You're the One That I Want

  As we lay on my bed, once I’d given up fighting back, he turned to me with a sad sigh.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re going to Bristol and that Ben’s going with you!’

  ‘At least you’ll have someone to keep an eye on me now.’

  ‘As if I needed that anyway,’ he said, pulling me closer.

  ‘You never know, I might be swept off my feet by some arty type,’ I laughed.

  ‘Don’t even joke,’ he said with a pout.

  ‘Oh, and there’s not going to be a swarm of girls falling over themselves to get to you, Mr Muscles?’

  ‘I’m blind to everyone else … you know that.’

  ‘Yeah, just wait until you get to Freshers’ Week and you see just how short the skirts are and just how high the boobs have been pushed up.’

  He raised his eyebrows at me and laughed, ‘How high are we talking?’

  Prompting me to whack him on the head with a pillow, leading to a play fight.

  Eventually, as we calmly snugged in together once more, he whispered in my ear, ‘We’ll be okay.’

  ‘We will, won’t we?’

  ‘Absolutely … there’s only one girl for me and I love her with every beat of my heart.’

  ‘So cheesy.’

  ‘So true,’ he whispered, pulling me on top of him and kissing me in a way we both knew would lead to some very naughty behaviour – even with my parents downstairs.

  We fell asleep at some point, causing my mum to come in a couple of hours later and shout her head off like a crazed madwoman as she spotted my unpacked suitcase. Robert later snuck off home, after more snuggling at the doorway, deciding it was about time he started his own packing – although I was sure his mum would have done the whole lot for him already.

  There was nothing final about our goodbye that Saturday – even though we were entering into new worlds and new lives, it was joyous rather than sad. Well, for us it was, but you wouldn’t have thought so if you looked at our mums, who were all sniffing into their tissues before we’d even got into our cars.

  The three of us stood in a huddle and hugged goodbye, Robert holding me around the waist while Ben took my hand and squeezed it three times in his ever-comforting way – I was thrilled that he’d be going to Bristol with me, that I’d still have him for constant support.

  ‘So, we’ll see you next weekend or the one after, then?’ I asked Robert, as we broke away, bouncing my car keys in my hand in excitement and doing a little jig with my knees.

  ‘Yes! We’ll play it by ear. See what’s planned for us all in our Freshers’ Weeks.’

  ‘Watch out for those girls, Mr Miles,’ I warned.

  ‘How high did you say they were again?’ he grinned, placing one hand on his chest to mockingly measure the assumed freshers’-week-boob-height, before putting his hands around my waist and pulling me close.

  ‘Oooh, you little monkey,’ I laughed.

  He gave me a tender kiss before turning to give Ben an embrace, slapping him on the back in that brotherly way guys do to each other.

  ‘Look after her,’ I heard Robert say quietly.

  ‘Of course,’ promised Ben with a nod.

  It was a sweet moment between the two of them, even if they were acting as though I wasn’t there and that I was some feeble girl who needed looking after. I had no doubt I would be fine – it was the boys I was worried about, after all, their mums did practically everything for them. I had no idea how they were going to cook and clean unaided. Not that I said as much.

  After the three of us joined together for one final huddle, I got into my little red Ford Ka and manically waved goodbye. We beeped our horns the whole way to the motorway, excitedly starting the journeys to our futures.

  I’d picked Bristol as my top choice for university mainly because of its beautiful location and scenic views – I’d been there years before with my family and had thought of it as a magical place ever since. Although, obviously, the photography course I’d be studying sounded great too. Ever since Mum and Dad had bought me that first camera, I’d never been able to shake off my love for the art. I knew Dad would have loved me to study something more solid, like business or English – something that offered more prospects once the degree was complete and would secure me a future, but he never tried to sway me from doing the course. At eighteen, I had no idea what I planned to do with a photography degree, but I figured something would pop up somewhere along the line. Taking pictures was what I loved doing. Plus, not to blow my own trumpet, I was good at it. Now I’m not saying that I thought I was about to become the new Mario Testino, or anything like that, but I was better at doing and creating rather than forcing my mind to think about mundane tasks and sums. A doer, not a thinker, perhaps.

  Bristol was just as beautiful as I’d remembered it from my childhood. The area that had stuck in my mind most vividly was Totterdown, with its multi-coloured houses sitting all pretty in the hills. In my head I’d assumed I’d be living in one of them when I went to university there, so I was mildly disappointed to learn it wasn’t a possibility. It was student halls for me. Although that didn’t stop me over the years wandering down to Totterdown and pretending it was my neighbourhood – I liked living in that little fantasy whenever I could.

  The rest of Bristol itself was far from ugly with its historic-looking buildings at the heart of it; with the rivers winding their way through everything – the campus, shops and houses – it felt like you were never far from the water. Plus, there were loads of beaches a cycle ride or a drive away (depending on how adventurous you felt), where we could sunbathe over ice cream, dinky doughnuts or a bag a chips. Perfect. I knew I’d be spending most of my time inland in the busy part of the city, but it was lovely knowing that those views were only minutes away and easily accessible.

  On the day I arrived there, once the cars were unpacked, my room was set up, and we’d met a few other students who were staying in the same halls, I finally managed to persuade Mum and Dad that it was okay for them to leave me in this strange place called Bristol.

  As soon as I waved them off and returned to my room (after a million goodbye hugs and kisses), I found myself disturbed by the silence. It was eerie. I lay on my single bed and looked around my new home. The bland white walls were hardly warm and inviting, but I knew I could spruce it up with some photos from home Blu-tacked to them. Along one side there was a white wardrobe and a chest of drawers, which were already brimming with clothes – I’d had no idea what to pack, so decided to bring the majority of my wardrobe. Next to those was a wooden desk, on which I’d already lined up my course books as well as my new computer and camera. I was also given the gift of an en-suite – something I was truly grateful for as it would spare me the awkwardness of half-naked encounters with strangers in the hallway after showers and, perhaps more importantly, the embarrassment of having to hide the smell of my number twos when going to the loo. Yes, I knew an en-suite would make my life there much more comfortable.

  I took in the new space around me and let out a sigh, suddenly feeling a bit empty – or perhaps it was boredom seeping in after such a hectic and thrilling day. It was, after all, fairly anti-climactic. I’d been so excited to get to Bristol and for university life to start, but we still had a whole thirty-eight hours to go until we walked through those university doors and officially became its students.

  I picked up my phone and called Ben. His accommodation wasn’t in the same block as mine, but was luckily only a couple of minutes’ walk away.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, picking up instantly.

  ‘Are you unpacked?’

  ‘Yeah, all done. Mum left ages ago. I’ve been helping some of the others bring their suitcases up the stairs and stuff.’

  ‘Very nice and sociable of you.’

  ‘I’m going to be living with them for a year – always good to make a good impression.’

  ‘Fair point,’ I answered, suddenly wondering what my new companions thought of me. I’d briefly met thre
e students from my halls, Pearl, Jennifer and Flo. They seemed nice enough, although we hadn’t all got together and had a proper chat yet, we’d been too busy organizing our new rooms while our parents faffed around us. I thought about going in and getting to know one of them a bit better, kicking off one of those firm friendships that people always talked about creating at uni, but the comfort of having Ben there, who I knew so well already, drew me in. ‘What are you doing now?’

  ‘Nothing. Just chilling in my room.’

  ‘Same here. Fancy going to the pub for one?’

  ‘Yeah, why not.’

  One drink turned into two, turned into three, turned into four, turned into Ben having to carry me back to my place, only I couldn’t for the life of me remember what floor I was on or what room I was in. It was funny for all of two minutes and then, as we were shattered and too drunk to care, we gave up trying to find my new bed and took a little walk to Ben’s room instead. We curled up on the single bed and passed out instantly.

  And so started our student life.

  It didn’t take me long to form firm friendships with the girls in my halls, which wasn’t like me, but Pearl, Flo and Jennifer were awesome. Pearl, from East London, was a proper cockney – tough and feisty. She might have been just a little over five feet, but she had some gob on her and was as blunt as anything – a quality that was alarming at first but equally refreshing. Flo was from the Wirral, and was our group’s English rose. Her honey-like hair fell down in waves to just below her shoulders and her milky skin was flawless, not freckled like mine. She too had a boyfriend that she was separated from – he was a brick-layer and was staying up north – so I instantly felt drawn to her through our similar situations. Jennifer, an exotic-looking beauty with Indian roots on her mother’s side, was, rather ironically, from Nottingham, making her an endless source of information when Robert started heading out to all these places that I’d never heard of.

  The morning after the night I’d slept in Ben’s bed instead of my own, I wandered in to find them all standing in the hallway, each leaning against their bedroom doors – Pearl’s room was next to mine on the left, Jennifer’s was adjacent to hers and Flo’s was directly opposite mine. They were all still in their pyjamas, looking like they’d not long since woken up, gulping on mugs of tea. They were mid-conversation but stopped when they saw me walk in wearing my previous night’s clothes, confirming that I hadn’t just got home late and then ventured out first thing before they’d woken up – I’d slept out.

  ‘There you are!’ sighed Flo, sounding relieved, before eying up my clothes with a troubled look. ‘We’ve been worried!’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course we have, Maddy,’ Jennifer added with a sympathetic smile. ‘We thought you might’ve got cold feet and decided to leave us already.’

  ‘So … where have you been?’ asked Flo.

  ‘God, I got so drunk …’

  ‘Did you shag someone?’ asked Pearl.

  See? Where others might have been more restrained on a topic, she was always ready to wade in and get to the root of a matter without hesitation.

  ‘What? No!’

  ‘Oh! I was sure this was going to be our first walk of shame,’ she laughed with mock disappointment. ‘What a pity!’

  ‘She’s not stopped going on about it,’ added Jennifer, rolling her eyes.

  ‘I have a boyfriend.’ I protested.

  ‘Well, that doesn’t stop some people!’ smirked Pearl.

  ‘I told her you weren’t doing that,’ chimed in Flo almost to herself as she gazed into her mug, looking uncomfortable with the conversation – I had a feeling that she, like me, wasn’t keen on any sort of confrontation.

  ‘So where were you, then?’ prodded Jennifer.

  ‘With Ben,’ I shrugged.

  ‘Your extremely fit BFF?’ asked Jennifer, her dark brown eyes widening in surprise.

  I nodded, prompting the girls to look at each other and giggle.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, nothing … I just hope I find a hunky friend to share a bed with, at some point,’ laughed Pearl, twirling her brown hair through her fingertips.

  ‘But it’s not like that,’ I argued, getting ready to defend our boy/girl friendship once more, something I was very used to doing. Hoping that it wasn’t going to be made into a massive issue. I liked these girls and didn’t want there to be a question mark hanging over me and my loyalty every time I hung out with Ben. That’s what had led me to feel judged and isolated in the past – and I didn’t want history to start repeating itself yet again.

  ‘Shush, you,’ broke in Jennifer, interrupting my frantic thoughts. ‘She’s pulling your leg.’

  ‘Yep. I’ve seen a photo of your boyfriend … Phwoar!’ Pearl growled.

  ‘Thanks,’ I sighed.

  ‘Any brothers I should know about?’

  ‘Two!’

  ‘Like heaven to my ears!’ Pearl cackled.

  ‘Want a cuppa?’ asked Flo, moving towards our communal kitchen. ‘Kettle’s just boiled.’

  ‘Sounds fab. I’ll just go shower first, though.’ I felt stale and horrid from the previous night’s over-indulgence – I knew I still smelt of alcohol too, it hovered around me, prompting unexpected waves of nausea every time I caught a whiff of it.

  I showered quickly and threw on a new pair of stripy purple and white pyjamas (I’d bought them especially for uni), guessing the day was going to be written off in terms of exploring the city, and left my hair wet – I couldn’t bear the thought of drying it in my hungover state, and didn’t even care that it would dry frizzy and wild.

  ‘Here you go, tea, two sugars,’ Flo beamed, handing me a mug as soon as I walked out of my room, back into the hallway.

  ‘Feeling better?’ asked Pearl, still standing in the same spot I’d left her.

  ‘Much.’

  ‘Fancy a chocolate Hobnob?’ she asked, pulling a massive packet from the pocket of her dark-blue dressing gown.

  ‘That is just what I need!’ I sighed, happily taking one.

  ‘I’ve got two mega packs,’ she grinned, swinging out her hip and showing me another packet hiding in her other pocket.

  ‘We’ve decided a girlie flick is in order,’ smiled Flo.

  ‘Yes, come join us in my little boudoir. We’re watching that new one with Billy Buskin in – Halo,’ Jennifer said, opening her bedroom door to reveal the den she’d created. Radiant red and aubergine-coloured fabric was hanging from the walls, hiding the dull white-painted

  surfaces behind, and incense was burning, making it look like an Arabian haven. It was beautiful.

  ‘How have you managed to make it look so cool?’ I asked, mentally comparing it to my own bleak hideout. I thought I’d done a pretty good job personalizing it and making it my own, but Jennifer had shown me otherwise.

  ‘Mum made me pack a whole bunch of saris, just in case the perfect Indian boy turned up on campus …’ she chuckled. ‘I figured I might as well put them to good use instead, plus I was running out of space in my wardrobe.’

  ‘They look incredible!’

  ‘I’ll be frantically taking them down whenever she decides to come visit … and wearing them!’ she laughed. ‘Right, grab a space, girls,’ she said, gesturing towards the bed as she switched on her television and located the chosen DVD.

  We scrambled onto her neatly made bed, which was lavishly covered in red silk sheets and embroidered cream pillows, and nestled ourselves into comfortable positions with our cups of tea cradled in our hands and Pearl’s chocolate Hobnobs temptingly placed out in front of us to nibble on.

  That, at eighteen years old, was my first ever girlie afternoon. It’s bizarre to think that I’d gone that long without one. As we sighed at the romantic storyline between Sid Quest and Scarlett James (cooing over Billy Buskin’s charming ways), giggled awkwardly at the sex scenes (can anyone watch them in the company of others and not feel über weird?) and cried our eyes out uncontrollably a
t the ending (seriously, it’s so sad – how could they leave it there?), I realized how fun it was going to be living with the girls and being part of a girlie friendship group for once. Now, being with the boys had always been effortlessly comfortable, and I knew nothing would ever replace or better that, but the new bond that I felt growing was a whole new experience for me, and I liked it.

  Robert came to visit us for two nights the following weekend – we didn’t quite manage to last the two weeks apart we’d loosely planned – something I was rather pleased about. It was nice to know that he hadn’t forgotten about me as soon as he got to Nottingham and was out of reach. We’d all survived Freshers’ Week and avoided any disasters, other than gaining splitting headaches from our raging hangovers – students could drink!

  ‘Just what I thought,’ Robert said, wandering into my room, nodding as he inspected the place. ‘It’s basically the same as mine, but with your added girlie touch.’

  ‘It’s not girlie!’

  ‘No, you’re right,’ he said, picking up one of my floral pillowcases from my bed as he sat on it – just to prove his point.

  I wouldn’t have normally gone in for the floral thing, I was the least girlie person in the world, but I’d become obsessed with all the colourful sheets and towels when working in Magpies that summer. I don’t know what had come over me.

  ‘Compared to your boyish lair, which no doubt has nothing out other than your weights, I think you mean it’s more welcoming and homely,’ I said, jumping on top of him and wrapping my arms around his neck – I was so excited to have him there.