“So, that, over there, you see that door? Monique vomited all down it in Freshers’ Week, it was hilarious. Her puke was purple. Like if a magical dinosaur vommed. That’s what we call her now. Barney. Hang on...right you see that building? That’s where I have my lectures. Right, so we’re coming up to the Student Union. We’re going there tonight. What do you think? Do you like it?”

Jessica turned away from the glass. “Yeah, it’s great. It’s...big.”

“You get used to it. I got lost so many times in my first week. But now I know it really well.”

When we got to halls, my nerves ramped up. I so desperately wanted her to approve of it all.

“Here’s my corridor. Oh, here’s Heather! Heather, this is Jessica. My best friend from home.”

Heather was in the middle of carrying a giant bowl of “Grub” to her room and had toothpaste on three spots, but smiled warmly, and held out her spare hand to wave.

“Hi, Jessica, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jessica put on a smile. “You too.”

“You coming out with us tonight? It should be fun. We may end up in the Union because it’s a Saturday. All the fucking residents are out in the clubs at the weekend.”

She nodded again. “Yep. Great.” She said nothing else. Filled no silence whatsoever, so I stumbled into it.

“This is Heather’s grub,” I explained, pointing to her giant bowl of food that looked like sick. “She makes it whenever she can’t be bothered to cook. Heather? Explain what’s in it?”

She held it up to Jessica to see, who peered at it half-heartedly. “Couscous. A can of tuna. Kidney beans. Rocket. And some salad dressing.”

“Isn’t that disgusting?” I asked Jessica, who just smiled again.

“Hey, I won’t be hungry for hours. Right, I better eat this and finish my lab notes before tonight. Nice to meet you, Jessica.”

“You too.”

As Heather kicked her fire door shut, I frantically filled Jessica in on more needless details. “Isn’t she great? I’d say she’s my best friend up here. She was really nice during the Danny stuff too. Kind of there, without being there too much, if that makes sense? Isn’t her grub hilarious? She eats it about five times a week. She’s a medic, so she’s quite good on nutrition. She wants to be a gynecologist and knows so much about the pill. Did you know it can change who you fancy? Right, so here’s my room.” I unlocked the door and beckoned her in. She dropped her suitcase and stared around, and I tried to see it through her eyes. Taking in my posters, my corkboard—hoping she’d notice all the photos of us up there. Her eyes found it and her whole demeanor softened.