‘Every hall has a JCR, or junior common room, where they’dlikeus to hang out. They’ve all got a big telly, sofas, vending machines, that sort of thing. Some of them have a snooker table or table tennis donated by a former student but no one ever hangs out in them. Probably because they all smell a bit like wet dog.’
‘You mean there are pets on campus?’ I ask, excited.
Alice frowns.
‘No, which only makes it all the more baffling.’
Despite my mom lecturing me daily on the terrible weather in the UK, the sun is shining again and everyone we pass looks happy to be here, the first day energy palpable. The start of a new school year has always been more compelling to me than the beginning of a new calendar year. New Year’s is nothing but lame parties and too much pressure, with three months of crappy weather on the other side. January is not the time to reinvent yourself, but September? End of summer, beginning of fall – which everyone knows is the best season – changing leaves and holidays on the horizon. One hundred per cent better.
‘So, coffee first, enrolment second, then what?’ Alice asks. ‘Do you have your schedule?’
I fish around in my tote for the printout I brought with me, even though I’ve had it committed to memory since the school emailed my info packet two months ago. The no internet access on campus thing is going to take some getting used to, but it’s not as though I didn’t know about it before I arrived. Hemden literally brags about its offline culture on its website, which is a contradiction I don’t even want to think about it until I’ve had at least three coffees.
‘There’s a junior year abroad welcome meeting at eleven,’ I say, reading from my mini laminated schedule, grateful for my mother’s frequent but brief crafting obsessions. ‘Then I really need to think about finding a job before I get caught up in classes.’
‘Shouldn’t be too hard. Best place to start is the union, they’re always recruiting. One of the few upsides to all the rich kids who come here, the rest of us can find a job on campus easily enough.’ Alice pulls up her sweatpants and tightens the drawstring at her waist. ‘First year, I worked at The Snug, but being a barista is not my calling. I broke the espresso machine so many times I had to move to Members last year. I could have a word with the manager for you if you’d like?’
Sliding my schedule back into my bag, I ask, ‘Members? You mean working in the bar?’
‘It’s honestly so easy.’ Alice nods. ‘They basically pay you to hang out with your friends. Happy to put in a good word for you.’
‘Thanks, I’ll think about it.’
But I’m already thinking about it. If my folks found out I’d even been inside a bar, they would have a meltdown. If it got back to them that I was working in one, they’d be on the next flight out.
‘When you say rich kids,’ I say, changing the subject before she can push harder. ‘How rich are you talking?’
Alice lets out a low whistle. ‘I mean rich-rich. A very healthy mix of proper poshos with old money and your more recent billionaire babies, the odd member of the aristocracy. Jenna’s mum owns a tech company, something to do with data orchestration and please don’t ask me to explain any more than that because I can’t. She has disgusting amounts of cash but you’d never know. Jenna’s totally cool. Michael’s parents, on the other hand, do nothing because they’ve never had to. His dad is like, third cousin twiceremoved to the king or something. Of course, he never talks about it, that would be incredibly crass.’
‘But we’re talking about it now?’
‘That’s because I’m crass.’ She pulls her shoulders up in a shrug. ‘It’s easier to talk about money when you haven’t got any. Both my parents are teachers, I’ve had a part-time job since I was old enough to do a paper round. Both my parents are teachers.’
‘My dad is in real estate, just went into business for himself last year so money hasn’t exactly been flowing at home,’ I say, flashing back to all the sales boards up in our neighbourhood, Dad’s smiling face watching everywhere I went.
‘The good thing about Hemden is no one really cares who your parents are or how much money you have, as long as you can get a round in when it’s your turn. Hey, look!’ Alice snatches my wrist in her hand and gasps before I can reply, pointing at a glass-fronted building ahead of us. ‘No line at The Snug! It’s a first day back miracle. What do you want?’
The smell of cinnamon and hot coffee fills the air and I inhale deeply, suddenly homesick for the drive-thru Starbucks off Highway 9.
‘Something hot and something strong.’
‘Same,’ she says with a sigh. ‘But for now, we’re going to have to settle for coffee.’
7
Ethan
It’s official. There are worse ways to wake up than someone sliding their hand into your shorts and gently squeezing your morning wood.
‘Mmm. Breanna.’
And one of those ways would be for that same hand to stop squeezing gently and practically wrench your dick off your body instead.
‘Jesus, fuck!’
I’m wide awake when I jump out of bed, stumbling over a desk chair and almost crashing face first into my closet. Where the fuck am I? And who the fuck is the redhead in the bed?
‘Who the bloody hell is Breanna?’ the girl yells.
