I placed my foot on the first step of Morgana Hall, but froze to inspect the creepy faun pointing west, while staring down at those who walk underneath him.
“Ashthorn had a thing for mythical creatures,” Mila stated as she hauled her suitcase on wheels up the stone steps, leaving the cello at the bottom because she could manage both at once. “They’re hidden everywhere.”
“Ashthorn? Oh, yeah, the recluse who built the castle,” I answered as I followed her up the steps. “You’d think they’d at least modernize the place with, you know, a ramp or elevator to carry our heavy luggage up.”
“Unfortunately, our comfort comes second to the architecture protected by the Historic Buildings Association,” she panted as she finally made the top step, then looked back at me. “You know one of Ashthorn’s great, great grandsons attends Castle Hill?”
“I bet he’s nice,” that was sarcasm, but she didn’t pick up on it.
“Nah, he’s a jock…” then she backtracked to avoid offending me, “unless you think jocks are nice?”
My head fell back, and I laughed louder than I intended, and I abruptly stopped when my laughter echoed back at me. “I never met a jock I liked.”
She seemed relieved that I was on her side. “Lev,” she babbled breathlessly, trotting back down the steps to seize her cello, which was worth a bomb. “That’s his name. Lev Ashthorn.”
“I’ll remember to avoid him,” I admitted as I made it to the landing, then found myself glancing skyward again at the creepy faun while searching for my keycard in my jacket pocket. “How do you know so much about this hellhole when you haven’t been here before?”
“Ah,” she sighed tiredly, “my sister. She knows who the campus kingpins are, and while she’d gravitate toward them, what attracted her tended to repel me. We are very different. Anyway, I have a boyfriend... well, a secret boyfriend that my dad doesn’t know about because he wouldn’t approve.”
“Why?” I asked, swiping the card, and the door clicked open as I helped Mila squeeze her cello through the doorway.
“Because he comes from a poor family with no name. He’d never let me marry him, so we’d have to run away and get hitched.” There was a glimmer in her eye as she spoke of the clandestine affair and adventure they were planning to take together.
“Wow, he must really love you,” I said as I breathed in the scent of polished wood, and then groaned when we came to a set of wooden stairs and I couldn’t see an elevator.
“Yes, he does,” she grinned, blushing as I ignored the creeping jealousy in my stomach of a girl who had never fallen in love.
I’ve had only two boyfriends over the past three years, and I wasn’t particularly fond of either. I only dated them because they asked me, and I never once blushed or giggled over them like Mila did over her boyfriend. Perhaps I was dead inside.
We laughed as we dragged our luggage up the stairs, only to find a landing with another set of stairs. “What floor are you on?” I asked her while I grabbed the cello, climbed the stairs, and leaned it against the wall before running back down to get my luggage.
“Um, third floor,” she groaned.
“I’m on the first floor, so I’ll drop my bags off and then help you carry your cello up the stairs,” I explained, panting.
I was unfit and decided in that moment that to survive the next three years, I would have to strengthen my mind, body, and spirit. First step: find a gym. Second step: eat only healthy foods…Yeah, I don’t know if I could give up milk chocolate, burgers, and potato chips, but I’ll try. Or maybe, it could allocate one day per week where I eat anything I like, then back to the chicken salads the next day.
“Okay, deal,” Milo smiled as the muffled sound of my phone beeping in my bag, but I didn’t want to seem rude by dropping everything to check it. It was most likely my father, anyway.
I found my room, number four on the first floor at the back of the hall, opened the door, and dragged my luggage inside. A single bed with a desk pushed against the wall, a single window facing the park, a chest of drawers, a closet, and, to my relief, a small bathroom with a shower, toilet, and basin. The room was about a third of the size that I was used to at home, but as long as I had a locked door to feel secure, then I would be happy.
“Oh,” Mila said, disappointed, “Is this a self-contained suite? I expected them to be bigger.”
“It’s fine for me,” I assured her, then grabbed my phone to check the message while we were catching our breath. “I don’t need a lot of space.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, and I could almost hear the cogs turning behind her eyes, reminding her that we’re not in our cushy homes anymore.
When I looked at the screen of my phone, there was a message from my mom’s account. I hadn’t deleted her number from my phone because it was too soon, I wasn’t ready, and sometimes when I felt low, I’d read her messages dating back years.
Her phone disappeared after she died, and I assumed Dad had it somewhere, and I didn’t know whether anyone had disconnected her phone account. He asked his personal assistant to cancel or close her bank accounts, insurance, retail accounts, credit cards, etc, so maybe she her phone account. I knew Mom used this number only for close personal contacts such as Dad, me, family, and her close friends.
Obviously, it had to be a mistake, but I was still baffled and a little creeped out by it. The message said,'Hi,'but that was enough to send a shiver down my spine.
Mila muttered as I peered at it, and I missed what she said. “I’m sorry?”
“Are you okay?” Her big blue eyes flicked to the phone in my hand. “Bad news?”
“Oh, no,” I laughed, tossing the phone onto my bed next to a white pastry box. “Sorry, I’m a million miles away.” I didn’t want to turn the message into a big one, as it was most likely a wrong number.
