The Geography of You and Me(33)

He squinted at her, but when he realized she was only joking, his face broke into a grin. “Or lunches,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he walked away.

Standing there alone in the hallway, she couldn’t help smiling. For the first time in her life, she realized there was no hope of blending in. Here, she was the one who was different. She was the one with the accent. The new girl. The object of curiosity. And to her surprise, she found she didn’t mind. Maybe this was why Owen had been so desperate to travel, why she’d longed for it herself without ever really knowing why. It wasn’t just that you got to be somewhere else entirely. It was that you got to be someone else entirely, too.

Now, as she made her way through the huddles of students—many of them flashing unnervingly friendly smiles in her direction—she saw him standing at her locker. Already, in such a short amount of time, this had become a habit of sorts. Later on her first day, just after fourth period, he’d found her wandering again, and this time he escorted her to class. When the bell rang at the end, she was surprised to once again find him waiting just outside the door.

“It would be an awful shame if you got lost and missed lunch,” he said with that blinding smile of his, and Lucy let herself be led to the dining hall. She waited for him to introduce himself, and when he didn’t, she finally stuck out her hand a little awkwardly.

“I’m Lucy, by the way,” she said, and his eyes danced with laughter as he regarded her outstretched hand.

“I know,” he said, taking it in his and giving it an exaggerated shake.

“How?”

“Everyone knows,” he said. “We don’t get a lot of new kids here. Especially not Yanks.”

“Oh,” she said, her cheeks hot. “And you are…?”

“Liam.”

In the cafeteria, he guided her through the lunch line, identifying the various trays of mush. “Neeps and tatties,” he said, picking up a spoon and piling some on her plate, and when she gave him a mystified look, he smiled. “Turnips and potatoes.”

She sat with him and his rugby friends, who peppered her with questions about New York. They wanted to know if she’d been to the top of the Empire State Building and if everyone in America had a swimming pool and whether she’d ever ridden in a yellow taxi. She felt like a visitor from some alien planet, but there was a warmth to their curiosity, a sense of genuine interest, and for once in her life, she didn’t seem to be wilting under such unwavering attention: instead, to her surprise, she was glowing.

Afterward, Liam walked her to her next class, and just like that, it became a routine. She was grateful for the company, and more flattered than she cared to admit, even to herself. She’d seen the way other girls looked at Liam, had heard the stories of some of the plays he’d made on the rugby pitch, had watched the effect his easy smile had on teachers and students alike. But still, each time she saw him there, waiting outside one of her classrooms, she felt a pang of guilt, too.

It was ridiculous; she knew this. In four days here, she’d already spent more time with Liam than she’d ever spent with Owen. He hardly even wrote anymore, and it wasn’t like they’d made any sort of promises to each other. So why did she feel like some small but essential part of her had been left behind in New York?

This morning, Liam was waiting at her locker again, but even as their eyes met and he lifted a hand, she couldn’t bring herself to wave. Instead, she felt around in her pocket for the postcard, tracing the edges, a portable reminder of Owen.

“I have an idea,” Liam said as soon as she was close enough. “Do you have plans this afternoon?”

Lucy shook her head.

“You probably haven’t gone up Arthur’s Seat yet, right?”

“Arthur’s what?”

“Seat,” he said, his eyes bright. “The hills just over there. It’s really famous, and there’s a great view up top. Want to go after school?”

Lucy glanced down at her loafers. “I’m not sure I’m dressed for a hike.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, flashing a grin. “It’s really more of a walk.”

After school, Liam led the way, through winding streets lined with little shops that sat beneath the hunched green hills, until the roads opened up into a sloping park, and they picked up a trail that went up, up, up as far as she could see.

It was, as advertised, mostly just a walk at first, and they talked about their families and their homes and their siblings.

“Will your brothers come visit, or will you go back and see them?” Liam asked. “Must be a bit odd, being so far apart. My brother moved to London last year, and the way my mum’s been acting, you’d think it was China.”

Lucy smiled, keeping her eyes trained on the gravely trail. “My cousin’s getting married in San Francisco over Christmas break, so we’ll all see each other then,” she told him. “But I bet they’ll come over here for the summer, too. They’d never miss a chance to do some traveling on my parents’ dime.”

“You mean 10p,” he said.

“Huh?”

He glanced back with a grin. “Ten pence. No dimes over here.”

It wasn’t long before the path grew steeper, and they were soon too winded to continue talking. Lucy’s lungs strained in the sea-heavy air, and her feet slipped on the dirt as the afternoon began to ease into evening.