Chapter 4
Zoey, Marissa, and I didn’t know how to get to the city center. I pulled out my Galway map and spread it on the counter. “Here we are.” I pointed to a circle I had drawn on the bus ride earlier that day. “And here’s Shop Street, High Street, and Quay Street.” I highlighted a direct route to the Latin Quarter.
“I don’t know,” Zoey said. “Maybe we should ask someone before we get lost or end up in a sketchy neighborhood.”
“I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb, like a tourist who needs a map to get around,” Marissa added. Both girls giggled and I folded up my map, wounded by their attack on my organizational skills.
“Fine, no map. But how will we find out where we’re going?” I asked.
Marissa took my map, shoved it into my guide book and left it in my room. “We ask,” she said, closing my door.
“Ask who? We barely know our own address, let alone any Irish people.”
Marissa grabbed her purse and threw it over her shoulder. “We live in an apartment building filled with Irish students who know their way around. Let’s go introduce ourselves.”
Zoey hurried after her toward the door, and I stood, unsure of the plan. It felt more obtrusive to announce to strangers that we didn’t know where we were, as opposed to looking at a map and creating a plan to prevent getting lost.
“You coming?” Zoey called through the front door.
I huffed, threw on a smile, and followed them down the hall.
We heard conversation flowing under the door to one of our neighboring apartments, and Marissa grinned. “Sounds Irish in there.” She knocked and waited with a tall posture and confident smile. I shrank back a bit, in case our arrival wasn’t welcome. Zoey stood between us, looking around Marissa’s shoulder when the door opened.
Marissa stepped forward. “Hi, my name is Marissa, and this is Zoey, and this is Rory. We live down the hall.”
“Sinead,” a woman around our age said. “Want to come in?”
We followed her down the narrow hallway and saw two men and a woman hanging out on the couch and loveseat. They made eye contact, but continued with their private conversation. Their apartment was a replica of ours.
“Ronan, Owen, and Bridget,” Sinead said, pointing to the others.
They turned and we waved, our bodies remaining stiff, unsure of whether we should make ourselves at home or just get the directions and go.
“Crazy question, but can you tell us how to get to the city center from here? We’re walking,” I said. “It’s our first day.” I dropped my eyes and felt a blush travel up my cheeks.
Sinead gave me a reassuring smile. “Of course.”
They guided us to the main strip of pubs, restaurants, and clubs, and I jotted down keywords in my small notebook. We thanked them and strolled outside into the warm setting sun, embracing the cool Irish air.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Zoey said.
“Not at all. Maybe we’ll see them again.” Marissa led the way and my feet throbbed as we walked downhill into town. When we passed the cathedral, I made a mental note to never wear these shoes again.
The lights and music from Shop Street filtered up to us as we made our way along the river. A smattering of people roamed along the cobblestone street, and I fell into step with them. Irish mixed with American accents and live music from all the venues collected in the center of the pedestrian road, reminding me I wasn’t in Boston anymore. The beautiful cacophony enhanced my mood, and I weaved my way into the pub Sinead recommended.
We approached the bar and waited for the bartender to acknowledge us. I wasn’t sure what the social rules were regarding pub life, but I knew the bartender needed to get us a drink. I clutched my bag, praying he wouldn’t ask for my license.
“Three smith-wicks, please,” I said to the round man. My heart beat against my chest, and my chilly fingers tingled. Please don’t ask for my license.
“Smith-wicks? We don’t serve that here,” he said with an Irish drawl and a goofy grin.
My face dropped, and my eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, sorry. Guinness then.”
“American?” he asked, grabbing a pint glass.
My shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, how do you know?”
“It’s smiticks, my love.” He put the pint glasses in front of us, and the dark stout settled.
