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The point was that she’d never been humiliated like this, not even when a customer complained their burger was cold. Not because they’d been any kinder than Christopher, but because she didn’t actually care about burgers. Her mistakes didn’t matter by the end of the day. But art was such a big part of who she was, a reflection of her, and that reflection was currently cracked.

She slumped onto the first bench she found, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now. Her next class wasn’t until after lunch, and she didn’t feel particularly inclined to go to it. Already, at least two people in the room were just waiting for her to mess up. But what was the alternative? Her dorm room was a tiny, dark little cupboard in the corner of the building, with only a hamster she wasn’t technically allowed to have and a few pigeons on her sill for company.

She’d been naive to think that this could be a new beginning. It seemed that, no matter where she went, her shortcomings would always cling to her like a second skin.The harder she tried to shed them, the tighter they held on.

As she pulled out her phone to calm herself down, a voice startled her from above. ‘You look like you need a friend.’

Juniper looked up and found a girl stood over her. Well, a woman. She supposed they were all adults now, a fact Juniper was still coming to terms with, and this one might have been a few years older than her. She recognised her from the workshop just now, though she’d been sitting on the other side of the room. With short, glossy black hair and an endearing overbite that poked through when she smiled, she was difficult to miss. But that wasn’t the first time Juniper had seen her. They’d skirted around each other’s boxes on moving-in day last weekend, exchanging timid smiles and muttered complaints of how narrow the corridors were. If memory served, she’d been passing in and out of the room opposite Juniper’s. Juniper had intended to introduce herself once the chaos died down, but as soon as the boxes had hit her carpet, she’d dashed off for a couple of job interviews. When she’d gotten back, the common room had been filled with chatter she could only linger on the edge of, clearly having missed the most important bonding experiences, so she’d gone upstairs and kept to herself, eager for the comfort of pyjamas and quiet.

She shifted her bag off the bench, leaving room for her neighbour to sit, which she did in a flurry of beads and fringe. Her cardigan appeared handmade, a patchwork of earth-toned granny squares composing the body and sleeves, which immediately made her ten thousand percent cooler than Juniper and therefore,once again, out of place in her comfortable dark clothes.

She winced at the girl’s question. ‘Is my misery that obvious?’

The classmate pinched her fingers together, a dimple appearing on her left cheek. ‘A smidge.’ Then, she nudged Juniper as though they were already playful pals. ‘I’m Tilly, by the way. I think I’m staying in the room across from you in Chaplin House?’

She spoke with a warm, Irish lilt, one that could easily trigger Juniper’s pansexual panic if she focused on it too much. She loved accents, and Tilly was unfairly pretty in the unique sort of way that some people – silly people – might overlook.

‘I thought I recognised you.’ Juniper forced a smile, though her stomach was tight both from the terrible start to her day and the fact that she was absolutely awful at socialising with new people. Any moment now, she’d say the wrong thing and Tilly would think she was weird, not worth knowing.

‘And you are…?’

Oh, yeah.This was the part where Juniper was supposed to say her name. ‘Juniper! Or Juni. My friends call me Juni.’

Tilly raised her brows. ‘Oh, I love that wee name! Your parents clearly knew you were going to be an artist.’

‘Weirdly not. They would much rather me be… well, anything else.’ Juni laughed, nervously playing with the sleeve of her jacket.

‘Oh, no.’ Tilly’s features darkened, her brown eyes wide. ‘You’ve had the “art doesn’t make money” talk, too.’

‘Yup.’ Juniper popped the P, relaxing a little. Okay, she could do this. Tilly was nice, and clearly she got it. ‘You too?’

A nod as Tilly crossed one flared jean-clad leg over the other, revealing a pair of fancy black platform boots that seemed to have been hand-painted with stars and crescent moons. ‘I think they could have dealt with my struggling artist dreams if it didn’t mean moving so far away from home. I assume you’re from the north?’

‘Manchester. And you, Ireland?’

‘Aye, Dublin. Needed a change. I love my mam, but she’s… a lot.’ Tilly let out a serene sigh, as though they were soaking up sun on a beach rather than sitting on a cold, wooden bench in the middle of London.

Envy struck Juniper. She’d never been able to do that: justenjoysomething. Everything came with struggle, whether it was too much noise and people or just her tendency to mess up.

‘By the way,’ Tilly continued, amusement dancing in her voice, ‘how brutal is our new tutor? I amnotlooking forward to this afternoon.’

‘Yeah.’ Juniper squirmed. ‘I accidentally might have called him an arsehole before I’d even gotten into the classroom, so we’re not off to a good start.’

A choked laugh fell from Tilly. ‘Bet he deserved it!’

‘Oh, he absolutely did.’ Juniper found herself snickering, too, suddenly very, very grateful that Tilly had come over. She’d envisioned spending the entire year alone, a bit like in high school after her best friend-slash-girlfriend had moved to Blackburn. She didn’t mind being alone, was used to it, even, but the September sun felt a tad warmer with someone in her corner.

Tilly sat up straight, leaning closer so that Juniper could smell coffee on her breath and peachy perfume on her clothes. ‘Hey, by the way, did you hear that weird noise last night? I couldn’t sleep for hours!’

‘Oh? I don’t think so. What was it?’ Juniper tilted her head, though her pulse started pounding in her ears. She might have aninkling…

‘Sort of like a rattling whir. I don’t know.’

Yes, Juniper had, in fact, heard a rattling whir, but to admit to it would mean revealing her very dark secret: that in order to combat her loneliness, and to save her pet from certain starvation at home, she had smuggled her beloved hamster, Cerberus, into halls despite the rule printed in bold in her contract that specified no pets were allowed in student accommodation.

She would have to take his hamster wheel out of his cage immediately.

‘How bizarre,’ she brushed off quickly, scratching the back of her neck as she searched for a way to change the subject. ‘Hey, would you fancy a coffee or something? I need a boost.’