Team Colours’: Not Your Typical fan Tale (Part Three)

Mon 17^th Oct

JCU

“Well, I’ll see you again next Monday, Marly.”  Professor Richard Pearson smiled as we walked out of his office.

“Thanks, Richard.  Have a good week.”  The professors at our university are very laid back, they like us to call them by their first names.  The other day in lectures I almost burst out laughing when one of the American students called out to Richard, ‘Professor Pearson!’  We parted ways.  I think he went to Rococo’s; I headed over to Cassie’s place.  Putting my headphones on I put my player on shuffle as I strolled past the Refect.  I hesitated at the ‘In’ door wondering if I should get something to eat; then I decided I’d probably be able to grab a cookie from Cassie and I continued on my way, humming along to BSB’s ‘Incomplete’. 

When I arrived at the Town House and knocked on her door Cassie opened it almost at exactly the same time so I ended up looking like a dork knocking at the air.

“Hey,” she smiled, “I thought you’d be here soon.  How was Richard?”

“He was in good form today; we went over the details of the project and he said I didn’t have to start on it till next week, but I have some reading to do.”

“Project?”

“Yes, didn’t I tell you?  I’m doing that Project’s in Animal Behaviour subject.  It’s a third year mini-research course.” I informed her.  She laughed.

“I forgot about that.  Heh, do you want a Coke?”

“Yeah, thanks.”  I opened her fridge and took out two cans offering one to Cassie.  “So, what are you doing?”

“I was checking to see who’s playing the Grand Final on Wednesday night.”

“It’s the Cowboys versus the Bulldogs.” I promptly supplied her with the score of the game on Saturday.  The final score had been 56-16; Jonathan Thurston had got the conversion. 

“Hey, Cass,” I thought of something then, “will we be taking the Simple Plan guys to the game?”

“Yes, that’s one of the events I’ve organized with management that they’ll get to go to.”

“Cool…God, I can’t wait…one sleep and…ah…” I sat on the edge of her bed.  Just the thought of meeting them was mind-boggling.  I wasn’t sure how I’d react tomorrow; hopefully I wouldn’t make a fool of myself. 

“Excited?” Cassie glanced over at me.

“Very…almost to the point that I feel sick to the stomach…but knowing me I’ll be absolutely fine tomorrow.”  I smoothed out the wrinkles of the blanket on the bed and then rubbed my hand on my pants absently.

“You should have an early night,” she suggested.  I nodded in agreement; then I changed the subject.

“You doing any marine subjects this semester?”

“Yes, I’m doing…the benthic marine one, aren’t you doing that as well?”

For the next few hours we chatted about classes, until I checked the clock: 4:00 PM; I had to get home. 

“See you tomorrow; I’ll pick you up and we’ll head down to the Swamp.”

I arrived home, hung my car keys on the hook and made my way to my bedroom.  I flopped down on my bed and stared at the posters on my wall:  Four Simple Plan, two of Pierre Bouvier, one Good Charlotte one.  I chuckled to myself then grabbed my CD player and pressed it on allowing the chords of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons wash over me.