Like my other stories, this one has a long build-up; the longest so far, I believe. I like to allow plenty of time to get to know these great ladies. In fact, if you've read my other stories, you may see some familiar faces. I know some of you were wondering about the storyline in this one. Great to hear that, as I was already writing it! Let me know your thoughts -- it's what keeps me going with this much pleasure! Happy reading!
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Jordan opened the door to her student room. She stepped inside so Sam could squeeze past her.
"Ta-da! My new digs! What do you think?"
Sam took in the tiny room: the single bed on the one side; the desk with a few shelfs and a small wardrobe on the other. She peered into the en-suite bathroom with its bare necessities: a shower cubicle, toilet and sink.
In the week she'd been here, Jordan thought she'd done a decent job of making the generic space her own. She'd put all her books on the shelfs; arranged her computer set-up; hung her cherished fight shot poster of boxing champion Nicola Adams; and displayed a collage of pictures of her family and friends. This included the series of photo booth snaps that she and Sam took together religiously every year. The only thing she hadn't found a space for was her punching bag.
"It's great. It's got all you need. And it's clean," her friend said encouragingly, while her face expressed the apprehension she undoubtedly felt about living in a student room at the age of 27; the age she and Sam shared.
"Yeah, it's one of the newer accommodation blocks, so at least it's still in good condition," Jordan tried to reassure herself as well as Sam. "I'm glad I could get in this last-minute. I guess the new undergrads are not in yet. I'm lucky, really. It was this or staying with my parents and sharing a room with Tasha. And she's almost seven now, so you know she would have a real attitude about that. Plus, I would have to take a train in every day."
Jordan realised she was reiterating the merits of her living situation, mostly for her own benefit; to help her justify her decision to come here.
Sam smiled. "I think it's great, Jordan," she said again, while she sat down on the bed.
Jordan sat down too. "I have to share the kitchen with six others. That's not great, but I'll just invite myself over to yours for dinner all the time."
"Of course, I would expect nothing else! I'm just so stoked that you're here! We're in the same town again, for the first time since high school. This is going to be amazing!"
"Well, you should thank Professor Harrison. And the university for poaching her with a full professorship," Jordan said. "In my field, when your supervisor relocates halfway through your PhD, you go with them!"
Jordan's PhD supervisor was quite the academic rock star, and Jordan had been over the moon when she had agreed to supervise her research. Her guidance had been everything Jordan had hoped for and more; she always knew exactly what to say or ask to make Jordan go the extra mile.
Needless to say, it had come as a shock when she had told Jordan she was changing jobs. She had presented Jordan with her options: continue at the same university and be allocated a new supervisor, or join Professor Harrison at the new place and finish her PhD there. After some online research, Jordan had realised that this sort of thing happened quite often, especially now that pressure in academic jobs was rising.
For Jordan, the decision was a no-brainer, really. There wasn't anyone as good as Professor Harrison, and Jordan didn't want to risk a new supervisor disagreeing with her entire research plan. Besides, there was the added benefit that she would be closer to her fieldwork and to her best friend.
"If I ever meet her, I will be sure to thank her for bringing my friend to me," Sam said. "How's uni anyway? How are the other students?"
"I haven't actually met any of them yet. I've obviously come in at a weird time in the academic year, so it's not like there's been any inductions or anything. Some of them are probably also away for the summer. And I'm usually there in the evenings, when no one is around."
"Maybe you should try going in when they are actually around." Sam grinned and shook her head warily.
"You know me; my brain only really kicks in around mid-afternoon! And even then I usually start working in Starbucks while I wait for the caffeine to reach every cell in my brain, before even showing my face in the department."
Sam laughed. "Yeah, I remember that all too well. It drove the teachers insane how useless you were in the mornings. Ask you anything in last period, though, and you were a freaking genius. They could never figure that one out."
Jordan laughed too. "They thought I wouldn't amount to much. I just needed a different schedule; that was all."
"I always believed in you," Sam said with a grin.
Jordan chuckled. "Of course you did, Miss World. Was that before or after you had a crush on me?"
"Every. Single. Time... Do you have to bring that up every single time? I should never have told you."
"Where would be the fun in that?" Jordan teased her friend. "Besides, we might both still be chasing boys now if it weren't for that."
"What do you mean 'still chasing boys'? I can't recall we ever did much of that. Well, I certainly didn't," Sam countered.
"No, of course not. You were too busy mooning over me." They both laughed.
"Speaking of chasing people," Jordan continued, "where do you go here? What's the scene like? Anything interesting?"
One downside of moving here was that in one fell swoop she'd abandoned most of her social life and all her favourite hang-outs.
"I don't really do the scene... I think there's one lesbian bar and a bunch of places for guys downtown, but I haven't been," Sam confessed.
"You've lived here for four years and you've never been to the one lesbian bar!? What's wrong with you?"
Jordan wasn't really all that surprised. Sam was never really that drawn to the meat market culture that invariably ensued in a small gay scene. She'd be a big hit there, though; Jordan was sure of that. With her dreadlocks and her huge green eyes with their intelligent gaze, and then the whole tomboy look she had going on; girls loved that.
"Where do you go then? It's Friday night. Let's go somewhere!" Surely, her friend did go out on a Friday night? "Oh wait," she added, "as long as it's not one of those old man joints you go to play pool."
"They are not old man joints! But actually, on a Friday I usually join the guys from work at this cocktail place near the office. It's a bit of a yuppie place but they have good cocktails and the bartender is nice."
"Sounds great! Let's go there," Jordan said enthusiastically, eager to start exploring her new home town.
A bus ride later, they entered the bar and found a table towards the back of the room. Sam said a quick hello to her colleagues at another table and went to the bar to get some cocktails for her and Jordan. When she returned she said: "So, yeah, that's her." She nudged towards the bar.
Jordan looked in the indicated direction, slightly confused. That was who? The only person clearly in their line of sight was the bartender, who was facing away from them. The girl was busy putting bottles back on the shelves.
"The bartender?" Jordan asked, not quite sure what Sam wanted her to see.
Sam nodded and grinned. Jordan recognised that look. So that was what Sam meant when she said the bartender was 'nice': she was 'capital N, Nice' - nice to look at, and maybe more. Jordan turned her attention to the bar once again.
"She's cute," she said, a bit prematurely, as she could still only see the back of the girl.
The bartender had short, spiky hair that was bright pink. She was quite tall and had a good figure. She was wearing a black polo-shirt, with the logo and name of the bar. When the girl turned round, Jordan could finally see her face. She really was cute. Jordan now made out that her hair was actually blond with fierce pink highlights, which gave it an overall punky appearance. It fell in messy peaks over her forehead, ending just above her eyes. She had full lips and bright eyes that perused the whole bar; looking for anything she could do for her customers. She looked familiar. It was so out of context that it took Jordan a moment to realise that she had seen the bartender before.
"Hey, I know her!" She called out.
"What?" Sam gave her a baffled look. "You've been in town a week. How can you possibly know her?"
"Well, I don't know her, know her. But I've seen her before. She goes to my new boxing gym."
Jordan remembered seeing the girl there because of her notable appearance. Jordan had gone to the gym every morning the past week, joining in a group session on some mornings and sparring or working on the bag on others. She'd seen the girl in a group session, but she'd had been on the beginners' side of the room, while Jordan trained with the advanced fighters.
"How do you already have a boxing gym here? You've been here a week!"
"Girl's gotta train, Sam! I've got a fight coming up next weekend, remember? This place came highly recommended and my trainer hooked me up with one of the guys there."
"Okay, fair enough. That makes sense. And she goes there too?" Sam asked incredulously, as if she couldn't really picture the bartender as a boxer. Jordan had to agree that it didn't quite fit the sweet face. But looks could be deceiving.
"Yeah, kickboxing training. I've only seen her twice, I think. In the mornings. When was it? Sunday definitely, and Tuesday maybe, or Wednesday?" Jordan waved her hand dismissively; it didn't matter when she saw her. What mattered was that her friend clearly liked this girl and she had to find out more about this.
"Anyway, what do we know about her? Did you talk to her? Apart from ordering a drink, of course," Jordan asked.
"Her name is Megan; I got that far. Other than that, I don't know a hell of a lot."
"But you are on it? I mean, you're flirting with her?" Jordan couldn't believe that was all there was to say. Sam was naturally charming, and a great flirt; if she had tried, it would have worked.
"I have tried... Trust me, I have. Every time I go over there, I try. The guys from work think it's hilarious. They always make me get the drinks and quiz me after."
"So, what happens?"
