‘Yes,’ I said immediately, if only to end whatever weirdly aggressive verbal sparring was occurring between Pip and Rooney.
‘I don’t even know what the point is any more,’ said Rooney with a dramatic sigh. ‘Shakespeare Soc doesn’t even exist. Something about it running out of members.’
‘Can’t you just join something else?’ said Pip, but Rooney looked at her like she’d suggested something infinitely idiotic.
Jason hadn’t even bothered to stay involved in this conversation and had walked over to the DST mailing list. I followed him and he handed me the pen.
‘I didn’t think you’d want to join DST,’ he said, ‘after all the throwing-up during Les Mis.’
‘I still love theatre,’ I said. ‘And I need to join more than just the English Soc.’
‘But you could pick something that didn’t make you throw up.’
‘I’d rather throw up surrounded by friends than join a society alone and be sad.’
Jason paused, then said, ‘I think that sounded more profound in your head than it did in real life.’
I finished writing my email address and put the pen down, glancing up at Jason. He did genuinely seem a bit concerned about me.
‘I want to do this,’ I said. ‘I … I really want to try and … you know. Meet new people and … have a good university experience.’
Jason paused again. Then he nodded, face full of understanding. ‘Yeah. That makes sense.’
We stepped aside to let Pip and Rooney write down their emails on the list, all the while they were having some sort of inane argument about which DST society they should join, and each of them seemed determined to establish that their choice was the correct choice and the other person’s choice was utterly wrong. After several minutes of this, Jason eventually decided to end it by suggesting we all go to get pizza from the Domino’s stand, which was giving out free slices.
‘I’m gonna carry on looking around for a bit,’ said Rooney. She moved her gaze from Pip to me. ‘Meet you at the entrance in like twenty minutes?’
I nodded.
‘Fab.’ Rooney looked back at Pip again and said as if Jason didn’t even exist, ‘How about we all meet up at John’s bar tonight? It’s so fun down there, it’s this tiny little basement bar …’
Most people would not have been able to tell what was up with Pip, but I’d known her for over seven years, and she had this look. A slight narrowing of the eyes. Her shoulders hunched.
The fact of the matter was: Pip had decided to hate Rooney.
‘Yeah, we’ll be there,’ said Pip, folding her arms.
‘Yay,’ said Rooney, smiling wide. ‘Can’t wait.’
Rooney wandered off into the mass of stalls again. Pip, Jason and I headed towards the Domino’s stand, Pip’s eyes never leaving the back of Rooney’s head, and Jason asking Pip, ‘What the fuck was that?’
A bonding opportunity for my only three friends was definitely a good idea, but this was somewhat counteracted by the fact that Rooney seemed to delight in irritating Pip, while Pip seemed to be infuriated by her mere existence in all of our lives, and I had already discovered that I was not a fan of clubs and bars.
Felipa Quintana
THE VIBES, GEORGIA. THE VIBES.
Georgia Warr
what of them
Felipa Quintana
THEY ARE BAD
I should have seen it when we met
She’s full of bad vibes
Georgia Warr
rooney’s actually quite nice
are you just saying this because you saw her hooking up with someone?? no slut-shaming is allowed in this group chat Felipa Quintana
OBVIOUSLY NOT. She can hook up with whoever she likes however much she wants, I have no problems with people who enjoy casual hooking up I’m just getting a bad vibe
. . . . . . She made fun of my cacti Jason Farley-Shaw
In other news
Where are we meeting and what time??
I don’t know where John’s Bar is!!
Georgia Warr
i’ll come pick you both up from pip’s room
i’m concerned about pip arriving by herself and making a scene as soon as she sees rooney Jason Farley-Shaw
Oh that’s good thinking. Smart.
Felipa Quintana
FUCK you both
‘I’m perfectly capable of going to a bar and not making a scene just because I don’t like one person,’ said Pip as she opened her door to me later that evening.
I’d been given specific directions but still ended up having to call her and be verbally directed around the winding corridors of Castle. And if that wasn’t enough chaos to deal with on a Friday evening, Pip’s bedroom was in definite competition for messiest bedroom in Durham. There were more clothes on the floor than there appeared to be in her open wardrobe, her desk was piled high with incredibly boring-looking science books and pieces of paper, and her bedsheets were smushed into a corner, several feet away from her bed.