Friday afternoon came around, and Arran was in a good mood. His last period was Italian, and instead of rushing through the translation the class was working on like he normally did, he took his time working it into something less literal and more poetic. Professoressa Abiatti beamed at him as she read it and stopped him at the end of class to chat with him about it. Because of this he was late to meet Naomi in the carpark.

"I thought you'd ditched me," she complained when he found her.

"I was actually just talking to Abiatti about where I could get some extra reading. I thought you'd be proud."

"I think shocked would be more apt," was her counter.

"Come on, let's get going."

He led her over to the car, and opened the boot, throwing his bag. He held his hand out to take Naomi's bag and saw her staring at him.

"What?"

"This is your car? It's a BMW."

"Yeah, well done. It's also blue, what's your point?"

She shook her head and handed him her bag. They got into the car but were stuck waiting for the crowd of students leaving the school to thin before they drove away.

"So this car probably cost more than the cost of the rest of my education, right?" she asked, running a finger over the stitches on the seam of the leather seats.

"Oh definitely," said Arran. "So I'd better drive carefully, which means you're in charge of the music as I can't be fiddling with my phone." He hit the button to sync his mobile with the car and tossed it to her. "There's a lot of stuff on there, but you can stream anything if my tastes don't measure up." Arran saw a gap in the crowd and pulled out of the car park as Naomi scrolled through his phone and laughed. "What?"

"Your playlists," she explained. "What's with this? 'Monday Afternoons Spent Being a Whiny Bitch', 'Soundtrack for a Mediocre Halloween'."

"Stop looking through those." He interrupted, trying to grab the phone.

"Hey, hands on the steering wheel." He gave up. "'Playlist for a Post-Ironic Vampire', oh my god I love it, what is this? It's bizarre."

"It was just a thing me and my ex-girlfriend did sometimes, ok? We made stupid playlists for each other."

"Is she a post-ironic vampire?" she teased.

"She's actually a metamodernist, feminist werewolf," he answered, masking the truth with a joke.

"I would love to meet a metamodernist, feminist werewolf."

"I think you'd actually get on really well, if you ever met each other."

"So does that make you the post-ironic vampire?" she grinned.

"Oh yeah, that's me all over."

"I thought you were supposed to be a witch."

"Clearly I'm just complicated. Do me a favour, in that playlist there's a song called 'Fresh Blood' by Eels, put it on."

"I didn't actually want to listen to it."

"Hey you wouldn't leave it alone, so it's what we're listening to."

Arran turned the music up and they continued on their journey. They missed the worst of the traffic so when they arrived in Blackpool 40 minutes later they still two hours to kill before the play. Aran suggested that they find somewhere to eat and they wound up in a restaurant called Alba, somewhere that Arran knew served good food.

"It's a little pricey, isn't it?" Naomi said from behind the menu.

"It's definitely worth it." Arran had spent a lot of time here during the quieter moments of his wild summer. A waitress approached to take their drinks order, as she approached the table Arran recognised her, too late to explain himself.

"Oh hello," Cynthia said, smiling widely. "Starting a little early tonight, aren't you?"

"Hey Cynthia, I thought you'd be back at Uni by now." Naomi looked at him questioningly, he shot her an apologetic look.

Cynthia pulled a face. "I blew my loan too quickly, so I'm coming back and working weekends, keeps me out of trouble. Unfortunately." She winked at Naomi who blushed heavily.

Arran and Cynthia had had fun together, she was someone he could count on to go home with if he failed to find anyone at another bar and he gave her nights in nice hotels and a way to break up the boredom of the long summer break. It was the exact kind of casual friendship that he wanted at the time, but he didn't think she and Naomi would get on.

"How did you blow your entire loan in three weeks?" He asked, a little impressed.

"With pomp and vigour." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Have you two got a fun night ahead?"

"We're seeing a play," Naomi offered.

"Ooh, that's a bit classy. Better than drinks at Black Dahlia, at any rate."

"This isn't a date," Arran clarified, Naomi was looking even more uncomfortable.

"Does that mean you're free tonight?"

"Do you have, like, a single ounce of shame?" He was normally fond of her brashness, but right now he wanted the conversation to be over.

"You know I don't." Another wink to Naomi, she apparently either didn't see or care about her discomfort.

"I'm not free. I'd like a lemonade and a little less harassment, please." He said it in a joking tone, but caught her eye to let her know that he meant it.

"Of course, sir" she replied. "And for you?"

"Just a tap water, thanks," Naomi muttered in response.

Cynthia bounced away with a chirpy, "Be right back." Arran doubted this, she was good in bed and had a sharp mind, but she was a terrible waitress.

"Who's she?" asked Naomi.

He didn't think Naomi would approve of the nature of his relationship with her, but he had a feeling that if he lied Cynthia would land him in it with more detailed flirting. 

"She's my fuck buddy," he managed awkwardly.

"Like currently?" 

"No. Well maybe. I'm not totally sure."  Arran couldn't tell if she was just shocked or offended. They'd never put an end to it, but it had been a while.

"She literally just asked you if you were free tonight."

"That's probably just because she thinks I'm trying to pull you and wants to make it harder for me. That's her idea of fun."

"It's impossible to make that harder Arran, you couldn't pull me if you tried."

"Good thing I'm not trying then, isn't it?"

"I don't think I'd ever sleep with someone who slept with people like that." She narrowed her eyes as she watched Cynthia at the bar, who was leaning over the counter and trying to feed the bartender a cherry.

"Do you want to stop being so much of a bitch?" he said. 

Naomi's jaw dropped. Honestly, Arran was surprised himself, but she'd really hit a nerve. He didn't expect Naomi to like Cynthia, but he wasn't prepared for her to be so judgemental. 

"What does that mean?" he continued, unable to stop himself, "'Someone like that', someone who enjoys themselves?"

"Someone who spends most of their time sleeping around and partying."

"Actually I think getting non-stop first class grades for her Philosophy degree probably takes up quite a lot of her time. She just enjoys herself in her spare time, like other normal people." He snapped.

There was a long pause. Arran didn't want to make Naomi angry, but he couldn't let it go. Cynthia brought the drinks back to a tense silence.

"Yikes, this most certainly isn't a date," she said as she set the drinks on the table.

"Is it good to be back at Liverpool?" he asked, ignoring her comment.

"Like you wouldn't believe, it's gonna be a great year. I need to send you some of the things I've read."

"Great, I'll be sure to try to read them and call you when I don't understand anything."

Cynthia took their food orders and disappeared. Arran was wondering how to break the silence when Naomi spoke up.

"I think you're right, actually. I was being a bit of a bitch."

Arran wasn't sure how to respond, he knew he was right but he was glad she admitted it. "I'm sorry that I called you a bitch." He settled on.

"No, it means a lot to me that you'd call me out on it. I think sometimes I can have a kind of narrow worldview."

"No you don't."

"Come on, I talk a lot of talk, I read a lot of books, but I don't do a lot. I don't get out much, I don't meet new people, I have zero independence. The only reason I could come out tonight was because we're studying the play in school. I hardly even have any friends."

"You've got me! You've got James."

"Yeah, and before I started talking to you guys I thought he was an idiot who couldn't do anything but crack jokes and I thought you were a reclusive jerk."

Arran thought for a minute. "You don't think that now, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Well then clearly you're not actually a bitch. You just need to open up a little, okay?"

"Okay." She smiled at him.

The rest of dinner passed much more pleasantly and it was soon time to head to the theatre. Arran left a large tip and they ducked out before Cynthia had time to refuse it. By the time they got to the theatre, all was forgiven and Arran was having fun.