Freshers

‘Don’t worry, we can just check on each other every night. You know, just in case the other person is dead.’
‘Yay,’ I said. ‘Death pact.’

I couldn’t think of a way to describe the last seven years of nothingness accurately.

‘Are you OK? Are you going to be sick?’ She sounded mildly concerned, but mostly grossed out. ‘I’m not really a hair-holding person.’