“Oh, we won’t. Does anyone want to dance with me? What do I do?” Zoey looked around, and Marissa stood. “Anyone else? Jaime? Aoife? C’mon, you’re the Irish dancing queen.”
I crouched down in my seat, embarrassed by the memory I couldn’t recall.
Jaime took a sip of his beer. “Only if we all do it.”
“Oh no, I’m a terrible dancer,” I said.
Marty leaned forward so we could hear her over the loud music. “Rory, you are a brilliant dancer!”
I cringed at her forced use of Irish adjectives.
“Come on. Let’s do it,” Zoey agreed. “You’re only in Ireland once. Scott? Marissa? Owen?” She was
already up, pulling people beside her.
The group filed toward the empty space in front of the band. “How do I do this?” I asked Jaime.
“It’s a repeated dance, so you’ll get it after a few tries.” The eight of us lined up facing each other at the group’s tail to not mess up the veterans and watched the crowd dance two complete sets before joining in.
Kicking, sashaying, spinning, and sidestepping my partner, I danced beside Owen. Jaime stood beside Aoife across from us, Marissa and Zoey stood to my left, and Marty and Scott stood opposite. The four pairs faced each other to create two squares. Exhausted and elated by the end of the first set, I spun in a circle, falling into Owen’s arms.
I tripped my way to Jaime, hooking arms with Scott and spinning out of control with Marty, and I blamed my enjoyment on the magic of Ireland.
We danced for hours, the pints flowed, and Jaime and I sat back, watching the others take lessons from Aoife.
“Does anyone need to use the bathroom?” Marty asked a few hours later. Scott sat beside me, watching Aoife teach Marissa how to sequence the steps.
“Me.” Zoey handed her drink to Marissa and followed Marty out of the main room.
Jaime ran his hands through his sweaty, spiky hair. “Scott, want another drink? I’ll buy another round,” He walked to the bar, leaving me alone with Scott for the first time since he arrived.
“Welcome to Ireland,” I said. I felt good, with just enough alcohol flowing through my veins to eliminate the hurt he caused by avoiding me. I pushed that emotion down and focused on the cheerful music and dance, trying to let the allure of Ireland sweep me away to a life without worries.
“Thanks for having us. It’s been awesome.”
After a moment of silence, I swallowed the lump in my throat and leaned forward. “Scott, did you get any of my emails these past few months?” His face flinched and his shoulders tightened.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I was busy with school, and every time I went to email you back, I got busy and forgot.”
Liar. The manipulation evaporated off his sleezy skin and I could almost see it in the air. I continued smiling and closed my eyes, pretending I didn’t hear him. I will not let him ruin my last weeks in Ireland.
Zoey and Marty returned from the bathroom and Zoey cuddled next to me and gripped her arm through mine. Her hands fluttered, shredding a napkin into tiny pieces. “You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, yeah. I think I’m done drinking for tonight.”
“Too much?”
“Yeah, I’m not feeling well.”
“You don’t look well,” I said, noticing her pale face and sunken eyes. “Let me know if you want to go home. I’ll go with you.”
She squeezed my arm with her free hand. “I want to go home.”
Frowning with concern, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Uh, sure thing. Let me tell Jaime.”
I maneuvered to the bar and told him Zoey wasn’t feeling well. “Have fun tonight, and if they get annoying, make an excuse and send them home.”
“No worries,” he said.
