Freshmen

by Tom Ellen

  I didn’t know what to say to this. I felt like the conversation was snowballing out of control. I was saying things I wasn’t sure I meant. I felt tired.

  “What are you saying, then?” she asked finally. “Are you saying you want to get back together?”

  “No. Or…maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Great,” she snapped. “Well, your decisiveness is really reassuring.”

  “Sorry.”

  I heard her click her tongue irritably. “Shit, we can’t talk like this. I hate not being able to see you. It’s crazy talking about this stuff over the phone.”

  “I know. It feels like years since I last saw you.”

  “Yeah. I know.” She exhaled heavily. “Shall we just talk tomorrow? I’m tired; we’ve been driving for ages.”

  “Yeah, OK. Speak to you tomorrow.”

  I knew I should try to think hard about what I really wanted. Try to get everything straight in my head. I texted Phoebe back and told her I couldn’t meet tomorrow in the daytime, as I had to do schoolwork.

  Then I looked down at the Ariel book poking out the top of my backpack and wondered what the fuck I was going to do.

  Seeing Flora tumble out of the train and onto the platform made me unexpectedly tearful. I sprinted over to her like she was my long-lost love. In a way she kind of is, I suppose. She is the memory stick that carries anything that has ever happened to me that meant something. The sight of her is like a jolt connecting me to every version of myself I have ever been, all at once.

  She was wearing the old red duffle coat that was her dad’s in the eighties. It was sort of falling off her shoulders because she was carrying so many random bags. Underneath, she was wearing a knitted sweater and the lime-green flares she had bought from an Etsy shop that were too small so we hacked the waistband off.

  “Best one.” She cuddled me hard. “Happy birthday. I thought you would look different but you look exactly the same. Are you crying? I joked to my mum you would cry, but now you actually are.”

  “You know what I’m like. Why do you have so many small bags? You look like a crazy bag lady.”

  “Because I didn’t bring a small suitcase to college, only one massive one.”

  I slung three of them over my shoulder and then linked arms with her.

  It was a weirdly warm day for the first of December, and the sun made York look quaint and picturesque. We wandered through the cobbled streets and took a photo by the wall. Flora reached out and ran her fingers across a brick. “It’s weird that an actual medieval person stood right here….”

  “I find stuff like that totally crazy. Do you remember when Mr. Gillcrest told us that if you stood on a star and looked at the world you would be looking at it in Tudor times? And I still don’t get that thing about the human race fitting in a sugar cube.” I reached out and put both my palms on one stone.

  “You remember the weirdest things.” She put her hands next to mine. “I am so excited to see you with Luke Taylor. Like, beyond.”

  “OK, well. Just know that it isn’t going to happen until I have laid down some ground rules.”

  Flora started tiptoeing her way along a crack in the pavement and held her arms out like she was on a tightrope. She looked at me and winked. “What’s it worth? ’Cause I have material.”

  I jumped in front of her. “I mean it. However drunk you get, whatever happens, you cannot say…anything. I mean, I feel like it’s best if you don’t ever speak to him.”

  “What, so you’ll be married and I’ll be godmother to your kids but I’ll never have spoken to him?”

  “Yup.”

  She put her arms down. “OK, I’m obviously going to play it perfectly. I’ll be, like, ‘Oh yeah, Luke, I couldn’t picture you when Phoebe mentioned you, but actually, yeah, now I recognize you.’ ”

  “You’re overacting. It’s not a pantomime.”

  “I’m not—you’re paranoid. Who won the drama cup?” She took a bow at a random man walking past.

  “Look. I just…I’m nervous. This week has been really weird.”

  It was weird because suddenly the gap between who I was on the inside and who I was on the outside had become like a crater. Outside there was the casual, confident me who agreed with Negin and Frankie that maybe Luke didn’t deserve to be forgiven, and that I could do better. And inside was the real me, who was spending way more time with him than I was letting on, and was getting deeper into it than ever. And now Flora was dive-bombing right into the middle of it all and I was going to have to negotiate it.

  “We have been together every day,” I told her, “but we haven’t even kissed yet.”

  “Romantic. Like a weird Amish dating trial.”

  “No. I just think he wants us to get it right this time. He said he wants tonight to be amazing.”

  “Maybe he’ll flamenco dance in the middle of the restaurant.” Flora snorted. “Anyway, is this real? Like, actually real? Like, Luke Taylor. Marauder’s Map Luke Taylor? Love potion Luke Taylor—”

  I jumped on her back and she screamed. “This is exactly what I am talking about. You have to shut up.”

  She nodded. “OK, OK. Promise.”

  “Do you actually?”

  She held my hand. “Obviously.” She squeezed it. “I’m messing with you. I would rather die than fuck it up. I feel like this is happening to me, too. It’s happening to us.”

  We walked into the main bit of town, to the huge glass windows of Bettys.

  “Oh my god.” Flora walked right up to the window where an elderly couple were eating strawberry meringues and cupped her hands and peered in. “Bettys is fan-cy. It looks like the kind of place Daisy Buchanan goes for tea.” She started to Charleston.

  The couple stared disapprovingly at her, and she smiled at them and backed away. “There is a full-on line to get in. Like a club. Is this real?”

  She walked into the main door for people who only want to buy things over the counter. I followed her in and scanned the room but Josh wasn’t there. I felt a bit disappointed.

  Sandra appeared. “Josh isn’t here, love. He’s on his break. Do you want something to take home with you? Is this your friend?”

  Flora bowed slightly. “Yup. Friend-from-home. Best friend, in fact.”

  We picked a cake each and Sandra put them in a box and tied it with ribbon.

  “He’s probably at the pastry shop,” she said as she handed it to me. “And he’s already had four slices of cake.”

  Him not being there made me realize how much I wanted Flora to meet him.

  And then, as we wandered back down the street, something pushed between us and linked both our arms. “Now then, Birthday Girl.” Josh was still holding half a meat pie in his hand, which he took a chomp out of. “Do you want one? I’ve got two more. It’s not your real present, obviously.”

  “Two more?” Flora said disapprovingly. “And you’ve already had four slices of cake.”

  “Spying on me when you don’t even know me?” Josh shook his head. “I’m Josh.” He held out his paper bakery bag in greeting.

  Flora shook the bag. “Flora.”

  Josh and Flora are the type of people who have that easy confidence that means they can make friends with anyone in about thirty-five seconds.

  “Are you coming out tonight?” she asked.

  Josh shook his head. “I’m working.”

  “He’s actually working my shift, so I don’t have to work my birthday.”

  “I’m gonna come out afterward, though. Would never let Miss Bennet’s birthday go uncelebrated.” He held out his arms and gave me a massive hug. “Happy birthday.” He picked me up as he said it and then waved us goodbye while shoving the rest of his pastry in his mouth.

  “Well, he is attract
ive,” Flora said. “Apparently, York Met is full of eligible bachelors.”

  We walked back to campus, and I started to feel weird about Flora being there. Like she was an anachronism who didn’t belong in Jutland D Dorm, but in my bedroom or the high school common room or Finnegan’s on a Friday night.

  When we got back to the hall, it felt like a bit of an anticlimax, because no one was there. I showed Flora my birthday present from Frankie and Negin—a set of big wooden letters to decoupage for our house next year. They were all of our initials, including Becky’s. Then we went into the kitchen, made instant Quaker oats and crumbled a Crunchie bar over the top.

  “Shall we have a nap?” Flora ran her finger around the bowl and ate the last bits of Crunchie-flavored oatmeal.

  We got into our pajamas and climbed into opposite ends of the bed.

  “Luke Taylor has slept in this bed,” Flora mumbled. “That’s fucking weird.” I checked my phone. Luke still hadn’t texted since telling me “Happy Birthday” at ten a.m. It was making me nervous. Of all the days to not be in touch. But maybe he was busy buying my present or something. I wondered if he was working on a surprise party in our hall, or decorating the restaurant or something?

  And then Flora fell asleep and I lay there imagining how the night would be. I thought about Luke hugging Flora and then, when I wasn’t there, telling her how much he liked me. How they would get on and Flora would ask us both to go and see her in Leeds. I wanted to look really good, because tonight did feel like something I would remember forever.

  I woke up to faint knocking on the door. “You in, Phoebe?” It was Negin.

  “Yeah, we were just napping,” I called gently. Flora wriggled around. I opened the curtain up a bit. Negin pushed the door and craned her head in.

  “Hey, I’m Negin. Do you guys want a cup of tea?”

  “That would be amazing.” Negin wanting to be nice to Flora made a wave of happiness wash over me.

  Flora wriggled around to face Negin. “That would be legit amazing.”

  By the time Frankie came over, all we had achieved was making room for Negin on the bed and drinking another cup of tea and eating the other two Crunchies in the pack. Frankie had brought a seaside bucket and spade with donkeys on them to use as a punch vessel and stirrer.

  “Erm, we’re not leaving for another three hours,” I said.

  “It’s your birthday, Phoebster. That means we’re drinking tonight, and we’re going hard.”

  She sat down on my floor and started filling the bucket with brightly colored juice and then vodka. She opened a bottle of Coke and poured it in and started mixing it with the spade. “I feel like a witch making a brew.” She peered into the bowl. “Make Ed want to kiss me,” she muttered in a slow zombie voice as she stirred.

  We started getting ready, but the longer Luke didn’t text me, the more anxious I got. I tried to be as breezy as possible and only allowed myself to check my phone every four songs.

  “Have you seen Luke today?” I tried to sound casual. Frankie and Negin shook their heads. They didn’t look like they were acting.

  “Haven’t you?” Frankie asked.

  “No, no, I mean, he knows I’m with Flora so…”

  They all nodded.

  “So what do you think of Luke Taylor?” Flora said conspiratorially. “I mean, I don’t know him, you guys do.”

  Neither Frankie nor Negin said anything immediately, and then they both nodded exaggeratedly. “Yeah, he’s really nice. Really, really nice.” The way Negin said it made me nervous. I didn’t want to get into all the Wall of Shame stuff. To be honest, I’d given Flora a slightly abbreviated version of it all, playing up Luke’s walk-off at the game and almost making him out to be the hero of the whole thing. I turned the music up but Flora kept talking.

  “I mean, you must understand how crazy this is for me. Like, I spent seven years of my life investing in Phoebe’s Luke Taylor obsession, and it’s, like, now her and Luke Taylor are an actual thing.”

  Negin and Frankie nodded again.

  “You guys know about the Marauder’s Map, right?” Flora asked.

  “Flora, shut up.” I hit her on the knee. “This is exactly what I was talking about earlier.”

  “Oh, come on, I can tell Frankie and Negin.”

  I rolled my eyes. “OK…”

  Flora shuffled up onto her knees and leaned forward, swishing the spade like a wand. “Basically, in eighth grade we found a copy of Luke’s schedule in the library and hand-drew a Luke Taylor Marauder’s Map so we knew exactly where he was at all times.”

  Frankie whistled, and Negin said: “We could do with that now, to be honest.” I laughed along with them, but my stomach was tenser than ever.

  Connor and Liberty and the others met us in the kitchen and we took pictures and played Ring of Fire. I kept going to the bathroom to look at my phone, but nothing. He said he would come. He knew Flora was coming. When I came back into the kitchen, Flora, Negin and Frankie all exchanged a look.

  “Have you heard from Luke?” Flora asked casually. “Why don’t you text him?”

  “Yeah, I’ll see where’s he’s at.” I shrugged like it was no big deal as I got my phone out and wrote:

  Are you coming for the pregame? If not, see you at browns at 8?

  I put my phone in my pocket and made myself not look at it for the rest of the game. I pretended to have forgotten my lip gloss and ran back to my room just so I could check my phone without them seeing. He had seen the message. I took a deep breath. I only sent it half an hour ago. He might be doing anything, really. But what?

  As I walked back to the kitchen I could hear them all talking through the door, but when I opened it, they went quiet suddenly.

  “What did Luke say?” Negin asked.

  “Oh, nothing yet. I think he’s finishing his essay.”

  She smiled, and Frankie said, “Luke Taylor…what an enigma.”

  I laughed. “What do you mean?”

  “No, nothing. Just…” She trailed off and looked at Negin, like she was tagging her into the conversation.

  “I just wonder if he has…issues,” Negin said quietly, and Flora handed me a massive drink.

  I was leaving the library when I got Phoebe’s text. I checked my phone and saw she was getting ready to go to Brown’s with Flora and everyone.

  I wandered around campus aimlessly, and thought about calling her, or even heading over to her dorm, but I didn’t. Eventually, I just sent her a message that said: Sorry, been so hectic today, see you at dinner later x. Which basically translated as, Sorry, I’m a massive jerk, but at that moment I couldn’t think of anything better.

  I hadn’t even had time to sort the surprise out. It was supposed to be the big thing for tonight—bigger than the Ariel book, even—but I’d been so weighed down with Abbey thoughts all day, I’d forgotten all about it.

  I got back to my dorm, fully intending to flop down onto my bed and try to get my head straight before I headed out to the dinner. But when I opened the kitchen door, I thought I was hallucinating. Like, maybe the half spliff I’d had earlier with Arthur was making me see things. But there was no way Arthur’s rubbish weed could cause such a heart-stoppingly realistic apparition.

  “Hey,” Abbey said.

  “Hey,” I heard myself say back.

  She stood up, and I thought she was coming over to give me a hug or something, but she just stayed on the other side of the table, scratching her elbow awkwardly.

  “This girl let me in,” she said. “Hope that’s OK.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I meant to say. But instead I said: “Yeah, of course.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “It smells quite bad in here.”

  “That’s the cheese,” I said, flicking Barney
’s latest note on the fridge.

  I was having serious trouble coming to terms with the fact that she was actually here. Here in York. Here in my hall. She looked healthy and happy—or maybe just healthier and happier than the last time I’d seen her. She was wearing her long, dark-blue coat, and she must have just gotten here, because her cheeks were still pink from the cold. It felt like so long since I’d last seen her.

  In the end, she answered the question without me even asking it.

  “I know this is a bit out of the blue, but after yesterday, I just thought it would be better to talk for real,” she said. “Face to face.”

  “Yeah, definitely.” I nodded. “It’s good to see you.” And it really was. I felt the sudden urge to go and hug her, to hold her tight and feel her pressed right up against me, with her head tucked neatly under my chin. She used to say that’s how she knew we were meant to be together—because we clicked into each other perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle.

  “Can we go somewhere the smell can’t get us?” she asked, frowning. I unlocked my room and she followed me inside.

  “So…this is where it all happens?”

  “Yeah, I guess. If by ‘where it all happens,’ you mean ‘where I try to understand what the fuck Ted Hughes is going on about.’ ”

  She sat down on the bed and cracked a smile. “I bet you haven’t changed your sheets once yet, have you?”

  I smiled back. “Good guess.”

  “And I bet your mum put these on for you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You know me so well.”

  It was meant as an off-the-cuff comment, but I felt the air tighten around it. She really did know me well. We were together nearly three and a half years. That had to mean something, right?

  I sat down on the bed next to her. “So…what’s going on, then?” I asked.

  She smoothed a crease in the comforter. “I don’t know. I just…after we spoke yesterday, I wanted to see you. To talk about stuff properly. About what’s happening. Or what’s going to happen.”