Short: Opportunity’s A Knockin’

[This is the nineteenth short in the Order of Polly. To start from the beginning, you can click this! If you want to read more about the series, you can do here!]

“I can’t believe it’s called yup.” Polly leaned into Nola’s ear.
“Sorry, what?” Nola’s attention was elsewhere placed in the hall.
“Your University Press. Y.U.P. Yup. They called it yup. It’s even the name of the thing. Look at the banner!” Polly spun Nola around and pointed at the table with all of the papers on, the stalwarts of the society smiling back.

The hall-mates had made it long enough into freshers’ week to last until the society fair. Polly was excited at the sight of the crowds gathering around the focal points, reminding her of the bustle from home. In contrast, Nola was overwhelmed and Emmie didn’t particularly care, she was just window-shopping for boys. Actually, there was one she definitely knew and managed to dart behind Nola before eye-contact happened.
“When?” Nola assumed a lecturing-pose, as best she could in the packed hall.
“Sunday.” Emmie responded immediately.
“Ah, Silent Sunday.” Polly smirked at Nola, prompting a grin from her.
“What?” Emmie looked at both of them as the crowd went on by.
“We’ve been naming all the guys you’ve been bringing back at night.” Polly stated, matter-of-factly.
“And Sunday, well, for once, there wasn’t much noise from your room. Silent Sunday.” Nola managing to get in her lecture.
“I guess now we know why you didn’t want to see him!” Polly now shared Nola’s grin. Emmie offered a sarcastic grin in return, before the three of them resumed making their way through the hall.

After a few more minutes of wandering around, the trio decided to split up and explore on their own, to join up with the guys later and compare their findings. Emmie was drawn to a lot of the sporting events, albeit maybe not for the right reasons, whilst Nola was just having a general browse and signing herself up for a variety of societies. Polly, meanwhile, was exploring in the same manner as Nola, but was going in the opposite direction. She pushed through the crowd and stopped at the table for the art society, where someone else was already enquiring.
“Well we meet up every Thursday evening for an hour and a half and sort of free-style it.”
“Free-style it? What does that actually mean?” The girl already at the stand seemed a bit snarky at the comment.
“Uhm, well we don’t generally have any themes, I mean sometimes we do, but not all the time. Anyhow, most people just come and do what they want to do. You bring your own supplies, we provide the space and you can talk and art at the same time!” The guy behind the stall seemed to have a fair amount of enthusiasm, but it didn’t really seem to be cutting it with this girl.
“Okayyyy, well, how many people do pencil drawings?” She pushed on.
“We usually get a couple or so every year, but more focus seems to be towards the paints.”
“Uhh. Okay, well, thanks.” The girl looked down again and fiddled with some of the flyers.
“What kind of skill level do you have?” Polly chirped in. “Because, and I’m being ultra serious here, I’m very shit at art in general, but I do like it.” This caught the girl’s attention.
“Ha. Well. Generally the people here are the ones who maybe did really well at A level, but didn’t have art as their course subject. So, I’d say it’s pretty high. It’s not like there are competitions or anything though.”
“Do you have any support for people who’re just interested then but, maybe aren’t that good?” The girl, still looking down at the table, pushed further without realising she cut in before Polly.
“I errm, maybe? It depends on other people in the society really. If they want to help someone.” The guy behind the stall felt this sale slipping away from him, pretty quickly. Polly and the random girl, simultaneously sighed and let out a small “Oh”. Polly thanked the guy and decidedly fought her way back into the crowd. The other girl stood there for a few seconds later before thanking the guy as well and putting the flyer she had picked up back on the table and walking away, without putting her name down.

“Sign up for much then?” Nola gestured towards Polly as the trio sat with some drinks in one of the bars on campus.
“A few things, yup.” Polly took a sip.
“What, you actually signed up for yup?” Nola shot Polly a death glare.
“Oh, wait, no, not that yup. That was just a general yup.” Polly shook her head with vigour.
“Ah.” A sip. “Good.” Another sip. “How about you Emmie?” The two of them looked towards their hall-mate.
“Pole dancing.” The other two stifled their giggles. “Shut up.” It wasn’t working. “And I put my name down for a load of other things, I dunno.” She shrugged and took a large gulp.
“Well I know I’ll definitely be joining dance, but there’s a few others that I might be interested in. Maybe the rock society.” The other two sat stunned. Nola noticed. “What? I can like rock music! What do you think I do, sit solitary in my room listening to Beethoven’s Fifth all day long?” She looked around for any sort of acknowledgement. There was none. “You guys are rubbish.”
“I’ll drink to that!” Emmie raised her glass and the other two obliged.
“And what are you gals drinking to?” Danny walked in with the boys from the hall as they sat down with their drinks and joined in.

As Polly was at the bar, waiting to get another drink, another girl saddled up to her. Through sheer coincidence, it just happened to be the same girl that was enquiring at the art stall and from this they managed to strike up a conversation. Turns out, they had a fair bit in common and just before they went back to their separate groups…
“Well I’m Polly. Nice to meet you.” She put out her hand.
“Nice to meet you too. I’m Sophie.” And she shook it, before they exchanged numbers, pleasantries and returned to their tables.

[To the next entry: Bright Light and Quick]


About thejgman

I am a person and do persony things! Favourite things include Mars bars, video games and, surprisingly, writing. I'm a graduate in Cultural Studies, with a focus towards all things digital and technological.
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