“I’m eating,” he shrugged his shoulders like it should be obvious.
“Don’t you have food at Morgana?” I teased him, knowing that he hated being there and would rather live with us, but he drew a short straw because he wasn’t a Warwick. We needed someone on the floor in Morgana to watch over the Boleyn girl, and he was the best pick. Besides, he was slightly sadistic, almost as bad as Sickle, so he had plenty of ideas to scare my little clit rubbing chick.
“Ez is afraid of the dark,” Sickle mocked.
“No, I’m not,” I groaned, then resigned to going down there alone. I wasn’t afraid of the dark, I just hated going down into the cellar because it made weird noises and…one time last year, the boys locked me inside and I had to kick the door down, and I hadn’t been down there since.
That’s all I’m saying about that. I wasn’t scared, though; I just needed to get out to take a piss.
I walked out onto the front balcony and gazed out across the valley, dotted with the lights of the dorms and houses where students and university staff were residing. The entire campus stretched for miles, but it was difficult to gauge its true size because so many buildings were hidden in the forests or on the sides of the mountains.
Our frat house was a mini version of the main Ashthorn Castle on the outside, but on the inside, it was modern with lower ceilings, smaller, cozier rooms. Apparently, this castle was meant to be a folly or a spot for hunters to overlook the valley for deer and pigs.
The original name of our folly castle was Ludworth Castle, still engraved on the plaque by the front door, but it was renamed The Lud by frat boys years ago. The Lud had a reputation for wild, drug-fueled parties, and since there wasn't much else to do around here, we couldn’t just head into town to hit the local clubs. Yeah, each term at Castlehill felt like the longest year of my fucking life. The only times we had a chance to escape were during away games and Christmas, and summer vacation.
I was definitely counting down to summer vacation, even though we just arrived here.
The cellar door is on the side of the castle, and I had to walk through the grass to get to it. It was always locked because it stored liquor brought in on the train, since it stayed cool inside. After we finished one load, we’d order more to arrive on the next train. It was fun and helped pass the time between tests and assignments.
The door was slightly open, and I kicked it before feeling around for the light switch on the wall. Then I headed down the squeaky stairs. Damn, I hated it down here. The floor was flattened dirt, and the walls were made of old stone from the castle. The crazy kook, Ashthorn, designed the cellar to look like a dungeon, and he succeeded.
Our motorbikes were stored down there, and we need to check them over and refill with gas since they’ve been sitting here doing nothing since before summer break.
In the dark corner were about ten kegs, and sitting on them were masks that we bought last season to break into the Yorkies’frat house. It looks like we’ll be doing that again, this year, just for fun and just to see them shit their pants.
I grabbed two of the masks and a keg and made my way back up the stairs as I had an idea of what we could do tonight. Scare the Boleyn girl.
Back inside, I chucked the Jason mask at Lev, who was still munching on his sandwich, or maybe it was a second one.
“Bro, I’ve got an idea for later on tonight,” I told him.
“Scare the girl?” he guessed.
“You read my fucking mind,” I laughed, then I remembered when I saw her earlier. “She’s got a knife, though, so we’ll scare her from a distance.”
“Really?” he seemed surprised and fell distant. “Did you see it earlier?”
“Yeah, she flashed it at me. I said I’d rather see your tits, but she showed her knife instead, like it was a game of whose got the biggest knife. Naturally, I would win,” I declared honestly, pointing to my recently emptied cock. But it won’t be long before I need to offload again. If I offloaded in her, I wonder if she’d mind.
“Fuck, you talk a lot of shit,” he murmured under a mouthful of sandwich. “Anyway, you said we’re supposed to refrain from touching her inthatway. Make up your mind, bro, you’re like that contrary queen we learnt in history class.”
“Mary,” Sickle blurted, poking his head into the kitchen. “Contrary, Mary.”
“What?” I cracked up laughing because it sounded so old school. “Contrary Mary? The Fuck?”
“Mary Queen of Scots, I think,” Sickle explained, opening the fridge, then noticing the masks. “What are you doing with those?”
“To see about a girl,” I replied honestly, not mentioning which girl because it could be one of many that would be fun to scare.The girls in the sorority houses down on Landers Hill were always the screamiest, but most of them haven’t turned up yet.
Sickle grunted, cracked open a can of beer, took a swig, burped, immediately lost interest in the convo, and sauntered away.
As soon as Nicolae left, “Have you already touched her?” I accused Lev, pointing my finger at his face.
“Bro, you already asked me that. And we’ve only been here five fucking seconds. I have no time to touch her,” he ranted, spitting out food.
“Alright. Chill. Say it. Don’t spray it.”
“You wanna get the bikes out?” he asked, showing more enthusiasm for the bikes than for scaring the Boleyn girl. There was nothing that lit Lev’s face up more than grease and grunting engines.
