Date Point: First Contact Day, 6y AV
HMS Sharman, Cimbrean, The Far Reaches
Owen Powell
“I’m glad that’s out of the way.”
Powell chuckled. He’d worked under Admiral Patrick Knight before, when the man had been a Commodore. Knight was his opposite in many ways: where Powell was wiry, intense and shaven, Knight was a slender beanpole who wore a white moustache and a relaxed demeanour. They had in common a hatred of needless ceremony—both were men of deed rather than pomp. “It was a good speech.” he reassured the admiral.
“I should damn well hope so.” Knight chuckled. “Interest you in a drink, Major? You really shouldn’t accept a promotion without celebrating it somehow.”
“I don’t really have enough mates for a wetting down.” Powell said.
“Hence a snifter of Brandy with a posh old dinosaur like me instead.” Knight winked.
”…Aye, alright. Got to mark the occasion sometime.”
“Knew you’d come around.” Knight fished out some cut glass tumblers and a decanter. Knowing the admiral, they’d been among the very first things he’d unpacked. “You must be pleased with yourself. This is quite a command you’ve landed.”
“Oh aye.” Powell agreed, watching him pour. “A promotion and five times as much paperwork? I’m living the dream.”
Knight chuckled quietly. “That you are. Do you have any idea how much there is to do in upgrading this camp into a full blown HMS?”
“Why d’you think I’m volunteering to go through a couple of years of hard training instead?”
This got a full-fledged laugh, and Knight handed him his drink. “I appreciate that you’re the only man with ANY experience of commanding the kind of operations this Regiment of yours will be conducting” he said “but are you absolutely SURE you’re up to this, Powell? Those men are going to need somebody they can respect and follow without question, and that means you’ll need to keep up with them in training. Physically speaking…”
Powell raised a hand. “I’m not as young as I once was.” he agreed. “But I’ll either clear that training or die trying, you can bet your life savings on that one, sir.”
“Knowing you, you mean that literally.” Knight raised his glass. “To the former, then.”
Powell met the toast. “Aye.”
Date Point: 6y 5m AV
“Miss Ava Rios, 20 Delaney Row, Folctha, Cimbrean CIFO11 3BQ
Dear Ava,
I am delighted to offer you a place on our BA Journalism (Hons) course, reflecting the glowing praise given by your senior school teacher Dr. J. Olmstead and the high academic performance you have been able to demonstrate. While we regret not being able to interview you in person, we felt that your application letter showed you to be erudite and charming, and we hope to see you at the start of the semester on September 17th of this year.
Please find enclosed your full admissions package and the details of what you will need to do in order to confirm your place on our course.
Yours sincerely,
Jennifer Roberts, Admissions Officer City University London.
Date Point: 6y 6m AV
Kirtland Air Force Base, New Mexico, USA, Earth
Adam Arés
“You realise you guys are crazy, right?”
Adam looked up. Like most of the others, he’d been examining the maroon beret in his hands for most of the evening, scarcely able to believe he was finally holding it, gently feeling the fabric, and just appreciating it.
Tony Collins high-fived him. Collins was one of the majority who were staying on as full-time PJs, and Adam had a huge amount of respect for all of them. They took the creed seriously.
“Guess we are.” he agreed. BASEBALL was on Skype to his mother back in LA, but there was no doubt who the other half of the “you guys” plural that Collins had used was meant to be.
“You’re gonna be old men before you’re even done training.” Collins added, sitting down. “I don’t know how you’ve got the patience for it.”
“Twenty-three ain’t old.” Adam told him.
“It’ll fuckin’ feel like it by the time you’re mission ready.” Collins retorted. “Where are you shipping out to next, anyway?”
“Got some comprehensive armament training and then it’s on to Alabama. Astronaut training in Huntsville.”
“Fuckin’ space cowboys.” Collins chuckled, then held out a hand. Adam stood, shook it, and Collins slammed into him in a vigorous guy-hug. “Hey, you ever decide you want to come back down to Earth, you let me know, Hoss.”
Adam smiled. “Go save lives, man. It’s been a privilege.”
Date Point: 6y 9m AV
“Wow. You really don’t have a lot of stuff, do you?”
Ava’s worldly possessions, in fact, consisted of one suitcase full of clothing, a backpack, and two modest cardboard boxes. Adam owned even less, and most of that had long since been put into storage in the bottom of his dad’s wardrobe, or given to charity.
“Most of the plates and stuff came with the house.” She said, looking around it for probably the last time.
Delaney Row was the last holdout of the little compact portable houses that had been Array-jumped to Folctha during the early days of the colonisation, and those were only holding out while the next housing plan was built. They were marvels of efficient use of space, squeezing two bedrooms, a kitchen, living area and bathroom into a mere double-digit of square footage.
“You’re going to miss this place, aren’t you?” Gabe observed.
“Yeah. I’ve got so used to how everything just sort of hides away or pulls double-duty.” She agreed, demonstrating how the steps up into her bedroom were also the bookshelf and the fridge door. She sighed, and took down the last thing—an oval of varnished Pinkwood with the word “EDEN” pyrographed into its surface that had been hanging from the door ever since they’d first arrived.
She put it on top of the smaller box, the one full of things she was leaving for Gabriel and Jess to look after, then stood in the middle of the room and flapped her arms, once. “Goodbye, house.”
They walked her to the Array terminal and watched through the glass as it activated while she was mid-wave. A cuboid of perfect blackness filled the jump room, and when it collapsed out of existence, it took her with it.
Gabe sagged, the instant she was gone.
Jess just took his hand and walked him home.
Date Point: 6y 9m AV
Huntsville, Alabama, USA, Earth
“Aw man, you guys got here first? I was hoping for a good bed!”
There was some laughter, and the four men from Delta Force who had been squaring their stuff away dropped what they were doing to welcome Adam and BASEBALL.
“They’re all good beds.” One of them promised. “So you’re our PJs? Jeez, you guys look like you could rip a steer in half.”
“We both got plenty of gains in us yet.” BASEBALL noted. “You guys’re on the Crue-D too, huh?”
“We all are.” The one with the name ‘Stevenson’ on his chest declared. “You think we’re gonna get bigger?”
“Shit yeah!” BASEBALL enthused. “WARHORSE here’s gonna be the fuckin’ freak, though. Stumpy-ass midget fucker’s got the mechanical advantage.”
“WARHORSE?” Sergeant Akiyama gave Adam a questioning look, as Adam gave his friend a cheerful middle finger.
“Cause he can carry a lotta heavy shit.” BASEBALL told them, sparing Adam’s blushes for once.
“We’re gonna need it.” Vandenberg commented. Adam got the feeling that where the other three had sized him up—as he had to them in turn—Vandenberg was evaluating him. Not maliciously, but it was telling that Stevenson, Sikes and Akiyama glanced at him as if to gauge his opinion. It was a subtle, deferential bit of body language that Adam almost missed. They shook hands. “You guys heard anything about the suits we’ll be wearing yet?”
“Only a guesstimate of the weight.” Adam told him.
“Yeah, I did some digging. Word is the designer’s a guy called Andrew Cavendish, and everything I could find about the guy says that’s not a guesstimate. He’ll have had the weight of that suit down to ten decimal places long before they built a prototype.”
“You dig up our itinerary for the week in all that research?” BASEBALL asked him
“Nope. Guess nobody’s made an extravehicular special forces unit before, so it’s all being played by ear. Heard we’re all arriving today though, and my guess is we’ll be doing some PT after everyone’s in and stowed away. Maybe a speech from the old man first, you know how it goes.”
There was some nodding. “Guess we’d better get our shit away.” Adam said.
“Top bunk!” BASEBALL called, dashing towards an unclaimed dorm room. The others nodded, waved and wandered off to carry on their chores.
”…He knows we’ve all got our own room, doesn’t he?” Akiyama asked.
“Ah, that’s just a tradition of his.” Adam replied, flinging his own bag over his shoulder and heading for the door next to BASEBALL’s. “I got the top bunk in basic, he reckons it should have been his, ‘cause he’s taller, so…”
“So he grabs it first. Right.”
“I’ll be right back. Better unload my stuff.”
“Sure. We’ve got a couple hours before the Controllers and the Brits arrive, we were gonna watch Zombie Shark Three. Sound good?”
“Sounds fucking terrible.” Adam replied. “I’m in.”
Date Point: 6y 9m AV
London, England, Earth
Ava Rios
“Hello?”
Ava had been dreading what the halls of residence might be like. There had been horror stories all over the Internet, which was why she’d saved up her teaching money to get herself some of the really good ones in the colourful new building.
Frankly, the space could have been put to much better use. If it had been designed with the same efficiency and folding-away that “Eden” had boasted, she could have had a whole house in that room. But it would do, if kept tidy.
She’d been hanging up her clothes when the ‘hello?’ had arrived simultaneously with a knock on the door, which, being ajar, swung inwards cautiously.
“Ooh! Roommate!”
Ava waved hello. The girl who’d opened the door was tall, somewhere upwards of six feet, every inch of which lived in her thistledown-light long limbs. Between her straight ash-blonde hair, dazzling blue eyes, nordic skin and the diaphanous, layered pale blue summer dress she was wearing, she would have been intimidatingly pretty if not for her unreservedly friendly smile and bare feet.
“Hi.” Ava said, offering a cautious wave.
“Hello.” the blonde girl greeted her. She had a high, musical voice and a cultured accent. “How are you setting in? Have you been here long?”
“I just got here.” Ava revealed, indicating her suitcase and cardboard box on the bed. “I don’t have a lot of stuff with me.”
“Oh, you are so lucky, my parents wouldn’t let me leave home without…everything! My room’s a tip!”
Ava laughed, and stuck out a hand. “Ava.”
“Hi Ava! I’m Charlotte.” came the reply, along with a handshake that was every bit as delicate as the girl herself. “You’re American!”
“Cimbrean, actually.” Ava told her, deciding that first introductions were probably not a great time to mention San Diego.
”…As in, the planet Cimbrean? Oh my God!” Charlotte scooted into the room and sat eagerly on Ava’s desk chair, immediately confirming Ava’s suspicion that she was the kind of person who made friends instantly, whether or not the friend in question agreed.
Fortunately, she was in a mood to make friends, and Charlotte seemed nice.
Charlotte leaned forward eagerly. “Deets.”
“Deets?”
“Details! What’s it like living on another planet? Are there aliens?”
Ava giggled. “Yeah, there are aliens. They’re Buddhists.”
“Buddhists? Really?”
“Oh yeah. And you can get high off the local tea. And the capitol city’s called Folctha, which is the Irish word for ‘bath’, because the lady who named it walked half-way round the planet to get to that bath and was in it when the soldiers arrived to found the colony.”
“Wow!”
Despite Ava’s best efforts to make it all sound incredible, Charlotte looked like she believed every word without question. “Okay,” Ava asked her. “Where are you from?”
“Newcastle. Up north, I know I don’t sound it, we moved up there when I was seven.”
“I wouldn’t know the difference.” Ava confessed. “I’ve never been to England before.”
“Oh. Well, it sounds…” Charlotte cleared her throat, and spoke in a rounder, impenetrable accent. “…‘Ahreet, ahya coominoot thaneet?”
Ava raised a hand to cover her laugh, and decided that she liked Charlotte, who’d bobbled her head and made a silly face during her imitation. “Okay, what did that mean?”
“Darling, you simply must come and have a drink with me on the town this evening.” Charlotte explained, employing a bourgeois motion of the hand and a toss of her head to punctuate the word ‘must’, and beamed when Ava giggled. “Daddy wanted me to be an actress.” she revealed. “I think he’s a bit put out that I’d rather be a midwife.”
Ava nodded. “I’m doing journalism.” she replied.
“So, are we having that drink?”
“We…? Oh. Yeah. We can! I keep forgetting I’m old enough to drink in this country.” She nodded. “Can I have a few minutes to finish putting my stuff away? Then sure, let’s go have fun.”
“Don’t be too long!” Charlotte told her, and skipped out of the room to grab her coat, shoes and handbag.
Ava watched her go, smiling, and hurried to finish hanging up her shirts.
Date Point: 6y 9m AV
Huntsville Alabama, USA, Earth
Adam Arés.
ROAR!
CRUNCH!!
“JOHN!!! NOOOOO!!!!“
BASEBALL lost it, covered his face with one hand and writhed in his seat, wheezing a laugh deep in his gut. “Oh my fucking…”
“He’s actually milking the giant cow.” Adam noted, folding his arms and throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling rather than the farce on screen. The whole movie was bad to the point of hilarity, leaving all six of them in varying stages of laughter, from BASEBALL’s high-pitched Muttley snicker, to Vandenberg’s nasal explosions.
Stevenson wiped away a tear. “Man, fucking…oh my God.” his voice had gone up about an octave. “This has GOT to be deliberate.”
“Of course it is.” Vandenberg said. “Come on, you don’t think they took this shit seriously do you?”
“Just be tragic if they had.” Akiyama agreed.
“Ah, shit…” Adam grabbed the remote, spying movement out the corner of his eye through the window. “I think the old man’s here early.”
There was a general looking-around and standing-up as it became apparent that he was right, a group of men were on the path round the side of the dorm building, carrying bags.
They were up and waiting when the door opened therefore, to admit four men that Adam didn’t recognise and, bringing up the rear, Legsy.
“Wa-HEY!!” the huge Brit pounced on Adam and tried to hoist him up in a hug, only just managing it. “Fuckin’ look at you, pal!” He delivered a friendly punch to the arm. “Knew you had it in you!”
Adam laughed and returned the show of affection with a high-five that turned into a shoulder-barging hug, which was interrupted by a cry of “Room, ten-SHUT!”
Everyone snapped to attention.
“Stand at ease.”
Eleven boots shifted sideways by a synchronized shoulder-width as Major Owen Powell nodded his satisfaction and strolled into the middle of the room, the very picture of a confident and seasoned officer inspecting his subordinates for the first time. He looked good, Adam realised. Powell had never looked frail, but presumably he was on the Crue-D too—he’d gained some serious muscle mass, and several of the lines in his face were gone, or much reduced. He looked younger, fiercer and stronger.
“Arés. Burgess.” he greeted them, favouring Adam with a nod. “Settling in well?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” The major turned and addressed everyone. “Stand easy, lads.” He ordered.
Everyone unwound a little bit, adjusted their clothes, and settled into a relaxed but alert posture with their hands resting lightly in the small of their backs, paying attention.
“I won’t keep you long.” Powell told them, finding a spot where they could all face him and be faced in turn. “Today’s a rest and social day, just get to know one another. We’ll be doing intensive PT throughout the rest of this week and some confidence-building, but for now, introductions.”
“For those who don’t know me, my name is Major Owen Powell, Royal Marines Special Boat Service. My service history includes the Persian Gulf, Operation Elder Grove, Kenya, and Cimbrean. I am, for the time being, the only commissioned officer in the SOR: When and how that changes is still being discussed. Master Sergeant Jones here-” he indicated Legsy “Is your NCOIC.”
He looked around. “I appreciate that with eight of you being American, you may not be certain about having a British commanding officer. I intend to demonstrate that I can hang with the best of them and that I got this position on merit. By the time we’re done here, I’ll have certified to operate a spacesuit alongside you, and will have undergone Crue-D aggressive training just like everyone else.”
Adam nodded slightly, pleased to hear it. He’d guessed that Powell would stand for nothing less, but it was good to hear the major confirm it.
For his part, Powell seemed satisfied that he’d said enough. “We’ll be discussing our full itinerary tomorrow after morning PT. This whole project is uncharted territory, so you’re going to be heavily involved in getting things set up, figuring out what roles we fill and how we’re going to set about getting the best of our training opportunities. We’ll get it right, and between us we’ll set up a unit that’ll be the pride and envy of the galaxy. Arright?”
There was a chorused. “Yes sir!”
“Good. Legsy, you know how to reach me if I’m needed. The rest of you—As you were. Have fun.”
Everyone relaxed once the door closed behind him.
“So yeah, that’s the old man.” Legsy commented, grinning. “Relax boys, I’ve worked with him for years. We’re in fuckin’ good hands.”
Vandenberg nodded. “I was wondering what he’d be like. Nice to meet you, Master Sergeant.”
”‘Ey, I’m Legsy to everybody, even my Nan, God rest ‘er.” Legsy protested, though he shook Vandenberg’s hand, and those of the other Deltas.
The other four men that Adam didn’t recognise turned out to be their two Combat Controllers—Scott Blaczynski and Christian Firth—and two more Special Boat Service operators, Leo Price and Robert Murray.
“So…no offense to you guys or anything, but how come we don’t got no Seals in this unit?” Sikes asked. He’d so far been the quiet one of the Deltas, content to let everyone else do the talking.
“USN didn’t sign up to the Regiment.” Murray said. He too was a quiet one, a soft-spoken Scot with a nasty scar down the length of one forearm. It must have been an old one, maybe even pre-dating his military career, or else the Crue-D treatment would have softened and faded it.
“They got a rationale for that, that you know of?” Vandenberg asked.
“What I heard was that we’re goin’ tae need more than one kind of operator out there.” Murray shrugged. “Us here? We’re all goin’ tae be bloody huge by the time we’re done. That’s no good for a Seal. They need to stay normal-sized. But on the other hand, they’ll have the stickin’ power for long deployments, which we won’t.”
Vandenberg nodded. “Right. I don’t care if we find a Class Three where squirrels made of peanut butter jump into our mouths, we’re not gonna be breaking even for calories on any op we do.” He nodded towards Adam. “Especially not the PJs.”
“Bloody right.” Murray agreed, looking to Adam. “You’re volunteering to carry the rest of us? You’re fuckin’ crazy, pal.”
Adam gave a self-deprecating little shrug and looked around the room. Legsy was unpacking an old PS3, which BASEBALL, Firth and Akiyama were practically salivating over. Stevenson and Price, meanwhile, were setting up in the kitchen ready to prepare their first barracks dinner, an occasion which Stevenson had marked by donning a pink gingham apron.
”…I think we all are.” he said.
Date Point: 6y 9m AV
Saddlers Bar, CULSU student bar, London, England, Earth
Ava Rios
“So…not a wine fan, huh?”
Ava shook her head apologetically and handed over the glass. “I think I’ll keep it in church.” she said, licking her lips to try and get rid of the aftertaste. If that was alcohol, she was beginning to wonder what the appeal might be.
Charlotte nodded, finished the wine, then spied something over Ava’s shoulder and did an admirable impression of a magpie catching sight of something shiny. “Ooh! Boy candy!”
Ava turned reflexively to frown at whatever Charlotte was staring at, not really seeing anything. “What?”
“The two in the waistcoats by the bar?” Charlotte insisted, though she sounded more amused than impatient.
Ava finally saw them. “Oh.” she turned back to Charlotte, who rolled her eyes.
“Really?” she demanded.
“What?”
“They’re pretty!” Charlotte insisted.
“They’re stick thin!” Ava objected.
“What, don’t tell me you’re into fat guys?”
“I’m into a guy who can pick me up.” Ava replied, allowing herself the luxury of a boast and a sly smile. That little experiment had been especially fun. Charlotte rewarded her with a mock-scandalized pantomime, raising her fingertips to her open mouth, mimicking a little gasp and raising her eyebrows.
“Okay.” she demanded. “Deets.”
“What? My boyfriend can pick me up.” Ava feigned innocence, then relented and allowed her sultry smile to show. “Against a wall. For, like, half an hour.”
“You’re making that up!” Charlotte scoffed.
“Well…It felt like half an hour, anyway.” Ava conceded. She hadn’t exactly been watching the clock for an objective assessment.
“Wow…” Charlotte drifted off into a fantasy fugue for a second. “Still…I want that blond one.” she looked over Ava’s shoulder at the ‘boy candy’ again.
Ava examined Charlotte’s choice. He was about six feet tall, well-groomed and sporting some slightly retro stubble and the kind of fashionable haircut and makeup that would have looked very strange ten years ago. Good-looking, but in a kind of slim, metrosexual way. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing tattoos that looked like they went all the way up.
His friend was taller, darker of hair and paler of skin with a distinctively straight nose and a square jaw that looked a bit out of place on his otherwise rail-thin frame.
As Ava watched, the oriental dragon coiled around the blond’s left arm moved its head and flicked a serpentine tongue.
“Wait, what the fuck, his tattoo’s animated?” she asked
“Yeah! Nanotattoos! Don’t you have those in space yet?”
“We don’t even have the old-fashioned ink kind in Folctha.” Ava revealed. “So, what, he’s got nanites under his skin?”
“Yep. And you can upload pictures and designs from your phone.” Charlotte tugged down the neck of her dress slightly, revealing a fairy on her breast, who flapped her wings and ran a hand through her hair. She plucked her phone from inside her bra and fiddled with it, cycling the decoration through a cluster of hearts, a butterfly and a fish before returning to the fairy. All of the different designs were animated.
“Are those even safe?” Ava asked, still reeling from the revelation that they even existed.
“Safer than the ink kind, they’re all hypoallergenic and stuff. And you can just turn them off if you want to be neat for a job interview or something.” Charlotte said. “You should get one!”
“Boy candy, remember?” Ava changed the subject.
“Oh, right!” Charlotte knocked back the last of her drink and adjusted her dress some more so as to ensure that her tattoo (and more importantly its canvas) was prominently on display. “Would you be a darling and fly wing-girl?”
Ava froze. “I’ve never flown wing-girl in my life!”
“It’s easy, just talk to his friend.”
“How do I…?”
“Relax.” Charlotte gave her best winning smile. “I’ll break the ice.”
She grabbed Ava’s hand and towed her to the bar, and interrupted the ‘boy candy’s conversation with a friendly. “Hi! I’m Charlotte, I’m from Newcastle. This is Ava—she’s from outer space.”
Ava could only give them an apologetic smile and a shrug.
Up close, she had to admit that Charlotte was right: they were pretty. The taller one with the dark hair, who was wearing a silver waistcoat and bottle-green jeans, shook their hands smiling a relaxed and amused smile. “Hello Charlotte from Newcastle and Ava from outer space.” he said, “I’m Sean from Finchley, and this is Ben from…actually where are you from, Ben?”
“Southampton.” Ben replied, treating Charlotte to a handsome half-smile that was the exact masculine answer to her own flirtatious stance. Sean looked between them, then caught Ava’s gaze and rolled his eyes. “I’ll get the drinks in then, shall I?” He offered.
Ava suppressed a laugh. “I’ll join you.”
They left Ben and Charlotte to go through the motions of getting to know one another and retreated to the bar.
“So…Outer space?” Sean asked.
“Cimbrean.”
“Really? Dench!” He beamed. “What’s it like out there?”
Ava sighed. “It was beautiful.” she said. “Right now it’s all, kinda like…being built or regrown. All the native plants near Folctha have died and the Terran imports are so young, y’know? It’s going to be a forest eventually but right now it’s just a whole bunch of saplings.
“What really happened to it anyway?”
“What did you hear?” Ava asked.
“That somebody took a dump in the woods.”
“Yep. That’s what really happened.”
Sean burst out laughing. “You’re taking the piss!”
She shrugged. “Nope. That’s what happened. Crazy, huh?”
Sean laughed again and shook his head. “Mad. Anyway: buy you a drink?”
“Sure, but I’m…kinda taken.”
Sean laughed again. He had an easy, light laugh that he seemed to deploy often. “Relax duck, I’m not like them two.” he jerked his thumb toward Ben and Charlotte. “I don’t go from ‘hi there’ to ‘let’s rock the sheets’ in two seconds. What’s yours?”
“My–? Oh, my drink. Uh…Iunno, I’ve never really drunk before.”
“You like cranberry?”
“Sure.”
“Right, Amaretto and cranberry and a Corona and lime then.”
Ava inclined her head. “Why’s that?”
“I like them both so whichever you decide you like, I’ll have the other.” Sean said. He caught the bartender’s eye and placed the order.
“So what’s your other half’s name?” He asked upon turning back to her.
“Adam. Airman Adam Arés, United States Air Force.”
“Yeah? Your bloke’s military? Blates dench.”
Ava shook her head, a little incredulous of the slang. “Okay, okay, what the HELL does ‘Plate stench’ mean?” she demanded.
Sean laughed again as he received the drinks. “Blates. Dench.” he enunciated. “Blatantly awesome. ‘I say old thing, that really is rather amazing’. You see? Anyway, have a sip of these, tell me which you prefer.”
Ava accepted the amaretto-cranberry first and sipped it. It was pleasantly sweet and sort of…nutty? Pastry? The beer on the other hand just made her stick out her tongue and make a sort of ‘nghah!’ sound and she thrust it back into Sean’s hand, drawing another of those easy, light laughs out of him.
He was good for lifting her mood at least, she decided. Her life could do with more laughter.
“What about you?” she asked. “Where’s Finchley?”
“Oh, about ten stops away on the Tube.” he smiled. “Bit closer than Cimbrean.”
“Just a bit!” she agreed.
“What’re you studying?” Sean asked.
“Journalism.”
“Yeah? Same here!”
“Oh, thank God.” she sighed. “I’ll have somebody to sit next to in class.”
“Am I literally the only person you know, then?” Sean asked, then glanced up. “Besides…Charlotte, was it?”
“That’s right. And, yes.”
“What’s she doing?”
“Uh…Midwifery. I think.”
Sean laughed again. “Her? Ditzy.” he declared. “Those babies are gonna come into this world and the first thing they’ll see is her tattoo waving at them.”
Ava glanced across at Charlotte, who couldn’t have been flirting harder if she’d been giving Ben a lapdance. “Hey, she knows what she wants and she goes for it. I kind of admire that.”
“Shall we get back over there before they head back to the dorms?” Sean indicated the drinks.
Ava nodded, pleased to have made a friend. “Good idea.” she said.