ABDN (closed)

[Tanned_babe]

Her feet hit the tarmac at a steady beat almost in time with Lady Gaga’s latest single ‘Judas’. A song the young woman would never admit to having on her iPod- it was a good running track, or so she told herself. It was an absolutely beautiful September morning in the Granite City, the sun shining and a nice cooling sea breeze to balance the heat, making it perfect weather to go for a morning run. However this didn’t do much to raise Frankie Copper’s mood. Her mother had insisted she and her step father drove her and her belongings up from home despite numerous attempts to convince them that she could manage on her own, explaining that she had travelled for 18months, living out of a backpack only to be shot down by her mother saying, ‘This isn’t travelling Francesca. This is university!’ To add insult to injury her mother and even step father, Michael were questioning her judgement on the location of the flat with Frankie answering with, ‘It’s cheap and I’m more than capable of walking home on my own in this end of town.’ The four bedroom flat that Frankie was sharing with two boys and another girl of the same persuasion as Frankie was situated on Constitution Road, a rather rough area of Aberdeen with another group of friends living down stairs. It would be a very messy 3rd year.

She had ran the full length of the beach, from Seaton right down to the ‘amusements’, having been brought back to reality by the beeping of her blackberry. Despite seeing it was her mother Frankie answered. She had organised for Michael to take her daughter ‘food’ shopping whilst she ‘cleaned up’ some more. This pleased Frankie greatly as Michael would do anything for a quiet life. The young woman jogged up to the entrance of the supermarket to wait for her step father, casually checking her appearance in the shinny outer glass. Her short hair blonde hair had been ruffled even more so than usual by the prevailing wind and her dark eye liner had blotched just underneath her eyes. “Come on Francesca! You’re mother wants us back in time to go out for lunch.” Her step father barked in her Glaswegian accent. Michael was rather successful man in his own right but with the saving graces of a bull dog. “The number’s 0775, I’ll be in the car. Don’t go mad.” He said again.

Beaming Frankie accepted the gold RBS Credit Card and headed into the supermarket. Returning with a trolley full of chinking bottles and frozen goods a half hour later.


Lying on the grass at King’s College a group of alternative looking students reflected on the raucous four day flat warming bender which had resulted in two police calls, threat of an ASBO, a broken window, the use of September’s student loan instalment and the mother of all hangovers/comedowns.
“When’s the window in your room getting replaced, Franko?” Carlos asked, “You getting your parents to pay for it?”
“Fuck knows, I’ll probably get Michael to pay for it. My room’s bloody freezing. I’ll give him a call once I’ve thought of a good story. Right now though I just want to lye here and try and not throw up.” The blonde girl was stretched out on the grass, her hands draped over her face and head supported by someone’s thigh. “Are you going to call that girl back, Nicky?” It was Nick’s leg supporting Frankie’s head.

“God no, she’s a bit of a bunny boiler. Called me seven times yesterday!” Nicky exclaimed. Nicky was a... creative student some might say. In her three years at Aberdeen she had changed her degree more times than could be counted on one hand. Write now she was focusing on fine art and was the quintessential artist with an odd shaped lilac Mohawk, probably the only person in Aberdeen that could pull such a thing off. A lot curvier than Frankie the girl had a womanly figure which was more often hidden, much like Frankie, under jeans. “Where are we going tonight?”

“Drummonds? Three Trapped Tigers are playing there. Those guys are always worth a look.” Carlos said. “Might keep off the spirits though, eh?”

“Yeah sounds grand. Unfortunately I have rather stupidly agreed to cover someone’s lunch break at the societies fair. So I’m off to get some kiddies to join the photography society, woop-de-fucking-do.” Frankie got up, brushed herself off and walked in the direction of the playing fields.

The place was hoaching with first years, it was hot and sweaty and the last place on earth Frankie wanted to be when she felt this shit. Taking a deep breath she pushed past a crowd of boys and started towards the back of the hall, doing her best to avoid fliers and promos. “Frankie. Frankie” Spinning round the young woman noticed she has just walked past the LGBT Society. Her friend Darren, the president, was beckoning her over. “Joining us this year, babe?” He asked as he embraced the young woman.

“No, no Darren.” Frankie smiled, declining the invitation in her non-descript English accent. “Not my thing, I don’t like the segregation it puts between us. You know that. Anyway, good summer?”

“Aye alright Frankie, it’s got zilch to do with the segregation, it’s the fact you’ve shagged 50% of the society.” He laughed, prodding her bicep playfully. “But yeah, yeah, alright. I ended up in Edinburgh at Morgan Stanley for six weeks in a paid internship. So that was really insightful. How about yourself?”

“Thirty percent, I wouldn’t shag 20% of the ‘girls’ in your society.” She said a bit too loudly, receiving a disapproving glare from the girl working the stall who was most definitely not Frankie’s type. “Yeah my summer was ace thanks, was out in India for 6 weeks and also got to Bestival before coming back up here. Anyways Darren, I have to dash. Send me a message and we’ll party soon.”

Frankie spotted Andreas, an Italian, at the back of the tent, with the banner ‘Come and Join the Photography Society!!!’ above his head. She moved through the crowd and was met by a relieved smile. “Frankie! Where have you been?! I go get lunch!!” And with that he was off. ‘Nice to see you too’ Frankie thought to herself as she sat down on the plastic seat. Her headache was getting worse, the noise, smell and heat from within the large tent all working as catalysts to fuel her hangover. The young woman slouched down in the chair and put her large black head phones over her head in an attempt to a) drown out the noise and b) ward off anyone who may wish to talk to her.
She had no idea how long she had been slouched in the chair with her eyes closed, probably about 30 minutes judging on how many ‘Sounds’ tracks had been played. Sitting up just in time the blonde girl whipped off the headphones and got some random child to take a few leaflets just as the Italian sat back down with two cups of coffee. “Nice one Andy!” Frankie said, accepting the hot drink. “Anyways, I’m off. I’ll see you a week on Wednesday, son.”

“What? You are not staying to ‘elp?” He stammered.

“Can’t my man.” Frankie said, placing her headphones over her ears. “Things to see and people to do.” She winked at him, slinging her vintage leather satchel over her shoulder and tried to fight though the crowd, balancing her iPod, Blackberry and coffee in her hand.

Frankie swung past the ‘Heavy Metal’ Society to see her close friend Luke “What are you up to tonight, son?” She smiled a cocky almost laddish smile as she walked towards him and a friend Rick who Frankie had met a few times but barley received a glance from the young woman. “We are going to Drummonds tonig-“

“Three Trapped Tigers? Yeh I’m there, actually Rick here’s pulled out so I’ve got a spare ticket up for grabs.”

“Right sweet, I’ll take that off your hands. Come round after and we’ll have a smoke, yeh?”

“Aye, sounds good Frankie, meet you there.”

And with that she was off, making her way out of the Societies Fair. Constantly declining the offers of goodie bags, promos, and all the other shit that probably resulted in the wastage of 20% of the Amazon rainforest. Just about free from Frankie’s idea of hell the young woman made for the exit at the back of the tent again. As she declined the offer for a free gym pass, tempted to ask the curvy woman if she shouldn’t be using it instead, a Snafu promo back was forced into her already full hand, causing the warm coffee cup to escape the grasp of Frankie’s slender fingers. Instinctively she forced it away from herself and her electronics to avoid damage. This was unfortunate for one such girl. The coffee cup emptied right down the front of her red, admittedly tight, jumper.

Now for all Frankie was a bit of a, well dick head, she had enough social graces to apologise to the girl, albeit quickly before starting on the rugby type who had been idiotic enough cause the spillage. “If I want your fucking shit, I’ll fucking well ask for it!” She snarled, pushing the brown paper bag of fliers into her chest. Turning back to the girl, knowing the coffee had cooled down enough not to have burnt her. “Look if mummy or daddy won’t pick up the dry cleaning bill get this prick to do it!” Her grey eyes flashed back to the rugger, giving him yet another venomous stare. Patting the girl on the shoulder once before making her way out of the tent, seemingly oblivious to the attention she had attracted.

 

[Lady_Mornington]

Imogen Shepard

There were certain benefits of practically living on campus. If nothing else it meant that you could allow yourself the proverbial ‘five more minutes’ in bed, be able to eat breakfast and still be on time for your first lecture. The house on Sunnybank Road was not the fanciest of accommodation, but the location really merited the price. At least that was what Imogen’s father had said. He was right of course, the perks of living a stone’s throw away from Aberdeen University (with the added benefit of having an Indian restaurant practically around the corner and no more than ten minutes walk to the city centre) was really worth all the invested money. There was also the luxury of being able to snooze for another five minutes.

Yet even the nice things must come to an end, although no one said you had to be gracious about it. Imogen Shepard was, on the whole, quite the amiable person, although she would readily agree to not being at her best when having to get up when the foremost sound was the hammering of rain on the windows. She groaned as she gently disentangled herself from Geoff’ arms, immediately feeling the cold on her skin as she sat up. “You’d better wake up Geoff.” She intoned softly as she shook him into some state of consciousness. It had to be said about Geoff that he was even less of a morning person than Imogen was, and the only reply was a disgruntled moan More to the point, Imogen still considered Geoff to be quite out of her league. It was not that she wasn’t good looking, quite the opposite if one was to be honest. She was reasonably tall with a mane of lush brown hair that made quite the nice contrast to her porcelain skin and green eyes. No the discrepancies, such as Imogen perceived them, had more to do with personality. At 22 she still considered herself something of a fraud. Sure she was intelligent even when less academic pursuits were concerned. Despite this, she constantly felt as if she was just about ready to be exposed. She decided that it was all due to her upbringing. Graham and Hannah Shepard had both been with the Foreign Service, and as a consequence, Imogen and her sister Eleanor had spent most of their lives abroad in what could politely be described as ‘sheltered an environment’.

She yawned and stretched her arms above her head and then slowly got up, a smile and just a hint of colouring to her cheeks as she saw the array of clothes strewn across the floor, the last garments in the pile was her pink panties that she had worn the previous night. It was a bit overwhelming all things considered. Imogen Shepard had, despite her worldly demeanour, been quite the novice as far as sexual prowess was concerned as she arrived at Aberdeen three years ago. Her first fumbling forays into what was then unchartered territory had been mediocre at best, nothing worth mentioning in her biography apart from perhaps the kiss she had shared with a Swedish girl during an all too drunken after party at Hillhead. It had not been until she met Geoffrey Moreau that she began discovering all the interesting aspects of a relationship carried with it.

“You really need to get up Geoff” She intoned softly as she reached for her robe that hung behind the door. As mentioned, Geoffery was everything but a morning person and getting him out of bed was quite the arduous process indeed. “Mmm” came the muffled reply as he turned around and pulled the covers up as he went back to sleep. Having no intention of physically forcing him from the bed, Imogen decided that it was really up to him if he wanted to miss another lecture. She’d done what she could and the rest was out of her hands. She tiptoed across the hall to the bathroom and stepped inside the shower while the stream was still horribly cold. It wasn’t pleasant but it did the trick of waking her up.

It was twenty minutes later and Imogen had finally managed to coax Geoff out of bed while getting dressed for the day. The rain had stopped and uncharacteristically enough, the sun was shining. Aberdeen thus far had seemed to mostly about rain interspersed with sleet and snow but the day promised to be fine. She was wearing a grey skirt with a white blouse and a bright red cashmere pullover as she descended the stairs and got a greeting from her flatmate Natalie Zorah. Tali, as she was generally referred to, was from Spain and was currently writing her PhD thesis on something terribly complicated which involved evolutionary genetics or some such. While she never really offered much in terms of conversation or socialising, she paid her rent on time, didn’t eat Imogen’s food and kept the bathroom clean with the devotion that bordered on the manic.

“Good morning Tali” Imogen boiled the kettle and put two bags of Scottish Blend into the pot and poured water over it to let it seep. “Good morning Imogen” Tali was sipping her coffee, slender fingers wrapped around a cup that made her petite frame look even smaller. “Another day in the lab then?” Imogen smiled as the Spanish girl nodded “Yes I got some interesting things to do. I won’t be back until late so don’t sit up.” It was perhaps silly but it had become something of a catchphrase between the two of them. “On the contrary Tali Zorah, you are in my ward so I am obliged to do so.” Imogen winked and caused the Spanish girl to giggle. “Alright see you tonight” She put the cup in the dishwasher and collected her bag before heading out with a barely audible click as the door closed behind her.

Imogen would not describe herself as a creature of habit but even so she had to admit that there were certain routines that she never really deviated from. Breakfast without reading the Times really didn’t count as breakfast. It had been something that she and her father had shared as they lived abroad. The broadsheet might have been a different one, but the act of reading it as she had her tea was the same no matter where in the world she might be. Though today there would be no time to actually read the paper. Geoff insistence she’d stay in bed, as well as her own decision to accommodate his wish had eaten into the breakfast time, and thus she had to make do with merely skimming through the headlines as drank her tea and ate a daintily prepared whole meal sandwich.

“Morning darling!” Geoff finally dragged himself into the kitchen and pecked her cheek. He was dressed smartly, the attire consisting from top shelf brands but still arranged in a way that didn’t make it seem like he was showing off. Blue denims, a chequered shirt and white trainers made him look like virtually any British male. He wore his dark brown hair cropped short and his handsome face neatly shaved. “Good morning. Again.” Imogen replied with just a hint of reproach. “Really we ought to stop slouching around in the mornings.” She sighed as Geoff filled his cup with the strong black tea and almost immediately downed it. “It would be nice to have breakfast like normal people Geoff.” Imogen stood up and collected the dishes, dutifully putting her cup and the plate in the dishwasher. “You know that most people’s idea of breakfast is a cup of instant coffee and two cigarettes.” Geoff picked up his black jacket as Imogen collected her purse and laptop. “Yes but only because the majority adheres to it doesn’t mean that it’s right.” It was a losing battle, Imogen knew that, on the whole she was quite pleased that she at least had cured Geoff from the worst excesses of being a student. She might seem old-fashioned but the appeal in beginning one’s day with the left over curry from the previous night or, even worse, a can of IRN-BRU and two Mars bars didn’t sit well with her at all.

“What’s on your agenda then Im?” Geoff held the door for her as they stepped out on Sunnybank Road and patted her bottom as she locked the house. “Please don’t do that” She could feel her cheeks reddening but only getting a small laugh in reply. “You know I hate it when you do that in public.” He grinned but made a conciliatory gesture, which they both knew would not mean a definitive end to his antics. There was really nothing she could do about it. Geoff was not a mean person, on the whole he was quite the loving boyfriend but he sometimes tended to be very much the lad, with all the horrible connotations that the concept carried with it. “Middle East Security Studies at New King’s. Then hopefully lunch together before the Societies Fair” She trained her green eyes on him, evidently wanting a confirmation that they would meet up after her lecture. “That’s with Massani isn’t it?” Geoff peaked up as he mentioned the Reader in International Relations. “Yes it’s Zaeed Massani’s course.” Imogen confirmed this, realising that Geoff was more interested in the Israeli academic’s background than their possible lunch date. “He used to be with the Mossad didn’t he?” Geoff continued as they headed down High Street towards the University campus. “No he didn’t, it’s just a story blown out of proportion. He was in the IDF but everyone in Israel is.” Imogen sighed. It was not the first time they had had this particular discussion. “That’s what he would say isn’t it?” Geoff persisted. “I mean if I’d been with the MI6 I would never admit it. Wouldn’t be able to with the Official Secrets’ Act. Same thing goes for him.” There was really nothing to say “Yes you’re probably right Geoff.” There was no point in arguing about it. “So what about lunch then?” She reached for his hand, her slender fingers intertwining with his as they went past the Elphinston monument. “Chips and cheese at the Central Ref? I guess so.” Geoff nodded as he stopped by the lawn and kissed her “Try not to be shot during your lecture. It would be very sad indeed.” He smiled and then turned on his heel, heading past the Department of history on his way to Queen Mother Library.

It was just a few minutes to go as Imogen briskly walked inside New King’s and headed upstairs for the lecture. The room was bustling with conversation and almost every seat was taken. Massani’s course was quite the popular choice among the students, both due to his relaxed but informative style of lecturing, as well as the fact that his exams were usually quite easy to pass if you just paid attention to what was said in his lectures.

“Over here!” Imogen looked up to the third row from the back where Amanda Kenson was seated. She negotiated the narrow steps and without causing too much fuss, took her seat next to the energetic redhead. “Got you a coffee love.” Amanda handed her a Styrofoam cup. “Figured that since Geoff stayed the night there wouldn’t be time for proper breakfast.” She grinned as she watched Imogen blush. “Oh you’re too cute you know that.” Amanda gave another laugh and quite the suggestive wink to follow. She was really the blueprint for the posh Edinburgh girl, hailing from Morningside and a graduate from the prestigious Fettes College. Her parents were well off, old money on her mother’s side and new entrepreneurial ditto on her father’s. Even so she was quite delightful to be around, at least if one qualified to Amanda’s high standards. Imogen liked her well enough but even she had to concede that the Edinburgh girl could be a most dreadful snob all things considered. “Could we please stop making suggestive remarks regarding my private life?” Imogen tried for a haughty reply and quickly changed the topic “So you are going to sit with me at the Societies’ Fair today? Jacob and Miranda are covering the stand now but I think that the Politics & IR society could use our flair and charm after lunch.”

***

It was just past 12 as Imogen and Amanda made their way out of New King’s. The lecture had been an interesting event, with quite the heated debate raging. Amanda had been in her element, and the way she had argued her point of view had been a virtual the tour de force. Being naturally argumentative, at least as far as impersonal topics were concerned, Imogen had found herself in the same camp as her friend, though she had to admit that Amanda’s knowledge of the intricacies of Middle Eastern politics were perhaps less than what one could reasonably require. Then again, Amanda had never let such trifles stand in her way and she and Imogen had, by all accounts, won the argument such as it was.

“So what happens now Imogen?” Amanda fished out her gold cigarette case and lit one with elaborate flair while giving Liza Packton a withering stare. “They really are letting in just about everyone here.” She blew out a cone of smoke and then turned to Imogen who was busying herself by sending a text to Geoff. “Sorry ‘Manda I wasn’t listening.” It was a white lie obviously, she’d heard her friend comment all too often about the riff-raff that supposedly ruined the university. The requirement for being labelled as such being fluid but if Amanda was to be understood it generally meant being left wing in politics or flaunting too alternative an appearance. Liza Packton conformed to both and thusly ranked very low on Amanda’s list of favourite people. Imogen had decided that the stance was wholly unattractive. Yet the thing that irked her was that at heart she found herself agreeing with it. There were people who, bluntly put, just weren’t ‘our type of people’ and that fact didn’t sit well with her. “Perhaps you should lay off her? Be the greater woman ‘Manda?” Imogen suggested as her mobile beeped providing some manner or respite from the all too tedious discussion. The blue screen flickered as she tapped the message icon. “Cnt mke it 2day. Need 2 prepare 4 societies. Luv u”.

It was a small thing and by rights it ought not to have affected her as much as it did but Imogen nevertheless managed to look absolutely crest fallen as she read the text. “What’s wrong Im?” Amanda stubbed out her cigarette and offered Imogen a sympathetic glance. “It’s really nothing ‘Manda.” Imogen tried for a smile as she pocketed her mobile. “So are we grabbing some lunch?” She aimed for a nonchalant tone despite the fact that Geoff standing her up really irked her. “Sure but not the bleeding Central Ref. Pie at Auld Toon Café, your treat.”

***

Butchart Hall was cramped with students of two main varieties. There were the new ones, big-eyed as they tried to make sense of the plethora of societies, clubs and general associations that was an integral part of life at Aberdeen University. The Politics and IR Society couldn’t be described as one of the major hotspots, although Miranda Lawson and Jacob Taylor had been quite diligent in roping in prospective members among the Freshers milling around the big hall. “Finally!” Jacob Taylor exclaimed as Imogen and Amanda made their way through the throng of people. “One more minute here and I’d go mental.” He ran a hand over his short curly black hair, put down the bunch of pamphlets and stretched, causing a group of girls to giggle appreciatively at the sight. “Jacob could you please stop that!” Miranda Lawson sighed and shook her head at Jacob’s ‘fanclub’. “I swear that most of the ones we signed up were blonde first year students who were really more interested in our dusky friend here than the important and informative business of our society.” Miranda was the treasurer of the Politics and IR society, a good looking brunette from Sydney. She and Jacob had a kind of on and off relationship, making for quite the striking couple.

“Well luckily your President has arrived” Amanda winked and inclined her head towards Imogen. “We’ll handle this now.” As vice president Amanda had taken it on herself to manage the committee of the Politics and IR society, which she did with quite the admirable gusto. “Sure thing, we’re off to the Bobbin for a drink, coming over later?” Jacob asked as Miranda collected her things. It was then it happened. An over-zealous member of the Rugby club tried stuffing a leaflet into the hand of a blonde girl and got a snarling response in return as well as making her spill her coffee all over Imogen’s red cashmere sweater.

“What are you doing?” Admittedly not the best reply and as the girl proceeded to pat her arm making a reference to Mummy and Daddy picking up the bill for the dry cleaning and then making for quite the spectacular exit. Imogen shivered as the tepid liquid dried on her sweater, a dark brown spot spreading all over the front. “What a fucking tart!” Amanda exclaimed and Jacob and Miranda nodded in unison. “Some people” Amanda continued once more indicating the same statement she had voiced earlier. If she were to be honest, Imogen felt like crying. It was really just the crowning of a number of small disappointments and while she was angry with the blonde it wasn’t the real reason for her morose mood. “It’s alright ‘Manda, it’s an old sweater anyhow” It was a lie and the fact was that it was her favourite garment but she’d be damned if she’d let that show. “I’ll just run home and get changed. Miranda, Jacob will you stay around and keep Amanda company, I’ll be ten minutes tops.” A smile creasing her lips as she collected her things and made for the exit. She put the collar of her black Burberry coat up as she hurried out Butchart hall, only to come face to face with the blonde girl who was standing outside the building , nonchalantly smoking a cigarette and staring out over the playing fields.

“My day just keeps getting better and better” Imogen thought as she passed her hoping she wouldn’t have to confront her but as she thought she was out of harm’s way she heard the blonde calling out.

 

[Tanned_babe]

Giving herself a subconscious shake Frankie muttered “Aw Fuck it.” Under her breath, she’d just go to her lecture and have a bit of fun on the way. Flicking her cigarette in the general direction of the bin the leggy blonde jogged for a few paces and had just about caught up with the brunette who was also practically jogging. Most probably in the hope that no one saw the state of her this season Jack Willis sweater accessorised with a big brown coffee stain. “You don’t have to thank me or anything.” Frankie chinned as she caught up with the girl and walked a stride of her smirking to herself. “Well I mean I’m sure one of those strapping airheads would be all over a damsel in distress. I think I’ve just guaranteed you a bit of attention.” The tall blonde merely winked at Im before turning on her heel and striding towards New Kings. “Be safe.” She called out before disappearing round the corner.

As it turned out the lecture wasn’t a complete waste of time, from the social aspect anyway. She had managed to sign up to a tutorial with a few ‘friends’ she had met last year and also organised to go out tonight.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Frankie and Nick had been comparing washing up liquid for far too long in the Morrisons’ just off King’s Street. “I don’t really care, Nick.” Frankie sighed in frustration.
On the whole she got on incredibly well for Nick considering they had somewhat of a history. “It’s fucking washing up liquid. Just get the value shit and be done with it!” The blonde turned on her heel carrying a basket half full of goods ranging from Soya milk, a couple of greens and chocolate. She headed for the alcohol isle and mentally calculating how much she could spend. Sixteen pounds. Excellent.

By the time Nicky had appeared with yet more cleaning products, none of which were Morrisons’ own, Frankie had decided on a bottle of Gordon’s Gin, tonic, a pack of four cans of lager and a rather garish bottle containing an aqua blue liquid. “Is it any wonder we never worked?” Nicky sighed looking from her basket to Frankie’s before plonking a large bottle of Grouse into her own.
“That’s the spirit.” Frankie smiled.
“No Frankie, that’s whiskey.” The purple haired curvy girl said, nudging her friends shoulder. “C’mon lets go, I don’t want to be arrive late or sober.”
Leaving Drummond’s after two hours of instrumental generous six friends staggered out of the venue, leaving the sound of blaring indie music behind them. “Where now?” One of the boys asked, “And with all due respect ladies I’m no going anywhere where guys are going to hit on me.” Frankie snorted “But men will hit on you anywhere Luke. You’re sooooo handsome.” She laughed, wrapping her arms round his neck and kissing his cheek.
“Well how about Exodus? Not too many pretentious twats, off the Fresher’s beat, cheap and they’ll be the odd girl wanting to broaden her horizons.” She winked at Nicky before staggering up the street. “God, she’s sickeningly cocky!” Nicky sighed as they headed up Belmont Street towards the club which, like many in the city, had been a church in its previous life.
This evening Frankie had left the skinny jeans and tank top at home and dawned a black biker dress with thick straps sitting on her shoulders and a silver zip running from her chest down to her pale thighs. The dress didn’t really change the Tomboy look she went for especially with her footwear- a familiar pair of black and white converses.

The queue was massive, it seemed all those not wanting to party with the children who had just arrived in the city had decided to go to Exodus. “Fuck this.” Frankie shivered, blowing a cone of smoke laced with not only nicotine but the sweet smell of Marijuana and passing the joint to Luke. “Let’s have a swatch at who we know up there.” Staggering up to the front of the queue the blonde girl smiled broadly as she recognised a sheepish girl with a pixie hair cut holding a clip board.
“Cooper. And hurry up and tick my name off, Zoe, its bloody Baltic.” Frankie tried to joke as the girl, considerably shorter than herself, didn’t look up from the clip board.
“Back of the queue Frankie, like everyone else.”

“Oh c’mon. It’s fucking freezing. Anyway, it’s looking rather quiet in there we’ll liven the place up a bit. Bring some class to it, you know?” With that she took the clip board form the girl who had just looked at her for the first time.

“You never called.” She said awkwardly, but Frankie was barely listening- she was scribbling ‘F and Co.” Onto the guest list and taking a couple of wrist bands from the clip before the girl snatched the clip board off her. “Jesus, Frankie!”
“My name’s on there. You’ll just have to let me in now.” Frankie raised a thin blonde eyebrow before comforting the girl that she’d call her soon, she had been away and that she was incredibly sorry that things had been left to slip. “C’mon troops.” She beckoned ignorantly handling them a wrist band. “Compliments of Ms Cooper.” She laughed as followed them up the stairs.
Blur- Song 2 was blaring as they got up to the bar and accepted their comp drinks, and ordered not one but two shots each, much because of the persistent Frankie wanting to do so. Two vodka’s and two shots of tequila later the blonde was really pumped up. Having met quite a few people she had me the previous term, some of them from uni and other’s not. After having been on the dance floor for a while the four friends had somewhat dispersed, the two boys, Luke and Jo had obviously pulled leaving Frankie and Nick on the dance floor. “Shall we go out for a fag?” Nick shouted over the music, making the hand gesture and nodding towards the exit. “Aye, beer first.” The blonde shouted putting her arms round her friend and walking up to the bar before staggering outside in a fit of giggles over comment Nicki had just made to a girl at the bar. “Did you see her face?” Frankie shrieked with a menthol cigarette squeezed between her lips. “She was about to-“ And for the second time that day Frankie lost control of her beverage. She bumped into a girl walking towards them but this time managed to control the bottle of Bud which was fizzing up over the neck as she held it away from herself.

It wasn’t until that she had pushed her way past the brunette that she paid her some attention, looking over her shoulder, Frankie automatically recognised the girl. “Coffee!!!” She exclaimed, beaming at the girl who looked ready to slap the drunken youth. “Nicky get over here!! I helped this young woman out today, set her up with a lovely young man. And look at this.” Frankie gestured to the fact the furious looking girl was hand in hand with whom she thought was the same rugger she had seen earlier on today.
“They’ve got together. Isn’t that nice, Nicola?!” She winked at the purple haired girl before turning back to Im and wrapping an arm round her slender shoulder, ininvertedly pushing the boy off her. “Look about today. What’s say I make it up to you.” She nodded back inside. “C’mon Nicky, my treat.”
With that the two girls headed back inside the club and headed for the toilets without even looking back to see if the perplexed brunette was following them. As soon as the two were in the toilets the pair burst into a fit of giggles. “What are you like!?” Nicky shook her head and hopped onto the sink. The toilets were quite busy and Frankie wanted peace and quiet for what they were about to do. “I’m outrageous.” She smiled walking towards Nicky and in the middle of Exodus toilets kissed her friend hard on the lips, running her hands over her legs, up over her curvaceous sides and into the tangle of lilac locks. Pulling away Frankie smiled to see that the action had had the desired results- an empty bathroom. “Excellent.” Frankie sighed looking round about her as a bewildered Nicky gasped for breath. The blonde bent over the counter and scrapped some white powder into a long straight line. “Ladies first.” She smirked, handing a cocktail straw to Nicky just as ‘Coffee’ entered the bathroom.

By this time Frankie had sobered up slightly, and was now at the optimum level of intoxication to do coke. She was laying out another line ask she asked the girl her name, extending a hand. “I’m Frankie and this is Nicky.” Nick was in the process of mopping smeared makeup from her face as her eyes had watered heavily. “I doubt you’ve done this before. Watch me.” She ordered the girl as she breathed outwards before breathing in sharply, taking in the white powder. “Ahh fuck.” Frankie winced as she felt her entire head tingle. “Here it’s your turn Im. C’mon, to say sorry for the sweater.” Frankie hated being turned down, whither it was by a woman, from a club or even when offering out free narcotics