Loveless(23)

The girl behind the stall looked a little desperate. ‘I-I think they didn’t have any members in second or first year, so when the third years left, it just – it just disappeared.’

‘And I can’t start it up again?’

‘Um … I don’t know … I don’t really know how it works …’

‘Are you the president? Can I talk to the president?’

‘Um, no, she’s not here …’

‘Oh, never mind. I’ll sort this out another time.’

Rooney stormed towards us, eyes filled with fire. Out of sheer instinct, I cowered backwards.

‘Can you believe,’ she said, ‘the Shakespeare Society is just … fucking … gone? Like, that was the one society I really wanted to join, and now it’s just …’ She stopped, realising that Pip and Jason were standing next to me, staring at Rooney with what could only be described as fascination. ‘Oh. Hello.’

‘All right,’ said Pip.

‘Hi,’ said Jason.

‘How’s Roderick?’ said Pip.

Rooney’s mouth twitched with amusement. ‘I like that your mind immediately went to my house plant rather than asking how I am.’

‘I care about plant welfare,’ Pip replied.

I noticed the cooler tone to her voice immediately. Gone was the flustered way she’d babbled around Rooney back in our bedroom. She wasn’t blushing and adjusting her hair any more.

After what she’d seen in our kitchen, Pip was on the defensive now.

It made me feel sad. But this was what Pip did when she got a crush on someone who couldn’t like her back: she shut down the feelings with sheer willpower.

It protected her.

‘Are you going to call plant social services on me?’ asked Rooney, smiling cheekily. She seemed to be immensely enjoying having someone to banter with, like it was a welcome break from having to be peppy and polite.

Pip tilted her head. ‘Maybe I am plant social services and I’m just in disguise.’

‘It’s not a very good disguise. You look exactly like the sort of person who’s got at least six cactuses on your bookcase.’

This seemed to be the last straw for Pip, because she snapped back, ‘I only have three, actually, and it’s cacti not cactuses –’

‘Uh …’ The two girls were interrupted by Jason, who, if he’d not had a headache before, definitely had one now. ‘So, are you actually gonna sign up to DST, or …?’

‘Yes,’ I said immediately, if only to end whatever weirdly aggressive verbal sparring was occurring between Pip and Rooney.

‘I don’t even know what the point is any more,’ said Rooney with a dramatic sigh. ‘Shakespeare Soc doesn’t even exist. Something about it running out of members.’

‘Can’t you just join something else?’ said Pip, but Rooney looked at her like she’d suggested something infinitely idiotic.

Jason hadn’t even bothered to stay involved in this conversation and had walked over to the DST mailing list. I followed him and he handed me the pen.

‘I didn’t think you’d want to join DST,’ he said, ‘after all the throwing-up during Les Mis.’

‘I still love theatre,’ I said. ‘And I need to join more than just the English Soc.’

‘But you could pick something that didn’t make you throw up.’

‘I’d rather throw up surrounded by friends than join a society alone and be sad.’

Jason paused, then said, ‘I think that sounded more profound in your head than it did in real life.’

I finished writing my email address and put the pen down, glancing up at Jason. He did genuinely seem a bit concerned about me.

‘I want to do this,’ I said. ‘I … I really want to try and … you know. Meet new people and … have a good university experience.’

Jason paused again. Then he nodded, face full of understanding. ‘Yeah. That makes sense.’

We stepped aside to let Pip and Rooney write down their emails on the list, all the while they were having some sort of inane argument about which DST society they should join, and each of them seemed determined to establish that their choice was the correct choice and the other person’s choice was utterly wrong. After several minutes of this, Jason eventually decided to end it by suggesting we all go to get pizza from the Domino’s stand, which was giving out free slices.

‘I’m gonna carry on looking around for a bit,’ said Rooney. She moved her gaze from Pip to me. ‘Meet you at the entrance in like twenty minutes?’

I nodded.

‘Fab.’ Rooney looked back at Pip again and said as if Jason didn’t even exist, ‘How about we all meet up at John’s bar tonight? It’s so fun down there, it’s this tiny little basement bar …’

Most people would not have been able to tell what was up with Pip, but I’d known her for over seven years, and she had this look. A slight narrowing of the eyes. Her shoulders hunched.

The fact of the matter was: Pip had decided to hate Rooney.

‘Yeah, we’ll be there,’ said Pip, folding her arms.

‘Yay,’ said Rooney, smiling wide. ‘Can’t wait.’

Rooney wandered off into the mass of stalls again. Pip, Jason and I headed towards the Domino’s stand, Pip’s eyes never leaving the back of Rooney’s head, and Jason asking Pip, ‘What the fuck was that?’