The bookmark

Annabelle sighed heavily as she stared out of the window. The University library was situated on a hill and from her seat in the corner she could see students playing football and cricket on the fields below, interspersed with small groups of friends laughing and chatting together in the mid October sun, coffee cups with plastic lids snug in their gloved hands.

Her laptop sat open before her with a blank word document glowing accusingly on the screen and to its left was her pile of mechanical engineering textbooks, the pages still crisp and barely turned. University just wasn’t living up to its expectations. Her tutor was a grizzly mechanic who mumbled when he spoke and seemed reluctant to offer more than the minimal amount of assistance. The guys on her course barely spoke to her and her housemates were all silly, giggling girls who talked incessantly about their hair and nails and drank Lambrini. She missed her friends from back home, moshing out at rock music gigs, having parties on the beach or playing poker late in to the night when one of their parents was out of town.

Snapping out of her reverie she slammed the laptop shut aggressively and stood up, the clattering of her chair causing a few of the other students to flash her disapproving glances. She ignored them and headed for the exit – it was obvious she wasn’t going to get any work done today.

As she went to leave, something by the front desk caught her eye. It was a notice board peppered with small, oblong cards, rather like bookmarks and all of them had messages written on them. She drew closer. Scribbled on the back of a bookmark she read the most interesting thing:

"POKER NIGHT. OCTOBER 17TH 8PM. ALL WELCOME. BRING TREATS."

It was followed by the name and address of a pub in the nearby town. Bring treats? She wondered, what was that supposed to mean? But it was worth a shot – if she didn’t make some new friends soon she was going to go crazy! And 17th was tonight – perhaps it was fate.

A few hours later she was stood outside the Pig and Whistle pub holding a box of a dozen Krispy Kreme chocolate donuts, wondering if she was doing the right thing. What if it was a setup? Some kind of cruel prank intended to humiliate lonely freshers? She shook the thought away and taking a breath entered the building. The bar was empty except for a long haired guy standing behind the bar wearing a Metallica T shirt and a ring in his nose.

“Um, I’m here for the poker,” Annabelle said in a small voice.

“Downstairs,” He replied, pointing to a door on his right.

She clambered down the steep, stone steps and found herself in a windowless room hazy with smoke. Through the gloom she could see a poker table with half a dozen people sat around it. They were chatting idly, toying with their piles of chips and the mood seemed light and mellow, with a rock ballad she recognised playing in the background. She stood awkwardly in the doorway wondering how to introduce herself when a young man approached her. He had spikey black hair and tattoos down his bare arms.

“Hello!” He shouted, even though she was barely a foot away from him. He smiled and she returned the gesture. He was cute.

“Now, before I can let you enter I have to ask you a serious question – did you bring treats?” He stared at her with piercing blue eyes and for a moment she wondered whether he was joking or not – but his eyes had a playful twinkle to them. She proffered the donuts and laughed.

“This, “ He replied in mock seriousness, “Is the Holy Grail of treats! Welcome to the club – let me introduce you to everyone, I think you will fit right in.” He took her arm and steered her towards the table and somehow, she had the feeling that he was right.

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