
The only girl in a school for boys (falling for the ice school's ice king).
miracleobi329 · Ongoing · 181.9k Words
Introduction
She has to try her best to make sure nobody finds out her real identity, or she would be kicked out. But it's difficult to hide it, especially from her roommate, Scott Blackwood, an icy nineteen-year-old who she always managed to get on his bad side.
Chapter 1
THE NEW SCHOOL
~~Sophia’s POV~~
I'm a girl in a school for boys.
Sounds crazy, right?
But it's true.
And the best part?
Nobody knew, not the teachers, not the students, not even the dean of the school.
This is because I made them believe this.
It was the only way I could get into a good university after high school.
My family wasn't the ideal type; we were poor.
I grew up having to beg for food from neighbors because we couldn't afford dinner. Mother was the only one with a job; when she got laid off, Father would hit her until she gave him the money, and he would only use it to drink.
I hated seeing my mother with a black eye; it broke my heart, but I was just a kid, and there was nothing that I could do about it.
When things got worse, my mother began to speak up about Dad's drinking habit; she said it was hurting the family. Dad didn't take it well; the beatings got worse, and one day, she passed out and never woke up.
I hated my father after that.
I was just fourteen years old at the time, and Father pulled me away from private school and put me in a public one because Mother wasn't around to pay the fees. While I had gotten bullied at my old school for being poor, my new school bullied me for having a father who killed my mother.
I had just turned fifteen when it happened; another was the only one who ever cared for me, and I lost her.
Life got worse from there.
When I asked for food, he would hit me. I got accustomed to being neglected and hated by my father, who saw me as a burden that he wanted to get rid of.
A few months ago when I turned eighteen, my father started talking about me getting a job to sustain the family. He was pissed when I mentioned college. That was when I realized. He had only kept me around to work like a slave, just like Mother did.
I couldn't have it; I had a dream to go to a good school and study medicine, but I knew the fees would be too much to handle. The only way to do that was to get into a good high school that could afford to give me a scholarship.
Blairwood Academy.
Applications were open for scholarships, and I had to get in.
Only it was a school for boys.
I begged the dean of my old school to send a referral letter, and he had frowned upon it, but he couldn't ignore my pleadings.
“It's a school for boys, Sophia!” he shouted.
“It could get fired for letting you go!” he added.
But after much persuasion, he finally said yes. With my good grades, I was accepted into Blairwood Academy; all I had to do was keep up the good work and I'd get into a fully funded scholarship for university.
So I cut my blond hair short, just like guys. Thankfully, I didn't have any holes in my ear. How convenient? I think this is the first luck I have ever had in my entire life.
Now the tour guide was showing me around the school.
I had come the second week of resumption because of the delay in admission procedures.
The halls were filled with sweaty boys, some dressed in their uniforms, a white-sleeved shirt with a red jacket on top of them, and a red pair of pants to match.
Others dressed in football clothes while the rest had swim clothes on.
So this is what an all-boys school was like?
Kara was right; the boys were sweaty and dirty.
Kara was one of my oldest friends; her family had been so kind to me over the years, and I didn't think I could repay them if I wanted.
I pinched my nose with my fingers as Jacob Hollander, the tour guide, led me across the school.
Soon we stood stupidly before four buildings, all with significantly bad spacing between them.
“And now for the dorms,” Jacob said and flipped the page of the book he had in his hand. He looked at it as he spoke. “There are four dorm buildings in this school: North Hill House, East Hill House, West Hill House, and Southeast House, and each student has one roommate. It looks like you'll be in the south."
I nodded.
He looked up at me and hissed, a pitiful look on his face. “It looks like you'll be sharing a room with him.”
"Him?”
“Scott Blackwood,”
“Why did you say it like it's a bad thing?” I made my voice sound as deep as I could as I asked.
“Scott Blackwood, his family is one of the wealthiest founders Blairwood has; he's a loner, doesn't keep any friends, or talk to people.”
I clenched my backpack. “It's not that bad.”
“Everybody who has ever lived with him requested to leave a week later.” Jacob moved closer as if he were telling me a big secret that no one else could hear. “He makes people live the way he wants, and worse?” No one can say no because they are afraid to leave to offend his family.”
My heart dropped. I had just begun to think I was lucky, and now I get a roommate like this.
“Hey, transfer student, just stay out of his way, okay? If you want to survive this school, stay away from the ice wall,” he advised.
“Ice wall?”
“That is what we call him, because he pushes everyone away.”
“Come on.” He began to walk into one of the buildings, and I scurried behind.
“How can I avoid somebody who shares a bedroom with me?,” I asked nervously.
“That's your problem, transfer student,” he said.
I looked up at him. “Are you going to keep calling me that? Transfer student?”
"Sorry, Chase.” He smiled.
That's right, Chase Whitman; that was the male name I picked for myself. I wonder if it suited me.
“Here we are.” Jacob stopped at a door and handed me a key. “This is it.”
The dorm room was located at the very last end of the hall.
“Thank you, Jacob," I said with a smile on my face. Aside from having a roommate who was most likely going to make me hate it here, Jacob has been good; maybe we could be friends.
He tilted his head, tongue on the side. “Huh…,” he clicked his tongue.
My cheeks turned red. "W…why are you looking at me like that?" I stuttered.
I reached for my nose and pinched it.
"Hey!” I slapped it off.
“You are a softie, aren't you?” he laughed. “Your skin looks so off for a girl.”
I took a step back.
“I'm calling you softie from now on,” he joked.
Just then I heard footsteps. I looked to my left and saw students walking upstairs; the once-empty hall became full instantly. The students placed their key cards against the door, and it clicked open.
The place became noisy as students chatted loudly.
Three boys soon walked up the stairs; their uniforms seemed unkempt. It was tucked into their pants, and they had sweaty armpits.
They all had brown hair; the one in the middle, the tallest, chewed gum in his mouth.
“Those are the terrible three,” Jacob said.
I looked at him. “Terrible what?”
“They are bullies; they never attend class, and they taunt anybody they find a target.”
My blood ran cold as one of them looked at me. “Well…well…well…” "Who's the newbie?”
The remaining two followed his gaze, and it landed on me. They began to walk towards the newbie. The hall fell silent; students who had already walked into the dorm rooms came back out to see what was happening.
I swear I almost peed myself.
Their presence was too intimidating.
“Don't talk back to them,” Jacob whispered.
“What is your name?” The one in the middle asked.
“T…Chase,” I stuttered.
He smirked. "T…t…Chase.” He moved, and the students laughed.
My hands trembled slightly; this moment brought back all the hateful memories of being bullied over the years.
As he laughed, I noticed a tattoo of a rose on his neck. We were in high school.
Are students allowed to do that?
“I should get to my dorm room now,” I spoke calmly as I tried to reach for the door. The boy's hand wrapped around my backpack, and he dragged me back with so much force that I was thrust backward and hit the wall behind me with a loud thud.
I winced in pain as I felt a pang of pain in my head; it had hit the wall.
Before I could recover from the pain, he placed his foot against my chest and pinned me against the wall.
“Roy! He didn't do anything!”
“Shut up, Hollander!” Roy shouted, his voice a loud roar.
I recognized that look in his eyes; he enjoyed torturing people. I had seen that look so many times before.
His foot pressed tighter against my chest, and my lips parted. I couldn't breathe; his foot was too tight.
“Please…I can't…breathe,” I choked.
My words seemed to fuel his desire to hurt me, his foot pressed tighter.
Jacob wore a worried look on his face, but he couldn't do anything about my situation.
I looked to my side and saw a boy walking out in the same direction with headphones on; he had black wavy hair and grey eyes. He had a bag across his shoulder, and his hands slipped into his pocket.
He walked towards my dorm room and placed a card against it; the door opened with a click. He twisted the doorknob, but before he stepped in, he turned back to look at us. His gaze landed on me, cold and dangerous.
Roy smiled. "Hello, Blackwood,” he smirked.
Wait…this is Scott?
Scott said nothing; he didn't even ask like anything was going on. He looked away, walked into the dorm room, and shut the door behind himself.
Roy looked back at me; he took his foot off my chest and placed a hard slap on my face. My face stung.
“People don't look me in the eyes; you did." He landed another slap.
Tears clouded my eyes.
I had thought being bullied by those girls back in my old school was hell.
But being hit by a boy was way worse.
“Let's go, boys.” Roy turned to the remaining guys, and they began to walk off.
“What are you looking at?” the one behind hissed, and the students rushed into their dorms.
“I'm sorry,” Jacob apologized.
I kept my head down, not my shoulder; I unlocked the door and walked in.
I covered my face with my hands and wept. My whole body ached. Would my dreadful life continue here?
“What the hell are you doing in my dorm room?" "I heard a hoarse voice.
My head snapped up. "Huh?” I looked around until I saw Scott before the "He had taken off his jacket and was undoing his tie.
He probably hadn't been told about our situation.
His brows formed a knot. “Am I speaking Chinese? I asked you what you are doing here.” His tone was harsh.
One would think I had offended him in his past life.
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