For a split second he thought he was hallucinating from hunger, because there was no logical reason Morris should be standing in the middle of a torchlit castle corridor on a second-year trip.
But there he was.
Black cargos. Brown compression shirt stretched clean across his chest. Flashlight in one hand, notebook in the other like he was about to document paranormal activity for National Geographic. Calm. Unbothered. Like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.
Adam blinked once. Twice.
"Morris?"
Morris looked up slowly, and the smirk that spread across his face was way too satisfied.
"Well I'll be, damned" he said lightly. "If it isn't Mr. Student Council himself."
Adam stared at him like the castle walls might start explaining things if he waited long enough.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "This is a second-year trip."
Morris tilted his head, shining the flashlight lazily against one of the stone arches before clicking it off. "Relax. I pulled some strings."
"Pulled what strings?" Adam stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You're third year. You can't just… show up."
Morris tapped the notebook against his palm. "Being a former student council president comes with perks. People still answer my calls."
Adam narrowed his eyes. "That's not how that works."
"It does if you know who to call."
The confidence in his voice was annoying. Effortlessly annoying. Like he'd already won whatever argument this was.
Adam looked him up and down again, trying to process the absurdity of it. The castle corridor was dim, torches crackling in iron brackets along the stone walls. Students' laughter echoed faintly from somewhere deeper inside. The air smelled like old rock and warm wiring from the temporary light installations.
And in the middle of all that, Morris looked like he was about to lead a field expedition.
"You're actually staying here?" Adam asked.
"Yeah."
"Like… overnight?"
"Yeah."
Adam exhaled slowly through his nose. "Ain't no way."
Morris chuckled. "You're really doubting my influence right now?"
Adam folded his arms, studying him. "I'm doubting your sanity."
They stood there for a second, just staring at each other.
Then Morris' smirk deepened.
"So," he said, lowering his voice slightly, "you heard the old man on the ferry, right?"
Adam's expression shifted. He didn't answer immediately.
Morris glanced around the corridor, then leaned in just a little. The playful tone in his voice dropped into something conspiratorial.
"I'm going siren hunting."
Adam blinked.
"…You what?"
"Siren. Hunting."
Adam stared at him like he'd just confessed to wrestling sharks for fun.
"You've lost your mind."
Morris shrugged, unfazed. "I just wanna see one for myself. Maybe snap a few photos. Maybe try talking to one without getting eaten."
"You hear yourself?"
"And if I'm lucky," Morris added, grin widening, "I might even bag me a siren baddie."
Adam barked out a laugh before he could stop himself.
"A siren baddie?"
"Why not? You telling me you wouldn't?"
"Man, you done lost it."
Morris nudged his shoulder. "I'm serious."
"That's the problem."
They both started laughing then, the sound echoing softly off the stone. It was the kind of laughter that felt familiar, grounding. Easy.
Adam shook his head, still grinning. "Bro. You been around too many white folks. That risk-taking energy getting to you."
Morris snorted. "Oh, so now it's a race thing?"
"Yes," Adam said immediately. "It absolutely is."
He stepped back, gesturing vaguely around them.
"You see creepy castle. You hear about lake monsters. And your first thought is, 'lemme go investigate.' That's white-people behavior."
Morris clutched his chest in mock offense. "That's crazy."
"It's not crazy," Adam insisted, warming into it. "Black folks in horror movies don't go check the noise. We leave. Immediately. Soon as the dog start barking at nothing? We out."
Morris laughed harder. "That's a stereotype."
"It's survival."
"You wouldn't even peek?"
Adam gave him a look. "Peek? For what? So something can drag me into the lake? Nah. I like breathing."
Morris wiped at his eye like he was actually tearing up from laughing. "You're unbelievable."
"I'm the unbelievable one here?" Adam retorted
Bryce laughed harder.
"You're tryna get folded by aquatic demons."
"Siren," Morris corrected.
"Whatever."
The laughter settled into something softer.
Adam tilted his head slightly. "You serious though?"
Morris' smile didn't disappear, but it shifted. Became steadier.
"Yeah," he said. "I wanna see if they're real like that. Not just stories. I've been reading up. Patterns. Sightings. North side of the island has the least light pollution. Less boat traffic."
Adam blinked slowly.
"You already planned this."
"Obviously."
"You're actually going."
Morris nodded once.
Adam exhaled, running a hand over his face. The stone floor felt cool beneath his sneakers. The castle air felt heavier down here, like it held secrets in the mortar.
"You know the guide wasn't playing," Adam said. "Half his crew gone."
Morris shrugged lightly. "Old man exaggerating."
"Or not."
There was a brief pause.
Then Morris looked at him more directly.
"You tryna come?"
Adam's stomach chose that exact moment to growl violently.
Both of them looked down.
Adam pressed a hand against his abdomen. "Man, I gotta eat first. I'm running on fumes."
Morris raised an eyebrow. "You look tired."
"I am tired."
It slipped out more honestly than Adam intended.
He felt it too. That hollow, dragging exhaustion behind his ribs. Like his body was chewing through itself just to keep moving.
Morris studied him for a second, the humor dimming just a touch.
"You good?"
"Yeah," Adam answered automatically.
The word came smooth, practiced.
Morris didn't push it.
Instead he jerked his chin northward. "I'll be up there later. North side. After dark."
Adam rolled his eyes. "You're actually doing this."
"Don't tell nobody."
"Why would I tell anybody? So they can stop you?"
"Exactly."
Adam shook his head, but there was a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Alright. I'll check on you later."
"After you inhale half the cafeteria."
"Don't judge me."
"I'm absolutely judging you."
They stood there a second longer.
Then Morris clapped him on the shoulder. "Stay safe, council boy."
"You too, explorer."
Morris turned, flashlight flicking back on, beam cutting through the dim corridor as he headed deeper into the castle's side passages.
Adam watched him go for a moment, still mildly stunned that he'd somehow accepted this as normal.
A third-year. On a second-year trip. Planning to flirt with aquatic predators.
"Unbelievable," Adam muttered under his breath.
He turned and started walking again, trying corridor after corridor until the faint scent of food finally drifted through the air.
Warm bread. Roasted meat. Oil. Spices.
His stomach clenched painfully at the smell.
He followed it down a wide stone staircase, torches lining the descent, shadows flickering against ancient walls.
Voices grew louder. Clatter of trays. Laughter.
The dungeons had been transformed. Long wooden tables set up beneath vaulted ceilings. Strings of temporary lights casting warm glows across stone. Steam rising from chafing dishes arranged along makeshift serving stations.
Relief washed over him so suddenly he almost sighed out loud.
Finally.
Food.