twelve

The morning forced itself upon Toni when the alarm clock, that she had forgotten to turn off, yelled its wake-up call at eight. She pulled the pillow over her head, and then reached out an arm and fumbled around on the bedside table until she found the off button and silenced the cheery, early morning presenter.

She tried to go back to sleep, but her head was pounding. She dragged herself out of bed and trudged to the sink in the corner of her room. She groaned at the reflection in the mirror. She could barely focus on the image before her. Unable to face putting in her contact lenses, she took her spectacles from the case on her desk and looked in the mirror again.

"Jesus, girl," she said to her reflection. "Not only do you feel like shit, you look it too."

She needed a coffee to get her going. She pulled on her robe, picked up her favourite morning mug, which was twice the size of an ordinary one, and headed for the kitchen. When she got there, she was surprised to find Julie and Kerry waiting for the kettle to boil.

"Morning."

"You look rough," said Julie. "Bet you feel it too?"

"How did you guess?"

"Well you did knock it back a bit last night," said Kerry. "I knew Dave could drink, but you almost matched him and Dylan."

"More fool me. Is there enough in here for me?" She pointed towards the kettle.

"There should be, I filled it," said Julie.

"I'll let you two go first, since you were here first and all."

"Too kind." Julie chuckled.

The kettle switched itself off when the water boiled. Kerry filled two mugs and carried them back to her room where Dave was waiting. Julie filled her mug next, and then drained the kettle into Toni's mug, almost three-quarters filling it. She picked it up and handed it to Toni, who took it gratefully.

They sipped the drinks in silence before Julie spoke. "I hope you're proud of yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"That performance with Joanne after the party, you do remember that don't you?"

Toni thought for a few seconds and finally dredged up the memory from whichever dark corner of her mind she had hidden it.

"Oh my god, I didn't, did I?"

"I'm afraid so. You made a complete fool of yourself."

"You think so."

"I think you ought to be glad that Dylan didn't see it."

"But she'll tell him, won't she?"

"I don't think so. Jo and Dylan are good friends; at least that's how he sees her. If that's how she sees it as well, she won't tell him because it's not important. If she sees him as something more, she still won't tell him for fear of ruining a friendship that they already have. Plus, I'm pretty sure that she would have just thought it was the drink talking. Joanne's a nice enough girl as far as I can tell."

"Do you think she likes him, or am I being paranoid?"

"I honestly don't know. I do know that they talk a lot, more than he does with any of the guys down there, apart from perhaps Mark. And I know that she feels that he keeps an eye on her when we go out. She a complete lightweight you know. She can hardly drink at all."

"Do you think she'll be at the game? I could apologise if she is."

"I don't know. But I don't think you should go anyway. His girlfriend will be there. It could be awkward."

"You're right, like always."

Mark stepped down from the team bus alone. Thanks to the solid defence, and another splendid link-up between Dylan and Mark, the team had earned themselves a one-nil victory.

"Are you sure you're not up for it, Mark?" asked one of his teammates.

"I promised I'd meet the guys from the hall, but let me know where you'll be and I'll steer us in that direction."

"We'll be at the footy club. You an' Dylan will get in freemans, but it'll cost your mates two quid a shot if they fancy it. Tell 'em that the bar's open later than the sea front bars, and the music's way better. Plus, all the gate money goes to the club, but you don't have to tell 'em that bit."

Mark walked towards the hall as the bus backed out of the car park. A car past the bus and pulled into the tiny car park. It slotted into one of the few empty spaces. As the sound of the engine died away, Mark heard the doors of the red Mini open and close, followed by Dylan's voice.

"Mark, wait up."

Mark stopped walking and turned around. Dylan fumbled his bag from the tiny boot of his car, and Claire climbed out of the passenger side of the car. She wasn't what Mark had been expecting, although in hindsight he should have guessed. From this distance, she looked remarkably similar to both Toni and Joanne, with shoulder length black hair and a slim, athletic body.

"I still can't believe that you missed the bus," Mark said.

"I'm not surprised," said Claire. "He is very difficult to wake when he's asleep."

"I must have banged on his door five or six times before he woke up. By then it too late, the bus was waiting and he was nowhere near ready."

"It's a good thing I've got Bertha, isn't it?" Dylan said smiling. "Besides, if I'd have gone on the bus, I couldn't have brought Claire back with me, so it worked out for the best after all."

They entered the hall and some of their fellow residents greeted them. Dylan quickly introduced Claire to everyone, and then took her to his room while Mark recounted the highlights of the match they had just played to the others.

"It's bigger than I expected," Claire said. She sat on the bed and looked around the room.

"That was what I thought too. It's certainly bigger than some rooms I've seen in other halls, I'm just lucky I guess."

"You seem to have settled in and met some nice people."

"They're all good guys. You'll like them, especially Mark and Dave."

"Mark certainly seems nice."

They continued to make small talk for a few minutes, and then Dylan suggested that they have a coffee before going down for dinner. After dinner, they returned to Dylan's room to get ready for a night on the town.

The Footy Club was in a single storey building running the length of one side of the pitch that both the university and the local semi-pro team played on. On the opposite side of the pitch was the 'main stand', which could seat around five hundred people. At either end of the pitch was a small area of terracing.

The clubhouse had seats for another two hundred people to watch the game, housed the offices of the semi-pro team and the changing rooms. But it was The Footy Club, capable of hosting parties of up to three hundred, that attracted the most patrons. During term time, it regularly played host to fund-raising discos for the various university clubs and societies. The university football club had exclusive use on Saturday nights.

It had a large dance floor on the far left of the entrance. It was at a lower level than the rest of the club, and had a DJ booth at one end. Raised seating areas surrounded it on all sides. Between the entrance and the dance floor were more seating areas, and the bar, which occupied the length of the wall directly opposite the entrance.

Dylan and Claire never strayed far from each other all night. She got on well with his new friends, particularly Joanne, Natalie and Andrea. Toni chose to keep a respectful distance, but was less than happy about the situation.

"I can't believe he's brought her back here, Julie. Just look at how they're behaving. You think he'd show a little more tact."

"What do you expect? They haven't seen each other in ages."

Julie suggested a dance, to take Toni's mind off things. It worked for a short while. When they stopped for a break an hour later, Toni still had Dylan and Claire on her mind.

"I'll bet he hasn't told her about us. He couldn't have done or she wouldn't be hanging of him like that."

"I hardly think he's likely to tell her about your little fling is he?"

"Well she ought to know, it's only fair."

"Toni, don't do what I think you're going to."

"I have no idea what you mean, Jules. I'm not planning to do anything." Toni looked around the room and then asked Julie if she wanted a drink. She forced her way past several people so that she could get the spot at the bar that she wanted. Next to Natalie.

"Hi."

"Oh, hi Toni. What do you think of this place?"

"It's pretty good. One of Aber's better ones I think."

They paused, clearly uncomfortable with each other. Toni continued tentatively.

"What do you think of Claire? You seem to be getting on well with her."

"Claire? You mean Dylan's girlfriend?"

"Yeah. Was she what you were expecting?"

"I never really thought about it, to be honest." Nat looked across to where Dylan and Claire were dancing together.

"I must say I'm surprised at how well she's taking it." Toni looked at across at the dance floor too.

"Taking what?"

"Well he must have told her about me and him. Mustn't he? I mean, imagine if someone else let it slip to her, all hell would break loose."

"That's true. I know I'd rather hear it from him if I were in her position. She hasn't mentioned it at all. Maybe they just agreed to chalk it up to drunken experience"

"Thanks, Nat. I also wanted to be someone's drunken mistake."

"I didn't mean it like that. It's not a reflection on you. I'm sorry."

"S'okay, I understand. I do, really. Good luck to them. They must really be in love if she can forgive his sleeping with someone else on his first night away from her."

Just then, the barman brought Natalie three drinks. She paid for them before bidding farewell to Toni and carefully carrying them back to Andrea and Joanne at one of the tables by the dance floor.

Toni smiled to herself with some satisfaction and ordered her drinks.

Andrea and Jo took their drinks from Natalie as she eagerly sat down and began to talk.

"Did you know that he'd told her?"

"Who told who what? Nat, if you've just been talking to someone else, you could at least tell who you're talking about before you carry on." Jo despaired at her friend sometimes.

"Dylan and Claire, silly. I'd have thought that was obvious."

"How stupid of us not to have known," said Andrea dryly.

"What is he supposed to have told her, Nat?" asked Joanne.

"He's told her about him and Toni."

"What about him and Tony. And who's Tony?" All three girls jumped as Claire sat down next them.

Natalie opened her mouth to respond, but Jo beat her to it. "He's this boy from another hall, that's all."

"What's he got to do with Dylan?"