I woke up the next morning, in that all-too-familiar Kindle-kissing pose, and resolved to make a friend on my course. Yes, I know how sad it sounds that I had been at university for two weeks and hadn’t really done more than have the occasional conversation about the work set.
The truth is I don’t like going up to people I don’t know and trying to talk to them, waiting for that moment: the moment when their eyes zero in on my neck and then cloud over with something like pity. Maybe the childhood taunts have long since ended, but in many ways, they were better than the sideways glances and unspoken questions it raises. Were you born with it? Why don’t you cover it up? Can’t you get it removed? Jake can nickname it my heart-mark as much as he wants, but I’m still the one who has to live with people looking at it, not into my eyes.
So I don’t know why I was surprised that, since starting at uni, I had felt lost without Cass. When she had opted to go to Birmingham instead of Brighton, I completely understood her reasons after everything that had happened. But that meant I found myself alone, without someone who understood me. She was my conspirator, my confidante, my best friend who could be relied on to tell me what I needed to be told.
Me: Txt me when u r up x
Cass: I’m up. Got lecture at 9. You okay? Bit early for you! xx
Me: Not really. Can I ring? x
My phone vibrated with Cass’s call. Her shock at hearing about me and Jake took me by surprise. I had expected that Jake would have been in touch with Flynn. Clearly he didn’t have the balls to tell his best friend, my brother, what he had done. I thought he was better than that. However upset I was with him, I couldn’t deny that the Jake I knew had strong principles and had never before shied away from doing the right thing, even when it cost him personally. Like the promise he had made his dad: he still kept it, even though it was the na?ve promise of a child, desperately trying to make his dad’s last moments happy.
Cass ended the call with a promise to ring again that evening, giving me something to focus on as I fought to get through the day.
Arriving outside the lecture theatre for my Introduction to American Studies class, I paused, took a deep breath and walked in, trying to project an aura of confidence I didn’t feel. Scanning the rows, I saw a space next to a girl who reminded me of Cass. Taking it as a sign, I walked over and sat in the empty chair.
“Hi,” I said, pulling out my notebook and pen.
“Hi,” she replied, but angling her body away slightly. Unwilling to give in yet, I persevered.
“I quite like this tutor, don’t you? I could listen to his voice for ages.” God, where did that come from? Probably the place called Make Yourself Look Inane in One Easy Step.
“Uh, suppose so. Personally, I find it a little bit grating. I can’t believe how many of the tutors are American.”
“Well, it is an American Studies course.” I tried hard to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
“Yeah, but why on Earth would they come over here to live, you know, like, when they could be, like, in America?” At this point she (I never did find out her name) took out her mobile and started texting. Taking the hint, I titled my notes page and waited for the lecture to start. Cass she certainly wasn’t.
I let the tutor’s Southern drawl wash over me, pen on auto-pilot for the hour. At the end of the lecture, I watched others leave, trying to identify who could be the next victim of the Neve-Needs-Friends initiative. Spotting a couple with no discernible sociopathic tendencies, I resolved to sit by one of them next time and left without acknowledging Cass-she-isn’t.
I wandered out of the building but, knowing I couldn’t cope with the quiet solitude of the library, I had nowhere to go and nobody to be with. They didn’t show moments like this in the glossy university brochures and cheesy online adverts. No, it was all about the exciting places you’d visit and new friends you’d meet. Bollocks. Jake had been the only thing to get me through the first couple of weeks and now even he was gone.
With a few hours to fill before my English class, and from some perverse need to relive one of my few treasured Brighton moments, I took the campus bus and got off at the seafront. Walking along toward the West Pier, I remembered the time I had spent on the beach with Jake. Especially the night I had fallen asleep on him, shattered after hours dancing at one of the beach-front clubs.