the total lack of Raphael echoing through every square inch of my open-plan house, my no-name town, my ruined and empty life.
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iâd thought about raphael a lot On the flight. When I was feeling nervous during takeoff, I thought, Maybe weâll crash and Iâll die and heâll be sorry. I tried to imagine him sobbing with remorse at my funeral, but I couldnât, really.
And when we were up in the sky, high above the ocean, the passengers were watching the movie and the cheerful Aer Lingus flight attendants were taking a break from their constant offers of weird snacks (Black-and-white pudding? Lemon curd muffins? Good thing they had Pringles or I would have starved.), the plane was quiet, and I closed my eyes and got sleepy. Thatâs when I remembered some nice things about Raphael. He was a good kisser, thatâs for sure.
Is. Raphael is a good kisser. He just wonât be kissing me. Ever. Again.
âStep in, then, bonnie Morgan!â Colin had tossed my suitcase in the back of the van and was already behind the wheel. âNo, lass, sit up front with me! I donât want to feel like the bloody driver, then, do I? Weâre going to be friends in a minute and youâd be embarrassed to be all alone back there shouting up to your old pal Colin.â
I climbed into the front and slammed the passenger side door. Right away I noticed the seat belt was broken. Mom had me well trained. Colin noticed me noticing.
âShould get that fixed, eh? Donât worry, lass, Iâve been drivinâ since I was a boy-o. You mind if I smoke, Mor? Weâll leave the windows open; Iâm like a dog that way anyhow. I like to feel the air on my face.â
Since when did anyone call me Mor? Colin was acting like we were lifelong chums, and the only words Iâd spoken to him so far were, âIt has wheels.â Maybe that was sufficient basis for friendship in this part of the world. Maybe he was just a freak. One thing was for sure: There was no need to expend energy listening for what Colin was really thinking, because it spilled out of his mouth nonstop.
I rolled my window down halfway and looked over at him, careful not to smile. He grinned and clucked his tongue, which made the already-lit cigarette twitch in his mouth, and he revved the engine of the van. It sounded like a fleet of decrepit helicopters struggling to take off in the midst of a swarm of furious bees.
âGotta get that fixed, eh?â And we were off.
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i snuck glances Of colin driving as We made Our way toward our destinationâsomeplace north of Limerick I think. Heâd told me and showed me a map but I was not interested in maps. The scenery outside was pleasant, and we were driving on the wrong side of the road, which offered a kind of thrill, but I usually find people more interesting than scenery, and okay-looking young guys more interesting than regular people. So I checked out Colin. Discreetly, of course.
Colin was not any older than twenty-two, I guessed, and athletically built, with thick, lightly freckled arms. When he moved his foot from the gas to the brake, his thigh flexed and I could see an edge of muscle moving beneath the fabric of his thin khaki pants. He was baby-faced in a way that might make you think he was pudgy, but there was not one millimeter of tummy rolling over the waistband of Colinâs pants.
If a guy has a flat stomach sitting down, those are buff abs indeed.
Not that I was planning on scoring a look at Colinâs abs. It just made me think of Raph again. Raphael was very proud of his abs and even kept track of his monthly crunch totals, but when he sat down there was about a half-inch of roll he could never get rid of. God help you if you noticed it too.
So Colin scored points in the bod department. Unfortunately his hair color could only be described as strawberry frikkinâ blond. It looked fine on him, but still. I found it annoying.
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