The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,53

in a bikini, and not trying to hide a secret at the same time. Plus, I'm out of reach of those Student Council assholes.

My fingers curl against my chest, and I exhale. I should be on top of the world right now, standing in the California sun with the scent of sea salt, taffy, and fresh corn dogs perfuming the air. But … I feel like a fish out of water. Worse. I feel like a fish who's just been dropped back in a pond she used to know, but can no longer navigate.

Ugh.

I shake my head and force a smile, feigning excitement for Monica's swimsuit win, and then trying my best to relax in the curve of Cody's arm as we all sit around in the boardwalk arcade and eat chili fries and burgers.

Eventually, as we drive back to Monica's place and she lets us into the dark house, I realize that there is no surprise party waiting. Monica and Cody, my closest friends, the people who've known me since we were five years old … have forgotten my birthday.

“Something wrong, cutie?” Cody asks as we pause inside the foyer, and I feel my heart stutter and skip a few beats. This cold feeling takes over me, and I suddenly just wish I were back at Adamson Academy, having maple syrup poured in my hair. That'd be better than this. Anything would be better than this, feeling like an outsider in the one place I thought I belonged.

Now, I don't belong in Connecticut … and I don't belong in California either.

“It's …” I start, and Monica cocks one, perfect curved brow at me. A sour taste coats my tongue, and I decide it's just not worth it to say anything. What's the point. Exhaling, I force myself to breathe past the disappointment, and put a smile on my face. “Cody.” I turn to my boyfriend, the guy I had a childhood crush on for years, and all I feel is sad. “Can I borrow your Jeep?”

“My Jeep?” he repeats, glancing over at Monica. They look at each other like some secret, silent communication is going on between them. Cody glances back at me with his pale blue eyes, and throws out a grin that he probably thinks is panty-dropping. It's more like wedgie-inducing. It just makes me cringe. “We were thinking of watching a movie, and then hopping in the pool for a little midnight swim. You don't want to join us?”

Join us? I think, looking between the two of them and not liking what I'm sensing, what I've been sensing since just a few weeks after Dad and I moved.

“I just need to … go visit my aunt,” I lie, feeling this sweaty, itchy sensation in my palms. All I want to do is get the hell out of there.

“Will you be back?” Cody asks, passing over his keys, but I just shrug. Will I? I have no idea.

I turn and take off for the front door, heading down the steps, and hopping into Cody's shitty old red Jeep Wrangler. The engine kicks back at me a few times before it finally turns over, and I peel down the gravel drive with rocks flying.

Santa Cruz isn't exactly a big city, so there's not a lot open late, but I head over to the boardwalk. They're having some special late-night competition at the arcade, so it's open several hours later than usual. Once I park the car and weave through the crowds, I buy myself a corn dog and sit on one of the horses at the carousel. It's closed for maintenance, but the lights are still on. Two horses over, there's a couple making out on one of the benches. Not long after, they get up and run off holding hands and laughing, like they’re off for somewhere more private.

“Lucky bastards,” I murmur, my mind briefly drifting back to Spencer. The way he kisses is … criminal. His mouth is hot, and his hands … I wonder what they'd fall like if they slid up my waist to cup my breasts. “Don't think about Spencer,” I whisper, taking a huge bite of my corn dog and closing my eyes. As soon as my lashes flutter closed, I try to imagine one of my hot and heavy moments with Cody. Instead, all I can see is the clumsy way he groped me, and how he smells like suntan oil all the time. “Fuck.” My eyes open back up, and