that one before, online somewhere, but I couldn’t remember what it meant.
‘In a strange turn of events, your college mother decided that university wasn’t for her and dropped out at the end of last term. So we’re going to be a single-parent family this year.’
There were some more chuckles, but then silence. I wondered when Rooney was going to bust out the questions, but it seemed even she was a little intimidated by Sunil’s third-year confidence.
‘Basically,’ said Sunil, ‘I’m here if you have literally any questions or worries about anything while you’re here. Alternatively, you can just do what you want and forget I ever existed.’
More laughs.
‘So. Does anyone have anything you want to chat about while we’re here?’
After a short moment, Rooney was the first to jump in. ‘I was wondering, like … how the college marriage thing worked? I heard something about college proposals but I don’t really know what that is.’
Oh, yeah. I was glad she’d asked that.
Sunil laughed. ‘Oh my God, yes. OK. So. College marriage.’ He linked his fingers together. ‘If you want to form a mentor team with another student, you get college married. One of you proposes to the other and usually it’s a big, dramatic proposal. There’ll be lots happening this term.’
Rooney was nodding, fascinated. ‘What d’you mean by “big and dramatic”?’
‘Well … let me put it this way. My proposal involved me filling her bedroom with glitter-filled balloons, getting forty-odd people to wait in there and surprise her, and then get down on one knee in front of everyone with a plastic ring in the shape of a cat.’
Oh. God.
‘Does everyone … um … does everyone get college married?’ I asked.
Sunil looked at me. He really did have kind eyes. ‘Most people. Usually friends do it, since it’s just for fun. Sometimes couples do it, though.’
Friends. Couples.
Oh no.
Now I really needed to actually meet people.
The discussion broadened out into other aspects of university – our studies, the best clubs, good times to use the library, the Bailey Ball at the end of term. But I didn’t say anything else. I just sat there, stressing out about college marriage.
It didn’t matter if I didn’t do that. Right? That wasn’t what I was here for.
‘Now, I’m going to be escorting you to a club this evening, apparently,’ said Sunil, as we were all packing up to leave. ‘So meet in reception at nine p.m., OK? And don’t worry about dressing up too much.’ As he continued he met my eyes and smiled, warm and gentle, ‘And you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, all right? It’s not mandatory.’
As Rooney and I walked back to college, I messaged Pip and Jason about ‘college marriage’. Their responses were pretty much what I expected from them:
Felipa Quintana
OMG WE HAVE THAT TOO
Literally cannot wait till someone proposes to me
Or I propose to someone
It’s gonna be dramatic af
I hope someone showers me with confetti then recites a poem to me on a boat in front of a hundred onlookers before releasing a pair of doves into the sky
Jason Farley-Shaw
I think the concept seems kind of archaic, idk
Rooney, however, didn’t have anything to say about college marriage, because she was much too focused on going out to a club.
‘I’m so excited for tonight,’ she said.
‘Really?’
She smiled. ‘I’m ready for my uni experience, you know?’
‘Yeah,’ I said, and I meant it. I was ready for my uni experience too. Sure, the idea of going to clubs was horrifying, and I still couldn’t quite imagine the scenario in which I would fall for someone, but I was going to make it happen, and I was going to enjoy it. ‘Me too.’
‘So,’ she said, and looked at me with her big dark eyes. She was objectively very pretty. Maybe she’d be my endgame. Roommate romance like in a fanfiction. This was university, for God’s sake. Anything could happen. ‘D’you like going out?’
By ‘going out’, she meant clubbing, and honestly, I didn’t know. I’d never been to a club. There weren’t many nice ones in rural Kent, and neither Pip nor Jason were into that sort of thing.
Clubbing. College marriage. Sex. Romance.
I knew all this stuff was optional.
But I wanted to have a completely normal university experience, just like everyone else.
‘Oh my God!’ said Rooney, once I’d finished straightening my hair. ‘You look so nice!’
‘Ah, thanks!’ I said awkwardly. I’m terrible at taking compliments.
Mum and I had gone clothes shopping a couple of weeks ago so I would have things to wear for club nights, and I’d picked out a couple of dresses and a pair of chunky shoes. I put one of the dresses on with black tights and honestly didn’t think I looked too bad, but next to Rooney, I just felt like a child. She was wearing a velvet red jumpsuit – a deep V at the front and flared legs – with heeled boots and huge hooped earrings. She’d piled half her hair up in a messy bun on top of her head, the rest flowing down her back. She looked really fucking cool. I … didn’t.
Then I felt bad because Mum and I had chosen this dress together. I felt a million miles away from Mum and our local shopping centre.
‘Did you go out much back in Kent?’ Rooney asked from where she was sitting on her bed, applying some final touches to her make-up in front of her pedestal mirror.
I wanted to lie and say I was super experienced at clubbing, but there was really no use. Rooney was already becoming acutely aware that I was a shy person and much, much worse at socialising than she was.
‘Not really,’ I said. ‘I … I dunno. I didn’t really think it was my sort of thing.’
‘You don’t have to go out if you don’t want to!’ She patted highlighter over her cheekbones before shooting me a smile. ‘It’s not everyone’s scene.’
‘No, no,’ I said. ‘I mean … I want to at least try it.’
She
