Monday 29 December 2014

Author's Note

Apologies for the lack of a post - I intended to get a post written up before all the Christmas mayhem hit, but unfortunately it never quite happened. This week should be a bit quieter so I'll try and get a bonus post up sometime to make up for it! I know pretty much exactly where the blog is going over the next year so the problem is definitely finding time rather than figuring out what to write :)

In the meantime, if anyone has any feedback on the blog so far it would be very much appreciated! My long-term aim is to be an author one day but before that becomes a reality I need a lot of practice, so any comments on writing style, conversations, character development, the pacing of each post (or any other aspects you want to comment on!) would be very useful at this stage. However, I understand for a lot of you the fun is in the reading and not the commenting (I've generally always been a non-commenter in the past reading other blogs), so otherwise just a massive thank you for taking the time to read my story :)

And finally - hope you all had a wonderful Christmas (or a wonderful holiday for those non-Christmas aligned!), and a very Happy New Year to you all!

Jane x

Sunday 21 December 2014

He Wants To Be In America

Cycling back from university on Wednesday, I couldn't decide if I was more excited or nervous about the football game tonight. On one hand, I'd been playing for years, I knew what I was doing, and this was only a friendly - nothing to worry about! On the other, the irrational part of me had been repeating a mantra all day: "This is it. This is it. Don't mess it up - this is it."

Last year in the team, I'd shared almost exactly half of the games with our other keeper. We'd both been about as good as each other, and it was a good way to not have too much pressure on one person whilst still getting plenty of games. As soon as I'd met Hayley, our keeper this year, I'd known it was going to be different, but I had university to focus on. On top of that, I was being Treasurer of the Committee for the second year running, which was it's own major source of stress. I'd taken the first step and spoken to our head coach, saying that I understood Hayley had a lot more experience and would probably get more games, but I was happy to take a step back and not play quite as many as last year - saving awkward conversations all round.

It had backfired a little though, as I hadn't played any games at all yet. I knew we were trying to win the league, but when I didn't even get picked for the games where we knew we'd win by ridiculous margins, it was a bit disheartening. I'd responded by trying to become the most reliable team member there was: attending every single training session, coming along to support the home games from the sides, and always keeping my Wednesdays free for games. I loved playing football and not being able to play anything was killing me.

Wrapped up in my thoughts, I was back at my flat before I knew it. Taking the stairs two at a time, I dropped all my university folders on my bed before heading to the kitchen.

"Dave? You home? I've got a match tonight so I'll be eating early, you want anything now?" Opening the fridge, I tried to decide what I wanted to eat. Nothing too heavy, but equally without eating I'd almost definitely faint... Picking out some spring onions, salmon trimmings and creme fraiche, I decided pasta would definitely do if I didn't cook my normal ridiculous amount. Despite being Head Chef of the flat, I still could never figure out how much dry pasta would give a reasonable portion size, and I had a tendency to make far too much.

Frowning slightly, I realised Dave hadn't replied. I'd bumped into him that morning ago on campus as he was about to head off to the cinema with Jess, but he said he'd still be home before I was. Wandering into the hallway, I saw his door was open. Sticking my head through, I saw him sitting on his bed staring out the window. Jumping on his bed and dropping down next to him, I nudged him with my elbow, and he burst into tears.

Suddenly looking at him properly, I saw how red his eyes were and the mound of tissues next to him on the bedside table. My stomach sank - had him and Jess argued again? Or something even worse?

"Dave, what's wrong? What happened?" I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug as he sobbed, unable to speak for the moment. As I rubbed my hand up and down his back, he pointed at a piece of paper lying in front of him. Confused, I picked it up and started to read. My stomach tensed even further as I realised it was about his industrial placement. As part of his course, students had the option to go on an industrial placement from January to September next year, and I knew Dave had been waiting on the result from an interview with his top company last week.

As I began to understand what I was reading, I frowned even harder. Surely I hadn't read that right? It looked like-

"I got it." Dave stared at the floor, not meeting my gaze. "I got the job."

"But - what? You got it? But you should be happy! That's amazing - congratulations!" I went to hug him again but he held up a hand to stop me.

"It's in America."

Stunned, I stared at him. America? We hadn't even known that was an option when I was helping him research companies. I was still thrilled for him though - this was a fantastic opportunity, and we'd been told so many times that it was so rare for students to get an overseas placement - you had to seriously impress them to get one. I couldn't figure out why Dave wasn't over the moon as well - until it hit me. Jess.

He half laughed as he noticed my expression change. I knew she made him happy so generally I didn't comment on anything Jess did, but to cause this level of misery when Dave had been offered such a great opportunity? To make my best friend this unhappy? No way could I accept that.

"Oh, Dave... She was there with you? She didn't take it well?"

He nodded and started explaining. Apparently he'd got the email just before the film started and immediately told Jess, unable to believe he'd done so well. Dave is a great chemist, but he's much better at the practical than the theory so his grades don't always reflect how talented he is, and it's affected his self-confidence. However, Jess hadn't dealt well with the news. She'd started crying but refused to talk to him, leaving them sitting there with her silent tears throughout the entire film. Afterwards Dave had tried to discuss it with her, but she'd told him it was too much for her and left him standing in the street without another word. From experience he knew chasing after her never worked, so he'd come home and sat in his room until I'd arrived back.

As he trailed off, I took his hands in mine. "Dave, I know I'm not always the most sympathetic when it comes down to relationships versus career, but this is such a great opportunity for you. Please don't tell me you're considering not going?"

He instantly shook his head. "No, I think that's why she was so upset. I didn't even consider not taking it. But I want to make it work long distance - I love her, Jane. And it's only half a year, and then I'm back in Edinburgh. She just won't even talk to me right now..." He stopped talking again as more tears trailed down his face. Feeling helpless and angry, I turned to my usual fallback when faced with tears: the magic powers of food.

Dragging him through to the kitchen, I opened the cookie tin and placed it in front of him as I started preparing tea. I'd made a batch of double chocolate cookies the previous night so I knew there were plenty enough there to at least slightly cheer him up. Sugar and sleep: the two great healers in my philosophy!

As I chopped the spring onions and set the pasta cooking, I managed to tease a few more details out of him. The job was in Philadelphia, and it wasn't just him - there were 8 students in total from across the UK, with one other student from Edinburgh joining him out there. It sounded like exactly the kind of work he wanted to be involved in too, and he slowly started talking more excitedly. Plus, as I reminded him, the perfect opportunity for me to take a holiday out and visit him! My dad had accumulated a lot of BA points through various business trips, and had said I could use them whenever I wanted, so flying out there wouldn't break the bank. After he pointed out where Philadelphia actually was in America (my UK geography is already pretty awful, never mind USA geography), and I realised how close it was to New York (home of the magical land of Broadway theatres!), my excitement levels quickly rose to match his. Luckily Dave was one of the rare breed of guys who enjoyed musical theatre too, so I was already planning how many shows we could fit into a week in my head.

As I served the pasta, he brought the conversation back round to Jess. "I can understand why she's upset." Seeing my skeptical look, he frowned at me and continued. "No, seriously. If she told me she was moving halfway across the world with no warning, I'd be pretty upset too. I just wish she'd talk to me about it."

"Well, she has to talk to you, sooner or later. And it's not like you're giving up on you two because of the placement! So really, what you two should be doing is making the most of your time here before you fly off."

He nodded slowly. "I think I'll try and phone her again, and see if she'll let me come round and talk."

I told him that was probably the best idea, and as he headed back to his room I quickly washed up the dishes and changed into my football gear. The temperature was dropping fast at nighttime at the moment, so after throwing on about four layers, I was ready to face the cold, and the match.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bouncing on my feet, I waited for Bruce to throw the ball at me again. Diving to my left and punching it away, I landed on the frozen ground hard. Grateful for all the padding from my multiple layers, I scrambled up and ran after the ball, inwardly berating myself for punching instead of catching. After finally reaching the ball, I picked it up and started jogging back, only to see Hayley standing chatting with Bruce - in full goalkeeper gear.

Feeling sick, I joined them in front of the goals where Hayley was apologising for running late.

"So, last minute change of plans, Jane. Head coach decided that it would be good for both of you to play, so you'll play the first half and Hayley will play the second." Trying to keep tears back, I nodded. I didn't trust my voice as Bruce and Hayley started talking about the other team and the players we'd need watch out for. Slowly, my tears hardened into resolve - so what if I only had 45 minutes to play? The aim was still the same - show that I was good enough.

The first thirty minutes flew by. I was so focused on not messing up, and so far I was managing that - I was picking up loose balls, letting my defence know ASAP of any unmarked players, and my goal kicks were the best they'd been in a while. However, the other team hadn't really had an opportunity to score yet. I couldn't relax and enjoy the game - pure adrenaline was rushing through me, and as the end of the half appeared, the pressure to do something amazing to prove myself mounted.

Suddenly, a girl broke free of the defence, with a winger keeping her company down the left. Our defence were pelting it back down the field towards me, but a quick glance showed me they weren't going to reach me in time. Running out to face the striker, I tried to stay slightly between her and the winger. Two on one was almost impossible to stop for a keeper, but if I could try to get a foot out when she passed it, I could knock the ball off enough for the defence to get back and help.

It wasn't a bad plan. In fact, if that's what the striker had planned on doing, as so many other teams did, it might even have worked. Instead, all I could do was watch as she eyed me and the goals up, and then shot the ball between my legs and into the back of the net.

I'm not sure how I made it until half time, and we were lucky that their goal galvanised our team to keep up an attack until the whistle blew. I didn't hear a word of the half-time team talk, just tried to keep it together. As soon as the second half started, I walked a bit away from the reserves and sat on the grass, ignoring the biting cold of the frost. Bruce noticed, murmuring something to Ryan (our head coach) and headed over to squat down next to me.

"Unlucky about that goal at the end, but otherwise a pretty good half!" He smiled at me but I couldn't fake one back.

"Jane, what's up?" Bruce looked genuinely concerned, and that's all it took. Tears started streaming silently down my face.

"I blew it. I needed to prove myself, I needed to show Ryan that I was good enough to play - all I want is a game Bruce! Just one game! He wouldn't even pick me last week when we played the bottom team in the league. And after that he's not going to pick me against Hayley again." I looked up in time to see Hayley make a fantastic diving save. As much as I wanted to hate her in that moment, I couldn't do anything but respect her talent.

I finally looked Bruce in the eye. "I don't mean to whine, or demand a game. I get it, I really do - she's brilliant, and we need to win the league this year." As Treasurer, I knew how much of a bonus winning the league would be to our finances, and believe me we needed the money.

"It's just... I love football. It makes me feel alive, and I love being part of the team. But this year? I barely know the team because I've not had a single game with them. And I'm not enjoying training or games like this, because all I feel is the pressure to show that I am actually good. Not amazing, not the best keeper we have, because I'm not. I just want to Ryan to feel he can play me in a game against the bottom team of the league, because if he can't trust me there, why am I even in the team?"

Taken aback, Bruce didn't say anything. I hated what I was right now - I was never the crying in public type, and even less so the whinging type. All I wanted to do was head home to bed, curl up with my hot water bottle, and cry where no one could see me. Getting up, I told Bruce I'd see him at training on Monday, and headed back to my bike.


Monday 15 December 2014

Whiskers

Sitting in class, we were playing our new favourite game: lecturer bingo. Or specifically, Fred Bingo. This particular lecturer was one of the fun kind who only worked at a university to do research, and hated all student-related work that was pushed onto them. Considering we'd worked out that he'd plagiarised the entire course from one of our standard textbooks, it wasn't exactly inspiring us to stay interested for the full two hour double lecture.

The only redeeming feature of Fred was that his lectures mainly consisted of him repeating certain 'stock phrases': "one shoe fits all", "all the nitty gritty", and our particular favourite, "BOOM!". One of my friends, Ethan, had started up a bingo game amongst our group, each of us choosing a phrase and counting how many times Fred said it. Bonus points if he used two of them together in a combo, and even better if you asked him a question that he answered with a stock phrase.

Still, even with Fred Bingo keeping us occupied, it couldn't detract from the sheer dullness of his voice and the topic at hand. I already knew that I wanted a job in the energy sector, and the finer points of solids separation in hydrocyclones weren't going to do me much use there. Bob seemed to feel the same way, as he started poking my wrist with his pen. Audibly sighing, I ignored him as he started drawing on the back of my hand and checked the family Whatsapp. Mum had sent me a daily picture of Inka, our border collie, fast asleep under a tree in the garden. Grinning to myself, I messaged her back one-handed asking her to give Inka a cuddle from me. Although I really loved university and the freedom it gave compared to growing up completely isolated in the country, there was always a part of me missing my dog, even more so than the rest of my family. I'd justified it to mum as that I had plenty of other people to talk to, which just made the lack of a furry friend to stroke in the evenings even more conspicuous.

The sudden increase in volume alerted me to the fact that Fred had disappeared for our halfway five minute break - although with Fred's special dedication to our education, it was likely to be more like fifteen. Not that I was complaining! I turned back to see what horrors Bob had drawn on my hand, fully expecting to see some form of male genitalia. I loved my guy friends, but they were seriously predictable at times.

"What... what even is that?" I squinted at my hand, completely confused at the blue mess he'd created. Well, it wasn't a penis. Bob put the pen down and grinned broadly.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Um... no. It really isn't." I twisted my hand, trying to see it at the angle he'd been drawing it from. "Wait... oh no. You haven't... is that a hairy foot?!"

Bob snorted and crumpled over laughing whilst I stared at him in mock horror. I'd made the mistake of walking to uni with both Dave and Bob the previous week, which had mainly involved them repeatedly making hobbit jokes about me (due to the fact that my home county was generally referred to as 'the shire' by locals). It had culminated in Bob asking Dave if my feet really were as hairy as legends told, with them both now trying to convince me to remove my socks around them as often as they could. Have I ever mentioned that my friends are certifiably crazy?

Staring at the (awfully drawn) representation of a hobbit foot on my hand, I failed to mask my sudden fit of giggles. Determined to get my own back, I dived towards Bob's hand with my own pen, but only managed to scratch a few wobbly lines before he was holding me away from him.

"Not fair... That's not how this works!" I struggled against him as he laughed, but as much as my mild feminist hated to admit it, built rugby player was never going to be overcome by tiny Scottish girl, no matter how annoyed.

Sticking out my tongue (I know, mature), I relaxed. "Fine! Have it your way!" As he let me go I leaned down and grabbed my bag, searching through it. I knew it had to be in here somewhere... Bob eyed me suspiciously before Ray asked him a question from his other side. As he turned away, my fingers came into contact with a hard, thin object - yes!

Flicking the lid off, I sat up and drew a long, black and rather permanent stripe down Bob's arm with the marker pen I'd found. He yelped and grabbed his arm, giving me the opportunity to stripe him some more before he realised his mistake. Smirking smugly back at him, I revelled in my victory a bit too long.

Taking me completely by surprise, a hand appeared from behind me and plucked the marker out of my hand. Before I even had the chance to see who it was, my arms were pinned to my side as mystery betrayer held me trapped in my chair. A low laugh behind my head told me all I needed to know - Ethan.

"Uh... Ethan? Could you maybe, you know, let me go?"

"Well, I could... But where would be the fun in that?" As I started protesting that as I'd only got a few stripes in compared to Bob's Middle Earth inspired sketch, a sudden movement to my left caught my eye.

I looked up to see the marker in the last place I wanted it - Bob's hand. My stomach dropped a little in dread - when you wound Bob up he didn't really have many limits, and from his face I could see he was definitely at that point.

"Not the face. Please, anything but the face!" Seeing Bob's eyes light up, I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth.

"So Jane... how do you feel about whiskers?"

My eyes widened and I immediately started shaking my head back and forth so he wouldn't have any steady facial surface to write on, with the additional bonus of whacking Ethan behind me with my ponytail. In terms of a defence mechanism it was pretty pathetic though, as Bob quickly reached out and held my face still with his hand. Shoving away the little thrill of excitement at the sensation of his skin on mine, I glared at him.

"You know I've got football training tonight? I can't turn up with whiskers."

"Your point being..." Bob trailed off as he started colouring my nose in black. I started trying to break free again, but he rapped me on my nose.

"Seriously Jane, think about this. Which would you prefer - beautifully drawn whiskers or black scribbles over your face?"

"He's got a decent point there... Plus, keep hitting me with that ponytail and the scissors are getting involved!" Ethan teased me from behind. At least, I hoped he was teasing. My stubborn part wanted to ignore them but my reasonable voice reminded me that at least whiskers would look marginally better than a permanent black scribble over my face - not to mention, Ethan's hairdressing skills were probably the stuff of nightmares. Accepting my bewhiskered fate, I looked behind Bob to meet Ray's eyes. Whilst he was trying not to laugh, he was also shaking his head at me slowly. Closing my eyes, I screamed at myself silently. Whatever this was, it definitely wasn't backing off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As predicted, I was the centre of entertainment at football training that evening. However, after a brief explanation of how my friends had amused themselves at my expense, the whiskers seemed to lose their novelty and we quickly settled down to training. Unluckily for me, my goalkeeper coach couldn't make training this week so we keepers had to join in with the normal training plan - which today, was circuit training.

Now, there was a reason I became a keeper. Well, the original reason was that my dad became coach of the primary school team, and because I kept kicking the people instead of the ball (demonstrating my excellent co-ordination skills even at such an early age), I got put into goals. Since then it had grown on me - sure, it mainly involved people kicking a hard, painful ball as powerfully as they could at you, but once you lost the fear of being hit it was actually good fun. You had an unparalleled view of the field, and it gave you the perfect opportunity to direct your team and spot any potentially unnoticed plays from your opponent. And, of course, you didn't have to run.

Ninety horrendous minutes later, I was collapsed on the astroturf slowly pulling my football boots off and dreading the cycle home. As I was trying to figure out if the jelly that had replaced my legs would survive even getting on my bike, our head coach called everyone round.

"So, as you girls know, we don't have a league match so I've set up a mid-week friendly. Jane, are you available to play as keeper?"

"Yes! Definitely!" I virtually bounced up beaming, whiskers and leg fatigue forgotten. I hadn't had a chance to play at all yet this season, and I was desperate to show our coach that I was good enough to be picked. This would be my chance!


Sunday 7 December 2014

Back to Routine

Once Bob came back to classes, everything fell back into the normal routine. He still sat next to me in classes, doodled on my notes and teased me over anything and everything, but that's where it stopped this time. No more going round to watch films at the weekend, I started cycling to university instead of walking with him every day, and I told Ray to yell at me if I even hinted at entering awkward territory again.

Besides, fourth year at university was as horrific as people had promised. In Scotland, the Masters degrees take five years to achieve but as half of the final year is spent on placement in industry, the really hard stuff is all combined into this year. In addition, because I'm certifiably insane, I'd asked to shift my workload to 65% : 35% between the two semesters. As I'm convinced that our lecturers hate us, 40% of this year's grade is based on an 11 person design project completed in the second semester. As I'm a complete control freak, I decided I'd rather free up some time to devote myself to the project then, and get the extra classes out of the way now.

However, although it seemed like a good idea at the time, I was regretting it now! I had so many assignments and mini group projects going on at the same time, and on top of that I had football training, my choir and my increasingly failing attempts to keep going to zumba classes. Most of my friends were getting by on pure caffeine but I'd never acquired a taste for coffee, so a combination of sugar, early nights and super long lie-ins at the weekend were keeping me going.

"Jane! So, have you thought about what to get them yet?"

Rubbing my eyes, I resisted the urge to fake bad signal and go back to sleep. Although I loved my sister, phoning before 9am on a Saturday morning went against all that was pure and holy.

"Uggh. Not awake. What are you talking about?"

"Oh my god Jane, you've forgotten! How could you have forgotten? It's only their 50th birthday, it has to be perfect, like absolutely perfect. We've only got two months to get everything ready!"

Again, I have to state I do love Alyssa. When we're not living together or organising presents, we get on like a house on fire. Our mum always raised us to put time into choosing thoughtful gifts for people but with Alyssa it had backfired into her becoming a Giftzilla, to my regular frustration. However, luckily for her I was way too tired to start any fights this morning. And in this case she was actually right - both my parents were turning 50 within a week of each other, so they'd planned a family weekend away at Crieff Hydro, a very posh hotel in the middle of Scotland. Sorting out presents was up to us three kids (myself, Alyssa and our younger brother Peter).

"Ahh. I hadn't forgotten - time is just flying past so quickly, that's all. Let me get up and showered, and then we'll Skype and try and sort something out?"

Slightly pacified, she agreed to at least let me get up and eat breakfast first. Twenty minutes later, all clean and scrubbed, I was poaching a few eggs when Dave wandered in. Dave is one of my flat mates and my best friend - I met him in first year and soon realised he was one of the few people I could deal with talking to early in the morning. When he proposed living together for second year, it was a no brainer. We came from very similar backgrounds, so it felt very normal to share food costs and eat together - something which apparently wasn't the normal thing to do amongst many of my other friends. We also had our Ginger Wednesday night tradition - essentially us taking advantage of the 241 cinema ticket offer that Orange provide every week, but as Dave is perhaps the most ginger person you've ever seen, we had to rename it. It was proving to be an education, as I always preferred musicals and comedy/dramas whilst Dave loved awful action remakes.

However, perhaps the most important thing as to why he was my best friend was that I had absolutely zero romantic attraction to him. In my eyes, he was my elder brother in all but blood.

As Dave greeted me groggily, his girlfriend Jess entered behind him. Giving me a sickly-sweet smile, she asked how university was going. Hiding a grin of my own, I kept my answer brief. Although she was never mean to my face, Dave had moaned repeatedly of how jealous she was of our friendship. In particular, she hated our Ginger Wednesday tradition. Dave had reassured her multiple times that our relationship was like brother and sister, but it didn't seem to help. Unlike the Bob situation, I was certain that I had given her no reason for her jealousy, and it was clear to anyone that Dave was head over heels for her.

"Jane, where's the carrot things? Those cupcakes you made yesterday?" Dave poked his head round into our tiny kitchen and I gestured with my head towards the fridge.

"Dave, are you sure you really need to eat those? Why not just have toast?" Jess tried and failed to sound light-hearted.

"Oh come on babe, they've got walnuts and carrots in them - basically health food! Plus, you need to try one, these are de-licious, Jane's a baking master!"

Laughing, I stepped out into the lounge to let him past. "Can I get that in writing for every time I have a baking disaster? No more teasing me for my epic cake failures ever again!" I goofily started doing a victory dance around the table, stopping abruptly when I saw Jess glaring at me.

"Um, my sister's probably waiting for me, so I'll go eat this in my room..." I grabbed my eggs and toast and scooted out of there as quickly as possible. I don't really understand what Dave sees in Jess, especially with the number of times he's ended up crying on my shoulder after one of their arguments. However, I'm not exactly the Relationship Queen myself, so who am I to say anything?

I powered up my laptop and messaged Alyssa and Peter to let them know I was ready. They immediately video called me back.

"OK, so I figure we need at least one big present each. And then possibly a few joint presents... oh and a cake! And decorations for the lodge we're staying in - I'm thinking balloons, lots of sparkly things - oh, we could put that mini '50' confetti in their presents so it goes everywhere when they open it!"

Opening up a browser window, I started googling whilst Alyssa kept firing suggestions at me. Peter occasionally chimed in, and between us we came up with a good few suggestions. Apparently Dad had already bought Mum a new golf bag and a few clubs on our behalf, so that was Mum's big present sorted. For the first joint present we decided to get a few really nice prints of our dogs, both current and passed away, and luckily we managed to find a few deals online which meant it wouldn't break the bank.

We were struggling for another joint present when Peter suggested Blue Mountain coffee - a coffee that my parents swear by, which they first tried when on holiday to Jamaica for their 40th birthdays. From there the foodie ideas started flowing - cheese from Lancashire where they were born, the local chilli artisan jam my Mum loves so much, the aforementioned coffee, Blackpool rock for Mum and fancy dark chocolate for Dad. Alyssa already had a small hamper so that was that sorted!

The real problem was a big present for my Dad. He is one of those people who will just go and buy whatever he wants, so buying him presents he doesn't already own is always a real pain. Spurred on by our 'food from the past' theme for the hamper, I was running through my favourite memories of my Dad. Suddenly, I had it.

"Peter, remember the 2005 Ashes? When we decided to go down last minute for the last day of the test and ended up with amazing seats? How about we recreate that?"

Peter and Alyssa loved it. The Ashes were returning to England next year and one of the tests was being played in Durham, relatively close to Edinburgh. Of course, we'd have to book the tickets now instead of buying them on the door as we did last time, but I was sure Dad could cope. That day was one of my favourite memories: it was the day I really became interested in cricket, and an amazing experience with my Dad and brother. Cheering on the England teams against the Aussies, the tension as we came so close to winning, and the glorious sunshine - it couldn't have been better. Trying to recreate it was maybe a risky attempt, but I was thinking that if I put the tickets inside a handwritten letter letting Dad know how much that day meant to me, and how much it would mean to spend another day like that with him... well, if that didn't bring a tear to his eye, I don't know what would!

"OK, so Peter, you need to find good photos for the prints. I'll look up the foodie items and start ordering them. Jane, you need to talk to Mum to see if she'll cover the cost of the cricket tickets. Anything else... Oh! Cake!"

"Actually, I might have an idea for that..." I was thinking of Ray - I knew that he was a very accomplished amateur baker, and had often baked cakes for friends and family. From many tasting sessions, I knew his cakes tasted good!

"Just tell me what theme to go for and I'll have a chat with him". We decided on a golf-themed cake, with the flag having a '50' on it. Alyssa reminded me that Mum wasn't too keen on butter-cream icing, so I made a mental note to ask Ray what alternatives he could come up with.

Saying goodbye, I sat back smiling. For once it had actually been a very productive brainstorming session, and when we weren't arguing Alyssa and I were an amazing team. Spinning slowly in my chair, I caught sight of the pile of notebooks waiting for my attention. Groaning, I nipped through to the kitchen and grabbed a carrot cupcake before settling down with my good friends Fluid Mechanics and Equations of State. Who needs caffeine when you have sugar?

Sunday 30 November 2014

Spilling The Beans

My immediate reaction was that I had to apologise to Bob - but not over text, it had to be face to face for something like this. I knew that some people would say that it wasn't me who had to apologise - out of the few people who knew about Lee and I, most said that he was the one in the wrong as he was the one with the girlfriend. I never agreed with that line of thinking. It seemed like an easy way out, when it generally takes two to do anything. As I knew that Lee, and in this case Bob, had girlfriends, I should have removed myself from any inappropriate situation straight away and I am the only person to blame for not doing so.

I nearly went crazy waiting until Monday morning for the chance to speak to Bob. Ten minutes before leaving the flat, I got a text: Sorry, feeling really ill today - must have come down with something! Take notes for me? I stared at the phone in disbelief. How was I going to get through another day knowing that The Conversation still loomed ahead of me?

The answer, as always with me, was throwing myself into my work. I don't think I've ever taken such detailed notes at any other point in my university degree! Luckily I had football training that evening, and despite my usual hatred of running I actually welcomed the physical relief. I'd been playing for the university football team since my first year, and this year for the first time we had a separate goalkeeper coach! There were two goalkeepers in the team - myself and Chloe. Chloe had only joined us this season, and had previously played for a fairly prestigious club so I knew that I was likely to get far less games this season. However, I also knew this was the year that I had to focus on my studies, so in a way it worked out pretty well.

Bruce, our coach, had decided to spring a diving session on us tonight. Not diving like in a swimming pool (although I'm not sure which would be worse or more painful with my sense of balance!) but instead this exercise involved Bruce throwing the ball just beyond our reach to each of the keepers at training. The idea is that we dive smoothly and quickly, coming in to land at a slight angle so that our shoulder takes most of the impact (like a plane landing with the nose end hitting the ground first). Unfortunately, my body never seemed to figure this out. Bruce described watching me in this exercise like 'seeing a sack of potatoes being thrown in the air and landing all at once', and believe me it felt like it. Still, adding to my impressive collection of bruises beat brooding any day!

The next morning I wasn't entirely surprised when this mysterious illness seemed to be continuing. Luckily I had a trump card - Bob still had my notebooks for the classes I had today, so he agreed to meet me at the door on my way past his flat.

As soon as I'd taken the notebooks from his hands, the word vomit started.

"I would have said this earlier but I wanted to say it face to face and this is the first time I've seen you, but I just wanted to completely apologise for what happened on Saturday night. I mean, I know nothing actually happened, but it was still inappropriate for me to be there and I should have gone home, and I didn't mean to cause any kind of trouble for anyone. So, I'm really sorry."

The grin he'd had when he opened the door had slowly disappeared during my spiel.

"No, it's OK. Yeah, I know it was a bit inappropriate, but as you said nothing really happened. So maybe we can try and skip the being awkward stage and go back to being friends?"

I managed a weak grin.

"Sounds good. Um, so. You should probably go back to bed, and I need to get to lectures..."

"Yeah, fair enough. See you later."

I turned and started power walking as fast as I could up the road without falling over myself. I wasn't sure how I expected that to go, especially when it was conducted at the door in a busy street, but I was glad I didn't seem to have lost a friend. However, I knew I would have to keep my distance from now on, for myself as much as anyone else.

As lectures finished, I saw my phone light up on the desk. Seeing Bob's name, I discretely shielded the screen.

Hey... Sorry I didn't say much earlier - I was going to say something myself but you beat me to it. So firstly thank you - it's not an easy thing for anyone to say first and it says a lot about you that you did. You're right, it shouldn't have happened but that's more my fault than anyone's. But as I said, hopefully we can just say it didn't happen and just be friends again?

I jumped when Ray nudged my elbow. Ray is my obligatory gay best friend - or so I like to tease him. He is actually gay and one of my closest friends, and is wonderfully camp with it. His constant frustration is my refusal to colour code my notes during classes, much to his disgust.

"OK, you have to tell me what's going on. You've been away with the fairies since the weekend, and whatever that text was, it wasn't nothing."

I considered bluffing, but I doubted I could have got away with it - Ray knew me far too well. Plus, I really needed to talk it all out with someone.

"Is there nothing I can get away with?" I laughed as Ray smugly shook his head. "OK, I'll tell you over lunch. But let's go somewhere a bit different - I don't want anyone we know to hear."

As we were both finished lectures for the day, Ray gave me a lift back to my flat. There was a new bar around the corner where people had been swearing by their pulled pork, so we decided to check it out. After realising there was a space with sofas downstairs, we sat down and ordered our food: pulled pork burrito for me, and a steak burger with grilled halloumi for Ray.

"This place is amazing! I love what they've done - the bare wood and comfy sofas really work down here..." I trailed off as I noticed Ray giving me the eye.

"Girl. Seriously. We can talk about sofas any time! Get spilling!"

Sighing, I told Ray the whole story. Bob, Ray and I were a pretty tight group at university so he knew all the background, and honestly I needed to know if I'd been behaving inappropriately before the weekend as well. Plus, we knew each other well enough to give our very genuine opinions, which whilst not always appreciated at the time, were always needed.

"I don't know if I'm overthinking all this. I know nothing happened... but I keep putting myself in his girlfriend's shoes. I really don't know which would be worse - if he'd had a drunken one-off night with a girl he didn't know, or having something that was really quite sweet and intimate with one of his closest friends. Well, I know which one I'd find worse - I'd never want him to see that friend again!" I sighed, rubbing my eyes. It had felt good to get it all out, but hearing myself say everything out loud just brought up the guilt again. It was like there was a dragon spitting acid instead of fire inside my stomach.

"Oh, Jane. You're a magnet for drama, aren't you?"

Happy that he didn't seem to be judging me too harshly, I smiled back. "Believe me, I've had my fill of drama over the last few months! First Lee, now this... My love life used to be so boring, I almost miss it!"

"Well, you're not boring any more! Anyway - my opinion on all of this? Well, it's not as bad as you're making it out to be. You guys didn't even make out - high school kids are going further than you two! But you two definitely need to take some space. The tension between you and Bob has been crazy since we started the semester-"

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, anyone can see it Jane. You're basically at your own secret language with the number of in-jokes you have." He held his hand up as I tried to protest. "Wait, let me finish. I'm not saying you've been making moves on a taken guy - I know you, and you would never let yourself consciously do that. And this weekend aside, Bob's a decent guy too. He's trying to make this long-distance thing work. What I'm saying is that you've both been deluding yourself that your friendship is completely platonic and 'safe', and that's why this weekend happened."

He watched me as I stared at my lap. Like I said - the honesty with us wasn't always easy to hear, but he was right.

"I guess the big question is - do you have feelings for him?"

And there it was. The question I'd been avoiding even asking myself. The reason why all of this was bothering me so much, why I was feeling so guilty over everything.

"I... yes. If he didn't have a girlfriend, I'd be head over heels for him. However, he does. And I can't ever be the person to ruin that for him, after everything with Lee-"

"Yes, yes, I know all about your 'other woman' hang-ups! And you know I think you're ridiculous, the world isn't black and white and all that, but we don't need to have this conversation again."

Ray was very much of the opinion that I worried over matters too much (quite possibly true) and that I was way too hung up over my 'black and white' viewpoint of relationships. He saw cheating as a natural consequence of a relationship breaking down, whilst I saw it as a moral flaw in a person's character. We agreed to disagree, but he liked to make the point every now and again.

"Ha, very true. The point is now, what do I do?"

 "You do what you were planning, dear. You back off - and this is for your own good more than anything. I don't want to see you getting hurt, you deserve much better."

I smiled across at him. If one good thing had come out of all of this, it had reminded me what a great friend I had in Ray.

"Still, if he's having to choose between whatsherface and you, I'm in your court every time!"

Horrified, I swatted him on the arm. "Oi, you can't say things like that! I'm not making him choose!"

"Whatever you say, dear - but I know the truth!" He stage-whispered across the table at me, trying to wink suavely and failing miserably. Laughing, we teased each other for a few minutes longer before Ray had to head back home.

Walking up the staircase to my third storey flat (which whilst providing me with excellent leg muscles, always turns into a horror comedy at move-out time with the amount of books I hoard through the year), I thought over what Ray had said. Finally admitting I had feelings for Bob had been a big step for me; I'm very good at burying away feelings I don't like and refusing to acknowledge them. Still, it didn't help the situation at all. Thinking of the two years still left of the degree, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Two years of trying to ignore my feelings - what could possibly go wrong?

Sunday 16 November 2014

Once Burned, Twice Shy

I met Lee when I started university: fresh-faced, seventeen and never been kissed. It wasn't exactly how I'd always imagined meeting my first boyfriend... The guy next door to me in halls invited me over to meet some friends, and somehow we ended up playing strip poker. I am in no way an exhibitionist, and especially so at that point: the lack of any male attention throughout high school meant that I had very little self-confidence in my body image. In hindsight, it was one of those scenarios where no one really wanted to play, but the pressure of 'Fresher's Week at university', that mythical time when all students were meant to be pulling new and crazy stunts, meant that an awkward shuffling after the half-hearted suggestion led to us actually playing it.

Despite my reservations, my competitive streak was not to be beaten. I started off with an excellent running streak - which meant that when I started losing, I had successfully half stripped the rest of the crowd, and they were out for revenge. Lee in particular had it out for me. Admiring a fellow competitive spirit, I surprisingly found myself increasingly interested in him. He wasn't at all what I'd always described my ideal guy to be - I liked cheekbones, short but scruffy hair, someone who could sing (with many fantasies of someone one day asking me out via the medium of song - a girl can but dream!). Lee had long, dark and slightly greasy hair in a ponytail, one of those skinny and slightly sallow complexions and seemed to have a preference for black clothing with chains. He was like no one I'd ever known.

Technically my next door neighbour lost the game first, but he flat out refused to remove his jeans. When it came to me next, I couldn't face looking like a coward, but the entire atmosphere changed as soon as I undid my belt. To my great relief we decided the game could end there, and from that night on our group was inseparable.

Katie was the other girl in the group, and we got on relatively well considering we had very little in common. It was a week or so later that I finally found out about Lee and Katie's history, walking back from a disastrous but entertaining pub quiz attempt.

"So, I think Lee and I might be going out again." Katie dropped the bombshell casually into our conversation. I kept my face absolutely still, trying not to show how accurately she'd tossed that emotional grenade. Lee and I had been having lots of late night Facebook chats - nothing too risque, but his flirty comments and my bumbling attempts to reciprocate had been the highlights of each day. The more I found out about him the more I liked - his sense of humour, the way he could take on my teasing and give it right back, the way he could turn stories from his childhood into hilarious anecdotes. And the attention was addictive.

"Oh! Um... again? You've been out before?" Luckily I managed minimal stuttering.

"Oh yeah, we've been out heaps of times. We're one of those on-off couples - we went to the same boarding school. We broke up last year when I started going out with Colin, but he was a complete dick so that ended before university. And we're both here and single again, so I guess it was inevitable!"

"Oh." It was taking all my energy not to cry. To my seventeen year old self, it seemed too cruel. I wanted to yell at Katie, "You've had him before! You seem to have had half of the town from the way you talk! Why, for once, can't it be me?" 

The next day, walking to breakfast with my next-door neighbour, I casually brought up the topic with my usual subtlety.

"So... did you know Lee and Kirsty were a thing?" I tried to keep my tone nonchalant and light, not like my heart was thundering in my chest.

"Oh for God's sake. Not again! Are you serious?" He snorted, shaking his head despairingly.

Taken aback, words deserted me. "Uh, what?"

"Let me guess, you heard Katie's side... What did she tell you?"

"That they were an on-off type of couple, and that she broke up with her ex before uni... Why, what's the rest of the story? Spill!"

"Ah, not quite the whole story. So, they went to the same boarding school and started going out years ago. But from what Lee says, Katie isn't exactly the faithful type. She finds a new guy she likes, dumps Lee and goes out with him until he gets sick of her bullshit. Then she runs straight back to Lee, repeat cycle. He's been her fallback guy three or four times now, but he seems besotted with her. It's a real shame, if you ask me."

Not the whole story indeed. Suddenly, Katie wasn't looking too good in my eyes. Sure, I might be naive and lack relationship experience, but I still knew right from wrong and treating a guy like that wasn't what a decent person did.

Fast forward a month. Lee and Katie were definitely going out again - it was hard not to see that they were with Katie seriously loving the PDA. My late night chat sessions with Lee continued but I'd convinced myself that he wasn't flirting - after all, how was I to know the difference between flirting and being friendly?

Both being engineers, Lee and I shared many of the same first year classes. One day after we'd spent an hour trying to balance jelly beans on our heads instead of listening to the lecture on the exact wave movements required for wave energy regeneration techniques to work, I was heading back to my room for an afternoon nap whilst Lee had one of his rare lectures without me. Halfway home, my phone buzzed with a text from him: Mind if I drop past later? Can't figure out our maths homework, and you always make the equations easier to bear ;)

Despite myself, my brain went into overdrive trying to analyse the text. Could it possibly mean that he was interested? But he was with Katie! But then again, she didn't deserve him with the way she'd treated him - and surely I deserved at least one chance with a guy? And maybe he did just want homework help, after all I was the go-to person for homework and revision help in our group. Praying that I wasn't doing the wrong thing - and not sure if I even knew what the wrong thing was any more - I texted back telling him to come around whenever he wanted.

True to his word, Lee appeared at my door a few hours later. Sitting cross-legged on my bed, looking as if I'd been doing anything except obsessing, I patted the space next to me. Bringing out his notebooks, he sat down. Internally I gave a small sigh of disappointment, albeit tinged with relief - which instantly disappeared when he turned, pushed me back against the wall and kissed me.

"You didn't really think I was just coming over to do homework, did you?" He murmured into my ear, running his fingers along my arm, then under my shirt, across my stomach, leading upwards. "I think I should go lock the door..."

I'd like to say I stopped him, or at least pulled back in a semblance of doubt. I'd like to say I sent him out of the door and was never again found in even the slightest inappropriate situation.

But I can't.

I don't know what exactly turned me from someone who always believed very clearly in right and wrong from someone who fully and enthusiastically became an accomplice to cheating. I can name some of the factors - the irrational voice in my head telling me that if I didn't do this now, then I'd never be with a guy; the fact that I genuinely disliked Katie; the curiosity to find out what sex was actually all about; maybe just the simple fact that I had a hot and very interested guy in my bed, and for all my talk of being a strong, independent woman, the reality was that I'd fold with the smallest of temptations.

Any joy I received from that night was turned to ashes when Katie knocked on my door the next day in tears, telling me that Lee had broken up with her. I've never felt like such a shit example for a human being as I did that day, comforting Katie on the very bed where I'd slept with her boyfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lee and I became a proper couple just before Christmas that year. I never fully forgave myself, and only managed to start the process once we found out that Katie had (again) already been cheating on Lee with someone. She started going out with him less than a week after she was crying on my shoulder. I knew that two wrongs didn't cancel each other out, but seeing her move on so quickly helped lessen the overbearing guilt.

Eventually I told myself that I couldn't change the past - it was done, and over with, and in all honesty the consequences could have been much worse. The only thing I could do was try to atone with my behaviour in the future - by promising myself that I would never let myself get into any compromising situation with a taken man. I could never make up for my mistake, but I could make sure that I'd never hurt another woman like that again. I couldn't be responsible for that level of pain in a person - how could I respect myself as a person if I did?

Knowing how I tortured myself over this, it should have been an easy promise to keep.


Sunday 9 November 2014

There's a Fine, Fine Line...

I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a tinge of discomfort walking up to his flat. Very late at night, offering to watch my all-time favourite film - I'm not an idiot! But it could be fine, I reassured myself. We're mates, I'm basically a guy to him, and I can always leave if things get awkward. With my flat less than two minutes away and my talent for running away the moment a situation becomes awkward, it would be fine.

Besides, he was probably just a bit lonely. I knew that Priscilla had graduated earlier this year and could only find a job down south, so they'd been trying out the long distance thing. Bob tried to put on a brave face but I could tell it was killing him. It didn't help that as an eldest child, it was basically preprogrammed into me to look after friends and family in distress. I always got teased for being the 'mum' of our friend group, but I figured helping them in any way was worth the loss of my (admittedly non-existent) street cred.

"Misty's upstairs but we'll need to take her out the back, wait here a second?" asked Bob. I nodded, looking forwards to finally getting to meet her. Not wanting to boast, but I had a little of the Dog Whisperer magic in me - I'd never yet met a dog who could resist me. Now, if only that worked on men!

A furry white ball of fluffiness catapulted down the stairs and slid to my feet. Misty was a Westie terrier, which normally wasn't one of my favourite breeds but she was an adorable exception. Crouching down, I let her sniff my hand before scratching the special spot behind all dogs' ears. Hearing a chuckle, I looked up to see Bob laughing away at the puddle of canine happiness in front of me.

"So, I get to keep her, right?" I grinned up at him. He smiled and shook his head before turning and heading out the back door. "He thinks I'm kidding but we know the truth..." I whispered to Misty, straightening up and shooing her out of the door. Following her, my eyes took a second to adjust to the pitch darkness of the garden and the first step down took me completely by surprise. Lurching forwards, I didn't even have time to yelp before I felt hands grab my waist.

"Woah! Elegant as ever, Jane..." Lifting me down the three steps to the grass despite my protestations, he dumped me on the lawn and ruffled my hair. "Ah, how boring would things be without you trying to injure yourself every two minutes?"

"I would have you know that it is very dark coming into the garden, and utterly plausible that that could happen to anyone, clumsy or otherwise..." I tried to keep a straight face before bursting out giggling. "Who am I kidding, I'm a walking disaster. It's a miracle I didn't break anything." Plonking myself down on the wooden bench, I sighed and stared up at the stars. Being in the middle of Edinburgh, you rarely get a great view due to all the light pollution, but tonight they were looking especially beautiful. Lost in my thoughts, I failed to see Bob finding a chewed rugby ball in the bushes and then chucking it at my head.

"Ouch! You menace! You're going to regret that!" I grabbed the ball from the ground and threw it to Misty. "Run girl! Hide it far away from your horrible petsitter! Go bury it in a hole!" Misty yapped once before picking it up and dropping it right at Bob's feet.

The next half hour passed in a blur of throwing the rugby ball at each other and the dog, and chasing her around the garden to get it back. Eventually I collapsed back onto the bench, arms wrapped around the ball. Bob sank down next to me.

"That's it. No more running!" I panted slightly. I like to think I keep myself vaguely in shape through playing sports, but I'm no fitness enthusiast by a long way. Trying to cool down, I took my jacket off and put it on the bench. "Please don't let me forget my jacket - my keys are in there, if I lose them I'm not getting home tonight!" I joked to Bob. He narrowed his eyes, then reached behind me to steal my jacket. Cursing him, I dropped the ball and play-wrestled him for my jacket back. He quickly gave up, but kept his arm lying across my shoulders. Whilst we chatted aimlessly about Misty destroying the ball and the flat party we could hear across the garden, inside an epic battle was occurring between the side of my brain screaming at me to put some distance between us and the part yelling back that nothing inappropriate was happening.

Eventually it started getting chilly, so we headed up to the flat. Whilst Bob rummaged through the DVDs, I took the opportunity to lounge out over the entire couch with Misty on my stomach.

"My sofa, my dog. You should basically just move out now," I teased Bob.

"Haha, very funny. By the way, you need to move."

"Nope. Not moving. Hey, wait - you can't - argh!" I shot up just before Bob sat on my head. Although most of our friendship is based on us winding each other up, I always forget that Bob isn't afraid to take it further than I will. If I hadn't moved, I'd have a pretty squashed head right now.

"Fine! If you won't let me have the sofa, then you're being my cushion." He looked at me bemused as I lay straight back down, using his shoulder as my pillow. Immediately I started kicking myself internally for potentially crossing into inappropriate regions again, but Bob didn't seem to mind as he threw a blanket over us to stay warm and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

In any case, the film had started and I was immediately distracted. The Phantom of the Opera has to be my all-time favourite film, musical, soundtrack - whatever aspect, it's utterly amazing. The best way I've ever found to describe it (in contrast to my usual incomprehensible mumbling and arm waving when asked why I love it so) is "the most passionate and heart-wrenching love story ever told through the most beautiful music ever written".

It was about halfway through the film when I felt his hand brush mine under the blanket. The mental battle began again, paralysing me. A minute later, his hand brushed mine again. Not looking at him, I inched my hand closer. He wrapped his pinkie slowly around mine and stroked my palm with his thumb. I could feel my entire body relaxing - despite only breaking up with Lee last week, it had been some time since I'd experienced this kind of simple, physical intimacy, the kind that doesn't expect anything back, and until now I hadn't realised how much I missed it. The screaming voice in my head briefly beaten, I promised myself that I would leave if he tried to kiss me. That would be the limit, the point when it went beyond anything purely friendly.

As the film came to an end with nothing more happening, we heard Gary coming into the flat. Sitting bolt upright as he came through the door, I probably had the worst 'don't look guilty' face ever. Weirdly, he didn't seem to notice anything, chatting with Bob for a bit before wishing us both goodnight. Maybe I was being stupid - overthinking it as I always do?

Smiling ruefully to myself, I looked over at Bob as I reached for my shoes.

"Ugh. Too late. I really need to head back to my bed."

He half-smiled back at me. "Probably a good plan. Text me when you get back safe, yeah?"

"You do realise my flat is barely two minutes from yours? And how ridiculous you're being?"

"What can I say, my mother raised me well! Text me. Or else I'm keeping you awake all night by texting you Ed Sheeran lyrics." Bob was the biggest fan of Ed Sheeran, and was on a mission to convert me too, with minimal success as of yet. Secretly, I had to admit he wasn't bad, but no way was I letting Bob know that!

"Amazingly, I can foil your evil plan with this fantastic invention called 'putting your phone on silent', but if you insist, I'll let you know!" I called up to him as I headed down the stairwell. Ten minutes later I was curled up in bed having downed a pint of water (I'd never yet had an awful hangover but I was terrified of what one would be like, so water after a night out was always a necessity). Hearing my phone buzz, I opened the text to see "I'm gonna pick up the pieces, and build a lego house...".

Letting out a giggle, I replied. "Go to sleep, mental case. All safe and curled up in bed, despite the attempts of the escaped tiger, the pirate deserters and the ninjas who all accosted me on the long, long journey across the road."

As I was about to fall asleep, my phone buzzed again. Groaning, I rolled over. "Haha, I see you're learning well from the Sarcasm Master. Goodnight, padawan." Grinning, I turned over and fell fast asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I woke up in the morning, the first thing that struck me was how bone-dry my mouth was. Gulping down a glass of water, I silently congratulated myself on how non-hangover-ish I was feeling, dehydration aside. Shuffling back to my room, the events of last night suddenly crashed into me. Guilt struck, my stomach twisted, and I ran to the bathroom. Sitting with my head on the edge of the bath trying not to throw up, tears ran down my face. In the cold, and more importantly sober, light of morning, last night had most certainly not been appropriate.

But that wasn't the worst part. It was bad, definitely, but what was worse was that I'd broken my promise to myself. How could I have let myself take steps towards being the other woman yet again?




Sunday 2 November 2014

Lessons In Alcohol

"You have to be kidding. It's a Saturday night, you don't have any work to do, you're newly single - you're coming with us!"
"He's absolutely right. Get changed right now or we'll be carrying you down those stairs - and you know we can do it..."

I started laughing at the two guys in front of me holding my front door open. I'd told Bob that he could nip round to borrow my class notes, but I hadn't expected an ambush from him and his flatmate Gary. Glancing down at my fuzzy dressing gown and slippers, I sighed. Somehow, my cosy night with my Toblerone, hot water bottle and the latest Brandon Sanderson book seemed to be disappearing faster than the Wicked Witch of the West in a swimming pool.

"Fine, fine - sounds like I don't have a choice against you two nutcases. Give me ten mins and I'll meet you outside your flat?"

Following muttered threats about what would happen if I wasn't there, the boys finally let me shut the door. Luckily for me, I'd never been one of those girls who took hours to get ready - my 'shoe collection' consisted far more of various football boots, trainers and jazz shoes. Throwing on my only pair of black jeans, one of my nicer tops and my boots, I made it outside to their flat with two minutes to spare. Shaking my head at myself as I sat on their wall, I wondered what I was doing. I didn't 'get' alcohol - I hated the dizzy out-of-control feeling it gave me, and if I was being really honest there were very few nights out I'd genuinely enjoyed. Give me a flat party with my mates and our stupid conversations anytime! However, since Bob had moved into a flat the street over from mine, he'd decided it was his "duty" to teach me the true joys of alcohol. Since there had always been that nagging voice in the back of my head that somehow I wasn't seeing what everyone else seemed to enjoy so much about getting drunk, I figured why not? And it wasn't like we were heading to one of the more upmarket clubs with their awful beats music (yes, I know I'm essentially an old woman already), we were off to the union's famed cheesiest music night in existence. Whilst normally my dance moves involve me scheming how quickest to get off the dance floor without anyone noticing, give me some YMCA or macarena and I'm right in there!

"Theeeere she is!" Bob and Gary came bounding out of their flat. "So, where first?" I smiled up at them. At five foot four on a course that is 85% guys (all of whom are giants), I've got pretty used to being the midget of the group. Bob checked his phone. "Well, the girls are already at Benny's, so let's go!". By 'the girls', Bob meant the girls rugby team he and Gary coached. I'd never actually met them before, but after playing football for years I knew most sports teams were a friendly bunch. Taking a deep breath and wistfully thinking of my duvet, I headed off with the boys.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As much as I hated to admit it, I was actually having a pretty good time. Despite still not particularly enjoying the cider and black that seemed to be the staple for our group (which also included being teased a fair amount for repeatedly asking the bartender to put more blackcurrant into the cider - what can I say, I've got a sweet tooth), it had disappeared pretty quickly between Gary and Bob egging me on in the various drinking games. The girls were a great bunch too - they'd completely accepted me into their group and we were singing away to each other on the dance floor. Glancing at my phone, I saw it was about half one in the morning. Still pretty early, but I could tell I needed to get to my bed soon if I didn't want to be napping in a corner of the bar. Squeezing round to Bob, I yelled in his ear that I was heading off. He nodded, so I turned and made my way to the exit. As I was leaving through the door, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Whirling around, I saw Bob there with his jacket.

"What, you thought I'd let you walk home alone at this hour?"

I smiled a little uncomfortably. I knew it was just because he was a nice guy, but the whole 'girls need to be looked after' thing grated on me. It's a difficult one, and maybe it was a result of having a very safe upbringing and having a fierce independent streak, but when my flat was ten minutes away it seemed a tad unnecessary. 

"Are you sure? Seriously, don't let me drag you away from having a good night out..."

"Nah, I was kind of done anyway. Besides, I'm looking after my parents' dog for the weekend and she'll be desperate to get out the flat by now."

Feeling a bit silly, I followed him outside. And honestly, it would be nice to have company walking home. The night had been fun but you rarely get a chance to properly talk at a club, which is probably why I've never really enjoyed them. Plus, Bob was great chat. Despite being on the same degree, I'd only really got to know him in the last few months, but it had been one of those meetings where you just know you're going to get on like a house on fire. There hadn't even been that worry about any awkward attraction getting in the way - we were both in two year relationships, and happy (or so I had thought). He'd also been there for me through everything in the last week when I finally decided to dump my ex, Lee. By which I mean, he'd bought me mountains of chocolate which, for me, engenders life long appreciation and respect.

"So, are you actually going to turn up to class this week or...?" I teased Bob, grinning at him.

"Shhhh! I will, it's just this stupid plumber taking so long to sort the bathroom and Gary is completely useless..."

"Suuure, always an excuse! What will it be next time? Ceiling fallen in? Oven exploding?"

Bob was renowned in our class for always having some domestic emergency happening. To be fair, I think his flat is actually cursed and Gary is the least helpful person in a crisis, but that definitely didn't get him off the hook for a whole lot of teasing.

"Yeah yeah, like I'm actually missing much anyway. What was it today - thermodynamics?"

He suddenly jumped on a bench and took a dramatic pose, mimicking our Italian genius-but-clueless lecturer. "Eeet goes hot, eeet goes cold! Eees trivial!"

I burst out giggling - Bob has the worst 'generic foreign accent' ever, but always seems to think he's some kind of accent expert. "Get down you nutcase! If you fall off and break something then you're being left here, OK?"

He held a hand to his heart, looking shocked. "You... You mean... You'd abandon me? You'd abandon such a kind, generous, funny, talented, and incredibly handsome specimen such as myself?"

I gave him The Look. "Don't flatter yourself, I see you first thing in the morning heading to class every day. The gloss wore off a long time ago!"

Pretending to stalk off without him, I realised we were at the end of my road.

"So, I should head u-"

"Do you want to come watch a film?"

"What?"

"Well, I've got Phantom of the Opera on DVD, and since you go on about it all the time, I figured I should probably see what you've been nattering on about. Plus, you can come meet the dog?"

If anyone ever wants to know how best to wrap me round their finger, that was probably it. Musicals -and not just any musical, the best musical ever written - and a new dog to meet? All I'm saying is that I should never be left in charge of any government secrets because that is all it would take...

I glanced up at my flat. To be honest, I'm not really a late night person but not even the lure of my cosy bed could beat the deadly singing and canine combination.

"Fine, fine. Lead the way!"


Monday 19 May 2014

Introduction to my life!

I've been playing around with the idea of creating a blog for a while, so here goes!

Although much of the blog is based on real-life events that happened to me, I'll be taking a fair amount of dramatic license to ensure the storyline is always moving. All names based on real people are changed (including my own!). Once I've got enough posts written I'll come up with a posting schedule, but until then it'll be a little ad hoc.

So enough about all that - more importantly, who is the blog about?

It's about Jane - a young 20-something midway through studying for a engineering-related degree in Scotland. Although she has a deeply romantic streak, she's also fiercely independent and always holds herself back from fully committing to anything too intimate. She's a huge musical theatre geek, loves playing football, and her dream is to make her fortune in engineering before retiring and looking after dogs for people going on holiday (did I also mention she's a little bit OCD when it comes to planning everything out?).

She's never had great luck with guys, little does she know that she's about to enter a fairly dramatic couple of years. Sit back, enjoy, and welcome to the crazy!