Page 2

Emmie

Our two flatmates arrive around lunchtime. Their parents linger with tearful eyes as we all help Landon and Noah with their things. But once the goodbyes are out the way and Zara closes the door, we all sigh with relief.

“Okay, how exciting is this?” asks Zara. “We can finally start freshers as a flat.”

“Didn’t we start it last night?” I ask, sipping my water to rehydrate my poor hungover body.

She grins. “Let’s go to the SU bar and call our first flat meeting.”

“Meeting?” asks Noah, arching a brow. “About?”

“The rules,” she replies, winking.

The SU bar is surprisingly quiet. We find a table in the corner and order a round of drinks, even though alcohol is the last thing I want right now.

“I’m studying art,” Zara announces, turning to me as if to prompt me to go next.

I give an awkward smile. “Erm, English Lit.”

Landon grins, “Me too.”

My eyes widen in surprise. He isn’t your typical English Lit kind of student.

For a start, he’s hot. Like seriously, drop-dead gorgeous with the bluest eyes and cutest dimples.

Zara nudges me with a small giggle, and I realise I’ve been staring.

“Good. Great. Fantastic,” I mutter, trailing off and wincing at my awkwardness.

He smiles too, his eyes lingering a little too long on me.

“And I’m here for football,” says Noah, causing Zara to groan. “Sports science.”

“Then we should definitely establish some rules.” She takes a drink before continuing.

“I love a party as much as the next girl, but I also take my studies seriously and I’m not here to get into thirty-grands worth of debt, for late night parties every night, to fuck it all up.

” I nod in agreement. “I propose a limit on weekend parties at the flat.” The boys exchange a look.

“Friday or Saturday night, but not both.” We all agree, and she moves on. “No flatmate relationships.”

My head whips around in surprise, and she laughs again. “It will get messy and lead to arguments and side taking. No one’s got time for that shit. We have to live together for a full year. Let’s not get it messy.”

She’s right. I can’t imagine having to suffer any more heartache and be forced to live with the offender for the rest of the year, even if these two are hot as hell. “She’s right,” I mutter.

“Pity,” Landon murmurs, side-eyeing me in a way that sends butterflies to the right parts.

“Strictly friends. Got it,” says Noah with a nod.

“I take it you ladies are single then?” Landon asks.

I nod, and Zara shrugs before adding, “I kind of broke things off before I came here, but he’s taking some time to get used to the idea.”

“I’m single,” Noah announces loudly enough for a nearby table of girls to hear. They glance over, smiling at his declaration.

“Me too,” adds Landon.

“Great, so we’re all in the same boat,” Zara says, “Single and ready for Uni life. I can’t wait.”

“Aren’t you gonna draw up a rota or something?” asks Landon, his voice teasing.

“Actually, I’ve done it,” she replies, and we all groan. “I added you all to a chat and I’ve posted it there.”

I laugh. I think I’m going to love living with these guys.

Zara claps her hands together. “Now that’s sorted, let’s make a proper flat pact. Like, a memory. First-week tradition or something.”

“Oh God,” Noah mutters. “This sounds dangerous.”

“Not dangerous,” she insists, grinning wickedly. “Just . . . symbolic.”

“Like what?” I ask.

She thinks for a second, then points toward the SU bar’s ancient jukebox. “One song. Each of us picks one. We have to dance to it when it comes on, wherever we are, whatever we’re doing.”

Noah laughs. “So, if I’m halfway through a lecture, and it just so happens to come on, I’ve gotta bust out the Macarena?”

“Exactly,” Zara says proudly.

“I’m in,” Landon says, eyes on me again. “Only if you are.”

His smile makes my stomach flip, but I pretend I don’t notice. “Fine. But I’m picking the most embarrassing one I can find.”

“Deal,” he says, clinking his glass against mine.

One by one, we pick our songs and add them to the queue. When Zara’s comes on, a classic disco track, we all groan but end up dancing like idiots in the corner of the empty bar. A few students cheer us on.

Later that night, as we walk back to the flat, Landon falls into step beside me. “You’re not what I expected,” he says softly.

“Is that a good thing?”

He shrugs, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I’ll find out.”

Back at the flat, we all collapse onto the mismatched sofas in the living area. Landon practically shoves Noah out the way so he can sit on the same couch as me. It brings a smile to my face.

“That might be the most exercise I’ve done all year,” Noah groans, tossing a chip in the air and catching it in his mouth.

“Yeah, you danced like someone’s dad at a wedding,” Zara says, earning a laugh from the rest of us. She pulls out her phone. “Okay, so tomorrow’s the campus tour, but I also found this welcome event thing in town, live music, cheap drinks, pizza van.”

“Pizza van?” Noah perks up.

“I’m in,” Landon says. He looks over at me. “You coming?”

“I don’t know,” I say with a sigh. “I was kind of planning a quiet one tomorrow. Maybe read, unpack a bit.”

“You brought books to freshers’ week?” Noah asks like I’ve confessed to bringing a knitting kit.

“I’m studying English Lit,” I say with a smirk. “It’s practically a requirement.”

“Don’t worry,” Zara says, “we’ll corrupt you eventually.” She stands, stretching. “I need sleep.”

Noah pushes to his feet, “Me too. For the record, I’ve had a great first day.”

Now it’s just me and Landon with the empty chip tray between us. The room is dim, except for the soft glow of a floor lamp, and suddenly, it feels way too quiet. He stretches his legs out and his ankle brushes mine. My skin tingles like he’s set it on fire.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice lower now. “You went a bit quiet.”

I nod. “Yeah. I think it’s just first day nerves. Everything’s changing, you know?”

He nods. “New place, new people. Leaving stuff behind.”

I glance at him, but he doesn’t press. “Something like that,” I murmur.

We sit in a silence that’s not uncomfortable, just there. Then he yawns, stands, and offers me a hand up. “We should crash,” he says. “Big day of pizza ahead.”

I smile, letting him pull me to my feet. “Night, Landon.”

He pauses halfway to his door, glancing back. “Hey, for the record, I had a really good first day too.”

Then he disappears inside, leaving me standing there with a weird smile and a very confused heart.

Kai

I don’t even know who’s flat this is.

Someone said it belonged to a third-year student who is currently on a placement, and they’ve unofficially loaned it out to their cousin.

Or friend. Or dog. Doesn’t matter. What matters is the lights are low, there’s soft music thudding through some ancient Bluetooth speaker, and the air smells like weed and cheap incense.

I sink into a giant floor cushion and take the whiskey bottle Seb passes me.

“This is decent, right?” he says, eyes darting toward the kitchen where a girl in a red headscarf is laughing with a group of friends. “Not too crazy. Vibe-y.”

“You dragged me out for a vibe ?” I raise an eyebrow, taking a sip. It burns in the right way.

“She’s here,” he says, ignoring me. “Talia. That’s her.”

I follow his gaze. She’s pretty. Tall, kind eyes, confident in that way girls are when they know people hang off their every word. She’s nothing like Bella. Not a mean girl. Just confident.

“She’s out of your league,” I say casually.

Seb throws a cushion at me. “Shut up.”

I grin. “You want a wingman or are we pretending you’ve got this?”

He groans. “I might need a small distraction.”

“Fine.” I stand, stretching, and feel it straight away, eyes on me.

People I’ve never met clock me like they’re trying to figure out where they’ve seen me before.

They haven’t. But it doesn’t matter. Some guy nods like we’re old mates.

A girl near the speaker nudges her friend and whispers something, glancing my way.

It’s always like this. I don’t do anything, and still they look. They smile. They want something. And all I have to do to appease them is smile back. My dad says it’s an irresistible charm; one I apparently inherited from my runaway mother. I don’t think he meant it as a compliment.

Talia’s group parts slightly when I wander over, and someone immediately offers me a joint.

I wave it off for now, holding up the whiskey as an explanation.

She gives me a friendly nod, clocking Seb, hovering nearby and offering it his way.

There’s no awkwardness, just that low hum of student energy.

Everyone figuring out who they are here. Who they want to be.

I make conversation. I laugh at the right parts. I say something that makes Talia smile, and then I back off, letting Seb slide into the space I’ve warmed up for him.

I drop back into my cushion, stealing another drink. The music shifts to an acoustic and chill tone. Someone’s strumming along on a guitar, relaxing the mood further.

I close my eyes for a second, letting the night settle around me. And for a moment, it’s good. No pressure. No expectations. Just background noise and other people’s problems.

But then I see something. Dark hair. That familiar curve of a jaw. Emmie.

I shake it off. It’s not her. She wouldn’t be here. And even if she was, she wouldn’t want to see me.

I let the music wash over me. The chatter fades to a low hum, and someone nearby lights another joint. The smell curls through the room like fog.

I glance across to Seb, who’s now deep in conversation with Talia. He’s doing that thing where he gestures too much when he’s nervous. She laughs anyway, and I find myself rooting for them.

I tip back the bottle of whiskey for another sip, letting my head rest against the wall, my eyes half-closed.

“Is this seat taken?” a voice says right beside me.

I flick my eyes in the direction and find Talia’s friend. The one in the oversized jumper and Doc Martins.

“It’s a bean bag,” I say. “Plenty of room.”

She drops down beside me without hesitation, crossing her legs and twisting toward me like we’ve known each other for years. “You’re Kai, right?”

I nod slowly. “Word travels fast.”

“Well, you walked in like you expected everyone to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t mind me using it.”

I smirk, letting her words hang there.

“You a fresher?” she asks.

“Yeah. You?”

She shrugs. “Second year. Media and film. I study people like you.”

“Dangerous,” I murmur.

Her smile widens. “Only if you give me something worth writing about.”

She reaches for the whiskey, plucking it from my hand without asking and taking a swig. I watch her, half amused. She’s clearly used to being the bold one in the room, but I like her confidence. It gives her an edge.

“You gonna tell me what your deal is?” she asks, her eyes falling to my mouth now.

“I don’t have one,” I lie.

She laughs under her breath. “That right there? That’s your deal.”

I tilt my head, pretending to think it over. “Guess you’ll have to write a whole paper on me.”

“Oh, I plan to,” she says, eyes sharp. “You’ve got trouble written all over you.”

I raise my glass in a mock toast. “You wouldn’t be the first to say it.”

She presses her lips together in a fine line before pouting and saying, “Alex, by the way.” She holds out her hand and I shake it, smirking at her formality. “Mummy or daddy issues?”

I laugh, snatching the bottle back and taking a large gulp. “Neither.”

“Bullshit,” she murmurs with a slight smirk. “You’ve got this whole bad boy vibe with rebellion and anger running through your veins. There’s got to be parental damage in there somewhere.”

I laugh harder, shaking my head. “What about you?”

“Ha,” she scoffs, taking the bottle back. “Daddy issues. One hundred percent.”

“Left or just absent?”

“Left when I was three. Wanker. Never paid a penny in maintenance.”

“But here you are, at university, showing him, you didn’t need him to make it.”

She gives a knowing smile. “Is that what you’re doing, Kai?”

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. “I’m here proving to myself I’m good enough.”

She shuffles down into the beanbag further. “Aren’t we all?”