Page 5 of The Rebound
“Apologies about Ava.”
I push Tyler from my mind, focusing on the here and now. “The charming girl at the depot?”
Luke grimaces. “I think she was having a bad day.”
I think she has a giant crush on you. “Is she a friend of yours?”
“An old student. She graduated a while back.”
I glance over in surprise. “You’re a teacher?”
“A coach. I volunteer with the girls’ under-seventeen football team in my spare time.”
“Oh yeah? How are you guys doing this year?”
“Terribly,” he says with a self-deprecating grin. “But it’s the taking part that counts.”
“I’m sure.”
My hands now thawed thanks to the heating, I try my phone again, only to find it officially dead. I stare at it for a second, angling the screen to try and see my reflection but it’s too dark in the car. Then again, knowing how I looked the last time I saw it, I don’t think I even want to check. I hadn’t given much thought to my appearance when I boarded the plane at JFK. But now I wish I’d at least brought a comb.
“Do you need to call someone?” Luke asks.
“It’s okay. My sister’s going to be mad but she’s always mad. I’m hoping she’ll go easy after the day I’ve had.”
“How long have you been traveling?”
“About fourteen hours. I know,” I add at his glance. “I think I’m growing delirious.”
“A good night’s sleep and you’ll be grand.”
I hum in semi-agreement, straightening as we pass the entrance to the local forest. We can’t be more than ten minutes from the village.
It’ll be my first time back in years. Five of them, to be exact, and before that it was only ever brief visits, a few days at Christmas spent working from the back room where the Wi-Fi signal is best. When my salary went up, I started flying my parents out to New York, but the furthest Louise ever traveled to see me was Dublin, when I’d schedule in brief layovers that always ended in the two of us arguing over lunch before stiffly exchanging birthday cards or early holiday gifts.
Clonard itself has never been somewhere I’ve missed. Has never been anything other than the place where I happened to grow up. But still. I suppose I should feelsomething. Some sentimental tug of the heartstrings, some unexpected well of emotion, even if it is misplaced. Instead, all I feel is an increasing dread.
“Is this a bad time to tell you I also charge eighty-five euro?”
I turn to Luke in alarm as he snaps me from my self-pity.
“Plus tip,” he adds, sounding so serious that I believe him for a whole other second before I catch his smile.
Mother of— “You’re an asshole.”
“College isn’t cheap.”
“It’s not.” I sit back, playing along. “Would you settle for the ten dollars I have in my pocket?”
“With this exchange rate? You got anything from duty-free?”
“I took some of those little bottles of alcohol from the plane.”
“Throw in one of those travel pillows they give you and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
He winks at me and I feel a rush of gratitude. It’s the first time in weeks someone’s tried to cheer me up in a way that didn’t involve drugs or a pyramid scheme.
“Seriously though,” I say. “At least let me help with gas money.”
