Teagan Clarke's University Bible

Commandment 6: Thou shalt not sleep with coursemates.

23 SEPTEMBER. FRIDAY.

"You did what?!"

"Look, I'm sorry! I obviously didn't mean to, it just sort of...happened?"

"Teagan Miranda Clarke. Take them back. Take them back right now."

"I took off the tags because they fit, I can't return them now."

"You are so stupid, Teagan! For God's sake, and now what? You want money so you can survive? Where's your overdraft?"

"I didn't apply for one, I didn't trust myself with it."

"Well for once, I actually agree. And thank the Lord you don't have a bloody credit card in your possession. So how much have you got left?

"Like...£200?"

"You think £200 is going to get you through ten weeks of university? And on a design-related course, no less. If we hadn't paid for your accommodation you'd be on the streets in less than a fortnight..."

Ah, hello there! Sorry, I was busy accounting Friday morning, as I confessed to my mum about my financial situation following Wednesday's antics. After spending the whopping six hundred pounds, I'd also been to the onesie night that same evening, followed by a sea-themed evening yesterday (I was seaweed, just in case you were wondering. It was really cute, I had all these dangly green strips all over and a tube skirt with a layer of them, too). This was the first time I'd been given a sum of money as large as £1100 in one go. It sounded like a lot, but God was it insignificant. As well as the clubbing and shopping, I'd also paid for things like a gym membership and things I needed for my course. There was also food, a lot of which was from Just Eat, Domino's or Deliveroo.

"Look, I'm going to give you another £200, Teagan. That's £400. It will not get you through the whole term, so get a job before you run out. Once you do run out, that's all you're getting from me and Dad. Grow up, and start acting like an adult. You're old enough to have sex and get drunk, you're old enough to budget." As Mum lectured me, I made faces at the phone as I tuned out and started mimicking her silently. I knew she was making total sense and just being a good parent, but I was only just about 18. There was still some immaturity in me yet. That wouldn't die for a while. "Okay?" she asked about God know's what, checking to see if I'd listened.

"Yes Mum," I drawled out, not knowing what I was agreeing to.

"Alright, well I have to go, and so do you. Enjoy your induction day, darling. Love you!" And with that, Mum ended the call, leaving me to let out a sigh of relief. I had survived a maternal attack.

I checked my banking app and smiled to myself as I looked at my new balance: £403.29. My mum was angry as fuck, but she still always cared. I was grateful for it, considering how badly I had cocked everything up. I locked the phone and went over to my wardrobe to get myself ready for my first real day of university. I opted for a checked shirt, dark jeans and a pair block-heeled boots. I put on a few rings and tied my hair back to focus on my makeup quickly. I went for my standard look, whereby I just neatened things up. I used matte primer to prevent my disgusting skin from producing oils, then concealed any spots or scars quickly. I did my brows, not making them bold, but literally just filling in any gaps I could spot and refining the shape. I lined my eyes with liquid liner, leaving out wings to avoid wasting time with precision. Finally, I applied a nude lipstick. Job done in 10 minutes!

I checked myself out in the mirror, undoing my ponytail and brushing it out so my hair lies straight and neat. I grabbed my straightener and flicked the ends of my hair so they curl inwards slightly. I used hairspray to set my little tweak. Feeling satisfied, I decided to get going.