“Rory, he’s Irish. Think of all the benefits,” Zoey said. “He knows the country, the language, culture, and hot spots. We are living with our own personal tour guide. We are so lucky.”
I pulled my hood over my head to protect my hair from the chilly sprinkles falling from the gray clouds. “Yeah, great,” I grumbled. “Wanna trade rooms?”
“He’s not that bad. He’ll protect us if anything happens.”
I turned toward her. “What? He barely even knows us. Why would he protect us?”
“Because that’s what roommates do. It’s like siblings. They always have your back.”
“Not in my experience.” I thought back to my freshman year. “My old roommate, Emma, had my back until she saw me using her textbook without asking. After that, it was like she was living with a monster. She said she could never trust me again, and every movement I made, she watched me like a hawk.”
Zoey half-smiled. “Don’t worry. You can look at my textbooks any time you want.”
“I’m just saying.” My hands gestured wildly in front of my face. “Don’t make assumptions. He could be a serial killer.”
“We know him just as much as we know each other. Do you trust me?”
I paused, contemplating her question. “Of course.”
“Why? What makes me different?”
“First impressions. When we first met, you smiled. I first met him on the airplane, he dumped my soda all over me, and invaded my personal space for six hours. It was not the experience I imagined when I had dreamed about flying to Ireland.” I stuffed my hands in my raincoat pockets and squeezed a balled-up tissue.
“Well, people change. Maybe he acted that way because he didn’t think he’d see you again.”
“Small world, huh?”
“Where’s he now? I didn’t see him this morning.”
“Who knows? He told me he wouldn’t be around much because his old roommates live in our building.”
“That could be a bonus.” Zoey stopped at the entrance to the college. “Time.”
I looked at my watch and pulled out my notebook, scribbling a note of the time as I said, “It took us exactly twenty-four minutes in the rain, which probably slowed us down. If we give ourselves a half hour, we’ll get to class with time to spare.”
The beautiful campus sparkled with pink, purple, and blue flowers that popped happiness against the drab background. I took my rain boots and socks off and walked barefoot through the lush grass, dripping with water. The chilly drops sent electric shocks up my legs, and Zoey looked at me like I had gone crazy.
“What?” I asked. “Haven’t you ever danced in the rain?”
She swung her bag to her other shoulder. “Not shoeless.”
“Come on, Zoey,” I teased. “It’s Ireland. Feel that Irish grass. Feel the history seep up from the earth into you. It’s electrifying. Become one with the country.”
She sighed, looked around, and dropped her bag on a patch of dry concrete.
“No one cares, Zoey. No one is paying any attention to us.” I saw her glance to her left and right, before returning her gaze to me.
“Fine.” She slid out of her sopping wet flip-flops and stepped onto the cool ground.
Overcome with the moment, I ran and pranced down the long green. Occasional pirouettes, leaps, and spins speckled my choreography.
“Zoey, come dance with me!”
I heard her giggle, but I didn’t stop. Spinning three times with my arms outstretched and my head tilted toward the sky, I caught a rainbow breaking through the gray clouds. “Zoey, look!” I yelled into the sky and my toes slipped on a patch of wet grass. I hadn’t done a split since I was eight, yet somehow my body found its way back to that position.
“Oof!” I exhaled. The sound of ripped fabric brought me abruptly back to reality and I quickly touched my rear to assess the damage. My finger escaped through a hole about two inches long and my neck and ears became impossibly hot.
“Rory?” I heard a deep, familiar Irish voice. Oh no.
