Eleanor’s door is always closed. When the STYCs came to round everyone up for the first night’s meet ’n’ greet she complained of a cold, and retreated back into her room. No-one’s been inside, but there are rumours of Dido posters. It’s always suspiciously quiet, making it impossible to tell whether she’s in or out. Eleanor does not share milk with the rest of the kitchen, but draws on her own (skimmed) bottle after every use, to ensure that no-one’s sneaking a dash. She eats only ready meals, hereby minimising time spent in the kitchen, and takes the food back to her room. When asked which subject she takes, she curtly answered ‘Philosophy’, but no-one’s seen her at a lecture. It’s anyone’s guess who she’ll live with next year.
“WHATTT????!!!! There’s only one kitchen between TWELVE of us?! What if we all cook at the same time, there aren’t going to be enough HOBS!!!!” Chloe’s never lived away from home before. The first panic attack occurred when she discovered that her en-suite accommodation included a shower as opposed to a bath, and the prospect of a whole term without being able to submerge herself in bubbles is more than she can bear to contemplate. She isn’t loving the single bed either, not nearly enough room for both her and her sense of entitlement. Her food takes up a good two thirds of the fridge intended for six. It’s all from M&S, but only because York doesn’t have a blahdy Harvey Nics.
Pity Freya’s neighbour. Every night of fresher’s fortnight at around 4am, without fail, the steady thump of a headboard accompanied by Freya’s shrill cries and the enthusiastic gruntings of this night’s amour, culminating in an ecstatic gasp from Freya, and varying accompaniments depending on the partner in question. Freya tends to stick to terms of endearment such as ‘baby’- probably best, it would be embarrassing to get mixed up with the last night’s dalliance. Her conquests rarely stay the night, but after the requisite ten minutes or so’s pause, make their hasty exit. Freya needs her eight hours, got to be fresh for tomorrow night. Apparently she’s got a boyfriend, one can only hope he goes to a different university.
Gerald has standards. Leaving dishes unwashed for longer than five minutes is simply unacceptable – bacteria multiply, and besides it just looks sloppy. Gerald’s a fan of notes, and scatters them liberally, outlining his thoughts on the living situation as it stands. He thinks there should be a milk rota and have everyone share, it’s a far more efficient use of fridge space. It annoys Gerald when he’s woken by revellers at 3am and thinks that silence should be imposed after midnight. The kitchen light keeps being left on, so Gerald has helpfully tacked a sign next to the door to remind the less conscientious members of the flat. He wants to call a meeting. Everyone respects a carer.
There’s a sign on David’s door: “Please come in, I’ve got tea and biscuits!!!’ The ‘please’ only adds a further note of desperation to this already somewhat forward statement, and the multiple exclamation marks suggest a level of excitement slightly excessive for this rather commonplace suggestion. One can only imagine his reaction to the offer of booze. Actually one doesn’t need to, since David religiously attended every single fresher’s event on offer, multitasking if necessary by moving between the colleges throughout the night, in order to maximise the campus’s exposure to his boundless enthusiasm. He’s signed up for the football team, rugby team, dancesoc, pantsoc, comedysoc, medieval re-enactment soc, and tea cosy soc. Football practise overlaps with salsa, but if anyone can be in two places at one, it’s David.
The Jock can down three pints on one go. No four, possibly even five. The number gets bigger with every boast. On the morning following his first Tru outing he was found in the corridor stark naked, his goose-pimpled flesh covered in expletives enscribed in permanent marker. His clothes were never found. Jake is loving the lack of parental supervision university affords, and his room is home to a TV, Nintendo Wii, and disregarding college rules, a mini-fridge containing only beer. Jake can’t wait for the rugby/football/hockey season to start and is trying out for all the teams. If he is successful for any, that team will become his brotherhood, and the other two declared the dumping grounds for the failed versions thereof. Jake hasn’t had any luck with the ladies so far, but it can only be a matter of time. He’s heard Freya’s easy.