“Like I said,” he started, “I was just in the area and you know we share a class and I thought maybe he was doing something he shouldn’t.”
“That is none of your business,” I growled, dashing down the stairs. Luckily, I could run faster down than up. Unlucky,though, that he could keep up with me with those long legs and huge feet. You know what they say about big feet: small brain.
“What didhesay to you?” he persisted, irritating me even more.
“Nothing,” I barked sharply, and my voice carried along the stair shaft.
“Did he touch you?” he pushed some more, but his voice softened, and it made me stop dead to read his face.
“No,” I screwed my face up. “Why would he touch me? He’s my tutor.” What the hell was the matter with this guy?
“Ourtutor,” he corrected me.
“Whatever. Just stay away from me,” I demanded as we finally landed on the ground floor, and I could see the main doors. Damn, I didn’t get to stare at the view because this selfish prick wanted to make everything about him.
“Nope,” he snapped, surprising me with his infinite confidence. “Can’t do that. You’re the enemy.”
“That goes both ways, asshole,” I blurted in front of a small group of students who were heading inside Elm Building, and I noticed one of them was that blond girl friend of Mila’s. What’s her name? The one that made it clear she didn’t like me. I caught her eye and smiled because I needed to get this man away from me. "Hi..."
“Carrie,” she bit, but her attention was on Ezrah, and I could tell that she was in awe of him, like silly girls are of stupid jocks.
“Oh yes, like the Stephen King novel. Anyway, this is Ezrah; you two should get to know each other,” I suggested, then walked off toward the castle to catch a bus, relieved that I heard no heavy footsteps following.
When I looked behind me to see where he had gone, no one was there. Not only had he vanished, but Carrie and her friends had disappeared too. They might have gone into Elm Building,but I didn’t know where the jock went, and I didn’t want to find out.
Good. The last thing I needed was fake friends and nosy jocks in my face and in my life.
15
Once back in my room, I set up the trap using fishing nylonand fish hooks at an estimated eye level for men over six feet, hanging from the ceiling. Then I placed the mousetrap on top of my underwear in my top drawer, and with my father’s voice echoing in my mind, saying, “Don’t fall into your own trap.” So I drew a Nirvana smiley face on my hand with my ink pen to remind me that eye-plucking fish hooks were hanging on the other side of my door.
It was after midday by the time I left my room for the third time that day, and I paused again outside of Lev’s room and knew he wasn’t there this time. There was a distinct empty shell feeling in this building, and I took the opportunity to run up to the next level to search for any sign of life. Nothing. Empty. But it was the middle of the day, so most students would be somewhere having lunch with friends. Then I climbed the next flight of stairs to the third level to see if Mila was in her room.
My thighs ached a little from far too much stair climbing in one day, and I remembered that I had a tube of Deep Heat muscle balm in my suitcase somewhere. I swore I packed it, but I couldn’t remember unpacking it. Maybe it was caught up in other things, or maybe I unpacked my bags so quickly and shoved my clothes in the drawers that I hadn’t noticed the tube.
When I glanced up from rubbing my thigh, I caught someone watching me through the crack in an open door. It was only for a second before they slammed the door shut, but it felt as though they were inspecting me as I stood at the top of the stairs.
I paused at their door, tempted to knock and introduce myself. They might be recluses who struggled to make friends, so it might be helpful for me to approach them. I tapped on number 18. “Hi,” I said, in case they were shy. “I live in Morgana too.”
I let a few seconds go by before stepping away from number 18 and knocking on Mila’s door, next number 20. Her room was empty. No one home, but I could hear rustling in number 18 and knocked again as I passed, and they still didn’t answer.
That’s okay, they might be doing something private, but before going back downstairs, I stood at the window facing the mountains and saw the outline of a castle similar to Ashthorn, and wondered who lived there.
The squeak of a door opened behind me urged me to look back, only for the person inside number 18 to shut the door before I had the chance to say anything, let alone see them.
Turning my back, I hurried down the stairs, my footsteps echoing, sending a shiver down my spine. Once outside Morgana’s front, I felt the creepy sensation that someone was watching me, so I glanced up at the third floor. Sure enough, a figure was there. They moved away as soon as I saw them, but it chilled me. The thing was... if they were the ones who broke into my room, they might get a nasty shock if they did it again.
I arrived at the bus stop where I first met Mila, and five minutes later, an empty bus showed up. I smiled at the bored-looking driver in his fifties, guessing he was around that age. It had become interesting to me how staff manage to live out here, so far from their families.
“I bet you’ll look forward to all of the students arriving?” I asked him as I took a seat two rows behind.
Yes and no. I like the quiet, but they say a trainload is expected tomorrow,” he said as he shifted the bus into gear and it lumbered forward before picking up speed.
“Not today?” I questioned, slightly disappointed.
He shrugged his rounded shoulders, “Something to do with the police investigation.”
“Yeah, they’ve got the forensic scientists in there at the moment,” I felt as though I had inside knowledge, but he shrugged again as if that wasn’t surprising.
