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Disguised As A Boy To Attend Belmont High School

Autor: BLUE_WAVY_
Adolescente
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Rule number one: "As a scholarship student, you should steer clear of the rich kids." Olive raised an eyebrow. "Why? Because of bullying?" she asked, playing dumb, though her mind flashed back to the scene she had witnessed earlier. "Exactly! You should avoid the school heir especially. Bullying's like a sport around here for guys like him. If you offend the wrong person, it won't end well. Trust me, if you want a peaceful year, just stay out of their way." _______ In a world where social hierarchy and family legacy reign supreme, Olivia Williams, a brilliant and determined student, disguises herself as a boy to attend the prestigious Belmont High School. She's won a coveted mathematics scholarship, but her triumph comes with a price: keeping her true identity hidden amidst the treacherous landscape of boarding school life. Enter George Lucas, the charismatic and arrogant heir to Belmont's legacy, who finds himself inexplicably drawn to "Olivia," the mysterious new student. As they engage in a fiery hate-to-love relationship, Olivia must navigate the complexities of her own feelings, the danger of discovery, and the class differences that threaten to tear them apart. As they delve deeper into their whirlwind romance, Olivia and George must confront the dark secrets of their own identities, the weight of family expectations, and the transformative power of love. But with great passion comes great risk: their relationship could upend George's family's reputation and legacy, forcing them to choose between love and loyalty. __________ Warning: Contains 18+ scenes at volume 2. And trust me, this isn't your regular type of highschool romance. Read it and you're sure going to love it.

Etiquetas
9 etiquetas
Chapter 1Belmont High School

"Olive! We've already discussed this matter. What else is on your mind?" A voice called out, pulling a young seventeen-year-old girl from her thoughts. Olive, with her curly brown hair tied tightly into a neat bun beneath a cap, glanced out the window. Hazel eyes stared back at her reflection, but the delicate features she'd grown up with were now concealed beneath a boyish façade.

Dressed in a loose, buttoned shirt and trousers, her slender body hidden beneath layers of fabric, she had mastered the art of blending in. The right posture, the way she moved, quick, direct, and deliberate ensured no one would second guess what they saw. She was no longer Olive; she was Arthur.

"You need to focus on your future now, darling. Not everyone gets a chance to attend a school like this. Don't waste it, especially because you're…you know," her father, a middle-aged man at the wheel of the bus, said gently, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The unspoken truth hovered in the air like an unwelcome guest, Olive wasn't just any girl; she was a girl pretending to be a boy.

"I know, Father. It's an all-boys school, but I have to think about what comes after," Olive or Arthur, rather, replied. Her voice was softer now, carefully modulated. She'd practiced for weeks to speak in a lower, steadier tone, just husky enough to pass as a boy's voice. The first few attempts had been disastrous, her higher pitch betraying her every time. But now, it had become second nature, the sound of it almost fooling her.

Her father glanced at her through the rearview mirror but said nothing more. Both Mr. and Mrs. Williams sighed in unison, their silence heavy with worry.

It hadn't been easy. The months leading up to this day had been filled with challenges, most of which Olive had taken on herself. She had to leave behind her entire identity to step into the shoes of 'Arthur' and survive in Belmont High without revealing her secret. The scholarship had seemed like a miracle, a reward for all the sacrifices she'd made, like dropping out of high school to help her younger brother through his primary education. But now, she wondered if it was a blessing or a curse.

"I thought the competition for the scholarship was just a joke," Olive muttered, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Who knew it was real…and that they'd choose me out of so many applicants?"

Her mother turned from the passenger seat, smiling softly. "It's heaven's way of rewarding you for your patience, darling. You gave up your schooling for your brother. Now, you've been chosen because you deserve it."

"I don't believe in that, Mom," Olive said with a frown. "Why me? Why, out of thousands of students, did they pick me? What kind of..what kind of idiot decides that? Fuck him!"

"Olive!" Mrs. Williams snapped, her face hardening. "Watch your language, young lady!"

Olive swallowed hard, immediately quieting down. Her mother detested cursing, and she knew she'd already crossed a line. "I'm sorry, Mom," she muttered, lowering her gaze.

The tension in the air dissolved as they reached the towering gates of Belmont High. "Here we are," Mr. Williams announced, relief evident in his voice.

Olive's gaze swept over the sprawling grounds. The school's gleaming white marble façade sparkled under the sun, the towering pillars and grand arches resembling some kind of modern-day fortress. Belmont High wasn't just a school, it was a symbol of wealth, status, and tradition. Its manicured gardens, with perfect hedges and vibrant flowers, only added to the allure.

"Wow," Olive whispered, eyes wide. "It's…like something out of a dream."

Their awe was quickly interrupted by the sharp voice of a bald security guard dressed in blue. "Stop!"

Mr. Williams pulled the bus to a halt. The guard approached, his face scrunched in disdain as he eyed the old walnut delivery bus with suspicion.

"Lost, are we? Don't think the school ordered any walnuts," the guard sneered.

"No, sir. My son received a scholarship here, and we're here to meet the principal," Mr. Williams explained, ignoring the man's rude tone.

The guard's expression didn't soften. "This bus isn't coming onto the grounds. Only your son can enter. You and your wife can head back."

Olive clenched her fists, anger bubbling inside her, but she kept quiet. She couldn't afford to draw attention, not on her first day. She needed to be invisible.

"But surely we can meet the principal before leaving?" Mrs. Williams asked, her voice tight with concern. "It's our son's first day."

"No need for that," a second guard interjected, walking over. His tone was calmer than his colleague's, but still firm. "This is a boarding school. Only the admitted student enters. Parents can visit during scheduled hours."

Mrs. Williams sighed and turned to her daughter, her 'son.' "Arthur, be a good boy. This is the beginning of a great journey, and you need to make the best of it."

"Of course, Mother," Olive 'Arthur' said, her voice steady and confident. She had to become this role now, without hesitation. "I'll call you as soon as I'm settled in."

Her father, with tears brimming in his eyes, handed her the luggage. "Take care of yourself, Arthur," he whispered.

"I will," she reassured him, though inside, her heart was pounding. With every step she took toward the gates, the weight of her disguise felt heavier.

The guards examined her scholarship letter, barely glancing at the boy standing before them. To them, she was just another student, a young man entering a prestigious world. She squared her shoulders, adopting the same easy swagger she had seen in her brother and practiced for months.

Her walk was now more deliberate, a slight hunch to mask her naturally delicate frame. Every movement had been rehearsed. Even her breathing had been adjusted, deeper and more restrained, giving the illusion of a masculine presence.

Olive watched as her father's bus disappeared into the distance. Her lips trembled, but she forced herself to take a deep breath. This was it, there was no turning back now.

"I'm all alone," she whispered, blinking back the tears. She wiped them away quickly, inhaling deeply to calm her nerves. As she stepped through the grand entrance of Belmont High, her secret tucked away inside her, she knew that every word, every gesture would have to be perfect from this moment on.

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