Honestly the college canteen is rarely a place of joy for me - it’s simply a place to eat and then leave as quickly as possible. I’ve never cared for the squawking of the crowds and their cliques - the clever kids all puffing up their self-important bubbles, the girls making no attempt to mask their attraction to the sporty guys, the nerds being shunned into a corner because they aren’t cool enough to take centre stage - it’s all just so fucking boring. And let’s talk for a moment about the horrific decor of the place: bright orange walls coupled with a green ceiling and pink floor tiles? It’s like something from the set of a preschool TV show.
As the grumpy red-faced dinner lady serves me, I let my eyes wander over the green plastic chairs and notice a secluded spot in the back corner where no one else is - everyone is too busy trying to be the centre of attention near the middle of the room and that suits me just fine. I settle on a portion of chips and cheese for lunch and shuffle over to the corner, slumping in the seat with a bored sigh.
College life is so dull outside of the classroom.
Lazily I poke at my food with the little white plastic fork and my mind begins to wander to the day’s events. I’d nailed that assessment as the class had expected. Feels pretty good. Today is just another nail in my social coffin but fuck it - I don’t care for the opinions or acceptance of the others. Seems like every time I get a bit of praise from Adriano, I get shunned further and further into the corner in the back of classroom. Maybe it’s just my imagination.
To be honest, when I’d started out at college, I’d been that shy awkward kid who’d craved the attention but the years have nurtured my Capricorn’s competitive streak. Now I’m perfectly comfortable knowing I’ve earned this solitary place at the dinner table. Don’t think for one minute that I’m lonely though - I’m not. One glance over the canteen at the various groups of misfits is enough to remind me to be thankful that everyone leaves me alone.
Some of my classmates are huddled around a small table on the far right, all laughing and exchanging pleasantries and I wonder if they even realise that the minute we all leave college in June we’ll be in direct competition with each other.
The fork prods a few more chips and lifts the layer of rubbery orange cheese off the top chips. I stare at it for a few moments, mesmerised by just how shiny it is under the light - it practically shimmers and glistens like wet cellophane but for all its blatantly artificial it sure does look delicious. A few mouthfuls later and my disgust is replaced with pure bliss. A hand reaches into my jeans pocket and closes around my phone - I sit it on the table and begin to do some research on the essay. Astrophotography, eh?
The sudden clatter of a plastic chair being pulled out and then the screech of the legs as they claw across the floor rips my attention away though. Someone’s sitting with me? Why? There’s a million other empty chairs. Go sit your arse in one of them and leave me alone…
My brow furrows in annoyance as I raise my gaze to see…Ryan?
“Hey dude!” the bouncy American grins. “You always look so scary or are you just practising that face for Halloween?”
I blink for a few moments, staring at him blankly. “Excuse me?”
Ryan’s grin progresses to a laugh as he sits his own little polystyrene container down on the table. “You look so grumpy, Gavin,” he tells me as he pops his container open revealing a baked potato and cheese - that same processed plastic that I was eating. We’d probably be healthier just eating the containers, to be honest. “I just thought I’d jump over and make sure you were okay.”
In confusion, I pout - do I really look that irritated? “I’m fine, honest.”
“You sure I didn’t damage your camera earlier? It must be a cracked screen to warrant a face like that!”
My eyes lower to my chips as I shrug my shoulders. “Did you just come over here to annoy me?”
“No,” he replies, his voice muffled as he begins to wolf into his food, “I’m glad I saw you again. See, I don’t have any friends here yet and well, my big brother used to be a model so I figured the photography thing could break the ice, no?”
“The ice is already broken.”
“Yeah but it’s not really though, is it? We’re just acquaintances. I wanna make a friend.”
Why me though? Of all the people in this college, all the hardcore kids or the pseudo Warhols who’re more on his level, he chooses me? There’s nothing cool about me…
I begin to chew on that wonderful plastic cheese again. “Well you don’t make friends by making fun of them.” Fuck, that sounded harsher than I’d intended.
Ryan’s smile fades as he pauses, fork in midair with a little bit of cheese dangling off like it’s about to leap to its death. I can’t take my eyes off the cheese, wondering when it’s finally gonna fall. The stringy bits that have already melted sway rhythmically and the more solid lumps cling to his fork for dear life.
“I wasn’t making fun of you.” Oh boy, - seems like I’ve annoyed him. He sounds pretty pissed now. Nice one, Gavin, you fucking idiot. “I’m an artist, not a comedian. I just observe things.”
“And I look grumpy?”
“Well yeah.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, that grin reappears suddenly and he bursts into laughter again. He’s winding me up. Of course he is. And I’m like a fucking salmon on the end of the line ready to be reeled in… My eyes do a full three-sixty as I shake my head - I don’t know what to make of this situation. I decide to humour the American further - surely a little conversation won’t be that bad? It doesn’t look like he’s gonna leave anyway.
“So your brother was a model, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” Ryan explains excitedly through forkfuls, “he was the face of T.Sang of London for a year.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Haute-couture label from New York. Don’t know why he calls himself T.Sang of London,” he tells me. “The designer wasn’t even English. I guess it sounds more fancy to him but I reckon the guy only spent like two months there on work so that must make me R.Speirs of Paris since I was there for a few weeks studying.”
My gaze returns to the dark haired American - he’s so animated when he speaks, hands swooping dramatically through the air, eyes wide with excitement, that glorious cheese flying all over the place. It’s kinda charming in a ridiculous way. I guess he’s just happy to have someone to talk to. Now I feel like a Grade A cunt for initially wishing he’d go sit somewhere else.
“What about you? You ever been on vacation anywhere?”
“Nowhere fancy,” I explain, “Had a caravan down in Sandylands with my family for a week but that was it.”
“Your surname was…?”
“Ashmore.”
“G.Ashmore of Sandylands sound good?”
The title catches me off guard - the forkful of chips I just shovelled into my mouth almost come straight back out as I erupt into laughter. Dammit, he’s making my angst-ridden photographer facade crack. Angst-ridden photographer, ha - who am I kidding?
“G.Ashmore of Sandylands? You for real?”
“Wow! He can smile!” Ryan’s eyes widen as his jaw gapes in fake surprise. “You should smile more often.” Dad used to tell me that practically every day before I moved out… Ryan tilts his head like a puppy as he smiles again. “Hey, Sandylands sounds nice. Where is it?”
“About fifteen miles down the road,” I chuckle. He pouts for a second then begins munching on his baked potato again and that awkward, weird lunch is how our friendship begins to blossom. We sit for ages talking absolute shite to each other but even with all his weirdness, he makes me smile which is, as you’ve probably guessed, a rarity. I guess I just appreciate that someone’s genuinely making an effort to get to know me.
We arrange to meet after college - I lazily mention how I wouldn’t mind getting another piercing and somehow that escalates to me agreeing to give him a tour of the town centre and showing him where the piercing parlour is as he fancies getting his septum done sometime soon.
Class gets out at 4pm as usual. Adriano’s surprised that I’m not staying behind to get my usual extra hour of study in before he locks up and heads home. I explain I’ve made a new friend - Adriano knows exactly who Ryan is though. He tells me that Ryan is one of the most talented students the college has ever seen. My left eye twitches involuntarily - a new rival? Then with a silent sigh of relief, I remember that he’s an artist, not another Instagram snapshot photographer. Even more relief when Adriano tells me that he’d love to see the two of us collaborate - he reckons that if we put our heads together, with our talents, we’d be going places.
Ryan’s waiting for me, sheltered from the bright winter sun by the dying boughs of the skinny trees arching over the college gates. A lazy wave greets me and we head off, merging with the river of students that pour out of the building on their way to the town centre. I only plan to show him around the shops - anything like the local parks or whatever can wait for another day when we’ve got more time.
The skies are already a dull denim and our breath dances as we walk together, hands nipping as the frosty fingers of October grab at us. I curse myself for not grabbing a jacket - the strange warmth of the morning sun has completely vanished now and I find myself with just a sweatshirt for warmth. Oh well.
The last shards of daylight begin to fade as we wander the town centre. The warm glow of the shop lights bathe us in their tempting embrace but neither of us have any money, save for my piercing cash, so it’s basically just a quick point and look tour. As we walk, we begin chatting about college - Ryan’s got a big sustainability project coming up and has heard his lecturers mention how the college wants students from different sectors to collaborate. I explain that Adriano hasn’t mentioned anything to us but I wonder if that was why he’d recommended Ryan and I work together in the future?
Ryan waits outside as I get my lip clamped and needled. A fresh new wound beside my existing lip piercing - a spiderbite, they call it. The piercer gives me the whole script about no alcohol, blah, blah and I nod and smile but inside, I’m thinking to myself no alcohol? Sure…
Ryan and I part ways at the bus station - he explains that he lives with his older brother in a newly built house over in Altonhill, a neighbourhood at the top end of town. I tell him that my flat’s in Dean Street, literally a five minute walk from the town centre. With that, we agree to see each other again at college. We quickly exchange Facebook information and say our goodbyes.
Friendship feels weird. I let all of my school friends go when I’d arrived at college. No idea why. The whole arranging days out and communication thing just seemed kinda tedious. I guess socialising has taken a backseat to my career and ambitions. Now my only friend is Adriano. We’ve formed a solid foundation since I’d started hanging back after class for extra work - in that spare hour, we chat mindlessly, exchanging ideas and jokes. Sad, isn’t it?
With Ryan safely on the bus back to Altonhill, I turn on my heel and begin the quick walk back to my flat. Warmth awaits me.
