A University of Love and Pixies

Moving Day

"Neither do you," her mum replied, softly.

"You haven't seen my attempt at flirting."

Her mum laughed at that. "It can't have been any worse than my first kiss. I was twelve and was so nervous I accidentally dropped part of the glamour as we kissed. I pulled away, all tingly and happy, and he looked like something had just chewed up his lips." She ran her tongue over her equally sharp teeth. "Wonder whatever happened to him."

Niamh rubbed her brows. "Too much information, Mum."

Laughing, her mum made to leave the room, adding, "You know I met your father at uni, you never know when love will strike you."

Once again alone, Niamh shook her head bitterly. "Yeah, right."

Niamh slowed her breathing as the car pulled into her designated university accommodation. Beyond the security barriers, a series of buildings lined the road, floods of young men and women clamouring in and out of cars with boxes and suitcases. As they drove through, Niamh spied a house with packed with washing machines and another with bar and pool table. Trees and natural pathways cut between the houses, the whole scene looking surprisingly artistic. Homely.

"Turn left here," Niamh's father directed to his wife in the driver's seat. Normally his plump body was an alarming shade of red completed with trimmed argent hair, but the woven glamour depicted him as a light skinned figure that Niamh privately thought looked more like her grandfather than father. Her mother had opted for a similar appearance, though her golden hair remained.

The car pulled in at a tiny car park just on the edge of the accommodation site. A rundown, three storey building overlooked them, and Niamh double-checked the address on her phone. This was definitely her new home. There had been the option of attending on-site, catered accommodation or self-catered flats near campus grounds. Realising that the catering staff were unlikely to serve raw meat, Niamh had opted to cook for herself.

"Looks marvellous," her father declared as he got out the car, dramatically flinging the door shut. "Much more cosy than the flat I lived in."

"We've not seen inside yet, darling," his wife chided, opening up the boot to retrieve a box brimming with Niamh's favourite books. "Give us a hand, Niamh."

Staying quiet, Niamh obliged her, grabbing her suitcase, and wheeling it towards the door. Using the keycard she had been issued, Niamh let herself in. The small foyer featured lockers to her left for any mail and three doors, two of which were entrances to the ground floor flats and the third to a staircase that led to the others. After a quick examination of the floor layout poster on the wall, Niamh was thankful that her flat was on the ground.

Turning to the door marked "37" on her right, Niamh opened up flat. It opened into a small corridor, with three rooms on the right, one at the end, and two other doors on the left. She strode towards the first, which led into a couple small bathrooms, and then the second, the kitchen. Finally, Niamh turned towards the four adjacent rooms, labelled "1" to "4" accordingly.

It was to "3" that she moved towards, opening the door to reveal a small bedroom. The bed itself seemed to take up most of the room, lying against the left-hand wall while a wooden desk sat opposite. A wardrobe stood at the bed's foot, leaving very little room between the furniture.

"Ah! Nearly identical to my own uni room," her father remarked as he entered with her belongings. "Nice and small, what more could anyone want?" He turned to her. "What do you think?"

"Its nice," Niamh muttered, dropping her suitcase on the bed, already dreading the unpacking. The bright side was that it looked like, so far, none of her flatmates had arrived yet.