“Just until mid-December.” He thought about getting that tattooed on hisforehead.
Eamonn nodded exaggeratedly, like there was something funny about that. “I can’t believe we have a fucking American in ourflat.”
“I’m excited to be here.”Right here. Looking at you and your wondrous body and listening to your sexy accent.“I’ve never been out of thecountry.”
“Well, we should welcome you proper then. What are you up totonight?”
“I, um…” Rafe considered making something up because he didn’t want to seem like a loser who stayed in, but he didn’t want to miss an opportunity. “Nothing.”
“Then it’s off to Apothecary. Though you might want to changefirst.”
Eamonn
Another year, another bloody night at Apothecary. Eamonn had spent way too much of his time at uni in this pub, but since Stroude was nestled in a town where everything closed at five p.m., he had few options. His new American friend, though, gazed at the pub as if it were a holytemple.
“You have bars? On campus?” Rafe asked him in wide-eyed wonder. Eamonn got a kick out of his accent. He’d never heard one upclose.
“Yeah. Youdon’t?”
“The drinking age in the U.S. is twenty-one. There was a bar off campus that was known for letting underclassmen in, but of course like all good things, it was shutdown.”
“That’s naff.” Eamonn couldn’t imagine waiting that long to go to a pub. Hell, he’d been sneaking into them since he wasfourteen.
Apothecary was built during the pre-Y2K frenzy and hadn’t been updated. It was a bit ritzy with white, sleek, futuristic interior designs and green lights around the curved bar. It made Eamonn think of a spaceship. Eamonn breathed in the familiar musty smell ofalcohol.
He walked through the crowd to a booth in the corner. Heath and Louisa sat across from each other and gave him a bigwelcome.
“It’s about time!” Louisa had pitch black hair against pale white skin, and a trail of freckles crossed her nose and cheeks. “Who’s yourmate?”
“This is the fourth member of our flat, Rafe. He’s our tokenYank.”
Rafe turned red at the name and wavedhello.
“Hiya. I’mLouisa.”
“Hiya, mate. I’mHeath.”
“Hi! I mean,hiya!”
Eamonn found that hilarious, though he wasn’t sure why. The guy was as bouncy as his damnhair.
“Louisa, I broke your glass serving bowl. It’s not my fault! Your pots and pans and bowls are all balanced on each other like a cuntfaced circusact.”
“I loved thatbowl!”
“It loved you, too.” Eamonn directed Rafe to sit next to Louisa. “Grab a seat. I’ll get the nextround.”
Louisa scooted down her booth and made room forRafe.
“Another snakebite for Heath. Another Midori sour for Miss Louisa. And what’ll you have?” Eamonnasked.
“What’s a Midori Sour?” Rafeasked.
“Oh, this is Rafe’s first time at a bar,” Eamonn told his friends. “Apparently in America, the legal drinking age is thirty-seven.”
“Twenty-one!” Rafesaid.
“Actually, there’s an agreement between the U.S. and the U.K. not to allow Americans under twenty-one to drink while abroad,” Heath said. “The bartender will ask to see yourpassport.”
