The house was on a street corner. A Victorian terraced building, but not an aesthetically pleasing one, and it had worryingly small windows. The five of us stood outside, staring up at it, nobody speaking. No one wanted to say what we were all thinking: it looked kind of shit.

A month after our play performance, me, Rooney, Pip and Jason realised that we did not have anywhere to live next year. Durham University’s college accommodation was primarily for first-year students and a few third- and fourth-year students – second-years were generally expected to find their own place to live. So most freshers had formed little groups around December and January, gone house hunting, and signed rental agreements.

Due to the drama of this year, we had totally missed the memo. And by the end of April, most of the university-arranged rental accommodation in Durham was already completely taken for the next academic year, which left us having to trawl through dodgy adverts on private landlord websites.

‘I’m sure it’s nicer on the inside,’ said Rooney, stepping forward and knocking on the door.

‘You said that about the last three,’ said Pip, arms folded.

‘And I’ll be right, eventually.’

‘Just to say,’ said Sunil, ‘maybe we should reconsider how bothered we are about having a living room.’

Although Sunil was in his third year, he’d decided at the last minute to return next year to do a master’s degree in music. He still had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, which I thought was very relatable and understandable, and he said he loved being at Durham and wanted to stay for a little while longer.

But Jess was leaving at the end of the year. In fact, most of Sunil’s third-year friends were. As soon as we discovered this, we asked him to live with us, and he said yes.

The door opened and a tired student let us in, explaining that everyone was out at lectures except her so we could walk around and look in any of the rooms we wanted. We all headed into the kitchen first, which doubled up as the living room with a sofa on one side and the kitchen counters on the other. It was all very old and well used, but seemed functional and clean, which was all we needed. We were students. We couldn’t be picky.

‘It’s actually not bad,’ said Sunil.

‘See?’ said Rooney, gesturing around. ‘I told you this would be the one.’

Jason folded his arms. ‘It’s quite … small.’ The top of his head was very close to the ceiling.

‘But no black mould,’ Pip pointed out.

‘And there’s enough room to have everyone here,’ I said. By ‘everyone’, I meant the five of us, plus the others who’d been coming along to our rehearsals – well, they weren’t really rehearsals any more. It wasn’t like we had another play to prepare for this year, and we were all getting busy with exams and coursework, so we usually just met up to chat, watch movies, and get takeaway food. Every Friday night in my and Rooney’s room.

Sometimes Sunil would bring Jess along, or Pip would bring her friends Lizzie and Leo. Sometimes half the Castle men’s rowing team showed up – loud boys who scared me at first, but were actually quite nice when you got to know them. Sometimes it’d just be the original five, or fewer if we were busy.

It had become a ritual. My favourite university ritual.

‘And this is the perfect place for Roderick!’ said Rooney brightly, pointing at an empty corner next to the sofa arm.

We headed towards the two downstairs bedrooms, which were both pretty ordinary. Jason and I peered into the second one. It was almost as messy as Pip’s current bedroom.

‘I always wanted a downstairs bedroom,’ said Jason. ‘I don’t know why. It just seemed cool.’

‘You’d be right next to the road.’

‘I think I’d like it. Ambient noise. And look!’ He pointed at a patch of empty wall above the bed – enough room for a framed photograph. ‘The perfect place for Mystery Inc.’

It’d been Jason’s birthday the week before. One of his presents from me: a framed photograph of the whole Scooby-Doo gang. All five of them.

‘I’d like a downstairs room,’ said Sunil, who’d appeared behind us. ‘I like being close to the kitchen. Easy snack access.’

Jason glanced at him warily. ‘As long as you’re not practising cello late at night.’

‘You mean you don’t want to listen to my beautiful music in the early hours of the morning?’

Jason laughed and headed upstairs, leaving Sunil and me to wander into the first bedroom, careful not to touch any of the current occupant’s stuff.

And then Sunil said, ‘I wanted to run an idea by you, Georgia.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Well, I’m only going to be Pride Soc president for a couple more months, and before I have to step down … I wanted to set up a new group within Pride Soc. A society for aromantic and asexual students. And I suppose I wondered … whether you’d want to be involved. Not necessarily as president of it, but … well, I don’t know. I just wanted to ask. No pressure, though.’

‘Oh. Um …’ I immediately felt nervous about the idea. I still had days where I wasn’t brimming with confidence about my sexuality, despite all the days where I felt proud and grateful that I knew who I was and what I wanted. Maybe the bad days would become less and less common, but … I didn’t know. I couldn’t know.

Maybe a lot of people felt like that about their identity. Maybe it would just take time.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I’m not even out to my parents.’

Sunil nodded understandingly. ‘That’s OK. Just let me know after you’ve thought about it.’

I nodded back. ‘I will.’

He gazed into the bedroom at the way the evening light was hitting the floor. ‘It’s been a good year, but I’m looking forward to stepping down. I think I deserve a more restful year, next year.’ He smiled to himself. ‘It’d be nice. To have a rest.’

There were three more bedrooms upstairs, and Pip and Rooney immediately beelined for the most obviously large one.

‘I’m having this one,’ said Pip and Rooney simultaneously, then glared at each other.

‘I need more room,’ said Rooney. ‘I’m like a whole foot taller than you.’

‘Um, firstly, that’s a lie, you are only a few inches taller –’

‘At least six inches.’

‘And secondly, I need more room because I have way more clothes than you.’

‘You’re both going to be sleeping in the same room loads anyway,’ Jason muttered, rolling his eyes, and Pip shot him a look that mixed embarrassment with alarm while Rooney immediately went bright red, opened her mouth, and began to protest.

Rooney had still been spending nights out of our room. The first time it happened after the play, I was scared that she’d gone back to heavy drinking and clubbing with strangers, but when I eventually confronted her about it, she timidly revealed that she was spending all of those nights in Pip’s room. And the clothes she kept leaving there were a bit of a giveaway.

She’d spend nights in our room too, though. Lots of nights. It wasn’t like she’d replaced me, or I was less important.

She was one of my best friends. I was one of hers. And we both understood what that meant now.

Once Rooney had finished berating Jason for bringing up her sex life and Jason had tactically retreated towards the bathroom, I watched as Rooney and Pip stood together in the doorway. Rooney gently touched Pip’s hand with hers, and Rooney leant towards her and whispered something I couldn’t hear that made Pip grin wide.

I stepped away to peer inside another of the bedrooms. This one had a big sash window, a sink in the corner, and whoever lived here had stuck polaroid photos all over one of the walls. The carpet was kind of odd – it had a bold red pattern that reminded me of Gran’s curtains – but I didn’t dislike it. I didn’t dislike any of it.

It wasn’t fancy, or anything. But I could really imagine myself living here. I could imagine all of us here, starting a new academic year, coming home and slumping on the sofa next to each other, chatting in the kitchen in the mornings over bowls of cereal, crowding into the biggest bedroom for movie nights, falling asleep in each other’s beds when we were too tired to move.

I could imagine all of it. A future. A small future, and not a forever future, but a future, nonetheless.

‘What d’you think?’ asked Rooney, who’d come to stand next to me in the doorway.

‘It’s … OK,’ I said. ‘It’s not perfect.’

‘But?’

I smiled. ‘But I think we could have fun here.’

She smiled back. ‘I agree.’

Rooney returned to continue arguing with Pip over the largest bedroom, but I just stayed there for a moment, looking at what might be my future living space. After months of sleeping next to one of my best friends, I was a little nervous about going back to a solo bedroom. Sleeping in a silent room with just my thoughts.

I had time to get used to the idea, though.

Until then, we would keep the beds together.