Chapter 9
Nine
VICTORIA CLICKED THE LIGHTER.
We were gathered around her on a picnic table outside the pub. It was the end of our first week, and despite our exhaustion, Jolly had demanded we all go for an inaugural pint.
‘I didn’t think I could feel this tired,’ he groaned, his forehead on the table.
‘I think it only gets worse from here,’ Obi said, slipping his large frame in beside Jolly.
Victoria passed Obi a rolled cigarette. He took it without looking at her, the movement already so practised, so natural, the twisted end gliding from her fingers to his.
Victoria had stopped offering me cigarettes.
The Masons was across the road from school. Everyone drank there, even the teachers. The place was heaving. First-, second- and third-years swarmed the courtyard like ants. I glanced over my shoulder.
Jolly rolled his head to one side. ‘Who’re you looking for, Shan?’
‘No one.’
‘She doesn’t come here, you know,’ Victoria said, blowing a plume of smoke from the corner of her mouth.
‘Who?’ Obi asked.
‘She’s worried about Frida,’ Jolly replied.
‘Don’t. I doubt bitch robot even drinks,’ Victoria said.
‘Except maybe WD-40,’ Jolly added.
Victoria and Obi laughed.
Stefano emerged from the pub carrying a tray of shots. ‘What did I miss?’ he yelled, striding across the yard.
Stefano was another of our classmates, an international student who’d joined us from Milan. He had hazel eyes and tied his hair in a top knot with a rubber band.
‘Nothing,’ Victoria said, lifting one from the tray. ‘We were just discussing how fucking adorable you are.’
Stefano grinned and sat down beside her. Victoria inched closer to Obi. He put his arm around her shoulder.
‘Shot?’ Stefano said, raising his eyebrows and gesturing towards the tray.
I shook my head.
He slid one towards me. ‘Come on,’ he said with a wink. ‘You scared you’ll lose control?’
Heat prickled across my neck. ‘No,’ I laughed uncertainly. ‘I’m OK, thanks.’
Stefano was the kind of man who hovered his arms out to the side to make them look thicker.
He was the guy who liked to pick up girls until they giggled and squealed and begged to be put down.
At 5’7”, we were the same height. Sometimes, when I stood next to him in class, I noticed him rise up onto the balls of his feet.
‘Sure I can’t tempt you?’
‘Fine, go on then,’ I said, accepting the drink with a reluctant smile.
Ordinarily, Stefano was someone I’d avoid.
But here, it was impossible. We’d only been around each other one week but already these people, my classmates, were beginning to coagulate into a sort of family.
Thrown together by circumstance from different corners of the country, of the world, we’d settled inside each other’s pockets, a ragtag group of sisters, brothers, lovers.
‘Well, I think we should toast,’ Victoria said, lifting her glass.
‘What are we toasting?’ Obi asked.
‘We’re toasting . . . erm, oh God, I’m pissed already,’ she giggled. ‘We’re toasting the first week of the rest of our lives.’
‘Uh-oh, she’s going to make a speech,’ Jolly said, rolling his eyes.
‘Maybe I am,’ Victoria said. She clambered up onto the bench, and Obi grabbed hold of her legs to steady her. ‘Would that be so terrible?’
‘If you fall and smack your head on the concrete, we’re not taking you to A she sat up. ‘And why wouldn’t they be?’
‘No reason. Never mind. I didn’t say anything.’
Victoria glowered at Jolly. ‘I mean, I doubt I’ll do much theatre anyway.
My agent has her sights set on bigger things – TV, film.
To be honest, I’ll probably move to LA at some point.
’ She plucked the half-smouldering joint from Stefano’s fingers and threw it into the fire.
‘God, I’d hate to get stuck here, doing the same boring plays to the same boring audiences night after night.
’ Her mouth twitched. ‘But that’s just me. ’