Saturday 31 January 2015

The Twins

For a long, long time, my dad's parents had been a source of contention in our house. You could guarantee that at least 75% of all arguments came about because of them - whether it was something they'd done, or just the anger that talking about them caused.

It hadn't always been that way. I remember when I was very young, I used to love visiting them in England. They always had two beautiful beagles that I would play with for hours, and my grandad was the epitome of the jovial, red-faced grandfather.

Then, when I was six, something happened. I never found out exactly what it was - only that my dad had been down visiting them, and when he came home it was like they didn't exist. We didn't see them, we didn't talk to them. We didn't get Christmas or birthday presents, and we never talked about them.

I didn't mind too much - living so far away from them, we'd only visited grandparents a few times a year, and although I enjoyed it I didn't have that close a connection. Plus, clearly they'd done something really bad to upset my dad so much, and I would always take my dad's side over theirs.

The silence lasted seven years until I was thirteen, when my parents sat me down in the kitchen and explained that grandad had tried to commit suicide. Or, attempted suicide, as my mum stressed - he'd left a very clear trail so that it would have been very difficult not to find him in time. However, with my grandad now recovering and on medication, my dad decided that it was time to talk to them again.

So, back down we went to England. We decided to meet in a local pub. It was a bit surreal seeing them walk in - they barely looked like they'd aged from my fuzzy memories. As we got up to greet them, I went to hug granny - the usual greeting I'd give to family. As I leaned in, she pushed my head back sharply so that she could kiss me on the lips. I was taken aback and not particularly pleased about it - I was at the age where kissing people was weird, especially people I barely knew - but I screwed my eyes shut and suffered through it until she let me go.

Alyssa was next. Again, granny grabbed her and leaned in, but Alyssa freaked out and pushed her away, stumbling backwards. Seeing my dad glare at her, she looked down at her feet and then shyly smiled at granny, mumbling, "Sorry... I don't like kissing people, it's yucky." I couldn't really blame her - if my memories of my grandparents were fuzzy, hers were virtually nonexistent.

Granny had been staring at her in silent outrage during the few moments since Alyssa had pushed her away. As soon as Alyssa finished speaking, she narrowed her eyes and started jabbing her finger towards my sister's face.

"You should be sorry! That is disgraceful behaviour, what kind of little girl doesn't want to kiss her grandmother? Apologise again, and properly this time!"

Granny wasn't bothering to keep her voice down, and most of the pub had turned to stare in disbelief at this lady berating a young child in public. By this point Alyssa had burst into tears and hidden her face in my mum's jumper, scared of this strange woman yelling at her.

Luckily, dad managed to calm granny down and the rest of the meeting went as smoothly as it could, but Alyssa refused to say anything until we left. I found out later that afterwards granny spoke to my dad and insisted that he make Alyssa apologise as soon as possible for her rude behaviour, completely unable to understand that as an adult, she should be apologising to Alyssa. To this day, she still insists that she did nothing wrong, and that a bit of public embarrassment is essential to a child's upbringing.

That really started the animosity between Alyssa and my grandparents. It was only aggravated when mum began to let slip details of how they'd treated her throughout her married life. Apparently they'd always disliked my mum, and made no secret of the fact. Little things to start with - such as never receiving a Christmas present from them despite being with my dad since secondary school.

Bigger things too - one that always stuck with me was their reaction when my parents started living together. My dad had moved to Scotland whilst my mum was still in England, and it reached the point where the relationship was either going to end, or move to the next level. After my dad proposed in a handwritten letter with a rose, in a rare romantic gesture from him, he invited my mum to come and live with him in his house. A house, you should know, that had been bought with significant financial help from my grandparents.

And as soon as they found out my mother was living there? They immediately demanded that my parents pay them back every single penny they'd put towards the house. It also turned out that the reason we cut contact with them? They finally said something about my mum which pushed my dad over the edge. He's never revealed what it was, but anything that created seven years of silence is something I never want to know.

More recently, when my mum was struggling with my maternal grandmother's diagnosis of Alzheimer's, my grandad told her in a phonecall to stop 'making up symptoms for sympathy and attention; it is not becoming in a grown woman.' From that point on, my mother joined Alyssa in their refusal to speak to them.

And me? Well, as you know, I hate family contention. I could completely understand why Alyssa and mum hated them so, and honestly I hated them too for how they'd treated my mum. However, I could see how much it hurt my dad - despite everything they'd done, they were still his parents, so for his sake I still saw and spoke to them. I perfected my smiling, friendly mask, asked about how they were doing, and this way I soon became their favourite grandchild.

It wasn't something I wanted. They would give me extra money for Christmas and birthday presents, which unsurprisingly wasn't well received by Alyssa and Peter. I always shared out the extra - I didn't want to be the one in the spotlight, I didn't want their favouritism. Couldn't they see that by making me the 'special' one, it just caused unnecessary issues? Shouldn't all grandchildren be loved equally?

It was also around this time that I began to realise what incredible, awful snobs they were. Every time we visited them for lunch, granny would make the biggest deal about how all the food was bought from Waitrose because Tesco just 'wasn't up to scratch with the masses all buying there'. One year I asked for the new electronic 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' game for Christmas, excited over having an electronic game - with flashing lights no less! Bearing in mind I was 12 at the time, come Christmas I got a box of the right size... and opened it to find the adult 16+ game, with a note detailing of how children should be pushed to fulfil their full potential, and to see beyond the flashing lights to find true knowledge and purpose. Unsurprisingly, after a couple of games where none of us could answer any of the questions, the game quietly gathered dust in a cupboard until it was thrown away.

And I know this all sounds a bit churlish. At least they bought me presents, I hear you say. And you're right - but what began to eat at me, was a sense that they didn't care. That to them I wasn't a child, but a trophy - something to show off to their friends, to make them look good. To raise them yet again above 'the masses' because how many people had a grandchild who could consistently get the top grades in her class, who played football yet still played an instrument and did musical theatre? No one else's grandchild was as good as theirs - in anyone else a proud comment, a loving comment to make, but for them a cold superiority.

Fast forward to when I was applying to university, and had received offers from my top two choices: Edinburgh or Cambridge. I was invited down to England to see a cricket match with them and my dad, and remembering how much fun I'd had with my dad sitting amongst the cheering crowd at the Ashes the year before, I was actually looking forwards to going.

However, I should have known. Not for them the seats amongst the common crowd, no, only the most expensive tickets possible in the VIP box. In the private room I was surrounded by people four times my age subtly cutting each other down over expensive clothing, jewellery, cars. I went outside and sat alone at the front of the box, trying to pretend that I was down in the crowds, only caring about the sport and not how much money I'd made the previous month. It slightly sickened me that people would pay so much money for these tickets (and believe me I knew how much they'd cost, as it was virtually the only thing grandad had talked about), only to not even bother watching the match.

As I headed back inside, my stomach sank as I saw grandpa gesturing me over to the table, with a large bottle in his hand. Clinking a glass, the attention of everyone in the room swung to him as he drunkenly praised me for my "exceedingly excellent" grades last year, and asked everyone to join him in a toast to "Cambridge's newest and brightest jewel, if she knows what's good for her!". Mortified, I tried to sink into my seat as he presented me with a cheque for £500. Without even asking I knew that Alyssa and Peter hadn't got a penny off them. And just as I thought it was over, he swung the bottle of "extremely expensive!" champagne over and presented it to me, as "a token of our admiration!".

It was the final straw for me. I was, and had always been, teetotal. I hated the taste of alcohol, what it did to people, and had repeatedly talked about this with my grandparents. By repeatedly, I mean putting it into every single conversation with them as they always seemed bemused by my refusal to drink glasses and glasses of wine over meals. I had thought that maybe repetition would finally make them listen.

But no. Why would it matter about taking the person into consideration when you can use them as a prize, as a "shining jewel" to present and show off in front of a room of people as shallow as they were? A chance to flash how much money they had but hide it behind "celebrating our granddaughter"? To my dad's credit, for once he realised what his parents had done and we were able to escape pretty soon after that. As soon as we'd dropped them off I burst into tears, and sobbed most of the way home. I'd never been so humiliated, shown off like a prize pig to complete strangers. For the first time in my life I was ashamed of doing well at school, ashamed of my grades and all my extracurricular activities, and I hated them for it.

It was pretty soon after that incident that I rejected Cambridge and accepted Edinburgh. I would like to say that I was already 80% certain of Edinburgh before, due to so many things - being closer to home, Edinburgh's balance of greenery and town, and of course the brilliant Edinburgh Fringe Festival. However, that sealed the remaining 20% almost instantly. The thought of them being able to boast about their Cambridge star made my stomach turn over, and I gained a perverse pleasure out of knowing they'd now never be able to say that about me ever again.

Which brings us up to today. Alyssa and my mum refusing to speak to them, and me hating them but still agreeing to see them for my dad's sake. After I rejected Cambridge and they noticed how well Peter was doing at school, he has replaced me as favourite grandchild. He's quite pleased about it all - not through any love of them, but he is very fond of the extra money that position comes with. As we still try to be careful of my dad's feelings and not create unnecessary drama, my mum came up with a code name: "The Twins".

It comes from a beautiful book and upcoming film entitled The Art of Racing in the Rain, and the following quote sums them up quite completely.

"Enzo referred to Eve's parents, Maxwell and Trish, as the "evil twins" because they look the same and act the same. They always get mad at Eve for marrying Denny. They lived in a fancy house and nothing was ever good enough for them."

I decided that if I was never good enough for them, then I'd consider that a life well lived. I swore that I would never become like them, that I would never, ever consider myself 'above others' or in any way more important than someone else because of material possessions and wealth.

It's awful to admit, but occasionally I daydream of the day my dad dies, in a world where they're still living. And finally, at the funeral, there would be nothing holding me back. No more mask. No more faking it whilst screaming at them on the inside - no, this time I could let it all out, let them know exactly what I think of them and how from that moment on, they were no family of mine.

Of course, I don't want my dad to die - I'll be devastated the day that he does. But when I'm sitting there, listening to them complain over the influx of dirty immigrants or wax eloquent over my brother's desire to be a doctor (imagine that, Doctor Peter!), it's pretty much the only thing that keeps me smiling. And the fact they can make me smile over imagining my dad's death is just one more thing to hate them for.

Saturday 24 January 2015

All That Is Gold, Does Not Glisten

It was Tuesday evening before I had a response from Gary. I'd just got home from my weekly pop choir rehearsal, my head filled with various bass harmonies for U2's "With Or Without You". Not to blow our own horn, but it had sounded pretty amazing by the end of the session! Our choir leader was debating mashing it up with Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds" - I had no idea how she was going to do it, but we had full faith in her genius musical abilities to pull something brilliant out of the bag. The choir was definitely one of the highlights of my week - I'd been involved with every singing group at my school, even setting up an a cappella group in my final year, but Edinburgh didn't offer many singing opportunities that weren't religious or classical in nature. This group had been a god-send, and despite being one of the youngest members by a good few years, I couldn't ask for a better group of singing buddies.

After locking my bike up whilst humming away, I noticed that little 'new message' symbol at the top of my phone. Swiping down and seeing Gary's name, I quickly closed the screen and ran up the stairs. This was a message I wanted to read sitting down, not whilst walking up stairs where I'd undoubtedly trip over and end up in hospital with concussion, or something like that.

Reaching my room, luckily I'd left my computer on sleep and didn't have to wait 15 minutes for it to turn on. Opening up facebook, I clicked on the little message bar at the bottom of the screen.

Hey, yeah the weekend was fun. I dunno though, was just planning on seeing how things went... but I quite like you so if you wanna try and make something more of it we can give it a go? How do you feel about it?

Well. That was a good question. I was secretly quite pleased that it hadn't just been a drunk thing, but at the same time I didn't want to rush anything - plus that wasn't the most romantic message ever received. In reality, it had only been two months since I broke up with Lee, and although I wasn't hung up on him I didn't feel the need to jump straight into another relationship. Plus, however much I wanted it to just disappear, there had been all that awkwardness with Bob, and maybe his flatmate wasn't really the best next step.

But then again... might I not be missing out on something wonderful with Gary if I didn't at least try? Clearly the chemistry was there, and we were able to talk... Plus, I was young, I was single, and I had no solid reason not to go for it!

Taking a breath and hoping I wasn't making a mistake, I replied:

Good, because I quite like you too! And yes, I'd like to see if we could maybe make something more of it... I'm away this weekend, but we can talk next week on Glee night?

I also realised I didn't have his number, so I sent him mine so we could chat over the week. Feeling weirdly proud of myself for having taken the first step with a guy, I closed facebook back down and set myself two hours of assignments to do before I let myself collapse into bed. Still, getting all my uni work done would all be worth it to properly enjoy my parents' Golden Anniversary this weekend!

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On Friday morning, our 11am double lecture was cancelled due to a family emergency for the lecturer (although nothing life-threatening, the email reassured us). This suited perfectly - after a few worried phonecalls to the specialist cheesemonger I'd ordered my dad's present from, it turned out that the postman had in fact tried to deliver a full week ago but hadn't left any 'missed delivery' slip for me to rearrange delivery. Luckily, the cheesemonger was able to give me the tracking number. Despite arguing, the Royal Mail refused to resend the parcel until today, where they'd promised that I'd be able to pick up the parcel after 12pm. As my train out was at 4pm, there wasn't much space for any delay.

Otherwise, our plans for the weekend were running smoothly. My parents had booked us a lodge in a country hotel that was right in the middle of Scotland, roughly equal distances from Edinburgh, Glasgow where my brother and sister were at, and home up north. We'd been there many years ago, and the hotel was very dog-friendly, so all together it was the perfect place to meet up.

However, first task of the day: acquire the cake! Ray had kindly offered to drop past my flat on the way to his group meeting so I wouldn't have to walk in and back to uni. He texted me as he found a space outside, and I flew down the stairs to meet him.

He was already leaning into the boot of his car as I reached him and peeked over his shoulder.

"Oh, Ray! It's beautiful!" He turned and proudly smiled at me as I gazed at his amazing creation. It was beautiful - he'd textured the green icing to look like grass, had somehow drawn in ripples in the mini pond, and the flag on the green proudly sported a golden '50!'. And the sand in the bunker - it actually looked like sand? How on earth?

As I leaned in even closer, trying to figure out what he'd done, Ray nudged me. "Don't worry, I've not used sand on your cake! It's coloured sugar crystals, I tinted them all yellow."

"Ray... I don't even know what to say, this is fantastic. But first, put the cake down." He gave me a look but did as I said. As soon as he'd put it down I flung my arms around his neck and squeezed.

"Seriously, you're amazing! They're going to absolutely love it! Have I ever mentioned how brilliant you are?" I was already so excited to show my parents this cake - it was going to be the icing (quite literally) on top of what was shaping up to be a great weekend.

"So, how much do I owe you?" I asked, pulling away.

He shrugged. "You don't owe me anything, don't be silly."

I raised my eyebrows. "Uh, yes I do! I'd have paid at least £50 for something like this in a specialist cake shop." He was still shaking his head at me. I narrowed my eyes at him and started pulling money out of my purse, but he locked his arms behind his back. Giggling, I tried to stuff it down his t-shirt instead, causing Ray to swat at me and swipe the money out of my hands.

I shrieked and started grabbing the notes off the ground before a car could appear and take it away. Ray immediately knelt down and started helping me, babbling apologies. Luckily, for once it wasn't raining or particularly windy, so we managed to get it all back without any financial casualties.

"See! Bad things happen when you try to give me money!"

"Ha, I think that may have been something to do with you... but fine, I give in for now." Ray nodded as I capitulated, and started putting the lid back onto the cake box. I hadn't finished though.

"However... I should warn you, you will be paid eventually." Grinning, I put on my best Liam Neeson voice (by which I mean a horrible copy of an Irish accent). "You cannot hide from me: I will look for you, I will find you, and I will... give you cake money!" I couldn't keep it up and burst out laughing at the end as Ray shook his head at me despairingly.

Hugging each other goodbye, I carefully carried the cake back up to my flat and started running through my packing list one last time.

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My train arrived a few minutes before Alyssa and Peter's train, so I had time to walk over to their platform and wait near the exit. The train was almost empty as it pulled in, so I was able to spot them in a carriage and run over (carefully, with the cake!) to greet them. Due to this year of university being so heavy, I hadn't been home at all this semester and it felt like forever since I'd seen them!

After half hugging each other around the cake box, we dragged all our suitcases over to the nearest taxi rank. With it being so quiet, we were able to get straight into a taxi and start heading over. As it only took about 20 minutes to get out to the hotel, we planned to still have an hour or so to set up before our parents arrived with the dog.

Alyssa and Peter demanded to see the cake as soon as we were buckled into the taxi.

"OK guys... here it is!" I removed the top of the box with a flourish.

Alyssa burst out into a grin. "Oh thank god, that looks really good!" My head shot up and I gave her a funny look.

"Um, did you not trust me?"

She had the good grace to blush a little. "No, no, but you know when someone home bakes a cake, you're never quite sure how it will turn out...

Peter had been inspecting it whilst we talked and suddenly burst in. "Aw nice, the flag's even got a 50 on it!"

"Yup! Ray thought of everything, I didn't even ask him to do that."

Conversation turned to our various university courses, TV shows and the general sibling teasing that we always fell back into whenever we all came home. Before we knew it, the taxi was pulling into the hotel driveway. I paid the driver whilst Alyssa went inside to check in and grab the room key.

Ten minutes later, we were into our lodge and ready to set up. The cake of course went as the centrepiece on the table, surrounded by the basket of food (including the cheese, which luckily had been waiting for me at the post office!), the wrapped pictures of our dogs, and dad's cricket tickets, along with a beautifully handwritten note I'd created. Mum's big present, the golf bag and clubs, was already at home and we'd decided that it wasn't worth our parents dragging it all the way down here when she had already been using them for the past week.

As we laid down the finishing touches of balloons and '50' confetti, mum texted us that they'd be at the lodge in five minutes. We turned off the lights and rushed round finding hiding places, before all settling in to wait behind the sofa. Soon enough the lounge was lit up by the headlights of a car turning into the lodge driveway, and a few minutes later we heard the key turning in the lock.

The lounge door opened and we heard footsteps. Alyssa poked Peter and I, and started whispering the countdown of "3, 2-"

Before we could jump out, a furball of excitement came flying round the back of the sofa and cannoned into us, licking as much of our faces as she could at once. Laughing, we all scrambled out belatedly yelling "Surprise..." at mum, who was standing in the middle of the room almost crying with laughter.

"You really should know better than to hide in a room when the dog's coming with us, she just thinks it's a new game!" giggled mum, leaning down to stroke Isla as she ran over to sit at her feet, tongue lolling happily out of her mouth.

Dad appeared a second later, coming back down from putting the suitcases upstairs. After we'd filled him in on our attempted surprise, we shooed mum and dad to the table to start opening presents.

They absolutely loved their shared foodie hamper. As dad opened the cheese I held my breath, dreading what would happen if it was mouldy. I love my dad, but he does have a really short temper that can get set off by the littlest things, and I just wanted this weekend to go by without any issues. Luckily all three of the cheeses seemed to have survived, but I stuck them all in the fridge as soon as I could just in case.

As mum had already had her big present, we made dad open his next. Making him open the handwritten note first, he seemed a bit confused, but that was quickly replaced by the happiest smile as he realised I was trying to recreate our amazing trip to the Ashes a few years back. Giving me a huge hug, he promised that he'd frame the note and hang it up at home so he could always read it. Alyssa and Peter rolled their eyes a bit as they'd both thought the note was a bit overkill, but I'd been certain that dad would love it.

Finally, we got both mum and dad each to open a perspex print of our current and past dogs. Mum gasped a little when she opened hers - we'd managed to find the most beautiful picture of Isla looking away from the camera. It was one of those photos that just seem to capture her essence, as hippy as that sounds. Dad was exclaiming over his, a picture of the two dogs we'd had when I was born frolicking together in the snow outside our house.

I sat back on the sofa, a warm glow in my chest. All that planning and organising to get the perfect presents seemed to have paid off, and seeing my parents so happy made it a million times worth all the effort.

Later, after we'd all eaten a picnic tea of cheeses, grapes, mini sausages and other finger food, we all collapsed onto the sofas and turned on the TV. I sat on the floor leaning back onto my mum's legs, with Isla curled up and snoring against my leg. The recent cold weather had done her good - her fur was silky smooth and she smelled of frosty grass.

As I leaned back and closed my eyes, I missed the conversation between dad and Alyssa. The first sign something was wrong was when mum's legs tensed behind me, immediately followed by the sound of Alyssa bursting into tears.

My eyes flew open to see Peter glaring at dad, and Alyssa covering her face. Turning to look behind me, dad's red angry face filled my vision.

"It's just one phone call, it's the minimum I'm asking of you! I find it incredibly ungrateful that you won't even speak to them, it's bloody pathetic if you ask me." My stomach clenched as my dad yelled at Alyssa, his face growing even redder and blotchy as the anger took hold. I could feel the tears building up behind my eyes; I'd never been able to deal very well with family arguments, it was like the moment my dad started yelling, the tears started.

Alyssa spat back from across the room. "I've told you! I never want to speak to them! And especially not today, today is meant to be about us, not them!"

Mum tried to intervene and calm everyone down. "Matt, calm down. Can't this wait until tomorrow? This is our family time, let's just watch the film together, please..."

Dad shrugged her off and stood up abruptly. "No. No, I will not calm down! I do fucking everything for this family, out working all day, earning money so I can pay for overpriced hotels like this one, and what do I get? Any gratitude at all, no I don't think so. She won't even deign to spend a couple of minutes on the phone for me, that's how little she thinks of me. And the rest of you, taking her side!"

He paused for a second, breathing heavily, as we all sat there stunned into silence, staring at him. "Well, if you won't do that for me, I'm not doing this weekend for you. See if I fucking care." He turned and stormed out the room, and a second later we heard the front door slam and the car start up.

Alyssa burst into a sob and ran upstairs. Mum got up and followed, calling after her up the stairs. Peter and I sat and stared at each other across the room before I shook my head angrily, letting loose the tears that had been threatening. As always, if there was anything that would ever set off a family argument or ruin a family holiday, it was them. My dad's parents, ruining everything yet again from across the country.


Saturday 17 January 2015

Cheesed Off

Opening up a message to Gary, I saw that he wasn't online. That was to be expected, seeing as he had a full time job and everything. In a way I was a bit relieved - this meant I could just send the message and wouldn't be checking the chat every few minutes to see if 'message read', or even worse, the dreaded '...' indicating he was writing had appeared. I kept it simple - essentially just asking the same question I'd asked Bob - was this a one off drunk thing or was it something more? I added that I wasn't expecting an instant relationship or anything out of it, but I'd rather just know where I stood on it all. Perhaps not the most subtle or elegant way of phrasing it all, but if humans were build on solid foundations made up of our qualities, my two strongest ones would be 'awkward' and 'subtle as a brick'. If he couldn't deal with that now, then there was no way anything would ever happen between us!

After an hour or so, in which I read the same page of my notes at least five times, I packed up my stuff and tapped Ethan on the shoulder to let him know it was time to go. We had our first group project meeting, and I didn't want to be late. At this point all we knew were the other people making up our 11-strong team, and that this project would make up 40% of our grade this year (and therefore 16% of our overall degree classification!). We didn't know our topic, or the lecturer in charge of our team, and with it being so important to my degree I couldn't wait to find out. Luckily the project wasn't going to require much work before Christmas (especially so as I'd taken so many of my classes this semester) but I would have plenty of time after to really focus and make sure we did this as well as we could. I was also currently thinking about going for project engineering jobs after graduation, so figured this would be the perfect opportunity to find out if I was actually any good at leading a project.

Our room was in a building I'd not been in much, and was renowned for being a labyrinth, so it took us a little while to find where we were meant to be. Finally finding the right number, we were still the first people there. We'd barely sat down before a familiar face opened the door and I immediately realised who our assigned lecturer was...

Dr Lee. A perfectly nice man from South Korea, who had taught us basic process calculations in second year, but unfortunately his accent made it almost impossible to understand him. I always felt really uncomfortable complaining about it, because I respected him as a very clever man in his chosen field, and his English was incomparably better than my Korean. However... he had chosen a career as a lecturer in a foreign country, and that came with certain requirements regarding your ability to teach. It had taken us half the semester to realise the reason we could never replicate his equations was that he mixed up his letter sounds, and every person had written down incorrect equations. I'd spent hours trying to go through tutorials with him, and it took forever to work out even the slightest miscommunication in his teaching. Luckily, I suggested that it might be useful for a postgrad student to help out in tutorials to 'ease his load', and we learned the entire course from this poor unsuspecting postgrad guy.

Finding out that he was our assigned lecturer gave me a bad feeling right from the start. I knew that he'd be a lovely man to have around, but he would be useless if we had any technical problems that we needed help with - and I could guarantee 100%  that there would be countless issues. Sighing, I mentally stiffened my spine. OK, not the greatest start, but surely the best project managers come from making successes of the worst messes?

The rest of the group slowly arrived. It was a pretty good mix of people from my year, including Ian: a guy I've worked with before who I knew was a fellow exceptionally hard worker and perfectionist. There was one other girl, who I knew fairly well and knew she'd keep the group motivated to do well. There was only one guy I was worried about - he was notorious for being the class clown, not through any natural wit, but through his complete oblivion to anything going on in classes, if he ever even turned up for them.

Once everyone had turned up, Dr Lee handed out our project outline. Dr Lee then ran through the basic timeline of the project - research before Christmas, each of us designing a module of the overall plant, leading to a personal and group report, then the final presentation to our whole year plus invited industry experts. I zoned out and started skimming through the outline - all of the logistics had been available online for the past month so I knew what he was saying already. It took me a while to understand exactly what we'd been asked to do. It looked like some kind of solids processing plant design, specifically for potassium chloride crystals for fertiliser... but apart from one very brief introduction to solids last year, we hadn't been taught anything about it. I didn't even know what kind of equipment we'd have to design. However, the flip side of that was that I knew most of the lecturers had very little solids processing experience as well, so hopefully that meant easier questions when it came to the final presentation and question panel.

After Dr Lee finished explaining the marking model, we were finally able to discuss the assignment. Part of the new system was each of us taking turns chairing our weekly meetings, so I volunteered to be the first chairperson. At this point there wasn't much we could do though, especially as none of us had the first idea where to start with this kind of process. We needed to come up with at least two different methods of designing this plant, with a separate distinct section for each of us to 'own' the design. We determined our rough timeline for the project, when our weekly meeting would be, set up a google documents to share research on, and finished early. Dr Lee tried to convince us to stay longer and brainstorm initial ideas for the plant, insisting that we had been taught this stuff already. Breathing deeply (not a great sign that he was getting to me so soon), I disagreed, with the rest of the group agreeing with me. When he finally seemed to accept that we were right (and muttering to himself about the curriculum needing changed to include such 'basics'), we escaped with some relief.

As I headed down the corridor, laughing with Ethan about how clueless our lecturers could be, Ian ran and caught up with me.

"Hey Jane, mind if I have a quick word?"

Waving Ethan to go ahead without me, I nodded. "No problem Ian, how can I help?"

"I just wanted to warn you... I've got a few friends who have just graduated who have been warning me about this project - it's something we need to spend a lot of time on to make sure it gets finished to a decent quality and before the deadline, as it can spin out of control very quickly."

I immediately agreed with him. "I know, I've heard pretty much exactly the same from people. I'm actually planning on setting a deadline for our group report a couple of weeks before the actual deadline - we probably won't meet it but at least it'll force us to get the work done a lot earlier so it's less of a panic, and then we can all focus on our individual reports."

"That sounds like a really good idea, I'm definitely on board with that." Ian paused for a second, smiling at me. "I have to say, I was really happy to see you were in my group for this, I know you'll push us to produce an excellent project. And don't feel this is all on you - I'm more than happy to put extra hours into this project to make sure we get the best grade, so you can always rely on me to get things done."

Touched, I grinned back at him. "Aw, you charmer! But seriously, that's really good to hear - I was over the moon to see you in the group too. Despite this weird assignment, I know we'll get through it all somewhat intact!" He waved and headed off to catch up with his friends as I turned right towards the bike racks.

Even though I'd known Ian was a hard worker, it was still a relief to hear out loud that he cared as much about this project as I did. I was definitely a bit of a control freak in group projects - my grades were extremely important to me, and it took a lot before I trusted someone enough with important pieces of work. It wasn't a good attitude to have, as it often resulted in the rest of the group quite happily leaving me with the overall work, and leaving me a burned out mess by the end of it (albeit one with top marks). This project was far bigger than any group work we'd been assigned before, and I had to learn to delegate else I wouldn't cope with the rest of the year. With the project counting for so much it wouldn't be easy, but knowing Ian was there to help eased my mind.

Tying on my helmet, I started pedalling down to the astroturf pitches for football practice. I'd warned my coaches that I'd be a bit late due to the project meeting, but if the traffic lights favoured me I would probably just make it in time. That was perfect with me - I didn't want to get there early and have to talk to anyone about the match and my meltdown over my performance.

Arriving at the pitches out of breath but nicely warmed up, I grabbed my football bag, took a deep breath and ran over to where the girls were already stretching.

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Throwing my football boots into my cupboard and showering little plastic astroturf chips everywhere, I frowned into my mirror. OK, so I hadn't wanted anyone to comment on the fact I got upset at the football match - it was embarrassing and I didn't want to get a reputation as being stroppy or too emotional over games. However, I'd expected Bruce to say something. Anything! I don't know what I'd been expecting - no, I lie, what I had expected was for Bruce to say something along the lines of "I spoke to Ryan and we realised that it was unfair for you not to play the whole friendly, and for us not to consider you for any games when you are clearly the most loyal and reliable player in the team." Or something along those lines at least - god, even an "are you OK?" would have been enough!

I'd been trying to convince myself for the last week that my feelings at the match had been wrong, that it was selfish of me to be so upset over this, but damn it, I WAS the most reliable player. I was the only player who turned up to training every. Single. Week. I was the only person who came along to watch every single match as a spectator, despite never being picked, despite being in my nightmare year of uni, despite the fact it killed me to watch from the sidelines week after week after week. On top of this I was putting hours in each week as Treasurer of the team to try and make ends meet with our rapidly shrinking supply of money, and both of the girls in charge of fundraising had decided they 'didn't have time to fundraise on top of uni and playing games', so I'd been lumped with doing two of the committee roles all by myself, and I was really, really reaching my breaking point.

I was pinching my nose to try and hold back tears when my internal ranting was interrupted by my ringtone - currently the classic James Bond theme song. Scrabbling through my bag to find it, I glanced at the screen to see if it was a call I needed to take - I wasn't sure my voice could hold up to a normal conversation right now. Unfortunately, it was Alyssa, and with my parent's 50th birthday weekend coming up in four days, I quickly wiped my eyes and pressed answer.

"Hey! So, have you got all the presents?" That was Alyssa, straight into the organising. However, as a fellow organised freak, I definitely appreciated the distraction right now.

"Almost! Ray says he'll have the cake ready for me by Friday, and he'll give me a lift back to the flat after uni so I don't have to carry it, and it'll be as fresh as it can be for the weekend. The cricket tickets have been bought - sorry, I forgot to tell you I'd done that. We actually lucked out - I've had to go for the 4th day of the test match, but we're only three rows from the front so that should be a great view. What about you?"

"Good, well I've got everything - all of the food has arrived and it's in my basket, apart from the cheese I asked you to order. Has it arrived?"

Ah. I'd completely forgotten Alyssa had asked me to do that - the rest of the food had ended up being a bit expensive so I'd offered to buy the Lancashire creamy, crumbly and tasty cheese that my dad loved so much (and yes, those are the actual names for the three cheeses - you can't say Northerners aren't practical in their naming!). I had actually bought them but I'd completely forgotten about them arriving... but thinking through, I hadn't seen a 'missed delivery' note.

"No, they haven't arrived yet, but I was worried about the cheese staying fresh so it should be arriving by Wednesday this week. I'll contact the seller and see if they have a tracking number I can use though." OK, it was a bit of a white lie. I had delayed delivery, but I was certain it should have arrived before the weekend... Now, I was just worried that the postman hadn't left a delivery note and the cheese was languishing in a distant post office depot somewhere. My only hope was that Scotland wasn't known for it's warmth at this time of year, so hopefully the warehouse was acting as a giant fridge!

Alyssa wasn't particularly happy about me 'leaving delivery that late' but she couldn't argue with it.

"But Jane, if that cheese isn't there, it's completely your fault OK? And you can tell mum and dad that."

"Yes, Alyssa, I'll make sure it gets there! And I'm sure I can cope telling them that, at worst case I'll buy dad some Wensleydale cheese as a back-up and tell him the story, he'll appreciate the thought!"

"Hmph. Thoughts don't make amazing 50th birthday presents. But it's on you." She paused then, and the line fell silent for a moment too long, which immediately made me feel like something was up.

"Hey, you OK? This weekend will go absolutely fine, I promise, mum and dad will just be really happy to have us all together again."

She sighed. "No, it's not that, it's nothing." My big sister spidey sense went from tingling to full on alert.

"Nothing seems to have got you worried... Must be a pretty important nothing!" I teased her, trying to get her to open up. Alyssa was a bit funny at times, some things she would vent about for hours but on others it was like trying to open an uncooked mussel to get any details out of her.

"Ugh! If I tell you, you can't tell anyone. Seriously Jane, I mean it." Spidey sense update - boy troubles suspected.

And confirmed as she continued. "There's a guy from orchestra... and we went on a date, and it actually went really well. And we're going on a second one. But I'm just expecting him to do what everyone else has done and just mess me around until I've decided I do like him and then he'll bail."

Wow. Alyssa never talked boy stuff with me - this guy must have really gotten to her. Admittedly, there was a reason we never talked about this kind of stuff, because I had no idea what to really say back.

"Well, he must be pretty special for me to hear about him! But I don't know, Alyssa. I know guys have been awful to you in the past, and I don't want to be the one to push you into a situation like that again if he is another jerk. But you're the only one who can make the decision as to whether he is jerk material, and it depends if you'd rather know for sure and potentially get hurt, but also potentially be really happy, or if you could deal with always wondering what if." I nodded to myself - that came out marginally better than it had been in my head.

Alyssa snorted a little over the phone. "Trust you to give me the most depressing 'go for it' speech in history! But, you're right. I know. And he does really seem different."

"So... do I get to know any more about him? Name, maybe?" I quickly flicked my iPad on and opened up facebook, ready to go for some immediate stalking of this potential brother-in-law.

"Ha! No. You'll just go straight back to mum with it."

"Lies! Such lies!" I exclaimed, but couldn't hold back my laugh. It was true. There was no such thing as a secret in my family, all secrets shared between siblings found their way back to mum at one point or another. Plus, by pooling our information, mum and I had become really good at finding Alyssa's guys on facebook in the past. We have no shame.

"I'll tell you this though - he's fourth year and an engineer."

"Yesss!" I cheered enthusiastically over the phone, trying to make Alyssa laugh and succeeding. "I immediately approve. Engineers are awesome."

"Yeah, yeah, I've just told him any engineer chat and he's out the door, I get enough of that at home from you and dad!"

Laughing, we said our goodbyes and I hung up, feeling much better than I had before. As I whatsapped mum saying "New Alyssa gossip - engineer man alert!", Dave stuck his head round the door.

"Were you... cheering just then?" He asked bemusedly, eyeing me lying on my bed in half of my football gear, boots and shinpads strewn haphazardly around the room.

I grinned. "Yup! Alyssa is dating an engineer!"

He groaned. "Oh god. Not more of you. I swear there's enough engineering graduates around to take over the world sooner or later."

I threw a cushion at him from my bed whilst he was speaking and hit him full in the face. He made a face in mock outrage, before stealing the cushion and running back into the corridor, yelling over his shoulder.

"Well, I was going to tell you Agents of SHIELD was about to come on, but I'm not sure I want to watch it now with you in such a violent mood..."

Giggling, I yelled I'd be through in a second and started speed-changing from football gear into pyjama bottoms and a hoodie. The pile of notebooks on my desk stared at me, but I obstinately ignored them as I headed towards the door. With being away for my parents' 50th this weekend, there was an insane amount of work to do before then, but for now the night belonged to curling up on a sofa, watching TV, and eating home-made cookies with my best friend - exactly as it should be.


Saturday 10 January 2015

I'll Tell You What I Want, What I Really Really Want

On Monday I cycled to university instead of walking with Bob, as I had football training that evening. It was going to be the first one since that match last week. Now that all the adrenaline had worn off, I was really embarrassed about the scene that I'd caused with my goalkeeper coach Bruce. It wasn't his fault that Ryan had asked Hayley to play too, and that's the way that sports work - the best ones get into the team, it's a naturally competitive environment. Just because I was upset that someone better had come along didn't give me any right to cause problems. I just hoped that the rest of the team hadn't really noticed and no one said anything about it tonight.

I reached the classroom early and managed to grab one of the seats next to the wall. I always preferred having something to lean against, especially for first thing in the morning, and leaning against a wall was a tad less conspicuous than resting your head on the desk. The rest of the group slowly filtered in and started good-naturedly teasing Nate, who was sporting a magnificent hickey from the weekend. Luckily, none of them seemed to have noticed me and Gary that night, but I stayed very, very quiet just in case! I had thought that Bob had seen us kissing, but he hadn't said anything over facebook messenger when we'd been chatting on Sunday, so I was hoping I might have escaped the mandatory group teasing that something like this would normally entail.

Bob sauntered in and grabbed the seat at the end of the row, just in time to hear Nate groan loudly and tell us all to shut up.

"Are we sharing all the excitement of the weekend, then?" Bob chimed in, giving me a knowing look over Ray's head. Damn, he definitely had seen us! I widened my eyes at him, shaking my head slightly, but to no avail.

"So... I'm guessing Jane's told you all about her and Gary then?" I glared over at Bob as the group burst into noise at his news.

"Whaaat?" yelled Renae, turning to stare at me. "You can't keep gossip like that from me! When, what happened, how far, spill it! Spill it all!"

"Ooh, look at how red she's gone, it must be bad!" Ray laughed at my embarrassment, whilst Nate joined in a bit too enthusiastically, clearly relieved to share the gossip load.

"Nothing really happened..." I mumbled, not wanting to share. I wasn't at all used to being the centre of attention about this kind of thing - after all, I'd been faithfully with Lee for two years until relatively recently and had never kissed anyone before that. I just wanted the attention to end - or at least for the lecturer to arrive early and put me out of my misery temporarily!

"Well, I wouldn't say nothing..." said Bob, shaking his head at me disapprovingly. As the group started exclaiming again, imaginations running wild, I figured telling was the only way to get this over with.

"Fine! So, you guys all disappeared on Saturday night, and it was just me and Gary, and he pulled me into the middle of the dance floor and kissed me. We, um, we stayed there for a while, and then we headed back to our street..."

"And then you totally took him upstairs and showed him how true that 'lady in the street, devil in the sheets' stuff is, right?!" Ray interrupted. I gave him a look and continued.

"Haha, well, actually no. We stopped outside my flat, he kissed me again... and then I told him I hoped this wouldn't make watching Glee awkward, said bye and ran up to my flat."

Ethan snorted and started laughing, whilst Ray looked at me with mock disappointment. "Jane! If you're going to start providing us with gossip, dear, it might as well be juicy gossip!"

"Just because my love life doesn't match up to your Grindr antics!" I shot back with a smile. It was true - the things that Ray had got up to could make a stripper blush, and I'd reluctantly heard all about them in excruciating detail. He winced a little as I said it though and stayed silent, and I immediately felt bad - had something gone wrong? He normally took any chance he could to tell us about his adventures. He shrugged it off immediately, so I made a note to ask him about it later instead.

Luckily at that point our lecturer finally arrived, and the Jane/Gary Inquisition had to halt. After the class ended, I caught up with Bob as we headed over to the library. "So... how did you know?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "... because Gary told me?"

"What?! He told you?"

"Uh, yeah, pretty much as soon as he got back. I must have only been a few minutes ahead of you two, I was still drinking water in the kitchen. You know, he was a bit bummed out by that Glee comment."

I looked down at my feet. "Ah. It wasn't meant to be mean... I guess I just panicked a bit." He looked over at me as we walked, but didn't say anything. The silence was making me uncomfortable, so I decided just to ask what had been on my mind.

"So, seeing as you two apparently talk about everything... was that a drunken thing or does he actually have feelings for me?" It had been preying on me since Saturday night, and I didn't honestly know where I stood on it. Gary was a lovely guy, but I didn't know him that well, and the fact that he was Bob's flatmate just made everything so much more complicated. And if he did have feelings for me, I didn't want to hurt him if what I felt was more curiosity than actual feelings - but if it was just a drunken thing, I didn't want to make a fool of myself by making it out to be bigger than it was. I was so inexperienced with guys, I figured I'd rather just ask the blunt questions and know than play the dance.

"OK, I can answer some things, but I'm not touching that one! Go ask him yourself!" With that, Bob veered off to grab a coffee, saying he'd catch up with us in our usual room. Climbing the stairs, I mulled over what he had said. He was right - if I could ask Bob bluntly about it, I could ask Gary himself and try and sort this all out.

Opening the door to our usual library haunt, I wandered over and sat next to Ray. He had his laptop out and had some online game up on one half of the screen whilst his group project outline filled the other. Leaning over his shoulder, I took a nosy at what his group would be working on for the rest of the year. We didn't have our first group meeting until later that afternoon when we'd find out, so I was curious to see what kind of thing we were expected to do. We'd been warned that they'd 'revamped' the group project this year to make it more 'technically challenging' due to it taking up such a large percentage of our mark this year - which essentially meant no past examples to help. So kind of them to do that in the nightmare year!

Speed reading through the page, it looked like a fairly standard process involving liquefied natural gas. In fact, it sounded very similar to a process I knew existed at a chemicals plant nearby in Scotland. It wouldn't be my first choice of something to do (ideally I wanted something to do with the oil and gas exploration sector, or renewables), but it didn't look too awful either.

Glancing around to make sure everyone else was engrossed in their work (or in Ethan and Renae's case, absorbed in the evilly difficult online geography game they were addicted to), I collapsed into the seat next to Ray and poked his shoulder.

"Soooo..."

"Soooo... what?" He parodied back at me, poking me in the side. I squeaked loudly, then quickly mouthed apologies at the student behind me who turned to glare.

"So, what's up? No grindr stories for us today? Suddenly found your modesty?"

He blushed a little and lowered his voice. "Um... actually... no. If I tell you something, promise to keep it secret?"

Intrigued, I leaned in and nodded. He took a breath and continued.

"Well... I kind of have... a boyfriend." He shook his head at me as I clapped my hands together excitedly.

"Ray, that's great! I'm so happy for you!" I genuinely was, Ray was, in his own words, a bit of a manslut and as long as I had known him I had never seen him with a steady boyfriend that he really cared about. I wasn't sure why it had to be a secret though.

"Jane - that's not all." Ah, here it came. "I've known him for about two years now, but we met on the internet."

I still wasn't really getting it. People met through all sorts of ways now and as long as he wasn't a crazy axe-wielding murderer, internet meets didn't have the same stigma any more.

"We just immediately clicked, I've never talked for so long about so many things with anyone before, and we still talk as much as we do now as we did at the start. And... the other day, we were talking, and he admitted he had feelings for me. Real, deep feelings - and I realised I felt the same way too."

I smiled over at him, it sounded like this guy was lovely. "Ray, that's amazing. But the real question is, when can I meet him?"

Ray looked away awkwardly. "Well, this is why I don't want people to know. He's from LA."

"As in... originally from LA and now in Edinburgh?" I said slowly, my brain not really picking it up.

"No. As in, he's currently living in LA."

"Ah." I didn't really know what to say. I'm not a fan of long-distance relationships at all, mainly because I hate who it turns me into, but there is long distance and there is halfway across the world.

"Look, I know. I can see exactly what you're thinking in that face." I had the good grace to blush a little there, I knew I was too sceptical about 'love being greater than all obstacles' etc. "And that's why I want to keep it a secret. I don't need people telling me it won't work and all that. I have enough worries of my own without everyone else adding their opinion!"

"Well... that seems fair enough. But Ray - are you ever actually going to go and see him? Internet chemistry and real life chemistry are two very different things." I smiled at him, but inside I was really worried for him. It just all seemed a bit impossible - long distance is for when you know you will eventually live your lives together, but planning your life out with someone you'd never even met screamed dodgy to me.

"I hope so, I would have gone this summer but I've already booked holidays with friends from home. So we'll see how it goes. I know you're not totally convinced on this, but I am Jane. I've never had feelings like this for anyone."

Softening, I managed to give him a genuine smile. "Well, if you're happy, how can I be anything but happy too?"

He smiled back and hugged me, whispering in my ear. "And now you know, I give you the task of restraining me whenever I get horny enough to consider the feelings not worth it!" Groaning and shoving him away, I couldn't help but laugh at his grin. That was definitely the Ray I knew and loved, crossing the line every time.

Friend drama sorted, I turned back to my desk and fired up Facebook, then searched for Gary's name in my messages. Ray knew what he wanted - time for me to figure out if I did too.


~ Author's Note: If anyone fancies any procrastination, here's the game that Ethan and Renae were playing (along with pretty much our entire group half the time!): http://www.travelpod.com/traveler-iq.
I take no responsibility for any consequent addictions and lost productivity! ~

Saturday 3 January 2015

Where Do We Go Now?

I woke up to the sound of laughter in the flat. Rolling over, I smiled as I checked my phone: 9.30am. Or, as I liked to call it, the perfect weekend morning wake-up time: late enough that I'd definitely got enough sleep, but still early enough to justify lying in bed watching a few episodes of Buffy on Netflix. I'd never watched the series when it originally came out but figured it's never too late to catch up, and had become completely addicted to it within the first few episodes. Although I had to admit, I really didn't get the whole Angel thing - give me Spike any day!

The laughter faded out as I heard the front door open and close, followed by the sound of Dave locking up. After the drama of Dave finding out he was going to America, it sounded like Dave and Jess had finally made up. She still wasn't particularly happy about him going, but she'd agreed to give long distance a shot and they were making sure they made the most of the time left together before he left. Dave was frantically trying to get everything sorted, booking London visits for visa applications, finding the cheapest flights he could, and most importantly, figuring out how many essentials he could fit in one 23kg suitcase! The company organising the placement had already sorted his accommodation for the first month, so finding a long-term flat was something he could do once he was over there. On a slightly selfish note, I'd suddenly been thrown into a panic of what would happen with our Edinburgh flat. Luckily as this was our second year in our flat, we'd passed the initial rental period of a year and were on a sort of rolling month basis, provided we gave enough notice to the landlord. My options were either find someone to move in - which was a bit difficult as not many students were looking to move midway through the year - or find someone with a space. I'd put a few feelers out on room rental websites to see if anyone was interested, but internally I was really hoping something turned up that didn't result in me living with a complete stranger.

As the second episode finished, I finally managed to drag myself out of bed. For once, I actually had plans for a Saturday night which meant a productive afternoon was a necessity. Renae, one of my friends from my course, was turning 21 and that meant only one thing: a night out at the Big Cheese! Drinking, dancing, and singing along to all the cheesiest hits of the last few decades at our university union building was exactly what I needed - between work overload and all the stress of football and Dave moving, I couldn't wait for tonight.

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I nipped past the shop to grab bottles of Peach Schnapps and lemonade on the way over to Renae's. We were having pre-drinks and playing a few drinking games before heading over to the Cheese early to get free entry. Buzzing what I hoped was the right flat number (as I always got it wrong), I tried not to look at the guys heading into the door behind me. Renae was convinced it was some kind of local brothel due to all the guys and interestingly dressed girls who came and went. Unfortunately, her bedroom window overlooked the entrance so I figured she saw more than she really wanted to!

Reaching the flat, I realised I was the first to arrive. Giving Renae a hug and waving hi to her flatmates, I poured myself a Schnapps and lemonade. Offering Renae one, she scrunched up her nose and shook her head vigorously.

"Uh, no, you wouldn't catch me dead drinking that stuff! It's like pure sugar, I don't know how you drink it without gagging!"

"I'm sorry my drink doesn't match up to your super-posh beers, and you know death by sugar is my demise of choice" I laughed back at Renae. "Speaking of which, where are your fancy beers? Parents not get you any this year?" Renae was renowned for getting weirdly-named beer that no one had ever heard of from her parents, but I couldn't see the usual table of bottles.

"Yeah, they couldn't make it out to Edinburgh before the weekend so I'm seeing them tomorrow..." I glanced incredulously over at her; Renae wasn't exactly known for her restraint on nights out. She noticed and grinned wryly. "I know! Don't worry, they've been told not to turn up anytime before 2pm, and they're experts at dealing with me hungover by now."

As I shook my head smiling, Renae dragged me through to see the new Dr Who duvet set her brother had got her. We originally bonded over our shared love of Dr Who, which led to a particularly fun trip to London last year for the 50th Anniversary convention. One of our favourite memories was the actors in full Cybermen and Silurian costumes terrorising the younger kids - plus seeing all the fire and explosion special effects gave us a new alternative career aim if chemical engineering didn't work out!

Whilst we debated how the latest series had turned out (we both love Capaldi but have differing views on his companion, Clara), the rest of the crew slowly turned up. As people poured drinks and chatted away, I glanced around, not seeing a face I was expecting.

"Hey, Renae, did you invite Bob?" She frowned and looked around too. "Well, I thought I did! My phone's dead, can you give him a text?" I nodded and quickly messaged Bob, asking if he was turning up tonight. Things had been going pretty well between us recently - it felt like we both really had just moved on from that awkward night, and I had made sure that there had been no other uncomfortable incidents like the whiskers one. Of course, it helped that we were so overloaded with work that our courses took up around 90% of our conversation!

A few minutes later he texted back:

Me and Gary were going to, but her flat's miles away! Not really too keen on heading halfway across town tbh.

Well, that didn't make sense. Renae's flat was a five minute walk from our street, if that! After bouncing a few messages back and forth, it suddenly made sense - Bob had google mapped 'Road' instead of 'Street' in the address, giving him a completely random house on the other side of town. With that sorted out, he said he'd be over in half an hour. As I was letting Renae know, Ethan produced a pack of cards and started setting up Ring of Fire. Inwardly groaning (as any game involving dirty pints immediately has me scared), I grabbed another drink.

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

We headed over to the union at about half nine - Renae had been unlucky enough to lose both games and consequently drink two dirty pints, so when she started demanding that we head out now, none of us decided to argue! I ended up walking over with Gary, Bob's flatmate. He was one of those deathly silent types when I first met him, but I'd been round at Bob's often enough that he'd opened up a bit around me now. We'd recently connected over Glee, which both we knew Bob hated and therefore had started watching every time I came round.

For some reason we'd started talking about penguins, and as soon as I'd mentioned that polar bears are probably quite fond of penguin suppers he'd burst out laughing - apparently, they're from different hemispheres... proving what a geography-challenged idiot I can be, much to Gary's amusement. In my slightly drunken state, however, I was not to be defeated, and launched straight into an argument of how a polar bear could travel from the North to the South Pole if it did decide to snack on some penguins.

By the time we'd reached the union we were both giggling helplessly at the ridiculous picture I'd painted. Not paying attention to my step, I tripped over the cobbled street and would have fallen flat on my face if Gary hadn't caught me. Finding this even funnier, I went straight into uncontrollable giggling territory as the Schnapps properly hit me. Gary insisted on linking arms to 'save my face from the floor', and that's how we arrived at the bar. Gary insisted on buying my first drink, so I hung back a little away from the bar to wait for him. The dance floor was still completely empty apart from Renae, who for no clear reason was full on galloping around the area yelling. My amusement was interrupted as a presence at my shoulder caused me to look up.

"So... you and Gary, huh?" Bob nudged me, grinning slyly. For one of those very rare periods in my life, I was lost for words.

"Um - I mean - what?" I couldn't feel more awkward if I tried - I genuinely hadn't been thinking that way about Gary, I'd just been enjoying our ridiculous conversation. And for Bob of all people to be commenting on it - I didn't know how I felt about that. It almost felt like I'd been doing something wrong, and I had to remind myself strongly that there was nothing going on between us, and that there never would be. His smirk ignited a flash of strange anger in me, and words flowed back.

"Me and Gary as friends? I know, it's taken long enough for him to relax round me! You should really have told him I'm not that scary, just a bit crazy!" I smiled at him as Gary returned with our drinks, and swept past him to the table with the rest of our group.

Trying to shake the weirdness of the moment off, I threw myself into the game we were playing. I'm naturally competitive at the best of times but this time the focus hit crazy levels! It was one we played quite regularly on nights out - the basics of it being you start at 1 and 'pass' on to the person on your left or right, who says 'two' and passes on to the person on either the left or right of them and so on. At certain numbers you have to point in a particular way or do a certain action and if you forget you drink and the whole process starts again. Gary was next to me and whenever I passed to him he immediately passed straight back to me. It ended up in a few intense battles just between the two of us, but Bob's words were still at the back of my head and I always caved and passed to Renae before they could go on too long.

A couple of drinks later we all headed over to the dancefloor. Ethan was chasing Renae and pretending to gallop like she was doing earlier, whilst the rest of the guys stopped dead and started singing as 'Don't Stop Believing' came on. Laughing, I started dancing away between Gary and Nate, another guy from my course. The night blurred as other classics such as Blue (Da Ba De) and 5, 6, 7, 8 came and went, accompanied of course by our stunning dancing and singing.

Eventually, between people going to the bar and disappearing outside for a break, our group dwindled to just me and Gary. He was twirling me around to a song I didn't know, any awkwardness from earlier completely forgotten. As the song drew to a close he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the centre of the crowd. He turned back to me and slipped his arms around my waist, and the only natural thing to do seemed to be to put my arms around his neck. He smiled at me and leaned in slightly - only for me to leap back in excitement as the opening chords for 'Sweet Child of Mine' rang out.

"I LOVE this song!" I yelled at Gary, grinning wildly. I threw my arms back around his neck and started enthusiastically singing along. He danced along, laughing at me. As the solo hit and I stopped singing, he leaned in quickly and kissed me lightly. He drew back, looking at me warily, until I pulled his head back to mine. We stood, surrounded by strangers, lost in each other for the moment. Reality slowly set back in as I pulled away, the music filtering back into the moment as Slash's guitar solo faded away and Axl Rose's voice filled the room singing: "Where do we go now?"

Over Gary's shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Bob staring over from the edge of the room, his face unreadable. I tried to hold in drunken giggles and tears as I started singing along with the song again, but this time meaning the lyrics with all my heart. Where do we go now, indeed.