Fiendish Play Read Online Free

couldn’t recall, but I knew of the characters in them.
    “Betty is fucking hot! Just like my girl here. I guess you can say I have a thing for blonds.”
    “Ahhh,” I said, the word coming out as a sound so he knew I got it. It also explained the yellow racing stripes on the black shiny exterior too. Nice touch.
    Marcus started the car and the engine purred to life. We started along a road for a few minutes near the woodland I was eyeing earlier before it swung into the small town and towards the campus. Our apartment wasn’t far from the college at all. I was taking mental notes as we drove. It seemed easy enough to remember for tomorrow.
    “So, you’ve been living in France huh?” Marcus yelled at me, cutting through the sound of the engine, breaking my train of thought.
    “Yep,” I yelled back.
    “Which means you know French, right?”
    I wasn’t quite sure where he was going with the line of questioning. Perhaps he was about to ask about my accent. Having been born in Australia, then living in New Zealand and then various places in the United Kingdom, English was certainly my first language, but when my family moved to France, I was surprised by how easily I picked up French as well. My mother told me it had something to do with how intelligent I was, like my real Dad. But now my voice was a very odd mix of an Australian and New Zealand English accent with a hint of something laced in French. I guess to an American it would have been a weird combination.
    “Yeah well, that is the language people communicate with over there.”
    “I just mean…you speak French .” Marcus began nodding his head up and down like I was supposed to understand his double meaning. Which I didn’t. He kept grinning at me like an idiot, eyebrows raised. Perhaps this was some weird American thing I was missing completely.
    “Man, I don’t know what you mean. Speak English.”
    “I just mean…Chicks over here are going to love a guy whose both an artist type and who speaks French. It’s going to be like catching fish with a net for you.”
    Ah . Finally I got what headspace he was in. I laughed at Marcus and at myself for not catching on a lot quicker.
    “I bet you killed it with the ladies there? Am I right?” he asked, eyebrows rising again, like he needed every sordid detail.
    “I only had one girlfriend in France. And besides, I’m more of a quality type of guy.”
    “That’s a shame, cause I’m more a quantity type of guy.” He held one of his hands up proudly, waiting for me to fist pump him my approval. Which I did, but only because I found it entertaining. The guy was a lot of fun and could make me laugh.
    He ended up parking his car near a pathway with street lights which was a block over from Greek Row. It lead to the campus library and a few buildings on the far end of the campus. He didn’t trust leaving his precious automobile near the drunken antics spilling out of those buildings. I suppose I could understand that reasoning. I had the same paranoia about my motorbike too and would have probably done the same thing.
    I followed Marcus down a dim pathway lined with trees and bushes and to a massive white pillared house with Greek letters painted about the double door entryway. The house was abuzz with music and people drinking, talking and dancing. It wasn’t all that different to the college parties I went to in France. Youth is youth in their quest for a good time, although there were definitely differences in the party atmosphere and how people conducted themselves. Where I would say partying in France was a slow and steady burn, here was something I would say was more full throttle. Although I still wasn’t convinced of the anarchy part yet, as my parents so eloquently put it.
    Marcus was welcomed with a bunch of high-fives, pats on the back and a whole stream of college girls who seemed to be sent to his side to try and convince him to pledge this particular fraternity. The majority of them circling