Definitely, Maybe, Sometimes. | ✔️ COMPLETED

Chapter Six

"What even is Freshers Fair?" Lynn is demanding.

A group of us are trudging through campus. It wasn't organised, we just sort of banded together.

"Wasn't Felicity Jones in the drama society at Oxford?" Kerry asks.

"Oh." Lynn says. "It's where we sign up for activities?"

"Did you not do any research into Uni?" Kerry chides, rooting through her bag.

The same time Jordan says, "It's a good way to make friends."

"There are over four hundred societies," Lynn reads from a pamphlet that Kerry handed her. "Four hundred? Isn't that a bit of over kill?" She continues reading. Then, in a distinct tone of disgust, she says, "I bet there's a Star Trek society. Or Harry Potter. There's always something to do with Harry Potter."

However many societies there are, I don't think any of us are prepared for what greets us as we enter the exam halls. Primark sales are heavenly compared to this.

Chaos is the only word for it.

Masses of stalls make a maze around the room, all with posters advertising absolutely anything you can think of. People grinning at us, shoving leaflets in our face, waving and tugging us towards their table.

"Ooh," Lynn breaths. "Salsa dancing?"

She doesn't look back as she leaves. The rest of the group split off and everyone seems to have quickly found things they're interested in. I stand in the middle of the room, overwhelmed and bewildered. There's so much to choose from.

"Can you play an instrument?" Jordan asks me.

"What?"

He nods his head to the back of the room, "They have a brass band."

"No." I say. "I can't play a single instrument. How the hell am I meant to pick something?"

"It's easy." He says. "What do you like?"

"Reading. Writing. Generally avoiding other people."

He laughs. "What about Doctor Who?"

I'm perplexed. "What?"

He nods again, this time to the left. "They have a Doctor Who society."

"But I don't know anything about Doctor Who!"

He puts his hands on my shoulders and gently massages them. I will my entire body to ignore it, but my knees go weak when he smiles. "Don't worry, we'll find you something."

I look at him, head cocked. "What society are you joining?"

"Media." He says, without missing a beat. "I'm going to be working on the Cherwell Newspaper."

"To write?" I ask, dumbly.

Jordan laughs, "I bloody hope so. That's all I've ever wanted to do. Journalism, author, I don't really care. I'd just love to write."

I'm surprised by this admission, but it's also highlighted how little I know about him. I frown. "What degree are you doing?"

"English Language and Lit. You?"