Spencer hits the brakes, and the Porsche jerks to a stop. My knuckles are white from clutching the handle of his sports car for the whole hour drive from campus to the countryside for the Gentlemen's Weekend.
"Here we are," Spencer beams happily. I relax my fingers, and they ache uncomfortably as I take in a breath. It's great how I'm getting to know more about Spencer: he likes to drive ninety miles per hour in the countryside. The car doesn't mind as the engine roars while the trees fly by, but I do mind. I want to die old, not when I'm twenty.
Spencer turns the engine off and gets out. Only now do I look at where the hell we are. I know we passed the gates of some sort of an estate a few miles back, and now we seem to have reached the centre of it. I step out of the car, throwing my backpack on my shoulder and look up. Oh. Okay.
I am standing in front of a glorious, white mansion. It's got three floors but is smaller than the Sigma house, at least at first glance. A man hurries down the steps as Spencer stops by my side, marvelling at the sight as well.
"Good to be back here," he muses.
"Good afternoon, sirs!" the man approaching us says, and Spencer automatically throws him the keys to the Porsche. "Thank you, sir," the man says with a bow. A valet.
I stare in astonishment as the guy walks to the car and gets in. Spencer seems to believe his car is in good hands as he already walks towards the mansion. I follow, trying to adjust to yet another new environment.
There's another man at the top of the stairs, opening the door for us with a, "Good afternoon, sirs!"
Oh. Did I mention these servants have posh English accents?
We walk into an expensively furnished entrance hall. Unlike the Sigma house, which feels bare but strong with massive structures, this house has been decorated with an eye for detail. Flower-patterned walls, curtains, vases, light wood, white and beige and ivory and azure... okay, wow. I've spent too much time with Spencer, obviously.
Patrick and Jon seem to be in charge of things like they always are as they are in the entrance hall, pointing Sigmas left and right with clipboards to guide them.
"Spencer and Ryan!" Patrick greets us, and I immediately note that he isn't putting on an accent. Thank god for that. "Well, that is almost everyone here then!" he smiles, ticking something from his list.
Jon is obviously in charge of rooming arrangements here too as he looks at his own clipboard and says, "Yes, well... Ryan and Spencer. Sharing a room, next to mine and Gabe's, funnily enough. Top floor, your servant here will show you." He nods towards a tall, thin servant smiling at us charmingly.
"Thanks, bro," Spencer grins happily.
"Any time," Jon replies. "You've got some time to settle in, but we kick off at six so don't be late."
Jon's smile is always much more genuine with Spencer than it is with me. Hell, it's more genuine with anyone who isn't me, with Sisky even. I don't really understand why because we're both on the same side here, being the little bitches of Pete Wentz, that is.
"Hey, um, has Brendon arrived yet?" I ask, and both Patrick and Jon nod.
"You guys on better terms now?" Patrick asks me.
You could say so.
"Yeah, we are. It's a lot better now. What room is he in?"
Jon checks his clipboard again. "He's first floor, East Wing, sharing with Chiz." I keep staring, and Jon says, "There are no room numbers."
"Oh. Right... I'll see him soon enough."
Our servant steps forward and says, "Guy Ripley at your service, sir! I do hope you find our little mansion to your liking! Allow me to carry that for you, sir."
