Seventy Thirty - College Days

This story is set a while ago, in Australia. There is no internet, no mobile phones, people wore watches to tell the time. Some things though, never change.

* * * *

I arrived at the hall of residence early in the afternoon, after lunch. It was just as well they'd served a snack on the plane from Sydney, to keep the hunger away. I was nervous, a little fretful. Everything was new and scary. I'd left home to live in another city for the first time in my life. Mum cried when we said goodbye, and I think Dad did, too. He looked away, and his hand on my shoulder shook.

The flight across took three hours, with an hour of that waiting on the tarmac before we took off. I got a glimpse of the lake just before the plane landed, circling once over the eastern reaches, then down onto the runway with a bump and a roar of the engines, and a short taxi to the terminal. Was this the capital city? The terminal was tiny, with both TAA and Ansett in the same building, one at each end. I didn't quite believe it, not knowing what to expect.

Canberra would be very different from where I grew up and went to school. I could see that, right from the very first minute.

Getting to the hall was easy, a twenty minute taxi ride along wide open boulevards, a mountain to my right, the lake to my left, long government buildings, also to my right. There was so much space!

"That's Black Mountain ahead of us," the taxi-driver said. "All the residential colleges are along the foot of it, at the back of the campus. And see, there, over the lake, that's Parliament House."

He pointed to a two storey white building, like a long, wide, wedding cake. "Where Mal Fraser presides." He didn't say anything more, but I sensed he didn't approve. I didn't know much about politics, but even from the distance, I could see the steps where Gough Whitlam had stood that day. "God save the Queen, because nothing will save the Governor General."

"What's that building on top of Black Mountain?" I asked, looking out the windscreen towards a tall concrete spire like a rocket, with a red and white metal tower reaching right up to the sky. Even in daylight, I could see a red light flashing on and off, up at the top.

"That's the Telecom Tower, still being built."

"It's incredible," I said. "I've never seen anything like that."

"Where are you from?" the cabby asked.

"Sydney," I replied. "With the bridge."

"Yeah, we've just got two bridges, and the dam up the end of the lake. Not quite the same, is it?"

"Not quite the same, no."

We made the rest of the trip in silence, as if the cab driver could sense my trepidation. When we got to the hall he got out of the cab, lifted my two suitcases from the boot, and placed them at the bottom of steps leading up to the front of the hall's central building.

"You'll be fine, love," he said. "Big adventure, uni."

My heart went out to him, for his reassurance. Then I figured he probably did the airport to college run many times that first weekend of the uni year, and I was one of many nervous girls he'd drive. I looked at the steps, at my cases, and wondered how I was going to haul them up. I'd need three trips, what with my shoulder bag and all.

"Come on Dave, let's help the lady with these cases."

Two guys had appeared from nowhere, behind me. They each took a suitcase and swiftly took them up the steps, before I had a chance to say anything. I followed them up, getting ready to thank them, but they were already on their way.

"See ya," one of them said, as he did a playful bow, swirling his hand over three times with a flourish. I laughed, how could I not? but they were gone. I had time to register a tall, slim boy with golden blond hair. Wearing tight jeans, leaving me standing with a silly smile on my face.

God, Leah, get a grip. They'll probably help all the girls with heavy bags. I pushed the door open and went up to the admissions counter. The lady was lovely, everyone's favourite mum, and after five efficient minutes she'd found my registration, some keys, several pages of information, and I was all checked in.

"There's the mail room," she said, nodding towards a narrow corridor leading off, just before the doors to the servery. "It'll be a lifeline, probably. It is for most residents. Your room is out that way, diagonally across the lawn." She gestured towards an exit door. "Ground floor. Bring the trolley back straight-away, won't you?"

As I piled my bags onto the trolley, she added, "You should go around the left side. It's a better path."

I thanked her, checked I had the room key, and pushed the trolley through the door, hoping it wouldn't have a wonky wheel. It didn't, so mercifully I made my way in a straight line.

Five metres from the first building, I found myself at the corner of a long, wide rectangular lawn, with two-storey red brick buildings all around. High vertical windows looked over the lawn, some open, most closed, with crisp white surrounds. These were the East, West, and South Wings, I could see that from my little map.

At the far end, I could see three guys lounging around a bench set on a raised grass platform outside the South Wing. My wing. God, just what I needed, to run a gauntlet, an inspection party. Walking a gauntlet, pushing a trolley, anyway. I prepared myself to be hassled, like the dick-wads used to do at school.

I thought one of them was the tall blond boy, another I guessed, his mate. The third I'd not seen before. I took a deep breath, and pushed the trolley down the path. With a sudden rush and a shout, two of the boys were there beside me; and one steered the trolley, the other carried my bag.

"What room are you in?" the blond boy asked, his eyes as blue as the sky above, his skin a gorgeous golden brown, a summer tan. I was so white and pale next to him, a big city little girl who never went out in the sun.

"Um, S1. On the ground floor. Over there, apparently." I pointed, in my innocence, to the far corner. Then I realised these guys probably weren't first years, but knew the hall already.

"Let's get you over there, then. I'm Alex, this is Jake, and over there, being very grown up, is Dave. He's not so bad, once you get to know his curious ways."

"I'm Leah," I replied, overwhelmed by their arrival, by their obvious joy to be alive. "The girl with the bags, from the taxi."

"Ah, a bag girl, eh? Good to meet you, Leah. Welcome to the hall. Sit with us for dinner, if you like."

He looked down at me and I looked up, and we both smiled. He must have been six foot, and I'm five three, so I felt tiny next to him. I didn't mind looking up, though, and he looked straight into my eyes, looking down. Maybe he glanced at my mouth; he might have, I wasn't sure.

"I will. Thank you. Where will I find you?"

"Six o'clock. I'll meet you out here somewhere. You know, around." He seemed to have it all sorted out, whereas I had no idea at all.

The boys delivered me to my door. "I'll take the trolley back," said Alex. I touched his arm with a silent thank you, because if I said anything, I'd cry. I wasn't used to kindness. I wasn't used to young men, either. I'd only ever known school boys. Stupid boys, mostly, not young men. Not blue eyed, blond, handsome young men. God, Leah, stop!

Their absence left silence. I opened the door and dragged my suitcases in. I stood in the centre of the room, and looked around at my new home. The door was adjacent to the left wall, with a desk, shelves, and a lamp. Opposite the door was a twin pane window, to slide up and slide down. The sill was about a foot deep, I'd be able to put a plant there perhaps, or small ornaments. Below the sill was a wide, off-white radiator. That's the central heating, for winter.

I'd read about Canberra winters, dry and cold, with something called a wind-chill factor, which I knew nothing about. I probably didn't have enough warm clothes, I'd need to buy a jumper for when it got cold. A knitted woollen jumper would be lovely, but I didn't know anyone who could knit. My mum didn't knit.

To the right of the window was a wash basin, two glasses, and two cupboards up above, one with a mirror. It was so utilitarian. I could smell paint, so at least it was fresh and clean. A single armchair sat in front of the window; I'd need to buy a cushion, or a throw over rug. A two door built-in wardrobe stood in the middle of the right-side wall. And finally, a single bed, against the corridor wall. There was a small shelf on the wall to the side of the bed-head, and another shelf, half way down the long wall. Lots of shelves for a lot of books - it was a university college, after all.

I sat on the bed and wondered what the hell I'd got myself into. I took a deep breath, and another one. That stopped the tears, but was I strong enough for this? I didn't know. I gripped my left hand in my right hand and held on tight, to stop my hands shaking.

"Sit with us for dinner." I heard Alex's voice in my head, and thought he had a slight English accent. Where are you from, golden haired, blue-eyed boy? Maybe I would be all right, these first few days, after all. A golden summer angel who carried a suitcase - a girl could do worse.

I looked at my watch, nearly three. I spent the next couple of hours unpacking, putting clothes away and my books on the shelves. I made the bed with the sheets provided. I wrote a short list of things to buy - I'd need to find shops. I was sure someone would go with me, surely someone would do that for a fresher?

I was thirsty, but only had water to drink, from the tap. I added "jug" to my list, and "cups". And "tea", as an afterthought. Jesus! "Milk". That's better, I thought, now I'm getting organised, thinking sensibly. I felt better about everything, not so scared.

And slowly, I became conscious of other voices, doors opening and closing, the window next door, sliding up. The other residents were arriving, all 250 of us. I couldn't imagine that number of people all living in the same place. How on earth would I fit in? I suddenly felt nervous again. Leah, stop it! You'll be fine. I'm my own worst enemy, sometimes.

I took three deep breaths, fiddled with the door key to make sure I had it; then stepped out into the corridor. Out there I saw a few people: a girl with two wheeled bags, dragging them into her room, her long red hair a gorgeous tangled mess. Two guys further down, talking, obviously checking out the red-head. Why not? I'd look at her twice, too. I walked past them and felt eyes on my back, or hoped for a look, anyway.

"Catholic school," I heard one say.

Wrong, I thought, government high school; so there, private school boy, you're wrong! I knew then that appearances mattered when they shouldn't, and secondly, we were all going to be checked out and branded. I pretended not to hear, and continued with my eyes straight ahead down to the other end of the corridor, and around the corner into East Wing. My ass looked pretty good in tight jeans, if the momentary silence was anything to go by.

I was in a much longer corridor, twice as long. I walked slowly down it, peeking into a few open doors, to see more rooms just like my own. Each floor was a mix of men and women, but the bathrooms and toilet blocks didn't mix sexes, which was a small relief. I went into the ladies, and found a row of toilet cubicles on one side, shower cubicles on the other, each with a privacy lock.

I went into a loo, pulled my jeans and knickers down and sat there wondering what the shower arrangements were. I always showered in the morning, so I'd find out then. I looked at my watch, nearly six. I wiped, did myself up, then went outside to wait for Alex. I hoped he'd be waiting for me.

He wasn't, but there was a large bunch of people forming into a line. Most were alone like me, but here and there I saw people in small groups, chatting, already making friends. I knew I was quiet, but I could see I wasn't the only one. Everyone here for the first time was little and lost and alone, away from their mum. Even the bravado boys would show their innocence eventually, not be able to hide it. I briefly wondered if I could be someone else, someone even I didn't know. Leah, don't be silly, I chided myself, you're Leah.

"Hey, Leah, there you are. Settling in okay?"

Alex was beside me, his hand touching my arm briefly, and once again his friendly eyes looked straight into mine. He wasn't afraid to look at me, not looking away like most boys did. I quickly looked around, and saw a number of girls making surreptitious glances towards us, seeing the little dark haired girl with the good looking youth in those revealingly tight faded jeans.

I felt myself blush as I registered where I was looking, when I looked down. I lifted my eyes slowly up from his crotch, up his torso, and back to his mouth. To his eyes. He'd seen my wandering gaze, must have. I stood infinitesimally taller, my back straighter, so those other girls could see the shape of my breasts. They're not big, my breasts, but I imagined Alex's hands on them; just so the other girls could sense it. Just so they'd know. I'm Leah.

"The hall," Alex said, "you'll find it breaks down into all sorts of groups. It's a mix of under-grads mostly, some post-grads, and half a dozen live-in academics - they're the deputy wardens. The warden has been here since the college opened, back in the sixties, so he's part of the tradition. Nice bloke, you'll see him at high table."

I was right, Alex was in second or third year, knowing this kind of thing. "What's the gender mix?" I asked. "Seems there are more younger girls here," I gestured around us, "than boys my age."

"Yeah, dead right. Last year's first year intake was something like sixty forty, maybe even seventy thirty, women versus men. The hall was deliberately trying to even up the numbers, by enrolling more women. I reckon they're doing the same this year, more of you women."

I liked the way he called us women. It made me feel older, no longer a school girl. A young woman. Yes, I did like that. Then I did some maths in my head, and looked around again. "But that means, if it's a seventy thirty split in us first years, there's two girls for each bloke. Two and a bit, actually."

"Something like that." Alex nodded. "Kinda nice for us... Oh, I get what you're saying." He looked at me with a bit of a grin. "It means us guys are the rare beasts."

I must have had a look on my face. "Shit," he said, "I never thought of it like that before. Kinda good for us men, but that sucks for you women. Unless you're gay. That's..."

"Different for me, then," I said. "I'll just have to work a bit harder. Fight off all those rich private school girls." I looked around, and could see a few princesses. God, was that girl with the long blonde hair blatant, or what? The way she was looking at Alex was... almost predatory.

He seemed oblivious, giving all his attention to me. I touched his arm. "You're second year, then?" I took a guess.

"Yes. But I know what it's like, coming here by yourself, leaving home. We're nearly all from somewhere else. I mean, if you come from Canberra, you'd still be living at home.

"I was lucky, my first year. I got here on the Friday afternoon, on the train, and met up with some third years who showed me around all Saturday. Which meant on the Sunday, when everyone else arrived, I knew something about the place already, so lots of people thought I was in second year, back then.

"Handy thing, that," he concluded.

"It was. Will you show me around, during O Week?"

"Sure, why not?"

The line began to move, and in a few minutes we were in the dining room for the first time, with a hot served meal and rows of long tables to choose from. Alex led me over to his gang, Jake, Dave and some others whose names I forgot, but who made me welcome.

I was hungry, and anti-social for five or ten minutes while I ate. Then I slowly surfaced and looked around the room, and became accustomed to the steady buzz of voices, knives and forks on plates, people laughing. People alive, all together, all around me. I looked at Alex, saw his smile, and joined in.

"I'm Leah," I said, to the young woman sitting opposite me. A fresh young woman, just like me.

That's how it all began.

* * * *

In the end, Alex didn't show me around campus, nor into town. I struck up a friendship with two girls that first night, sitting next to me at dinner, sitting opposite, and it seemed more appropriate, first years with first years, not trying to hang our hats on the older students' hooks.

Alex was still friendly though, and when we discovered we both did English and signed up for tutes on the same days, same times, we got into a regular pattern of walking back to the college together on Tuesdays and Thursdays, to make the first lunch sitting. That was my "him" time alone, just Alex and me, walking up the long avenue, running when it rained, finding the shady trees when it was hot.

We learned about each other, who we were, where we were from, and I saw his sadness when he briefly mentioned Clio one day, from his first year, first term. I remembered her name from O Week, where she was manning a stall involved with student politics. Politics was of no interest to me, so I'd only seen her with a passing glance.

But when her name came up in a conversation with Alex, I cast my mind back, and vaguely remembered an olive skinned girl with dark eyes, a slim figure in tight jeans, no bra. I did notice that, because very few girls went braless, but then, her breasts were smaller than mine, so she could get away with it. She had a dark sexiness to her, which I don't have. I could see why Alex had fallen for her. Drugs were involved in their relationship somehow, but I wasn't really sure about that.

I didn't have much experience with love and relationships. I was still carting my virginity around, not quite sure what to do with it, and I'd never touched drugs. So I couldn't say anything much, but had a quick sense that my arm through his and my head on his shoulder might somehow acknowledge something. It must have, because we walked in silence for several minutes, then he whispered, "Thanks," and changed the subject completely.

So I made it into first term, settling into a steady cycle of days, my mind awakened with real thought, real inspiration, the sheer thrill of learning.

* * * *

Then I discovered masturbation on Tuesday afternoons, and again on Thursdays, and it became a new religion, better than poetry, better than any social occasion. I fell in love with myself, my own body. Another Leah, who I didn't know well at first, but got to know very much better.

The first time was a hot day in April. It wasn't T.S.Eliot's cruelest month, but it was a Canberra hot month, with high blue skies and the direct heat of an early autumn sun, out of season. I'd sweated on the walk up the avenue with Alex, and it wasn't a lady's blush. I was hot and sticky, and it was not only hot, it was humid. As soon as I got back to my room I decided I'd go to the second lunch sitting, and have a shower first.

I stripped off my clothes and could smell myself, a hot, tangy, faintly animal smell. Thinking of nothing more than a long shower, I grabbed a soap, and wrapped myself in a towel. That's what most of us girls did, wrapped the towel around our bodies with a fold of the end tucked in against a boob, and a hand down low to prevent a sudden flash. The guys knotted their towels around their waists; their bare chests were kinda nice.

For us shorter girls it was easier, the towels wide enough to cover our bums, but with taller girls, like Red Arabella down the hall... if I was lucky there'd be a quick glimpse of a shadow, and I'd never be sure what I'd seen, or if I'd seen anything at all.

Arabella was shameless, she didn't seem to care. She shut Mark the private school guy right down with a withering look one day, saying, "Do you want me to show you everything? I thought you were more into boys." He never said anything to her again, and kept well away from her after that. I had a sneaking suspicion she was right.