“How’s your cute Irish boyfriend doing out there?” I ask her as we follow Sadie back down the narrow hallway into the pub; it seems like it got louder while we were in there, more people crammed into the tiny space.
Imogen grins. “The cutest,” she says. “He’s great, right?”
“He’s really great,” I promise, although an hour of shouted conversation in a roiling bar doesn’t actually seem like enough information to go on. But he’s ass over teakettle for her, that much is obvious, and I like the air of mischief about him, his easy grin. “Have you guys talked about what you’re going to do after you go back to RISD?” I ask. “School’s gotta be starting for you soon too, right?”
Imogen hesitates then, her thick, dark eyebrows quirking a bit like they always do when she’s about to share a secret. “So here’s the thing,” she begins. “This is what I was starting to tell you yesterday, but it’s been so crazy with everybodyaround it never seemed like the right time to do it.” She’s stopped in the middle of the hallway, leaning against the dark wood wainscoting and crossing her ankles. “I’m thinking about staying.”
I blink at her. “Staying where?”
“Staying here,” she says, like it ought to be obvious. “In Kerry.”
“Wait, what?” My chin drops. “Really? For how long?”
“I think indefinitely.” She smiles a mysterious, catlike smile. “Seamus wants us to get a place.”
I laugh out loud, a tickled sleepover-party giggle, in the second before I realize Imogen isn’t kidding around. “Wait,” I say again, “what?” It’s like the floor has tipped underneath me, like an earthquake just cleaved the floor in half and I’m the only one who felt it. “You’re serious? You’re going tomovehere?”
“Why not, right?” Imogen’s grinning for real now. “YOLO, et cetera.”
“I mean, school, to start with,” I say stupidly. “You kind of have to finish it, don’t you?” I shake my head, baffled. “I mean—oh, Imogen,no.”
Her smile pales. “What do you mean, Imogen no?”
“I just—” I break off, my wits dulled by the shock and the noise and the alcohol, at a loss for how to best communicate the obvious terribleness of this plan. “What are you going to do, drop out of school and be a mechanic too?”
Imogen’s whole face goes cold then, snapping closed likethe storm shutters on the cottage to keep out bad weather. “Wow,” she says, her tone clipped. “Okay then.”
“I’m sorry,” I say immediately, shaking my head. “That was super bitchy. I didn’t mean there’s anything wrong with—”
“You just said you liked Seamus!”
“I do like Seamus!” I protest. It’s like we’re doing some kind of farcical European comedy routine, all slamming doors and misunderstandings. “Seamus seems lovely! It’s just that I met him like twenty minutes ago, and you met him like twenty minutes beforethat, so—”
“Sowhat?” Imogen interrupts.
“So I just think maybe you should think about it for a little while longer before you throw your whole life a—”
“I’m not throwing my life away, Molly!” She rolls her eyes. “You sound like someone’s grandma when you say that, first of all. On top of which, how do you know I haven’t thought about it?”
“Because—” I break off, baffled. It’s like I’m drowning, like I can’t get enough air to put a coherent thought together. “Well, you definitely haven’tsaidanything” is the best I can come up with. “I’ve been here two full days, Imogen. Like, if you’re honestly thinking about moving across the Atlantic Ocean forever, I wish you’d thought to mention it before now.”
“Seriously?” Imogen makes a face. “You’ve got so much going on I don’t even know when I would have had the chance.”
My back prickles with unpleasant recognition. “What doesthatmean?”
“Come on, Molly. We’re literally in Europe, we are three thousand miles away from Star Lake, and yet somehow your Donnelly drama has managed to creep all the way to my house in Ireland.”
“That’s not true!” My jaw drops at the unfairness of it. “If you didn’t want them here, you should have said something,” I defend myself. “And Gabe and I have barely even talked the whole time we’ve been here.”
“Which is weird!” Imogen points out. “This whole situation isso weird! And you want to act like it isn’t, and I’ve been taking your lead on that because I’m a good friend and I know you and Gabe have unfinished business or whatever, but seriously. Who invites their ex-boyfriend on vacation with her and her new boyfriend? Especially when he totally dropped off the face of the planet after you broke up, andespeciallywhen he doesn’t even know—”
“I’m not even the one who invited them!” I interrupt.
“It’s me, Molly,” Imogen says, more gently. “And you know as well as I do that there is no way that boy would have tagged along unless the both of you not so secretly wanted him to.”
My whole body goes hot and sick-feeling, cornered and caught-out. I’ve been careful to think of this whole outlandish situation as mostly out of my control—a series of bizarre, unlikely events I was powerless to stop or alter. I toldmyself what was happening here was one giant, exaggerated kuddelmuddel, but of course that isn’t actually true. Now that Imogen has named it out loud it seems undeniable, but I try anyway: “First of all,” I begin clumsily, “that’s not—”
“I don’t actually care, Molly!” Imogen cuts me off. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m saying I’ve been patient because I love you and I know you have a lot going on, but now I’m asking you to let this conversation be about me for once.”
