Page 466 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 8
“And miss the party of the year?” I asked. “No way!”
“But…”
“I’ll watch TV with you every night this week if you come,” I said. I wasn’t able to leave her side until I figured out the true meaning of Rule #3 anyway, so I was gonna be hanging with her every night.
“Hmm…deal. But only if I can wear my comfy sneakers!”
I looked down at her feet. Heels would have looked better, but her sneakers weren’t the worst. They were somewhere in the middle. Not worthy of a boob honking, but also not bad enoughto invoke Single Girl Rule #17: Friends don’t let friends wear ugly outfits. #RealTalk. “Deal.” We shook on it and then Ghostie picked us up and drove us to the Gryphon Club.
The frat houses at the University of New Castle were charming in their own way, but they were pretty much just old colonial Victorian houses with a few Greek letters thrown on the front. The Gryphon Club, on the other hand, owned an entire estate. Right in the middle of downtown Cambridge. It was so fancy that you couldn’t even see it from the road.
The gate swung open automatically as Ghostie turned onto the driveway. And then we had to drive another three minutes up a twisty, tree-lined drive.
Eventually we got to one of the coolest mansions I’d ever seen. And that was saying something. Because Daddy owned a lot of mansions. But his were mostly sleek and modern. The Gryphon Club, on the other hand, was in a freaking gothic castle.
“Ahh!” I squealed. “This is gonna be so much fun. I love castle parties.”
“Are you sure this is the right place?” asked Ash. “It kinda looks like somewhere you’d go if you wanted to get murdered.”
“Check out the grotesques.” I pointed to the roof.
“The what?” asked Ash.
“She’s talking about the gargoyles,” said Chad.
“Oh. Are those supposed to make me feel better? Because those things are creepy as hell.”
“Look closer,” I said.
Ash pressed her face to the glass. “Ah, I see it. They look like gryphons.”
“Do they?” I tilted my head. “Huh. I guess they do.”
“Wait, what were you talking about?”
“Their dicks, of course. Look at those things!” I tilted my head. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s the work of the one and only Leopold van Doren.” He was my all-time favorite grotesque sculptor, because unlike most, he understood that grotesques were just a way to put penis sculptures on churches without getting in trouble.
Ash’s eyes got big.
“Yes, yes. Van Doren sculpt best penis,” said Slavanka.
“No way!” I said. “Are you a fellow grotesque connoisseur?” Slavanka just kept getting cooler and cooler.
“What about penises?” asked Scooter.
I pointed up at the roof.
“Well shit,” he said. “I’m gonna have to sue the Gryphon Club, because they were not authorized to use the likeness of my dick on their gargoyles.”
Yeah right.
“I think maybe I’ll just have Ghost take me back to the dorms…” said Ash.
“I’ll go back with you,” said Scooter. “I can make you an octuple-egg smoothie and we can try out some new BFR bands I got. What do you squat? 450?”
“Uh, actually. I already promised Chastity that I’d go to this party.” Ash got out of the limo so fast.
Thank you, Scooter.
