seventeen

Dylan's alarm woke him at seven the next morning. He'd slept the sleep of the intoxicated and, suddenly roused from his slumber, he was paying the price. He and Joanne had drunk the entire bottle of Archers. She left at two and Dylan collapsed on his bed and fell asleep without undressing.

He wanted to hurl the screaming alarm across the room, but couldn't muster the strength of body or will. Instead, he slapped it repeatedly until the caterwaul ceased. His mouth felt dry and furry. His head pounded as if an overenthusiastic drummer was keeping time for a marching band. He rolled out from under the duvet that he had somehow covered himself with during the night, and forced himself upright.

He immediately wished he had stayed horizontal. He held tightly onto the edge of the bed with his legs dangling over the side, and waited for the room to stop spinning. Once his internal gyroscope had righted itself he stood up and offered a prayer to the god of early morning coffee. He gave thanks for small mercies such as kettles, and extra strength Nescafe. He heaped three spoons of instant coffee into his oversize mug, added several sugars, and silently screamed at the kettle to boil the water quicker. The kettle finally clicked off and Dylan filled his mug.

He normally savoured his first coffee of the day, but all he wanted was to get the caffeine into his bloodstream as quickly as possible. If he'd had hypodermic needle handy, then Dylan would have injected the coffee to get it to work its magic quicker. When the coffee was gone, he fumbled in his medicine box for some aspirin and swallowed two.

He ambled to the shower room, cursing nine o'clock lectures. Ten minutes later, when he was back in his room, he considered facing breakfast.

"Even if it's just a bowl of cornflakes," his mom had once said to him, "make sure that you have something to eat each morning. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Don't forget that."

Dylan thought that he could manage some cornflakes. When he and Dave got down to the canteen, cornflakes had turned into bacon and eggs. His head seemed to be pounding a little less but he still found it difficult to concentrate in his first lecture.

Dylan and Mark always did the same thing on Wednesday afternoons. A game of badminton, dinner, and then football practice. But Toni was also a member of the badminton club. She and Dylan had been playing together recently, so both Mark and Dylan decided to avoid a potentially awkward confrontation and skip badminton.

Instead, they played Street Fighter in Dylan's room. Mike cancelled football practice until after Christmas as a reward for the thumping they had given Cardiff University the week before. So after a hearty diner of chips with chips and a side order of chips, the pair returned to Dylan's room with Andy and Rich.

Later in the evening, Andrea, Jo and Natalie came looking to see if anyone was going to the pub, but no one was interested. The three girls settled down in Dylan's room with everyone else. Jo had obviously been paying some attention the night before, because when it was her turn on the game she beat Mark, Andy and Rich, and only just lost to Dylan.

Thursday's lab session flew by in something of a blur. Before he knew it, Dylan packed up and left his last lecture of the term. He hurried back to the hall to get ready for the ball. It was Friday, and with his parents not expecting him home until Sunday, Dylan had all day Saturday to recover. He had the feeling that he might need it.

The Christmas Rugby Club Ball was the traditional end to the first term. It was a formal occasion and the attendees took a great deal of pride in their appearance. Dylan and the other boys on the ground floor were not about to ignore the unwritten university rule. Nevertheless, they all agreed to let Nat take a shower first, since she would almost certainly take the longest to get ready. She disappeared to Jo's room after showering, to dress and make the final spectacular additions to her outfit.

To save arguments, the boys drew lots to determine the order of shower use. After an hour or so, Dylan had showered, shaved and changed. He joined the others in slapping each other on the back and complimenting themselves on how good they looked in their finery.

Toni, Julie, Kerry and Stacey took twice as long to get ready as the boys on the ground floor. They had fought over the showers, shouted to each other from one room to the next and rushed back and forth comparing outfits, hairstyles and makeup.

Julie was the worst offender. She was indecisive at the best of times, and had had to hire two ball gowns because she couldn't decide between them and the shop owner had wanted to close. She changed in and out of both dresses several times before settling on a long black number, with thin straps and a tight bustier.

"It holds in my flab," she told Toni.

Kerry had chosen a similar dress. But while Julie's hung loosely from her hips, Kerry's stayed tight around her legs.

"I have no idea how I'm going to handle stairs in this," she said.

Stacey's outfit was the most daring. Her crimson cocktail dress was low cut. The wide straps allowed her to wear her favourite undergarment, her WonderBra. This gave her ample bosom considerable uplift. The effect was to create a cleavage that most red-blooded males would have killed for get close to. Stacey was never one to be accused of under doing things. The dress was scandalously short at the front, barely covering her stocking tops. It tapered down to point somewhere behind her calves.

The three girls waited for in Julie's room for Toni. They had all had a hand in helping her get ready, but none had yet seen the final effect.

Toni swept into the room and there was a collective intake of breath.

The dress was a dark green satin, so deep was the colour that it could have easily been mistaken for black were it not for the way it shimmered as the light caught it when she walked. Highly detailed embroidery covered the corset style bustier that Julie had had to lace Toni into. It helped to emphasise her figure, pulling her in at the waist. From her hips, the dress hung loose as it fell to the floor.

Her usual delicate makeup was immaculate, thanks to Stacey. Her lips were a little more red than normal. In Stacey's words, the stronger colour gave her 'kissable lips' rather than 'blow job lips'. Kerry had teased Toni's hair onto the top of her head, and then allowed several strands of it to hang in loose ringlets down her back.

Toni smiled at the others as they drank in her appearance, "Well?" she asked.

"Stunning," said Julie.

"You look a million dollars," said Kerry.

"Magnificent," said Stacey. "Absolutely magnificent. If Dylan doesn't come crawling back with you looking like that, then he's either blind or gay."

"Do you really think he'll come back to me?"

"Men are predictable, especially when they see a pretty girl. And the better she looks, the more the trouser department does the thinking, if you know what I mean. Now, do you remember what to say to him when he comes sniffing around?"

"Take me to bed or loose me forever?"

"No," Stacey corrected. "You tell him to get lost. He's had his chance and he's blown it. Then you pick up some other lucky guy and snog his face off."

"I don't know Stacey, I mean..."

"Well I do," Stacey interrupted. "Look, Toni, I've been where you are now. Pining after some worthless guy that just dumped me. In fact I haven't just been there, I visited the little souvenir shop around the corner and brought a T-shirt, a mug, some postcards and one of those stupid little key rings that are really pens, but that you can't write with 'cause they're the wrong shape.

"If you want to spend the rest of your life brooding then fine, don't listen to me. But, if you want to get over him and get on with enjoying your life, then you need to do what I tell you, when I tell you, and believe me, you will. Now..." She clasped her hands together to signify then end of the discussion. "I say we get this party started. There's Champagne in the fridge if someone can get it."

"Champagne?" said Kerry.

"Well, it's actually Italian Spurmante. I couldn't afford the French stuff, but it's white and it's got bubbles in it, so as far as I'm concerned it's Champagne."

Toni hurried off to fetch the bottle.

Once she was gone, Julie turned to Stacey. "Do you think it's a good idea to put ideas in her head like that? Dylan isn't going to come crawling back to her."

"I suppose you'd know, being so friendly with him and all. Besides, if he does then she can give him the brush off and she'll get over him sooner. But, if he doesn't, then so what? I'm gonna make sure that Toni's having too good a time to even notice."

The lads on the ground floor attempted to start the evening in a civilised way by opening a bottle of Australian red wine. But it sat on the worktop in the kitchen, ignored in favour of the bottle of Jack Daniels that Dave had supplied.

They were slightly merry and becoming quite raucous when Natalie arrived back on the floor from Rendell, with Jo and Andrea in tow as usual. Jo and Nat were wearing similar gowns, long, straight and strapless. Natalie's was lush red velvet, while Jo's was dark blue velvet. Most of the boys fussed over Natalie. Dylan made a point of complimenting Jo. He knew she sometimes felt in Nat's shadow.

He put on a mock upper-crust accent. "Well, Miss Alford, I must say that you look splendid this evening."

In her best Southern Belle, Jo replied, "Why thank you kind sir. And if I may be so bold, you look mighty fine yourself, Mr Thomas."

Resorting to working class northern, Dylan said, "Nah, I don't scrub up too bad, do I?"

They smiled at each other and lapsed into a comfortable silence. They half listened to Nat as she lapped up the comments from her admirers. Dylan broke it by offering to get Jo a drink.

"I don't really like whisky. Isn't there anything else?"

"There's some red wine that nobody wants."

"That'll do."

Dylan filled a glass and handed it to her.

"Jo, I wanted to thank you for the other night. I know that we didn't exactly solve all the world's problems, and god knows I was hung over in the morning, but it was just what I needed. You always seem to be there just when I need you, and I appreciate that. I really do."

"I know. And thanks. I hope that you return the favour if I ever need it. Not that I would ever want to need it, if you know what I mean. This wine is very strong isn't it?"

"Well, you are knocking it back a bit quickly. Do you want another?"

"Please."

Dylan scurried away and returned with the bottle from which he refilled Jo's empty glass.

"I meant what I said by the way, I wasn't just being nice. You really do look lovely tonight. I can't believe you don't have a date."

"I told you, I sworn off men for the time being."

"Well, if you find yourself without a dance partner later, come and drag me away from the footy boys. Come to think of it, give me an hour and then come and drag me away anyway. I don't think I could spend the whole night playing their stupid drinking games."

"Okay. Look, everyone's leaving. We better go too."

For what seemed like the first time since they had arrived in Aberystwyth way back in September, the weather was kind to the town's besieged residents. It was bitterly cold, with the wind blowing in from the north, but the sky above the campus was clear. The moon bathed everything in cold, dim light. A light frost made the pavement sparkle and tinted the grass white. Dylan looked out over sea and noticed dark clouds gathering on the horizon.

He walked next to Jo. Frank, Andy and Rich were flanking Natalie at the head of the group. Dave had disappeared, Dylan assumed to meet up with Kerry.

Andrea and Mark walked arm in arm a few paces behind the lead group.

Dylan nudged Jo with his elbow and nodded behind him. "Look at those two. I never knew."

"That's because you've been too caught up with your own problems. They've been getting closer for weeks."

Suddenly, Jo lost her footing. She had slipped on a patch of black ice. Her foot flew out in front of her and she lost her balance. Dylan caught her before she fell on her back.

"That was close."

"Yeah. Thanks, Dil."

Dylan held Jo for a moment longer than necessary before helping her upright. He saw the moon reflected in her eyes and realised, not for the first time, how beautiful she was.

She dusted herself down, and re-adjusted her dress. Those in front had stopped walking when they heard her squeal. Mark and Andrea had caught them up.

"You okay?" Andrea asked.

"I'm fine. Really. Knew I should have worn my flats instead of heels. I never could get the hang of them."

The group were ushered into the ball less than ten minutes later after presenting their tickets to the doorman.

"Shall we put our coats in the cloakroom?" Natalie asked.

"You're kidding," said Rich. "A pound for some bugger to look after my coat is too steep for me."

"It's free tonight," said Jo.

"So it should be," said Frank. "The tickets were pricey enough as it is."

The group forced their way upstairs to the main bar after checking their coats.

"Sparky! DT! Over here!" It was the footy club captain.

Dylan and Mark went over to him. "What's up, Skip?" Dylan asked.