you’re able to admit that without clinging to Ivernis—that’s brave. And I’ll come. So you can just pretend you’re telling me, and I’m not going to judge or care, I’ll just want to hear what you know.”
“Really?”
“I promise.”
I wanted Ivernis to be real so badly. I wanted it for so many reasons and so many people, and I’d wanted it for so many years. I wanted to find Ivernis even more when the world or Ceile or my parents told me it was impossible.
But it was nice—it was wonderful—to have someone whose focus wasn’t tied up in the site, but that simply wanted me to be happy
So I leaned over and kissed him.
“Goal!”
The ball tumbled past the posts and made a dive for the hill beyond. Finn, the conscripted goalie, watched it with some regret and more disdain. I cheered and threw my arms around Anna, who let out a squeal that could have been at her perfect kick, but probably came as protest to my sweaty hug.
I jogged over to the sidelines, swapping out with Anka for the last three minutes of play, and scooped up my water bottle, chugging it down as the clock ran out. Twelve to seven, more than enough to make Mike scowl like a child when he joined me at the sides. “Don’t be such a baby,” I called, and then undermined that with, “Losers weepers!”
“You didn’t find anything!” he shot back.
I did a small victory jig. “I found a winning score.”
He reached out and pulled me toward him. “That’s what you call scoring?”
I wanted to kiss him until his eyes shut all the way. “You’re just trying to distract me because you’re a sore loser.”
“Just try me in
I pulled back and swished the rest of my water over him.
He let out a cry, even though I knew it had to feel nice after an afternoon of running. I grinned and darted backward as he reached for me, and then sprinted full force across the field.
Mike tackled me—of course he did—but twisted so he took the brunt of the fall and cushioned my body. The impact didn’t even deter him, because a second after, he rolled over and pinned me to the ground.
He blocked out the sky. All red and gold and laughter, and my scowl had no heat. “No fair.”
He braced his arms on the ground, keeping bare inches between our bodies. “Who said I was trying to play fair?”
“Um...” I kept getting distracted by the light in his eyes. “Fair is good.”
“Scoring’s better.”
If this started, it wasn’t going to end, and if I turned my head I could see Jeremy’s shoes. I hooked Mike’s ankle and bucked him off me.
He cracked a smile as he smacked into the grass. “Damn. You’re strong.”
“I know. That was mostly leverage, though.” I rolled off him and offered him a hand up. “I’m secretly a spy.”
Laughing and teasing, we trooped over to the pub, a hot mess of bodies and sweat that Finn looked relieved to not have to handle for once. Anna promptly sat down in his line of vision and started chatting with the other teenagers she’d befriended.
It had been good to have a day of activity that wasn’t just digging through nothing. For the past five days, we’d labored intensely for zero results. We dug. We sifted. We opened new units. The frown lines deepened around Jeremy’s mouth. Grace and Duncan looked more and more dissatisfied. And I felt guilty.
But the crew seemed happy, and a game of soccer let everyone feel better. I’d always thought of archaeology as the classic work hard and party harder—after seven hours in the field, all anyone wanted to do was kick around a ball or drink loads of beer. We’d nominally played crew against locals, but really it had been everyone athletic against Mike, in a sure move to make him lose. It had put everyone in a very good mood, and now the pub rang with laughter.
I looked around the room and realized I recognized half the people, and it made a different part of my heart ache, like when you get a good book cry. I liked people tapping me on the shoulder or shouting across the room to me or a bench being so full thighs touched. I liked belonging.
Across the room Maggie sat down next to Kate, and the two women nodded stiffly. I watched as they engaged in conversation over two large mugs.
“What does your mom do?”
Mike surreptitiously moved his potatoes onto my plate. “She’s an engineer for semi-conductor chips.”
I had not been expecting that answer. “What? Wow. How do you get into that?”
“I think she started off in the field when she was young and kept advancing.”
“Does she like it?”
He hesitated. “I’m not really sure. I think it was good enough, and she had three kids to support, and it paid well.”
“But she didn’t have to support them after you were drafted.”
He looked at me. “That’s what I thought.”
I shook my head, caught sight of Maggie, and regained my line of thought. “Wait. Sorry. I meant, what does she do
“
I rolled my eyes. “I just can’t help that you’re clueless.”
“Lauren and
“Totally not a thing. Forget I said anything.”
He looked around wildly, but Lauren was chatting with Anka and her husband, and Paul was nowhere to be seen. I took Mike’s hand and pulled on it for attention. “Focus. At dinner your mom always says that she met up with someone for lunch, and I know she goes into town twice a week for yoga and to talk to that woman at the art gallery. But that doesn’t seem like much.”
“How long has this been going on?”
I sighed. “Mike. You would make the worst spy in the world.”
“You say that like it’s an actual, serious failing. Where’s Paul?”
Because it totally was. “How did she meet your dad?”
He kept scanning the pub. “She worked at the hardware store his second-cousin owned in Southie.”
We were interrupted by a red-cheeked O’Malley, who really just wanted a second of Mike’s time to gloat, and he hadn’t even been on the field. “Not so good at football, now, O’Connor.”
Mike shook his head at the older man. “You come over to the States and try our version, and then see how well you do.”
“Don’t be sore about it. I’ll buy you a pint.” Grinning like a madmen, O’Malley went off.
I propped my chin on my hand. “See? All you have to do to get people to like you is lose.”
Mike shook his head. “No one in this village takes me seriously.”
“That’s because they’re just too used to you troublesome O’Connors. But at least they buy you beer.”
“There’s that.” His eyes tracked to the side. “One sec. I have to go punch Paul in the face.”
I rolled my eyes as he climbed out of his seat. “Play nice!”
When they came back, Mike looked satisfied, and Paul looked irritated, and no one looked too banged up. In fact, they both swung their arms.
“Done playing in the dirt, boys?”
Paul scowled. “Hardly fair when he’s a professional athlete.”
“Don’t whine. It’s unattractive.”
“Not really looking to pick you up, love.”
Mike draped his arm around me. “Not your love.”
I knocked my shoulder against him. “Smug’s not attractive, either.”
