Although, going to school with so many boys makes me substantially less interested in having a harem of my own.
I tuck my stuff away and stand up, stretching my arms above my head. There are a few more boys in here now, studying quietly at the row of desks, or arranged in study groups around one of the tables. I ignore them, heading for the door, when a thought occurs to me.
I wonder if they have old yearbooks on hand? I'd love to know more about that girl I saw in the class photo. I was so mad at Dad this morning that I forgot to ask about her, but surely I can do my own research?
Mr. Dave shows me where to find the yearbooks, and while I wouldn't call him nice by any stretch of the imagination, he's at least professional. That is, until I tell him what I'm looking for.
“I'm interested in the graduating class from ten years ago,” I say, and I swear, something dark passes over his face.
“Why.” It's barely a question, more like an angry statement.
“Um, just because …” I start, because I really don't have to give him an explanation, now do I?
“Well, it's not here,” he says, pointing at the two yearbooks from the year before and the year after. “And you're not going to find it floating around the library.”
“Why not?” I ask as Mr. Dave turns and starts to move away with long, powerful strides. He ignores me, and I purse my lips, turning back to the shelf and looking through a few of the other yearbooks. There's nothing about a female student, not even in passing. Maybe they started her as a senior and she graduated or something?
But why was she the first and only female student?
Sighing, I put the other yearbooks back and lay the mystery to rest. For now.
Curiosity might've killed the cat, but I've got sharp claws; I'll be okay.
Or so I think.
Striding into the bathroom after midnight, I do not expect to find all five Student Council boys at the sinks, brushing their teeth. Ranger looks back at me with his toothbrush in his mouth, a blue towel draped over his head. His dark hair is wet and dripping into his face, drawing my attention to those sapphire eyes of his.
Crap.
My heart gives one, big, hard thump, and I feel this tingling sensation shoot through me. I'm crushing, hard. Not cool. I mean, physically crushing. He's a hottie, for sure, but his personality leaves a lot to be desired. My eyes scan across the other four boys, and I shiver when I find Church smiling at me. Part of me is convinced he's like, a psychopath or something. He acts all friendly and nice, but then this cold darkness just takes over him.
“You guys even coordinate brushing your teeth together? That's pathetic.” The words burst from my mouth before I can stop them, and I cringe. I don't mean to come across like a total jerk, but it's my only defense mechanism.
I want to turn and flee back to my room, but I also don't want them to think I'm scared of them either. Lifting my chin up, I stride into the bathroom and across to the last empty sink, putting my things down on the porcelain edge and pretending like I don't feel five sets of eyes staring in my direction.
“Are you always so unpleasant?” Church asks, still smiling at me. “Because it's quite off-putting.” He winks at me and goes back to brushing his teeth, standing shirtless in front of the mirror in nothing but a pair of cream-colored sweatpants with the Adamson Academy logo on the side. “If you were this unpleasant back in California, it's no wonder you thought to move across the country.”
“If you're this unpleasant all the damn time, it's no wonder you have to bully and intimidate people to have any friends around.” I squirt toothpaste onto my brush and stick it in my mouth, pretending like I don't notice the twins in their matching button-up pjs, or Spencer in gray boxer briefs. Yeah, like literally underwear. Underwear. He’s got quite the package.
Ack, Charlotte, gross, don’t look.
I mean, despite the fact that he's the bully here, I feel like a perv staring at his crotch. There's a huge bulge right in the front there, like way bigger than Cody's. Not that I've seen much of his, but the few times we've gotten a bit hot and heavy, I caught or felt a glimpse. And yeah, Spencer is definitely bigger.
Stop it, Chuck, I growl to myself, turning back to the mirror and brushing my teeth with a frenzied motion. It's the only outlet I have for my feelings right now. A hot flush colors my cheeks, and I do my best to pretend I don’t see my embarrassment mirrored back at me from my reflection.
“You sure run fast for someone who has medical issues,” Church says, still smiling. When he frowns at me, I shiver.
“You sure don't act like a Student Council president. More like a bully.” I spit and rinse my mouth, pulling out a pink headband to hold my hair back. And then … I realize they're all still watching me. I'm not stupid enough to actually think pink is tied to the female sex, but society still has outdated gender expectations. Surreptitiously, I stuff the headband back in the bag, and decide against washing my face.
“That wasn't three minutes,” the twins say in unison, flicking their toothbrushes in my direction.
“Dentists recommend you brush for at least three minutes,” Micah says (and please understand, it's always a guess when I name a twin) as he saunters over to stand on my right.
“You don't want to get cavities now, do you?” Tobias continues, taking up on my left. They reach for me, and I duck underneath their arms, stumbling out of the way. I'm so frenzied to get away from them—I really don't want a toothbrush shoved down my throat—that I leave my bag.
There are tampons in there. And a pantyliner.
If they open it, they'll know.
I dive forward to grab my bag, and they let me have it. Neither of them makes a move to grab me this time. They just stand there and watch me as I finish packing my stuff. But they're definitely standing too close. I swear, I can smell them, this bright fresh scent, like newly mowed grass and spring flowers, a little earthy with a hint of sweet.
“You're the weirdest boy we've ever met,” they add, perfectly in unison. How they do it, I have no idea. It's almost eerie.
“I'd rather be weird than boring,” I say, turning and raising my eyebrows as they both just stand there, blocking my way. “Well?” The twins part and let me through as Spencer glares at me, rubbing his lower back with his right hand while he brushes his teeth with his left. Just before I exit the bathroom, I pause. I'm not friends with these guys, not by any stretch of the imagination, but at least we're on speaking terms. Sort of. I don't know anyone else at this stupid academy. “Do you guys know anything about the graduating class from ten years ago?”
The tension in the room changes dramatically, from petty bullshit to cold fear.
“Why on earth would you want to know about that?” Church asks, turning around sharply. He levels an ice-cold look on me that turns his honey-amber eyes to stone. Ranger pulls the towel on his head over his face for a moment and then chucks it into the sink.
“I … just heard a rumor,” I start, and then Ranger is spinning on me, moving forward and grabbing me by the front of my shirt. He jerks me toward him and gets in my face, cold and scary and quiet in his rage.
“From who?” he asks, and his voice is so dark that I shiver from the sound of it.