(Warning from the editor: Castor's prose runs away with him sometimes. He's young, and he's read far too many old books.)
My name is Castor Nova. I've always known that it was my destiny to plumb the deepest secrets of the universe, or this system that we call "the universe". And at first I was naive enough to think that the old Urele Oresha Cham fraternity, founded at Sim State University by my great-Uncle Silas, would be the best place to begin my studies.
Constantly distracted by purile frat parties and the unwanted attentions of the Tri-Var Girls from the sorority across the road (all of whom somehow developed fawning crushes on me), I felt the long wasted minutes stretching behind me like road-kill. Then I met Allegra.
She was deep and dark, her mind and tongue sharp as twin whips. She saw the world as I did, as a vast and perhaps ugly mystery to be penetrated and understood. And she saw something in me as well, something that appealed to her and brought out, not so much a warmth, as a dark and alluring heat.
Although I grew fond, eventually, of my hapless frat brothers, it was only Allegra who ever understood me.
One pleasant side effect of the ripening of my relationship with Allegra was that it put an end to the infatuations of the Tri-Var Girls.
Entirely expectedly, the girls' hearts swung without a moment's hesitation elsewhere, to the nearest available alternatives.
Heather is, I imagine, off somewhere in the bushes with the postman, or the pizza man.
Even with Allegra's inspiration, my time at college continued to creep glacially past. One afternoon, when I was visiting her at her rooms in town, we had a serious conversation.
We talked in theoretical terms, but her subtext was clear: I needed to speed up my studies, get through college, and join her, or I might find her gone.
(Editor's note: in particular, this was where I discovered that while a playable character living in the neighborhood can magically cause a non-playable character to graduate from college with the "Move In" interaction (see for instance Randy and Regina), this doesn't work on playable characters. So if Castor was going to come live at Rooms To Let with Allegra, I had to get him through college myself (dropping out would have been entirely out of character). And that meant getting Castor out of the frat house, because it's really boring to play!)
Back on campus, I told my frat brothers that I would be moving out to somewhere with less distractions, so I could focus on learning.
I was unused to the constant presence of women...
Carla was particularly sympathetic.
She was utterly unlike Allegra; light where Allegra was dark, open and generous where Allegra was sharp and demanding. I found the contrast fascinating.
I also found Chloe Gonzaga, a shy pale woman, very attractive.
After one of my dates with Allegra (which were invariably conducted entirely between the front walk and my bed), I looked out the window just in time to see her sneaking away down the street.
I smiled inwardly at the thought that she felt it necessary to conceal an act of generosity under cover of night. Carla would have felt no such compunction, I thought.
The new piano was very popular.
I enjoyed the soft feeling of her body against mine.
In the focused environment of Habitation Hall, the rest of my college career passed at whirlwind speed. The final exam of my senior year was scheduled for 10 pm.
I had dinner with my dorm mates, as usual.
I passed, of course, with the highest honors.
Allegra couldn't stay long, as she and her minions had a mind-control satellite to launch (she has always been interested in knowledge as a tool for domination rather than for its own sake; but we tolerate and even appreciate each other's value systems for all of that).
Alone and still full of energy despite the lateness of the hour, I was glad to see a light coming from under Carla's door. I knocked, and she let me in. Her room smelled of flowers. I told her that I would be leaving in the morning, and she embraced me again.
And then I was kissing her.
After some awkward attempts at casualness on both of our parts (that it still embarasses me to recall), we were lying on my bed (the only double bed in the dorm) talking about trivia.
I tumbled her backward onto the bed and kissed her again.
Some part of me was detached from the scene, standing apart and appreciating the softness of her lips and the sweetness of her breath from a distance. Allegra and I had made no promises to each other beyond the mutual agreement of rational agents. She had had brief but torrid lesbian affairs with two of the infamous Raptors, and I'd found her (detailed, lascivious) descriptions of them arousing and pleasantly disturbing.
But for whatever reason I did not want to imagine lying in bed with Allegra and telling her about this.
And then even that last detached part of me came near, to warm itself by the tender creature in my arms.
It was the best time to leave.
The sun rose just as the taxi pulled up.
As the taxi took me away, I thought of Carla rising and getting out of bed. Would she know at once that I was gone?
I arrived at the boarding house where Allegra lived, and where I too now lived, late the next night.
Inside, one lone wakeful resident played a soft tune on the piano.
And later, between the sheets, she said "And how is Carla?". And then she laughed.
And now I sit, in the main room of Brandi LeTourneau's Rooms to Let, writing the last entry of this College Diary. In the morning I will apply for a position in the local research laboratory. And I see there is an empty easel sitting to one side; perhaps I'll paint a scene with two angels, one dark and one light, about to open a book the size of the universe. Oil, do you think, or acrylic? Definitely not watercolor...