Plan B

Chapter Two

Man.  A roommate….  Brookie sighed, relaxing the muscles in his shoulders as the water battered down.  Company was all very well – nice, even – but why did it have to be a third year?  He’d have to ask Mr Carson how long it would be before the dorms could be reshuffled.  The poor guy wouldn’t fit in on the top corridor.  In any case, his workload wasn't going to be as strenuous, so he'd just make a nuisance of himself.  And he looks so feminine it's hardly true.

Over the sound of the shower, he could vaguely hear a commotion in his bedroom.  Evidently, the indoor water-fight was still going on.  A year ago, Brookie would have joined in, but his schedule was so hectic that he was just too tired to do anything in the evenings unless it was obligatory or already a part of his regime.  Closing his eyes, he sat down with his back to the shower wall.  It's not like they're going to come in here….

Three water-pistol-wielding boys and two duos armed with water bombs had burst into the room, done a rapid tour of and drenched Fran's part of it before she finally dared to emerge from the cupboard again.  In the passage, doors were still slamming like there was no tomorrow and hysterical laughs and yelps resounded even louder.

How is this even allowed? Fran wondered as another trio, two with water pistols and the other trailing behind more reluctantly, though still amused, exploded through the door.  Fran instinctively hid her head under her pillow.

"Brookie!" yelled the tallest and lankiest of the boys, shooting a jet of water into the freaky blood-red right eye of a vampire version of Merton from Missed the Bucket.

It was enough.  Fran decided that she wasn’t going to leave the room until she had body armour.  The only trouble was that she’d have to leave the room to get the body armour in the first place.

I’d rather stay here under siege.  Clamping the pillow tighter around her head did nothing to block out the sound of the boys rampaging through the room and soaking everything.  There was a part of her that longed to join in, but she didn’t know if she dared.  Particularly without her own equipment.  And if they’re working in teams or ganging up on each other, where would I stand with that?  The newbie to get hazed?

“Guys,” came the muffled voice of one of them, who seemed to be standing near the door again.  “I don’t think he’s here.”

“He went out!” Fran yelled, momentarily poking her head out from under the pillow.

Seconds later, the pillow was ripped out of her hands and a blast of water jetted into her face.  Yep, the newbie to get hazed.

“Ooh!” exclaimed the lanky boy with excitement as the second guy with the water pistol, who looked like he could be Isaac, grabbed hold of Fran’s ankles and began to drag her off the bed.  “A newbie!  You’re the third year, right?”

Another spout of water shot into Fran’s ear.  She shrieked and flailed wildly.  “Let me go!  Ow!  Holy—”

The bathroom door banged open as Fran tumbled to the floor in the aisle of the room.  Brookie emerged, steam billowing around him and completely obscuring the bathroom from view.  The two boys armed with water pistols forgot all about Fran, who was still kicking on the floor, and levelled their weapons at Brookie instead.

“Hey, Brook!” said the lanky one cheerfully.

“Get lost,” Brookie told him flatly, closing one eye and screwing up his face as he towelled his hair.  He’d changed into a rugby shirt and jeans, and something about his current posture reminded Fran of a character she’d seen in a film at the beginning of summer.  She fell still, trying to work out what it was.  It bugged her no end when she couldn’t remember something.