I spy a fellow with a green top hat and suspenders
Take a photo with someone Irish
Red hair, don’t care (Kenneth, you cannot take a selfie)
See green beer, chug green beer
What’s an Irishman’s favorite cereal?
Would it kill ya to find a kilt?
Find a pot of gold
Chapter Twenty-One
I’m going to dosomething stupid tonight.
Scratch that. It may be simultaneously the smartest and dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I’m going to tell Mallory how I feel.
Even if my feelings aren’t reciprocated, being friends would be more than I ever thought I’d have with her. I can and will sit on this crush for however long I have to.
Forever if necessary.
Part of me thinks there’s a chance she may feel the same way. It doesn’t feel logical or realistic, but living delusionally hasn’t failed me yet.
The gas station on the corner checks off number one, and I send the photo of me in front of the walk-in cooler filled with Guinness beer to Cade as proof. The reason Mallory and I are always winner and runner up is because we don’t hang back after the game begins. We strategize on the move.
When we make it to Eastgate Bar District, it’s as if the sun never set on this sliver of town. Lights from bars and clubs brighten the sidewalks, which are filled with people in varying shades of green.
