Page 90 of Go Luck Yourself
His back to me, he nods his thanks to Colm, dismissing him.
I give Colm a smile as he passes. Loch said he’s here on his own, since Malachy stopped paying his wages. If Dad had done that to us, would Wren have stayed with Coal and me?
Colm leaves, and I face Loch. “Where is the event today?”Whatis the event today, I almost ask.
“It’s down in our wee village here,” Siobhán says. “Not a long drive. We volunteer at it every year, a music festival. Anddancing,eh, Lochy?”
He gives her an unamused smirk. “Oh yeah, I’m breaking back out my reel shoes, did na I tell you? Headlining today.”
“Reel shoes?”
Loch almost looks at me. Catches himself, his jaw bulging.
Okay, I don’t like this.
He walks out of the castle without another word, the bright light of morning wrapping him up.
Finn follows.
Siobhán rolls her eyes in a huge arch. “What’d I tell ya? He’s a stubborn prick.”
My confusion doesn’t abate. “Huh?”
“He’s ashamed you had to make a statement about the race at all. Does na know how to function when anyone helps him. He treatsFinn and me the same when we do anything even a bit nice for him.” She hooks her arm through mine. “Stubborn. Prick.”
Is that the reason? That can’t be it. “Is he really dancing today?”
We walk out to see Loch and Finn already loaded up in the car, Loch driving this time, Finn next to him.
I intentionally ignore the way my stomach sinks with disappointment.
“Ha! No, he has na danced in years,” Siobhán says. “We all used to, though.”
We slide into the car and she pats his shoulder in front of her.
“But Lochy was the best dancer, weren’t you?”
He starts the car. “That wall of trophies in my room did na win themselves.”
Siobhán leans into me. “He’s lying. He was fucking awful.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Finn jeers. “Nearly breaking your ankle every performance.”
“At least Mam and Da dinna have tobegme to stop.”
“Dancing is part of our heritage,” Loch mumbles to the windshield. “I wanted to be good at it.”
“Stick to painting, lovey.” Siobhán pats his shoulder again. “Oh! A few of your paintings will be down in the village, eh? That’ll make a good setup for you two and your whole press nonsense. You’ll show Kris your art, yeah?”
My eyes go to the side of Loch’s head.
I know he knows I’m looking at him. His hand flexes on the steering wheel as he pulls us out of the castle’s drive.
“He’s already seen my art,” Loch says. Definitively.
“I’d like to see more of it.” My voice comes out softer than I mean it to.
Loch’s eyes dip to the side. He refocuses on the road and doesn’t say anything.
