Love & Luck(31)

I shut my eyes, letting Lina’s plan unfurl. I stay with Ian. Lina comes to me. Maybe our parents don’t find out. Maybe I still play soccer. Maybe I figure out a way to make Ian stop looking at me like I’m a burr hitchhiking on his sock. It was the best possible plan for the scenario.

“Are you sure?” I managed. “Flying to Ireland is not a small deal.”

“Flying to Ireland is not a huge deal, not when friendship is involved. And, Addie, it’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”

I wanted to tell her what this moment meant to me, but the words dammed up in my throat. She’d come through with a solution I hadn’t even considered. It made me feel bad about ever having doubted her.

“Thank you,” I finally managed between tears.

“You’re welcome. Sorry you don’t get to taste gelato, but at least we’ll be together. That’s the important part, right?”

“Right.” I opened my eyes to a brilliant swath of sunlight. A small pink bubble formed in my chest. Precarious, but hopeful all the same.



“No. Absolutely not.” That was all it took for Ian to snuff the spark in my chest. “This is my trip. Our trip. It’s once-in-a-lifetime. We’ve been planning this for months now.” Ian edged toward the car protectively. Rowan had managed to find a wire hanger in the trunk, and I’d used it to refasten the bumper.

“Which is why I’m in this position to begin with,” I snapped back. Every time a car went by, I felt like I was about to get sucked onto the road. “If you hadn’t messed with the original plan, then none of this would be happening.” My voice was high and whiny, but I didn’t care. His trip had cost me Italy. “Do you think I wanted to miss my flight?” Though the more I thought about Lina’s plan, the more it made sense. Our best chance of surviving this trip unscathed was to stick together.

“Ian, come on. . . . It does make a lot of sense. Don’t your chances of not getting caught go way down if you’re together?” Rowan asked, echoing my reasoning. I looked at him gratefully, but he was completely zoned in on my brother.

Ian kicked at the ground angrily. “Fine. Fine. But listen to me. This is my trip. No fighting. No Addie drama. No stuff about Cubby. Got it?”

“I do not want to talk about Cubby!” I yelled. “You are the one who keeps bringing him up.” A large truck whooshed by and blew my hair around my face.

“Whoa.” Rowan stepped between us, palms up in stop signs. “We need to establish something right away. I’m completely for this new plan, but I’m not spending the next few days trapped in the middle of whatever’s going on between you. If we do this, there has to be a truce. No fighting.”

To my surprise, Ian calmed almost immediately, his mouth turned down apologetically. “You’re right. Addie, I won’t talk about Cubby if you won’t.”

Really? It was that easy? “Okay,” I said warily.

“Okay?” Rowan’s eyes darted back and forth between us. “So . . . everyone’s good?”

“Good” was a little generous, but I managed a nod and so did Ian. It may have been a forced truce, but it was a truce. It would have to be enough.



We were fifteen minutes into the new plan, the road spooled out in front of us, everyone still slightly shell-shocked, when one aspect of my life suddenly became startlingly clear: I needed a restroom. Immediately.

I elbowed my way into the front of the car. “Rowan, could you please stop next chance you get? I really need a bathroom.”

Ian whirled around, his face tense. “But our next stop isn’t until Dingle.”

“How far is that?” I asked, looking down at his map. Dingle was a finger-shaped peninsula that reached out into the Pacific Ocean, a good hundred miles away. Definitely beyond the capacity of my bladder.

“Are you joking?” I ventured.

He set his mouth firmly. He wasn’t joking. “We have this trip all mapped out. The tailpipe and tractors have already put us way behind.”

“Ian, that’s crazy. The last time I had access to a bathroom, I thought I was going to Italy. Either you let me have a bathroom break or I pee on the back seat.”

He threw a hand up dismissively. “Great. Pee back there. It will be like the coffee can incident on the way to Disneyland.”

“Ian!” I growled. The coffee can incident may be a part of Bennett road trip lore, but that didn’t mean I had any interest in hearing about it all the time. Why couldn’t my brothers ever let anything go?

“What’s the coffee can incident?” Rowan asked, his eyes hinting at a smile.

“What do you think?” I snapped.

“You get the basic elements, right?” Ian said. “Road trip. Coffee can. Girl who—”

“Ian!” I threw my arms around the seat to cover his mouth. “Tell Rowan that story and I swear that I will never speak to you again.”

Ian’s laugh rumbled through my hands, and he pulled them off, but the mood already felt softer. At least the coffee can story was good for something.

“I actually need to put a call in to my mom, so a stop would work great for me. How about we stop in Limerick?” Rowan pointed to a sign. LIMERICK: 20 KM.

“Perfect,” I said gratefully. I could handle twenty kilometers.