I grabbed my bag, hoisted it off the belt, and wandered outside to the bus terminal. I breathed in the crisp air and held my breath until my chest ached. Dampness permeated my face, but it wasn’t raining. In the distance, varying shades of green created a patchwork design against the small hills.
I pulled out my travel book and looked at the address and bus route I had scribbled on the inside front cover. Not knowing if I was in the right place, my chest tightened and my lungs constricted. Breathing deeply and searching for the bus signs, I reminded myself that I needed to be brave and fearless.
I had seen the apartment in pictures but didn’t know if I had made the right choice. According to the website, we’d be living with people from our same country. I hadn’t received confirmation of my roommates and prayed we’d get along. Looking at the people waiting for the bus, I fantasized about which one could be my roommate.
We loaded the coach bus and I chose a seat halfway back. Based on my ticket, I should arrive in approximately two hours. As I got comfortable against the seat of the bus, a flash of red dashed past me. I turned and saw the same crooked teeth, crinkly eyes, and spiky hair that had soaked my pants and denied me dinner just a few hours earlier.
Weird. Maybe those weren’t his parents. He sat diagonally behind me, and I caught his amber eyes and smiled. He ignored me and put on his headphones, facing the dusty window.
I second-guessed myself and questioned my vision. Maybe it’s not him. Maybe I’m exhausted and seeing things. I turned away and watched the rolling hills sprint by my window as we made our way through the country towns to the biggest city on the Atlantic coast. Chatter filled the bus as I sat in solitude, absorbing the accent and vocabulary. Craic. Feck. Grand. Bollocks. Eejit. Feeling like an imposter while eavesdropping on the surrounding conversations, I leaned into my guidebook. After flipping from front to back to front again, I leaned back in my seat and let the lullaby of their syllables relax me. The allure to recreate myself and fit in with the locals was strong, and I wanted to use their words like they were my own.
The bus made multiple stops along the way, and my sweaty hands gripped my pocketbook as I checked the time against my ticket and against the bus station sign out my window. We were finally here.
I busied myself with my pocketbook and travel book, ensuring I had everything—wallet, passport, travel guide. Check, check, check. The red-haired guy slid past me with his backpack slung over his shoulder, and it fell to his elbow, smacking me in the face.
“Ow!”
Oblivious to his body in space and distracted by the music in his ears, he continued down the aisle and off the bus.
Annoyed, I rubbed my arm and waited for everyone else to depart before venturing below to grab my suitcase. By the time I got outside, the red-haired guy was gone.
Galway City bustled with people, and most appeared around my age. I scanned the street for taxis and walked down the block, quickening my pace to grab a car before it was gone.
I climbed into the taxi and pulled out my book. Hesitating, I silently reread the name of my apartment building, unsure how to pronounce it. “Beal-tane, please. Apartment 102.” I didn’t know if I made sense or if I just produced gibberish.
He held his hand back. “Can I see that address?”
I handed him my tourism book and prayed he wouldn’t accidentally rip the wet pages.
“Ah, yes. Be-al-tin. Yes, May first. The Festival of Fire.”
Unsure what he was saying, I reached between the two front seats, pointing at the address. “Um, this is where I’m going. I’m not going to a festival, I’m going to an apartment.”
He handed me back my book and whipped out of the taxi terminal, zooming down the narrow but busy street.
“First time, aye?”
I wasn’t sure if I should answer him truthfully. “Um, yes,” I mumbled, looking out the window. A large park filled with people walking, playing games, and laying in the sunshine flew by my right side. “What’s that?”
“Eyre Square. Brilliant day to be outside.”
“I’ll have to go there.”
“Did’ja know Bealtaine is an apartment building named after the Festival of Fire? Too bad you weren’t here on May 1st. It marked the first day of summer here in Ireland. You also missed the Celtic Harvest festival. The next big festival is the Lisdoonvarna Matchmaking Festival in September. Are you single?”
I spun my head to the midline of his car. “No, I have a boyfriend.” I played with the ring around my finger, recalling the last time I saw Scott. He hadn’t seemed too concerned that I would be gone for almost half a year. He kissed me good-bye, gave me this ring, and then told me he had to get to his soccer game, as if he were telling me he had to go to the grocery store and I would see him in a few hours, not a few months. Snapping out of my memory, I asked, “Why?”
The taxi driver shrugged. “It’s a fun festival if you’re single. Lots of pretty men and women. There’s even a matchmaker to set you up with someone.”
Before I could respond with some snarky comment about being taken, the car halted. “Here you go. The front office of Bealtaine.” He enunciated each syllable of the Gaelic word, and my inner voice repeated it for future reference.
I paid the man with the euro bills I had ordered from my bank in Boston and retrieved my bag. Unsure of how much to tip, I paid him double, silently scolding myself for not being more prepared.
A pub and a convenience store flanked the sides of the three-story apartment building that I would call home. A handful of college kids moved about the street, carrying boxes and bags, and I couldn’t help but wonder if any of them were my roommates.
Suddenly hot, I fanned myself and giggled nervously. My parched mouth made it difficult to swallow. “Come on, Rory, you got this,” I whispered, facing the main door. Welcome to your new life. Welcome home.
The receptionist in the main office checked me in and gave me a key. Standing outside my apartment, I double-checked my new address. Yep, this was the place. I crammed the key into the lock and shoved the door with my hip. It swung open to a long, brightly lit hallway lined with doors. As I dragged my suitcase down the hallway, incoherent noise turned into giddiness and laughter.
