“Come on, let’s go. It’s over here.” Jaime speed-walked down the recently mowed aisles and the scent of damp grass overpowered the scent of roses. Every bush looked exactly the same. He eyed them, walking up and down the row, and stopped mid-way. “Here. This is it.” He pointed at a bush with magenta flowers. “This is it. I know it. We came here during fourth year. I remember that tree behind it.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Is this all a farce?
Looking beyond the neatly pruned bush, I saw an apple tree in the near distance. One red apple rested against the trunk and disappointment settled in my stomach. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but a random bush amid an entire row was not nearly as exciting as I had anticipated in my mind.
Nerves jittered through my body, and I glanced at my American roommates. Marissa rocked back on her heels and widened her eyes at me. Zoey leaned forward and smelled the flowers, oblivious to my sweaty palms. We had followed a random Irish guy into a nearly empty garden to check out an indistinguishable bush.
“Awesome,” I sputtered, and checked my watch. “We gotta go. The bus leaves in seven minutes.”
“Irish time,” Jaime mumbled. “They’ll wait for us.”
I wanted to believe him, but my life rotated around punctuality. Rolling my shoulders back, my muscles remained tight. I’m with an Irish guy who lives in the area. I need to trust him. We’ll be fine. “Okay.” Although despite what my mouth said, my body remained alert and I listened to the tick-tock of my watch.
I turned around, and Zoey and Marissa were already four steps ahead of me. “We gotta go,” Marissa called behind her shoulder. “If we get there first, we’ll tell the bus driver to wait.”
Jaime meandered through the garden, and I followed his lead. I wanted to trust him, but my heart raced faster with every minute gone. When we exited the garden and arrived at the abbey’s entrance, I couldn’t find Marissa or Zoey. Scanning the crowd, I cleared my throat, trying to dislodge the giant pit resting above my trachea. “Jaime, do you see them?” My crackly voice surprised me and nervous, loud-pitched laughter escaped from my mouth.
“They’re probably on the bus. We’ll be there in a minute.”
Perusing the parking lot, I located a handful of tour buses parked on the side. “We gotta go. We’re late.” I picked up my pace and lengthened my stride. Jaime remained a few steps behind, but I continued for the buses. I dodged between visitors and their incoherent chit-chat came at me from every angle. My eyes remained peeled on the buses and my gaze followed one as it crept out of the parking lot. My legs carried me forward even faster. I glanced at my watch but the numbers danced as my feet thumped against the wet ground.
“Sorry,” I mumbled to the couple I nearly bulldozed, and ran off before they could reply.
When I got to the bus stop, my heartbeat throbbed against my chest and my calf muscles burned. I looked up and down, expecting to see Declan hanging outside the bus, but he wasn’t there.
“Where’s the bus?” Jaime asked.
I turned and narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know.”
I knocked on the door of the closest bus, and a short, chipper man stepped down the stairs. “Hello,” he said.
“Hi, I’m looking for the bus that came from Galway. Declan was the driver. Do you know him?”
“Ah, yes, dear. Lovely bloke. He left about five minutes ago.”
My eyes widened, and my heart skipped a beat. “But my roommates were supposed to ask him to wait.”
“Tight schedule, ya know,” the man replied.
I muttered my thanks, shocked that a company would encourage leaving tourists somewhere in a foreign country, and turned toward Jaime.
He sat on the curb, watching me.
“You,” I said, pointing at him. My jaw clenched, and tension pulsated down my neck. Heat radiated through me, and I ripped my jacket off, throwing it on the ground next to him. I sat on the nylon and moved my face toward his, refusing to break eye contact. “You did this. I told you we were going to be late, but no! You said it would be grand.” I tried my best Irish accent, but it fell flat, and Jaime chuckled, making my blood boil. His response ignited a fire within me, and I erupted like a volcano. “I cannot believe you did this! I knew it. I knew it!” I sat beside him and leaned forward, placing my elbow on my bent knees. I wanted to cry, but the level of rage prevented the tears filling my eyes from falling. Instead, I flared my nostrils and leaned closer. “What do we do now?”
“I have a plan. It’ll be grand.”
Chapter 10
I wished I had a cell phone. Our apartment had a house line, but with the cost of international calling, it made little sense to use it. I relied on email to connect with my parents and Scott, either dialing in when no one else was using it or stopping at an Internet café between classes. Back in America, I had a cell phone, but only about half the kids here seemed to have one. It would have been convenient, especially now when I didn’t know where Marissa and Zoey were, but we were in the middle of nowhere.
“Do you think Marissa and Zoey are on the bus home?” I asked.
“Yeah, if they weren’t, don’t you think we would have seen them by now?”
“I still can’t believe the bus left without us. That would never happen in America.” I picked at my stubby fingernails, scraping the pink paint into tiny flakes. “I mean, if a driver left a tourist and something happened, they would be sued.”
“You Americans and your suing. Over in this country, we say that you’re an adult and you make your own choices. If you’re stupid enough to miss the bus, that’s on you.”