“Micah.” One of them says, extending a hand.
“Tobias.” The other one reaches out to shake with me, but I’m not about to accept an invitation from either. Some stupid, silly part of me thinks that if I take their hands, they’ll know, and I’ll have to get used to every guy in the school staring at me. I’ll be the odd one out by default, the outcast, the pariah.
Snatching my bag, I launch up to my feet, hop over the bench and take off.
The twins are right behind me.
“Are you okay?” they ask, still in unison. It’s seriously creepy. They’re both green-eyed, red-haired, and far too interested in me already. Back in California, I was loud and outgoing. Maybe I wasn’t the most popular girl in school, but Monica was. By proxy, I had plenty of attention, invites to parties, casual friends and acquaintances to hang out with. Here, I need to blend into the background, keep my head down, and ride out this nightmare until I can convince Mom to let me move in with her.
I pick up my walking speed, turn the corner, and then come to a grinding halt as the twins slide in front of me, blocking my path. They both look at me like I’ve sprouted tentacles or something. I look at them like they’re beyond gorgeous, but totally impossible. We will never be friends, despite their handsome faces.
“Does the new kid speak English?” they ask, exchanging a look. Their attention swings back to me, and I can feel that scrutiny like a laser burning into my skin. “Buenos dias. Cómo te llamas?”
Great. Now they’re asking me my name in Spanish.
“Excuse me,” I blurt, using my shoulder to push between them. They’re both tall, and clearly very fit beneath their uniforms. As I squeeze by them and take off down the hall, I can feel that they’re still watching me. Fantastic. I’ve barely made it past breakfast, and I’ve managed to fall on the radar of some weird, but stupidly attractive twins.
Junior year just got interesting.
As usual, classes are beyond boring, and by sitting in the back, I manage to squeak past the rest of the day without being overly examined by anyone else. I haven’t seen the twins since math, and even then, they had so many friends creating a shield around them that I was able to hide in the corner.
After school, I make a beeline for my new dorm room, shove my way into the building and bump into a broad chest. Taking a few steps back, I look up and blink the surprise from my face. Even though I practically ran across the lawns, my backpack bobbing, somebody’s made it here before me.
And not just anybody: Church Montague, the student body president.
I know who he is because his stupid, smiling face is on all the brochures. He’s some sort of, like, golden child or something.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Carson,” he says, putting his hands on his hips and looking me over.
Glancing up from under a flop of curly blonde hair, I study him. Church is blond, too, and tall. Crazy tall. He’s got a handsome, smiling face, and a chipper demeanor that immediately puts me on edge. He’s going to want to be friends, and I’m absolutely not interested in making friends with anyone at this school.
There’s a long, awkward pause as Church waits for me to respond.
When he bends down and peers into my face, I swing my backpack around between us and clutch it like a shield.
“Shy, huh?” he queries, but I’m still not interested in having a conversation with him. What if I start talking and he immediately knows what I’m hiding? Then what? I do not want to be a spectacle here. I don’t want to be anything here, but an easily forgettable shadow in the corner. Then when I get home to California, everything will go back to normal and I can forget all about this. “You are Charlie Carson, the new headmaster’s son, correct?”
A brisk nod from me, and Church straightens back up. I sigh with relief as he wrinkles his brows and cocks his head at me. Back home, had I met this guy and not already been in a relationship, I would’ve swooned. As things stand right now, I just want him to go away, so I can get to my room.
My room in the boys’ dormitory, I think with a prickle of terror. Even Dad was a bit iffy about it. He insisted I stay with him in the headmaster’s house, but the board rejected the idea. They’ve already made an exception about giving me a roommate—for obvious reasons—so I at least have my own space. Promises to finish construction on the half-completed future girls’ dormitory next door have been made, but I don’t plan to stick around long enough to live there.
“Well,” Church continues as the door opens behind me, and boys pour in. The color drains from my face as they surround me in a sea, and the twins appear on either side of him. “We thought you might want a tour of the academy.”
“No.” It’s the only word I can force past my suddenly tight throat, and then I’m rushing forward and skirting around them. This time, I’m stopped by a firm hand on my shoulder, flicking my eyes up to find a guy with the prettiest sapphire blue eyes and dark, razored black hair. He’s glaring at me right now, his full mouth downturned sharply.
“Don’t you have manners? We’re trying to be nice to you.” The guy that’s looking at me right now is terrifying. His dark hair falls forward and covers half of his face, and he’s got this look about him, like he’s not afraid to throw down. Oh my god, Cody would hate you, I think as our eyes meet.
“I … I don't feel well.” I tear away from him, but his grip is like steel. At the last second, he lets go of me with a scowl. Fine, whatever, I don't care if he likes me or not. I'm not here to make people like me. I'm only here because my dad got a good job offer and my mom is … just not herself right now, you know?
I get the feeling though, that if the dark-haired guy had wanted to hold onto me and keep me there, he could have.
My breath is coming in panting gasps by the time I get to the top of the staircase, and I fumble with my keys, letting myself into my new room and slamming the door behind me.
I don't come out until breakfast the next day.
The dorm bathrooms at Adamson All-Boys Academy are communal, but they do have private rooms for the toilets as well as changing rooms connected to the showers. It's mostly just that the sink/counter is open to everyone.
Dad was not okay with me using the bathroom and insisted I come to the headmaster's house to shower, but I'm not about to trudge nearly a mile across campus just to soak myself in some steamy water.
Sorry, but no.
So I wait for everyone to leave for breakfast, knowing I'm not going to get a chance to eat before class, and take my gym bag with my uniform in it to the bathroom down the hall. There's a guy with silver-blond hair brushing his teeth at the sink, but I'm swimming in a baggy hoodie and sweats. Even without the uniform, I'm pretty sure I'm passable.
Besides, nobody at the academy is looking for a girl. If they're not expecting it, they won't see it, no matter how obvious it is.
Well, I mean, so long as they don't get a look at my breasts.
Slinking past the lone applicant in the bathroom, I head for one of the shower stalls, take the key from the hook and unlock it before letting myself into a little antechamber, sort of like a dressing room at a department store.
“Rich assholes,” I grumble as I look around.