I bet she likes jocks. Yeah, they always do. Predictable.
Internally, I counted to three before banging hard on the door. I heard a little shriek in fright, before I fled down the stairs, feeling like a reckless little kid scaring the girl I had a crush on. Completely immature, but worth it.
Her room was at the back of the hall, so she wouldn’t see me escape, but as soon as the door closed behind me, I realized I had forgotten my keycard. Fuck. I kept running, though, and didn’t stop until I was in the gardens by the stone water feature of the minotaur pouring water out of a vessel. He had glowing red eyes to frighten unsuspecting passersby in the dark, but I found it hilarious.
Last school season, I spent the warmer months sitting out here at night listening to the screams of students while smoking pot. Every scream was like magic to my ears. Further along the garden path were more statues and art features that during the day seemed normal, but at night came alive.
Perhaps my great-grandfather and I had a similar sense of humor because if I were mega-wealthy with plenty of time on my hands, I’d build a house of horrors without telling anyone that they were inadvertently inside. To hear the screams would make it all worth it.
Yeah, I wonder if we’d get along if we met, or maybe we’re just too similar to be on friendly terms. I also hadn’t met his son, my grandfather, so no old family stories had been passed down to me. Everything I knew about Ashthorn was from what Iread in library books, written by historians and architects, which featured his taste in architecture and macabre art.
Even though I forgot my keycard and my phone, I did manage to bring the most important items —a joint and a lighter —in my jeans’ pockets. I lit the joint and lay back on the mowed lawn staring up at the starry night with a crescent moon indicating that it’s a week too early for the werewolves to come out.
Joke. There were no werewolves around here, only men who dress as werewolves to scare the students for fun. If it’s not fun, then there's no point.
As I took a strong drag on the joint, my body began to relax into the soft grass while the world above seemed to come alive. Moving lights, an airplane heading south, trickling water from the fountain, then a waft of sweet, sickly scent of roses from the nearby garden.
Not a fan of roses. I bought a chick a bouquet of red roses once, and they stunk up my car until I could offload them at her house. That chick was nuts in the end. More nuts than me, if that’s possible.
I heard the loose cackles of incoming students and waited for them to stumble across the minotaur with the red eyes on three, two…one.
Screams belt out into the night sky, and I laugh behind my hand, followed by a second bout of screams, probably scaring themselves. If they’re smart enough, they’ll remember this spot in the garden and know there is a towering monster in the dark.
I listened to the echoes of their excited voices as they faded away, heading back toward the streetlights. That’s right, girls. Go toward the lights.
Silence fell as I took a pull of my joint and fixed my eyes on the sky, snorting once when I thought about the screaming girls, before my laughter settled. Another sickly waft of rose scent passed by my nose and my stomach a little. It was so strong thatI could smell it under the green I was smoking. If it keeps up, I might have to move.
Blowing smoke into the air, I let myself become mesmerized by its twisting and writhing against the backdrop of bright stars. I was definitely getting stoned if the smoke was starting to look like a dancing woman, with curves.
Something solid smacked my leg, and I bolted upright to see a stone bouncing onto the grass. Then I saw the girl who threw it.
“Ah, the girl from number four,” I grinned, but she looked mad. I couldn’t think why.
“Why did you bang on my door like that?” she stood four feet away, hands clenched into fists, cap on her head that shaded her eyes, making her seem more sinister than she actually was.
I cleared my throat, “Did I scare you?”
“You intended to scare me, you drongo.” Her snarl was so cute. “Or else you wouldn’t have done it.”
“Drongo? C’mon, give me something to work on,” I chuckled, finding my mood uplifted by the very presence. It’s a pity she was my target because things could’ve been different. “Drongo is hardly an insult, Number Four. Isn’t a drongo a bird or something?”
“I’m going to ask admin to move me into another dorm,” she threatened in an assertive tone. “Where students actually act their age.”
“O-kay,” I went along with her little tantrum, knowing that the admin would not move her.
The plan was for her to be placed in Morgana, and for me to spend time freaking the shit out of her until she lost her fucking mind. I must admit that banging on her door was a major slip-up, and I need to do better next time.
She turned to walk away, then paused to look back. “If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was talk to me, you know, like an adult,” she stated flatly. “And…” She exhaled as if the nextpart was difficult to say, “Thank you for washing our plates. I was planning on doing that myself-”
“Sure, you were,” I cut in. Even though I couldn’t see the expression on her face under the shade created by the visor, I knew she was annoyed, but also intrigued.
“I was,” she asserted hotly. “Besides, we didn’t know anyone else was in our dorm.”
Jealousy stirred in my stomach, surprising me slightly. “We? There is another one like you?”
“No,” she replied, baffled by my question. “Another roommate. Here. In Morgana.” She seemed to be running out of words to join her sentences together.
“Oh, good, I don’t know if I could handle twins,” I hit back sarcastically, and she huffed and puffed in confusion. “One of you is enough.”
