the couch, fully prepared to grab one of the giant pillar candles and chuck it in this weirdo's face.
He takes another step closer, and my heart begins to thunder in my chest. Cold chills take over me, and my hands begin to shake. I've never been in a situation like this before, but if I have to, I'll die fighting.
A knock on the window behind me makes me scream, and I spin around to find the twins outside the glass, frowning at me. They're both two halves of the same costume: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And they both look hot as hell in old-fashioned jackets and top hats.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see that the figure's disappeared, so I take advantage of the moment to unlock the door and let them both in.
“You're not supposed to lock the door,” Mr. Hyde says, circling around me and tapping his cane on the hardwood floor.
“It's against the student code of conduct,” Dr. Jekyll adds, his eyes ringed in thick linger as he pauses beside me and leans down with his hands on his hips. “What are you doing in here all alone anyway?”
“I …” I pause again and glance back at the doorway. “There was a man in here just a second ago. He was beyond creepy.” The twins exchange a look and then turn their attentions back to me, each one with a single brow raised. “He was right freaking there!” I point, and Mr. Hyde walks over to the kitchen to look, pulling out his phone and using the flashlight to glance around.
“There are boot prints,” he says, sounding surprised as he glances back at his brother. He—let's pretend this one's Micah—turns his attention to me. “But so what?”
“People are allowed to have boot prints,” Tobias drawls, sauntering past me. But they don't get it. Why should I expect them to? A frown creases my lips as they take over my couch and start eating my food.
“Excuse me,” I snap, forgetting briefly about the creepy guy in the doorway. It was probably just some sulking senior too high to reply to me. At least, I'll feel better if I just keep telling myself that. “I was sitting there.”
“So?” they ask together, turning to look at me with their brows raised again.
“So, that's my stuff, and my food. Get out of here.”
The twins exchange a look, and then turn back to me.
“Make us.” They stick their hands in my popcorn bowl as the power flickers back on. I leap forward and grab the remote before they can get their grubby twin hands on it, and end up being grabbed by both boys. “Give it up,” they say, but I'm clinging to the damn thing like it's a life raft. They got to go to some party while I was stuck here, and I'll be damned if I don't get to finish that werewolf movie.
The popcorn bowl ends up getting knocked onto the floor, and the bastards start to tickle me. I howl with laughter, even though I'm trying my hardest not to.
That's when it hits me.
They're touching me; they'll know.
I jerk back suddenly and end up throwing my body off the couch and into the coffee table, hitting my head so hard that I see stars. The twins are up and hauling me to my feet, laying me down on the cushions before the pain even hits me.
When I touch my hand to my forehead, there's blood.
“Rag,” one of the boys says to the other. I have no idea who's who, especially not with my head spinning like crazy. Dr. Jekyll twin rushes off and reappears with a warm rag and a first aid kit.
“I don't need your help,” I tell them, slapping their hands away. Dr. Jekyll just grabs my wrists and holds me still while Mr. Hyde dabs at my face with the washrag and then uses some numbing antiseptic gel before closing the wound with a butterfly bandage.
I'm surprised they're being so … nice to me.
Once they're done, they hand over the remote and then retreat to the big comfy chairs on either side of the coffee table. I'm beyond