Definitely, Maybe, Sometimes. | ✔️ COMPLETED

Chapter Four

"Don't go bungee-jumping." Jordan is saying.

Kerry is in the middle of us, her arms over our shoulders as we carry her back to halls. She's so drunk she can barely hold her head up. We're half carrying, half dragging her.

"The chord would snap." He says, throwing me a glance over Kerry's head. "Or sky diving - the parachute would fail. Or skiing - you'd slide right off a mountain. Don't go near any kind of inactive volcano - it would erupt because you're there. You should probably think about just not leaving the house. At all. Ever."

"Oh my God." Kerry moans. "I've been poisoned."

"This is what Freshers is about." Jordan says to her. "Destroying your liver and making friends."

"Aw," she coos. "You think I made friends?"

"Only friends would drag you back to your dorm." He pauses and his breath is laboured from the weight of her. "Seriously, do you know how use your legs?"

"I am walking." She slurs, even though she absolutely is not putting one foot in front of the other, which is the essence of walking. "We can stop if you like, I can lie down on the floor."

"No." I hiss. Every step I take, I get whiffs of her sick which is still all down me. "We need to get back and I need a shower."

"How much longer?" She groans.

"Not long." Jordan says.

But clearly he is a liar and cannot be trusted because it feels like we have been walking for decades by the time we get back to our hall.

I'm extremely glad she lives in the same one as us because when we reach the door, she's all but intelligible and barely able to get her limbs to work.

If I thought the walk was long I am not prepared for the mammoth task of getting her up the stairs. Between Jordan and I, we manoeuvre her like she's an inanimate object.

It's like that scene from 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S' where Ross, Chandler and Rachel are trying to get the sofa up the stairs. Except, instead of someone screaming 'PIVOT', the stairwell is filled with our grunts and groans.

In the corridor outside her room she spends a painful amount of time fumbling for the key in her bag. Until finally, she opens her door. Then she mutters what I assume is a thanks and collapses, still clothed, onto her bed.

Her room has the same blue carpet and curtains as mine but it's twice the size. Her wardrobe is huge, her desk the length of the room. Her sink has a massive mirror above it, even her bed seems bigger. I feel like I've been snubbed by Oxford.

My room, at best, is the size of a shoebox. With just mum and I in it earlier it felt crowded. My wardrobe is definitely a lot smaller and my mum called my desk an "arm rest at best."

A horrible, wailing, "Nnaark!" sound comes from Kerry.

I look to Jordan, whispering, "Is that normal? Is that alright?"

"Yeah." He says, amused. "She's snoring."

She does it again and he starts laughing. I put my hands on my hips, "Surely that's deserving of a pig reference?"

He tuts, "Pigs don't sound like that when they sleep."

"Nnaark!"

"No?" I hiss. "What sound is that, then?"

"That is a beast trying to escape from the depths of hell through our new friend."

"Jordan!"

"What?" He asks. "Listen to it. Sounds like some sort of dying animal."