Chapter 10
“The fuck you doing?” Sickle barked at me as he stepped into the living room, holding a keg.
“Jacking off,” I said as if it wasn’t obvious. The Boleyn girl got me hard, so I had to relieve myself. It’s nature. Every mammal does it.
“Fucking do that outside, bro,” he demanded, throwing a shoe at me and hitting me in the jaw, but it wasn’t enough to deter me.
My hand kept rubbing my cock under my sweatpants as my mind fixated on the Boleyn girl, who was rubbing one out.
Dirty girl. I wonder what her daddy would think of her doing that to his enemy’s son.
Lev wandered in behind him, took one look at me, and groaned, “Bro, get a fucking room.”
“Boleyn girl’s got class, bro,” I yelled back as he disappeared from view, probably headed to the kitchen. “And you’re just jealous of my size.”
“The fuck,” Lev’s voice echoed from wherever he was going as the pressure built, urging me to rub harder.
I was out on the field, minding my own business. Actually, I was there because her dorm was nearby, and I wanted to see her. But I saw the boys on the field and joined them for a joint. When I looked up at her window, she was standing there with her hand down her pants.
She did that for me, I was sure of it. She wanted her enemy to see her jerking off, lady style, to tempt me up there. It was all for me, I know. A dick tease to weaken a strong man.
So, I was a little surprised when she acted cold when I knocked on her door, but that’s the Boleyn chick’s vibe – a volatile mix of ice and battery acid.
The pressure increased as I recalled her sweet scent, locked in my memory, and I jerked into my hand at the thought of her beautiful face, twisted in anger at me. Damn, those lips around my cock would feel incredible right now. Maybe I could make that happen later.
I tucked myself away, then headed to the downstairs bathroom to wash the cum off my hands. I couldn’t get her out of my mind until I thought of my father in prison because of her daddy, and my mood shifted as it always did after I creamed.
“Ez,” Sickle shouted from somewhere.
“What?” I yelled back, stepping out of the downstairs bathroom and back into the corridor.
“Finished fucking around?” he came back out from the kitchen wearing that usual scowl, reminding me of my father.
“Yeah,” I snipped at him. “Done and dusted.”
“Then fuck off down in the cellar and grab us another keg, bro. Jeezus, make yourself useful,” he flicked his hand at me.
“Sure, no prob. Lev!” I bellowed because he was somewhere in the frat house, but I wasn’t sure where, and I couldn’t be bothered walking around looking for him.
“What?” Lev grunted from the kitchen.
“Help me get a keg, bro?” I leaned against the frame of the door and poked my head into the kitchen to find Lev biting into a giant sandwich with turkey and tomato, belching out the sides as he sank his teeth into it.
“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 in that way. 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.
“Nah, bro, we’ll walk down,” I argued.
“Fuck that,” he screwed up his face as he barged passed me, walking directly toward the front door with a one-track mind. “It’s too far. Way down the ridge.”
“The girls need an airing,” I was referring to the bikes, and he knew it as I followed him as we walked back outside under the security lights, then stepped off the balcony onto the grass, and then to the door. “Clear the dust.”
Lev suddenly stopped dead and turned his head towards the horizon. “Hear that?”
“What?” All I could hear were muffled sounds of our teammates inside the games room, their voices streaming from the window just above us.
“Bikes,” he replied, gazing out across the valley, searching for movement or lights. “Yorkies.”
“Nah, what? You heard them?” I pricked my ears but couldn’t hear a sound.
The York brothers had bikes too, and if we knew they were returning to Castlehill, we would’ve snuck into their garage and nicked them, or broken them down for parts.
But the faculty told us that their parents wanted to transfer them somewhere away from us, so we assumed they took the bikes home with them.
He wavered for a few beats, searching for something in the dark before grunting, “Maybe I was mistaken,” and opened the cellar door and switched the light on.
It was early in the evening and the party wasn’t in full swing yet, so we had time to work on the bikes, start ‘em up, rev 'em up a bit. But I was looking forward to getting skunk drunk to forget my woes and pay the Boleyn girl a visit in a mask. Fuck, it’ll be funny. I’ll take my phone to take a pic of her horrified face.
Climb up the side of Morgana. Tap on the window, or maybe I’ll smash it open.
Lev sat on his Honda and switched on the ignition, and it took a couple of tries before it started. Then he revved it up, checked the hum in the tone and the gas, and seemed pleased as exhaust smoke filled the dungeon, smelling like a dream.
Sickle and my bike are off-road motocross bikes because I enjoy heading into the mountains to hunt. Last year, before Castlehill closed for summer vacation, we shot a wild boar and roasted it on a spit to celebrate our victory against the Yorkies and surviving the year in such a remote location.
I’m betting this year will be more fun with the Boleyn girl and the return of the Yorkies to taunt and poke a stick at. The quiet, boring year we thought we were going to have was blown out of the water when we found out about Adina.
“Do you reckon the Yorkies came back to protect the Boleyn girl from us?” I thought aloud.
“I don’t know,” he replied gruffly with a scowl on his face, like he found the question annoying. “I can’t read their minds, and I have no interest in asking them.”
“Bro, she might not be working alone, is what I’m thinking,” I added as he assessed the Honda engine and wiped grease off with his finger, then wiped it on his black jeans.
“Fuck, bro, you are fucking obsessed,” he accused me.
“No, I’m not. I’m just preparing ourselves-”
Lev raised his hand at me, shut up, but his gaze was on the open door. “Someone just walked past, I think.”
“Probably one of the guys,” I waved it off, even though I was cagey about being locked in there again and kept staring at the open door, even when Lez looked away.
Then a sudden movement and everything happened too fucking fast, I yelled, “Lev!” just as a barrage of lit firecrackers was thrown into the cellar and the door shut behind them.
“The fuck,” Lev snarled as the entire space was alive with showers of blue and purple sparks and the loud popping and snapping.
We dodged the flying crackers as we ran up the stairs, threw the door open, and looked around in the dark for any sign of movement. After checking, I went inside to confront the boys, but their faces were blank. They had no idea what I was talking about, but they seemed curious to learn more.
“Yorks!” Lev shouted from outside, and I raced out to the front balcony to find Lev pointing down the valley, where I could see figures moving in the dark, just before the sound of motorbikes starting up.
“Leave it,” Sickle placed his older hand on my shoulder as I lurched forward to race after them. “Not now. Later.”
“They’re getting away,” Lev stressed, twitching for a bike race. That’s all he hungered for was to crank up that Triumph and run down the enemy.
“Nah,” Sickle shook his head. “We’ll pay them a visit in a few days.” He lit a joint, took a drag, and blew out the smoke before passing it to Lev to help calm him down. “Just as they start to relax, thinking we didn’t notice it was them, we’ll slip in at night and plunder their entire kingdom.”
I stepped out onto the balcony and looked out at the horizon as the last of the golden sunset disappeared behind the mountains, while my mind was preoccupied with scenarios and possible outcomes.
It wasn’t the Yorks I was thinking about, though; it was the Boleyn girl.
Maybe Lev was right. I’d become obsessed.
“Still up for a scare trick tonight?” I spoke quietly, so Sickle couldn’t hear because he might talk us out of it.
Lev cocked his eyebrows, indicating yes.