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Freshers by Tom Ellen (7)

PHOEBE

Will turned his key in the lock. He pushed open the door and felt for my hand as we walked in.

‘OK, there’s no bulb in the hall and a lot crap, so go slowly.’

I reached my other hand out and tried to feel for the wall but felt bike handlebars instead. The floor felt uneven underneath my feet and I kept treading on random shoes.

‘OK.’ He let go of my hand and patted the wall for the switch and we both blinked as the living room lit up.

On one side it had a depressed-looking little red sofa that was missing one of its cushion covers. Opposite it was a wall with three bikes stacked up against each other. Various items of football kit and some T-shirts randomly hung off them. Behind the bikes the wall was covered in some sort of fantasy football scoring system that had notes written in green marker with points next to names. Josh and Will were up there and then ‘Pete’ and ‘Lolly’. I think I had met Lolly, he had a strong Northern Irish accent and had started a conga line round the dance floor earlier. The flat smelt strongly of rotting fruit.

There had obviously been some pretty heavy pre-drinks going on, as the whole of the living room floor was covered in empty beer cans. There were also four polystyrene boxes lined up by the sofa, some still with kebab and chip remnants in. The carpet was covered in so much pasta that it was unbelievable that there had been any left for him to wear on his head. He shrugged. ‘This house is disgusting. My mum won’t even come in. She just waits in the car.’ He didn’t seem embarrassed or anything.

‘OK.’ He smiled at me. ‘Now I’m going to prove to you that I wasn’t bullshitting about the midnight feast. Do you want a cup of tea?’

I nodded and he disappeared into the kitchen. Usually I go for intense, creative types. Well, I think the main reason I fancied Adam was cos he was in a band for about seven minutes in Year Ten, and Max’s final art piece was a painting of a girl with a tear on her cheek and I thought it meant he was deep and understood women. I suppose Luke Taylor doesn’t really fit the troubled thinker mould. But then did I even actually fancy Luke Taylor, except to look at?

Will was just hot. No one could look at him and say he was unattractive. You could say you weren’t into posh boys with floppy quiffs and perfect teeth and canvas shoes, but you couldn’t say he wasn’t hot.

The more I got to know him the hotter he was getting, too. Over the course of the week Will had gone from random hook-up to my kind of steady person. It would feel weird now to get with anyone else. We were in a week-long exclusive thing. Well, in my head we were.

I pushed the various games controllers and some tracksuit bottoms out of the way and sat down on the sofa. The night had passed really quickly. As soon as Will had come over, pasta flying everywhere, everything had got more fun. He was one of those people that everyone seemed to know and everyone seemed to love. Him and Josh and their mates were always at the heart of everything. Will was so relaxed. He didn’t care about making a fool of himself. He would dance to cheesy songs and at the end he got in a line with me and Liberty and Frankie and Negin and did the Macarena. And every so often we would make our way to the edge of the dance floor and he would tuck my hair behind my ears and cup my face in his hands and start kissing me.

At one point, we were by the bar and they played ‘Jump Around’. He grabbed me and started bouncing me round and then picked me up and kind of carried me to a space so we could keep dancing a weird kind of polka together. And I just couldn’t stop laughing. Boys who make you laugh are everything.

I made the decision in my head then that I wanted to go home with him. Because why not? I’m at uni; it was the last night of Freshers’. I’d never had a one-night stand. And it wouldn’t even be a one-night stand. And who cares if it was anyway? Isn’t the whole point that you’re allowed to go a bit mad?

Will reappeared, holding a white box in one hand and two mugs in the other. ‘We’ve got no plates and no cutlery so we’ll just have to eat it with our hands.’ He handed me a mug half filled with clear brown liquid. ‘We’ve got no milk either, sorry.’

‘I actually dread to think what that kitchen looks like,’ I said, smiling.

‘It’s best that you never ever go in there. We try and go in there as little as possible, to be honest.’

He sat down next to me, on top of a heap of crap. He rested the box on his lap and started to open the sides gently.

‘I feel like there’s a kitten in there or something. You are being really careful.’

He pushed the lid back to reveal four perfectly formed little cakes. There was a fox, a hedgehog, a mouse and a badger, all carved delicately out of marzipan.

‘Wow. We can’t eat them, they’re works of art. Why do you even have these? I feel like they don’t even belong in this house, no offence. Did you buy them?’

Will laughed. ‘Obviously not. Josh works in Bettys in town. He gets, like, untold amounts of cake.’

‘I hope he can get me a job there if this is what you take home.’

‘Is he actually sorting that?’

‘Well, he’s got me a trial shift next week, so hopefully. Are you sure he won’t mind us eating these?’

Will shook his head. ‘He’s probably already eaten about twenty-five of them this week.’

I carefully picked up the badger.

‘I knew you’d go for the badger.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know. Because it’s the weirdest one.’

‘Oh right. Saying I’m weird, are you?’ I leant sideways and bumped him with my shoulder.

‘No, I’m saying you’re awesome.’ He smiled at me and reached down and picked up the hedgehog.

‘What does the hedgehog say about you?’ I said.

‘That I’m a pie. It’s the biggest one.’

‘Oh my god, it’s so nice inside, it’s full of cream.’

He nodded and we both sat, just eating. And then the atmosphere changed that tiny bit. Like we both knew that we couldn’t just sit there eating fondant fancies. They weren’t really the main event; they were the reason we both latched on to so we could come here. Obviously neither of us thought I was going to get up and leave after tea and cake. But it would feel random to just start kissing on the lumpy sofa. For the first time I felt nervous, because it was almost getting awkward; I just wanted it to be the next bit.

And then it was.

He leant over and kissed me and then we were kissing on the sofa for ages.

‘OK,’ he whispered. ‘So my bedroom’s through the kitchen. I don’t want you to faint before we get there so let’s just run through with the lights off.’

I started to laugh and he jumped up and grabbed my hand and started to actually run, dragging me along with him, through the dark kitchen and into his room. We fell with force in a heap on the bed and started kissing again, even though we were both still laughing. But we kissed our way out of the laughter.

I find moving from stage to stage really weird. He was on top of me but we were both fully dressed still. Which one of us was going to instigate getting undressed? I pushed him away gently and took my top off and then reached over and half helped him get his T-shirt off, too. Our skin was against each other. His chest felt kind of hard. More built than anyone I had ever been with for sure. I knew he wouldn’t be able to take my bra off, so I reached behind my back and unhooked it. We kept kissing and kissing and then he reached down and tried to unbutton my jeans. I did it for him and wiggled out of them. I was naked except for my pants. It was pitch black so he wouldn’t even see the bright blue lace set I had worn, just in case.

‘Do you want to?’ he whispered.

I kissed him and said yes and he took his jeans off. And then Miss Hay popped into my head.

I wonder how many people’s heads Miss Hay has popped into just before they have sex. Miss Hay and her penis facts: ‘Any time you are naked near a penis, sperm can go astray and just get in you and impregnate you.’ Any time. It can go on his hands and then on your hands and then just end up in there. It can be on the bed and just swim up you. Miss Hay and her terrifying penis knowledge designed to ambush you just when you were supposed to be focusing on something else.

We started kissing again and he reached down and put his hand inside my knickers and then suddenly he just stopped and moved away. Neither of us spoke for about five seconds.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said through the darkness.

I wasn’t sure what was going on. I was glad it was dark because it suddenly felt truly, horribly awkward. ‘Why?’ I whispered.

‘I shouldn’t have drunk so much.’

I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about and the silence just permeated the darkness. Did he expect me to say something?

‘We might have to wait,’ he murmured. ‘Until I’m a bit less pissed.’

And then I felt awful for not realizing what he had been trying to say. I panicked. I wanted to make it better but I didn’t know what to do. I crept across the bed and put my arms around his neck and kissed it.

‘Honestly, it doesn’t matter at all.’ I tried to make it sound really offhand but in the silence it didn’t feel like that.

We lay back on the bed next to each other and I wondered if it was because he had drunk too much. Maybe it was because he wasn’t that hot for me? I pulled the covers up over me. I suddenly felt self-conscious about it. Like I might have caused it. I wanted to text Flora. Or google it. My phone was in my bag in the living room. I hadn’t even texted the girls to confirm I wasn’t dead. The house still felt empty. We hadn’t heard anyone come in.

I could tell from the way Will’s body relaxed next to me that he had fallen asleep.

LUKE

Arthur was either out, or passed out. He wasn’t opening his door, anyway. I messaged him and he messaged straight back:

‘In town with Reets. My room’s open if u wanna play Xbox. Help yourself to Twiglets on the bed.’

I went into the kitchen, where the remains of last night’s emoji pre-drinks cans were still scattered across most surfaces. Rosie, Tom and Nishant were stirring a massive pot on the hob and having a lively conversation about something called ‘covalent bonding’. They broke off when I came in, and smiled at me.

‘Hey, Luke,’ said Tom.

‘Hey. You guys all right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What you making?’

‘Well, it was supposed to be tuna mayo pasta,’ said Nishant. ‘But Tom forgot to buy the tuna . . .’

‘And the mayonnaise . . .’ Rosie added.

‘So, basically, it’s my speciality . . . Extremely Dry Pasta,’ Tom said.

Rosie rolled her eyes and smiled at him. ‘That Jamie Oliver book your mum bought you is really coming in handy, isn’t it?’

They all laughed. It was mad to think they’d only known each other six days. They were already like a little family.

‘Are you all starting labs tomorrow, then?’ I asked them.

Tom nodded, and Rosie said, ‘Do your seminars start tomorrow, too?’

‘Yep. Should do some reading for them, really.’

A silence descended, which Nishant burst by reigniting the covalent bonding chat. It felt a bit awkward to shuffle around them, cooking my own dinner, so I just made some toast and took it back to my room. I found Barney out in the corridor, knocking on Arthur’s door.

‘Just tried it,’ I said. ‘He’s out.’

‘Oh, right.’ Barney stiffened, slightly. ‘It’s just that I had some Twiglets, but I can’t seem to find them at the moment. I was wondering if Arthur . . . knew anything about that.’

‘I’ll ask him when I see him.’

‘Thanks, Luke. I’ll be in Beth’s room.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Studying.’

‘OK, cool.’

I sat on my bed and ate my toast and wondered if I was the only person on campus currently sat on their own. Beth was with Barney, Arthur with Rita, the chemists with the chemists, everyone with someone else.

Freshers’ Week was basically over, and what did I have to show for it, except a series of increasingly bad hangovers? The only properly enjoyable bits had been playing football and making sure Stephanie Stevens didn’t die. I hadn’t really made any friends. Not proper ones, anyway. Dad had met Ryan – my godfather – on his first night at Manchester. Reece was constantly posting mad pictures of all his new mates at Nottingham. Was it bad luck or was it just . . . me?

I chewed my toast and tried to convince myself that it was just because football hadn’t started properly yet. Football was how I’d meet people. It was how I’d always met people. Or maybe I’d meet them in seminars and lectures. But it was like the terror of not making friends was stopping me actually making friends. Like, how can you relax and be yourself when you’re constantly wondering if every conversation might be the beginning of a life-long friendship?

I finished my toast and started reading the first chapter of Modern Romantic Poetry for tomorrow’s seminar. And, then, after about three paragraphs, I gave up and watched Rick and Morty on Netflix.

When I went back into the kitchen an hour or so later, the chemists had relocated to Tom’s room to eat their dinner, and Arthur was there instead, unwrapping something on the counter.

‘Where d’you get to?’ I sniffed the air. ‘And what the fuck is that smell?’

He turned around, his eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘I have found the bargain of the century here, man. I mean, literally, the supermarket Holy Grail. Only fifty quid . . . for this.’

He stepped aside flamboyantly to reveal a massive wheel of brie, about the size and thickness of a car tyre. It was wrapped tightly in cellophane, but it still absolutely reeked.

‘Didn’t they have any edible stuff?’ I said, pinching my nose.

He ignored this question and patted the cheese proudly. ‘Look at the fucking size of it! I’ll literally be able to live off this beast all term. I won’t have to spend another penny on food.’

‘You can’t just eat brie for ten weeks, Arthur.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘That sounds like a challenge, Luke.’

‘It’s not a challenge. You’d die. Probably. Plus, won’t it go off at some point?’

Arthur snorted. ‘Cheese can’t go off, Luke. It’s already off. That’s the great thing about cheese. I could literally still be eating this in 2050. My kids could be eating this.’

I opened all the windows as wide as they’d go while Arthur tried to jam the monstrous cheese into the fridge. But it was way too big. So he chopped it into six smaller, smellier, chunks, then labelled each one with a Post-It. ‘Don’t want Barney getting any ideas,’ he muttered. ‘This is definitely not communal.’

He straightened up and dusted his hands off. ‘Right, that’s that sorted. I’ll see you in a bit. Going out to meet Dan and Hassan and that.’

‘Oh, OK.’ I nodded. ‘Cool.’

He stopped in the doorway. ‘I mean, obviously, come if you want.’

I shook my head. ‘Nah, you’re all right. I need to be up early for this safety briefing thing anyway.’

‘Oh yeah. I remember that from last year. Massively boring. Bring a book, or something. Anyway, see you later, man.’

I went and sat on my bed again and stared lamely at the wall as I listened to the muffled chatter wafting across the corridor from Tom’s room.

I thought about calling Reece but decided against it. When have I ever called Reece just ‘for a chat’? Then, suddenly, without realizing it, my finger was hovering over Abbey’s number. For some reason, I wanted to hear her voice so badly. To talk to someone who actually knew me, who actually cared about me.

Before I could make the decision, though, my phone exploded into life on its own.

‘Hello? Will?’

‘You all right, mate?’ he said. ‘You in Jutland?’

‘Yeah, just finished dinner. Why?’

‘I had to come to campus to hand something in. Just wondered if you fancied a beer. They’ll have Match of the Day 2 on in the bar.’

‘Yeah. Nice one. Sounds good.’

A few minutes later I was down in the bar, which was by far the most deserted it had been all week. Will brought two bottles of lager over to our table, then flopped down dramatically into his chair.

‘Fuck, mate.’ He took a long swig from his bottle and wiped his lips. ‘Hungover essay writing. Never, ever fun.’ He swept a hand through his hair. ‘I miss being a first year. No pressure. Except to get fucked-up every night.’

I picked a sticky piece of spaghetti off the chair next to me. ‘They’re going to be cleaning up after you all year in here.’

He laughed. ‘I might make the pasta a regular thing. No matter how pissed I get, I’ll still be able to tell where I’ve been.’

‘Did you have a good night last night, then?’ I asked. I’d watched him leave around 1 a.m. with his arm draped round Phoebe’s shoulders.

He raised his eyebrows and grinned. ‘Yeah. Good, mate. Very good.’ He picked carefully at the label on his beer bottle, and left it at that.

‘So, how’s your corridor, then?’ he said.

‘Yeah, they’re all right. I don’t have that much in common with them, to be honest.’

‘Translation: they’re boring geeks.’ He laughed, and I laughed along with him.

‘No, no, they’re nice,’ I said. ‘We’re just not that similar, I guess. I dunno. I mean, it’s just luck who you end up on a corridor with, isn’t it? Some people get lucky, some people don’t.’

Which was about as close to ‘I’m fucking lonely here and I don’t know what to do’ as I could manage.

But it was almost like Will got what I meant. His smile dropped and he scratched harder at his beer label. ‘Yeah, well . . . You’re in the Ones now, aren’t you, mate,’ he said, not quite looking at me. ‘I mean, you’ve got us lot, haven’t you?’

I nodded and smiled, as if that made me feel better. Then I realized it actually did.

Will’s phone buzzed and he checked it, snorting a laugh at whatever had just come through. He dropped it back on to the table and stood up. ‘Just going for a slash.’

I watched him walk off, then stared down at his phone, which was just lying there, unlocked on the table. In the split second before the screen went dark I caught a glimpse of a photo – what looked like a girl’s face, asleep on a pillow.

I went to pick up the phone but it had already locked. So I just sat there, sipping my beer and watching the football flicker silently on the massive TV.