HIDE (Boys Of Darlington Academy Book 1)

by D. V. EEDEN

  I look down at my phone, noticing that I have no signal to send out an SOS. “Fuck,” I sigh.

  I figure banging my fist on the door is no use seeing as no one will be around. Classes have finished and everyone is either outside in the courtyard or in their rooms, so no one would hear me. I brace myself deciding to see where this dark tunnel leads to.

  Tunnels must lead somewhere, right?

  I shine my phone torch ahead of me, the light revealing that I’m surrounded by old brick walls and an uneven brick path. My heart pounds against my chest, and I inhale a deep breath to calm my nerves and prevent an anxiety attack.

  We all know in horror movies this is how people die.

  Curiosity killed the cat.

  My head keeps imagining sounds and I turn, expecting to see something but there’s no one there. These tunnels must be haunted. This castle is so old, I wouldn’t be surprised if people died in it. As my torch lights up the walls, I instantly jump, nearly falling back. My mind is playing tricks on me, imagining there is something in here with me. I shine the torch back in front of me, noticing a scary gargoyle staring right back at me, and I let out a big breath of relief before carrying on through the eerie tunnel.

  I walk for what feels like miles and am unsure of how far away I am from the academy. Eventually I enter a larger space that has three other doors and my breath hitches in my throat.

  Why would someone put three doors at the end of a tunnel?

  I make my choice and head to the middle door. I turn the doorknob, but the door won’t budge. I try and push it open with my shoulder, but it makes no movement.

  When that doesn’t work, I try the exact same thing on the door to my left.

  Again, it doesn’t budge.

  I try my luck with the door on my right, and with one push, the door swings open easily. Someone must have come down here if the door in the academy was already open. So, they must have come through this way.

  I carry on with the journey, and after a few minutes, another door is at the end of this tunnel and natural light is seeping through the cracks. I push open the door, which is not as heavy as the others and end up in what looks like a basement.

  A basement filled with beer kegs.

  Where the fuck am I?

  Looking around the basement, I see an industrial style metal staircase which I climb slowly, trying not to make any noise. Pushing the metal door at the top open, I come out in a red colored hallway with dim yellow lighting. Sighing to myself and unsure of where to go, I take a right turn.

  “Hey there, you lost?” a friendly female voice startles me from behind.

  Taking a deep breath and preparing an excuse, I slowly turn around and put a fake smile on my face. “Hi, yes I am so sorry, I seem to have gotten lost trying to find the ladies room.” Hopefully, she buys the little white lie that I just formed.

  “Oh honey, that is fine. It took me a while to get used to round ‘ere.”

  The lady, who hasn’t formally introduced herself yet, puts her arm around my shoulders and guides me through to a large speakeasy. “You must be here for the job interview, I am Samantha,” she grabs my hand to give it a firm handshake, and all I can do is nod along to what she says.

  “Um yes, I am Adelaide,” I introduce myself, thinking that it would be helpful to get a job around here, especially during my free time. Samantha shows me around the extravagant club with the walls painted in a deep red and crystal wall mounted lights. There are several round tables covered in red and black tablecloths with a small candle in the center for decoration scattered around the room, all facing a large stage with red velvet curtains. Directly in front of the stage is a lowered level floor with red upholstered seating booths, which I am guessing may be VIP seating.

  “Okay, so as you can see this is the bar on the left where customers can sit and have a drink, but usually people sit at the tables and the waiters take drinks to them,” Samantha explains, but I am mesmerized by the bar itself.

  The shiny mahogany wood looks as though it is hand carved to create the intricate details of the old Tudor Rose. On the wall behind are glass shelves with every bottle of spirit you can find.

  “Have you got any bar or club experience?” Samantha brings me out of my daze.

  “Yes, I do. I used to work in a pub back home,” I say with a smile.

  “Great, well will you be able to do a trial shift this Saturday?”

  I instantly agree with her. I mean it can’t be that hard, going from working in a small pub in South Africa to what looks like a huge club here?

  We shake hands and Samantha escorts me to the main entrance. Thank god I can order an Uber from here to take me back to the academy. I don’t even know where or how far away I am.

  From the outside it looks welcoming, cheerful, and beautiful. Plastered walls and marble stones make up most of the building's outer structure. It's as alluring inside as it is on the outside. I stand in the parking lot, patiently waiting for my Uber to arrive, my attention focused on a large sign with lights around the edges.

  “Club Envy,” I read aloud. This must be what the club is called. I should have asked really, but I should technically know if I was supposed to go for an interview. I just don’t understand how a tunnel from the academy leads straight to Club Envy and who would use it. Or even yet, what the connection is between them both.

  After only waiting for five minutes, my Uber arrives and drives me back to the academy. Thankfully, by road it is only ten minutes away and I am surprised that I haven’t noticed the building before.

  When I arrive back at my dorm, I find myself alone as Blaire isn’t back yet- probably still in class. I decide to take this time alone to study on my bed with some music playing in the background, while I nibble on a few snacks that we have in our small fridge.

  After a few hours, I can’t handle any more information in my brain. Pulling out my phone, I realize I missed a call from my father. Rather than calling him back, I send him a quick text asking what he wants, as he never usually calls.

  Sighing to myself, I decide to go for a bubble bath to relax. My legs ache after that long walk through the tunnels. Slipping into the tub, my first thought is that nothing beats a hot bath. I lay there for a while, reading a book whilst my skin prunes in the water. I hear the door slam from the room, meaning Blaire must be back. I wash my body and get out of the bath, wrapping my body in a fluffy towel and leave the bathroom.

  “What the fuck?” I jump back, startled to see Blake sitting on Blaire’s bed.

  “What are you doing in here, and how did you get in?” I check myself over, making sure that I’m still holding the towel to my body.

  Blake lifts his head slightly from looking down at his phone and looks directly at me. His oceanic blue eyes rake over my body in repulsion as I stand in the bathroom doorway, my hair and skin still dripping wet.

  Flustered and breathless, I tighten my hold on the towel, embarrassed Blake caught me off guard, looking like this. The droplets of water fall to the floor as the silence takes over the room. Eventually he looks back down at his phone.

  “I have a key.”

  “Well, that doesn’t mean you can just come in here whenever,” I grit out. Storming over to the door, I open it and point out to the corridor. “Get out.”

  Blake sighs, standing up from Blaire’s bed, slowly walking up to me, putting his phone in his pocket. His facial expression doesn’t change. His nostrils flare as his protruding stare doesn’t avert my gaze., the ferocity very clear.

  “Please,” I plead.

  My gaze trails down to the ground, not brave enough to look him in the eye and Blake pins his right hand to wall next to my head, enclosing in on my proximity. He brings his mouth to my ear and barks out a wry laugh.

  “Never, ever talk to me like you did at the party again.”

  Quickly, I bring my eyes up to meet his and all I can see is the resentment and fire in his eyes.

  “Do you understand?” he grits out
.

  My body trembles, a shiver running down my spine and the only way for me to respond is by nodding my head in agreement.

  “Good, otherwise I will make sure what you get next is worse,” he threatens, storming away out the door and down the corridor.

  I slam the door once he’s gone and sink to the floor, my knees too weak to hold me up as my body trembles after the altercation. It must have been Blake that started the rumors in the first place, and all because I told him not to speak to Blaire in horrible way.

  What a prick.

  I get up and quickly dress into my pajamas, getting straight into bed. Looking at my phone, my father has texted me back requesting my attendance at a dinner on Friday night, which I agree to. My chest tightens at the fact of another social event, but I don’t really feel like arguing with my father now either.

  Sitting in English class at nine in the morning after a sleepless night is torture. I’m unable to hear the words coming from my teacher, as all I can hear are the whispers from the students. After my altercation with Blake in my room, I can’t get the image of his furious face out of my mind, nor the murderous glint in his eyes and how repulsed he was when he saw me in my towel.

  That guy has some serious anger issues.

  Once the bell rings, I gather my things in my satchel, waiting for the students to clear before I head to the dining hall.

  “Miss Adams, do you have a minute?” Headmaster Valentine requests as he appears in the doorway. Instantly I pick up my bag and follow him to his office.

  “Have I done something wrong?” I question as I take the seat across from him at his desk.

  He crosses his arms then sits back in his leather upholstered chair, his hard stare boring into me.

  I wait patiently for him to speak, rubbing my sweaty palms on my skirt. Why do I have a feeling this might be about the rumors? And that he might actually believe them?

  “Well, I must admit. Since you have started at this academy, a certain rumor has been brought to my attention.”

  Quickly, I try to defend myself. “Sir, I can—”

  Mr. Valentine holds up his right hand, interrupting my explanation. “Look, I understand you are new here and that is why I am treating this as a stupid rumor some other student created.” He places both hands on the desk in front of him and stares at me with intensity. “I will let this slide, but if I hear of something like this again, I will be forced to take action.”

  “Yes sir, I understand,” I say, standing up and leaving before he changes his mind.

  As I walk past the reception desk, I notice Blake leaning against the wall, a smug expression on his face and staring directly at me. Without trying to make any contact with the prick, I straighten my back and look directly ahead of me so that my eyes don’t meet his.

  However, when I try to walk past him, he grabs my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh as he squeezes tighter. “See Africa, this is just a taster of what I can do to you. Do not disrespect me again,” he hisses directly in my ear.

  My head turns, finally facing the monster next to me, and my wide eyes meet his. The blue of his iris disappears as his pupils dilate, turning them darker.

  “That was for kicking me out of my sister’s room. You need to learn your place around here, Africa.” He gives me a murderous smile, sending shivers down my spine as goosebumps break out all over my skin.

  Unsure of how to respond to him, I stand there blankly, trying not to let the tears pricking my eyes fall. Blake finally let’s go of my arm, undoubtedly leaving a bruise, and storms off in the opposite direction.

  After a long dreadful week, with all the whispering and snickering everywhere I go, I am thankful it’s finally Friday and I get to go to my father’s house this evening but I’m still in a bundle of nerves knowing I have to sit around a table with people I haven’t met yet. Considering this was only the first week in Darlington, it has surely been eventful. Nothing that these posh fucks say about me even breaks the seal of being hurt. I bet none of these twats know what losing a parent feels like. They were probably all raised by a nanny or something.

  I manage to get through the morning classes without any comments or incidents. I am hoping that the rumor has fizzled out and no one will be bothered by my lack of retaliation. As I don’t share a class with Blaire, we arrange to meet in the dining hall and have lunch. I take a seat at our normal table and wait for the girls. I notice the head table where the three royals sit – yes, I call them royals as they may as well be – has a group of people I haven’t seen before siting in their places, and I’m pretty sure that will cause some problems.

  Well speaking of the devil, the three royals that spawned from Satan have arrived and they all look displeased upon noticing their table is occupied. Unsurprisingly, the table is cleared within seconds and they didn’t even need to say a word.

  My nickname of the ‘royals’ fits. It’s like they are the kings of the school and even the teachers are afraid of them. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of the Queen’s nephew either and I have already had a run in with Blake.

  Waiting patiently and avoiding any contact with the royals, I scroll through my phone, taking interest in my social media again. I don’t particularly want to draw attention to myself, but I also feel like a loser sitting on my own, so I text Blaire telling her to hurry up.

  Thankfully after I text her, I see Blaire rushing through the canteen to join me.

  “I am so sorry I’m late, the class was running behind,” she says, trying to catch her breath.

  We order our food and suddenly a thought crosses my mind. I can’t help myself from being nosy. I raise my eyebrows, looking at Blaire. “So, weird question,” I ask. “You and Blake aren’t twins, are you?” I bite my lip, hoping that I’m not being too intrusive.

  “Oh no, we’re not,” she laughs, finding my question humorous. “We have the same dad but not the same mum. My dad cheated on my mum with Blake’s, so both our mothers were pregnant at the same time.”

  Nodding my head, my eyes widen as my eyebrows raise. That does explain a lot, especially as they are in the same year at school. I just assumed one of them was adopted or he got held back a year, which wouldn’t surprise me.

  Our food arrives and is served to us by the waiter. I haven’t eaten a thing today and my stomach is rumbling like crazy. While eating, I wonder if Blaire has any knowledge of her brother’s confrontation with me and how she would feel about it. I guess they aren’t that close. I mean they don’t really communicate with each other during the day.

  “Hey, what are your plans for this weekend while everyone goes home?” Blaire asks and my breathing quickens as I have no idea what to say. I can’t just tell her that I’m going to my father’s house or that I have a trial shift this Saturday at a Speakeasy.

  “I am staying here all weekend. I might venture out into town, but I think I will just study,” I shrug, hoping that I am convincing enough. Blaire stares at me as though she is trying to figure me out, so I give her a sly smile which works, and she gets started on her lunch.

  “What about you? Doing anything nice?” I ask her, figuring that I may as well try and suss her out.

  “Blake and I are off to our dad’s house. Won’t be anything special, but we are expected to attend some sort of gala.”

  Hmm, how the other half live I suppose. Always attending galas and posh parties. I can see why my mum wanted to leave this life behind. Seems as though so much is expected of you at such a young age.

  Chapter Six

  After what felt like a relatively normal day, classes are finally finished, and everyone is leaving to go home for the weekend. Luckily, Steve isn’t picking me up until eight this evening, so I have some time to pack my bag and possibly do some studying. I look at the time, noticing it’s only five, so I come to a decision to go down to the dance studio and get some practicing in for my routine.

  Walking the halls of the castle is like walking through history, but with ghosts. I
wouldn’t be surprised if the castle were haunted. I feel as though the painting’s eyes are moving and watching my every move like I’m in an episode of Scooby-Doo, or even better, Harry Potter. Now that would be cool. A shiver runs through me as I think about an actual ghost approaching me. I’m not sure I’d want that to happen.

  It takes ten minutes to get to the dance studio from my room, and that is with speed walking. I notice on my way up that the door leading through to the tunnels is shut. Maybe they locked it when they found it open while I was inside?

  Reaching the studio, I pull the door open and walk inside. The good thing about everyone going home is that I don’t just have the castle to myself, but also the dance studio. Not even a teacher in sight. Well, apart from the skeleton staff, but they don’t really do much. This week Miles and I didn’t have dance practice, but I thought I’d come up with a few ideas to run by him next week. Peeling off my leggings and hoodie, I’m left wearing my leotard. Usually I don’t wear it because I don’t like people seeing me with nothing on, and it really doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but it’s perfect to dance in. It gives me much more flexibility. I put on ‘Call out my name’ by The Weeknd after I have stretched out my limbs. I start a random routine, dancing for another three more songs, until someone starts clapping their hands.

  Immediately, I grind to a halt and gasp, because Royce Huntington is leaning in the doorway, and has gone undetected until now. That sly bastard.

  “Wow, you are an impressive dancer, I must say,” Royce says with a mischievous grin on his beautiful face.

  “Can I help you?” I ask him, raising my eyebrows, a little annoyed.

  Grabbing my gym towel, I wipe the sweat away from my face and chest just as Royce takes a few steps into the room. He looks around the studio, his face morphing into an appreciative smirk as he looks back down to me.