Seven Nights in Ireland

As the night wore on I saw Finn less often. I got the feeling that she was trying to avoid me, which wouldn’t surprise me at this point. I was drunk, and probably creeping her out; I was staring at her a lot, but I really couldn’t help but to look at her.

When the guys and I stumbled out of the pub and finally made our way to the hotel room—getting lost quite a few times along the way—we all passed out in our rooms. Tom and I shared a room, like always, because aside from being my brother, Tom was my best mate. A lot of people assume that we fight like an old married couple because we’re together all the time, and we have been since he was born; it’s not like that with us. I genuinely like the person that Tom has become, and he understands me like most people don’t. My mum and dad always thought it was odd that Tom never made his own friends, just hung around with me and mine, but he’s always been a little mature for his age so he fit in with us.

I lay down in my bed and glanced over at Tom’s bed; he was laying flat on his face, one hand hanging off of the side of the bed. He was already snoring loudly, so I turned over on my side, pulled the duvet over my head, and let myself drift into sleep.

The next morning when I woke up, Tom was already gone. His clothes from last night were laying on his bed and the bathroom door was open, so I came to the conclusion he was already in someone else’s room hanging out since I was still sleeping. I shed my clothes and glanced at the clock, and hopped into the bathroom to take a quick shower.

My wet hair clung to my face as I shook the water away and dried myself off with the thick, white towel that hung on the rack. I found my way back into the room and slipped my boxers on, and then found a pair of gym shorts and a short sleeved t-shirt to wear before grabbing my mobile and heading out the door to go across the hall to Matt and Vegan’s room. Sure enough, everyone was in there, lounging around talking.

“What’s on the agenda today, mate?” Vegan asked as I entered the room.

I shrugged my shoulders and flopped down on Matt’s bed, running my fingers through my hair to get it out of my eyes. “We need to call Sheep.”

Sheep was our tour manager, who always had all the answers. He kept our schedule, and let us know when we had free time; I assumed since he hadn’t left me fifteen voicemails already, we didn’t have anything planned for that day.

“I’m on it.” Lee announced, pressing his mobile to his ear and stepping out into the hallway.

“So the bird last night,” Jona piped up, clearing his throat. “You didn’t get her number, did you?”

I shook my head, though he couldn’t see me from his spot on the floor. “Nah, man. She wasn’t worth my time.” I lied.

Tom laughed. “It sure seemed like she was when you were staring at her like a right creeper.”

“I thought she might be.” I lied more. “But I didn’t think she was fit enough to go through the trouble. She was a proper bitch, too.”

She did seem a little bitchy to me, but I don’t think she was genuinely a bitch. I didn’t want Tom, or any of the others, to know that I actually wanted her and she’d turned me down. That would have given them something to use against me any time they needed a jab at me. Now all they can say is that I could have any girl I want. If they knew this, they’d have grounds to make fun of me. And that’s something I didn’t deal with very well.

“Oli, that bird was mint. How can you say she wasn’t ‘fit enough’?” Matt asked as Lee came back into the room. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me on the bed. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know, man.” I said, wriggling away from his hands and sitting up, letting my legs dangle off the end of the bed. “Wasn’t feeling it, I guess.”

Lee spoke up, thankfully, and closed the door behind him. “Sheep said we’re clear for today. He just advises us not to stay out too late tonight because we have a CD signing tomorrow morning at nine.”

Jona clapped his hands together once, loudly, and stood up. “Great then, wanna’ go have a look around?”

Everyone agreed to go sightseeing, including myself, so I went and dressed more appropriately for the weather. My shorts were replaced by a pair of jeans, and then I wore a pullover over my t-shirt. While we walked the streets of Galway, I glanced anxiously at the faces of every dark-haired bird we passed. I don’t know what for, though; it’s not like if I saw her I would be able to say anything to her anyway. We stopped inside a few shops, but I didn’t really look at anything like everyone else did. I casually walked around and pretended to be interested in stuff, laughed along with the guys, and even made friends with a few fit birds we saw inside and got their numbers. But all the while I pretended that I was getting Finn’s number. I pretended it was Finn standing there, throwing herself at me.

“There’s just something about Irish girls.” Lee sighed as we made our way back to our hotel. The day was winding down now; it was almost seven o’clock in the evening, and I thought about ditching the guys to go back to the pub, where I was almost positive Finn would be.

We got back to the hotel and everyone went to their rooms to call it an early night; except Tom and I, who stayed up watching TV. At almost one in the morning, Tom fell asleep and began snoring softly; I wasn’t tired, though, so I decided to go with my previous plan—go to the pub and see if Finn was there.

The pub was exactly how it was the night before—old, drafty, and completely awful-smelling. Although I didn’t notice the smell the night before, it could have had something to do with the amount of alcohol that was in my system. I sat firmly on one of the barstools, my eyes scanning the room thoroughly, and my fingers drumming on the bar subconsciously.

“Can I get you anything, mate?” A short stocky man asked, throwing a white dishtowel over his shoulder.

I looked at him for a moment before answering. “Can I get a Red Stripe?”

He nodded and went on his way, before arriving seconds later with the tall can. “There ya’ are.”

“Cheers.” I nodded, pulling the tab on top of the can and opening it with a loud crack. “Hey,” I stopped him before he’d completely run off. “Do you happen to know if Finn is here?”

“Finley?” He nodded, glancing around me to see the whole pub. “Yeah, she’s around here somewhere.”

I thanked him again, and he wandered off, but I still didn’t see Finn anywhere for a few minutes; I debated on walking back to the Hotel, but I finally saw her: she came out of the loo, adjusting her apron around her waist.

Bingo, I thought, smiling a little. I turned myself back around to face the bar, my head lowered as I sipped on my beer. I kept stealing glances at her while she got drink orders and mixed them, and every so often I would see her dark green eyes dart over to mine; to which I quickly looked down at my beer. After about an hour of sitting there, drinking the same beer, she finally approached me. Though I would normally be happy that she came over to me, she didn’t look pleasant.

“So’r you stalking me or something?” She asked, narrowing her eyebrows. “Or are you a barfly that hangs out at the bar every night?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I said nonchalantly, pretending that I didn’t care that she was speaking to me. I was good at using reverse psychology, but I wasn’t certain that she would fall for it.

“Normally, no. I wouldn’t like to know.” She smiled a little, but then pointed at my beer. “Another?”

I nodded a little, stunned. “Cheers.” What did that mean? ”Normally, no.” Did that mean that she was interested?

When she returned with my beer, she didn’t leave—like I’d expected her to. “So what brings you to Galway?”

I didn’t know what to say. I was literally speechless in her presence. I’d planned on playing it cool, but now that she was actually speaking to me I couldn’t make my brain produce a sentence. “I—I’m in a—band.”

“And you have a stutter?” She sounded like she was trying to be harsh, hurt my feelings or something, but she was smiling when she said it. Truthfully, it embarrassed me.

“Not normally.” I admitted, cracking open my second beer and sliding my empty can to her. “We’re touring.” I continued.

She nodded, uninterested. “Cool. Where’re you from?”

I rolled my eyes a little, not enough so that she could tell. I got that question all the time, as if it wasn’t obvious enough where I was from. “England.”

“Obviously.” She jabbed. “I meant where at in England.”

“Sheffield.” I added quickly. “Where’re you from?”

“Ireland.” She mocked, walking slowly away. “See you around.”

And like that she was gone again, ushering a group of birds to a booth in the back of the pub. I watched her write each drink order down on her notepad, and soon enough she was back behind the bar. She tossed her notepad down in front of her and began making a bunch of mixed drinks, and setting them down on a tray when they were finished.

After two more hours of sitting, I’d finished two more beers. I had planned on not drinking any at all, but I soon realized that I would look like a right tosser sitting alone in a bar, not drinking anything. As if I didn’t already look like a wanker. Three A.M. rolled around a lot sooner than I’d hoped—I’d begun to like watching her work. It kinda’ turned me on, the way she knew each drink by heart and could make it in ten seconds flat.

She approached me again, untying her apron and tossing it onto the bar. “You have to leave now. We’re closing.”

I nodded and passed my last empty beer can to her, before scooting myself off of the barstool. She rounded the end of the bar, and I stopped her. “Can I walk you home?”

She looked at me, unimpressed by my chivalry.

“I mean—“ I added quickly. “It can’t be too safe, you walking home this late by yourself.”

One corner of her mouth turned up into a half-smile. “I do it every night, why’s tonight any different? I’m perfectly capable of walking myself home.”

“I’m not doubting your capability.” I smiled. “But a gorgeous gal like yourself, walking alone at—“ I glanced at a clock hanging on the wall. “—half past three doesn’t sound too safe. Lemme’ walk you home.”

“So you’re demanding that I let you walk me home?” She raised her eyebrows, a half-smile still on her lips as she looked up at me. “I think you’re the only one I should be worried about, love. It’s guys like you that would bother me on my way home.”

“I’m not demanding anything.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, staring down at my feet. I couldn’t believe I was about to say this: “I’m begging you. Let me walk you home.”

She rolled her eyes. “No. But you can walk me to work.”

I stared at her for a moment, confused, but she simply gestured towards the door and let me follow her out of the pub. “Work?” I asked finally, after we’d walked in silence for about a minute.

“I’m a nurse at St. George’s Heart Institute from four to eleven.” She said, her short legs taking two steps to measure up to one of mine. “Being a barmaid is only to help out a mate.”

I looked at her skeptically; she didn’t look like the “nurse” type. In the pornos, the nurses are all really slutty and hot. But in real life, I’d always known nurses to be old, fat, and grumpy. “You’re a nurse?”

“What, do you think I’m lying?” She asked, pulling a sparkly bracelet off of her wrist and dropping it into the abyss of her black satchel that hung across her small frame. “Feel free to check my credentials. “

I didn’t say anything back, slightly taken aback by her straightforwardness. This was the first time a bird had ever intimidated me to this level. Somehow, though, I got the feeling that she was just playing hard-to-get.

“So,” I spoke up eventually. I’d decided to get on my A-game. “When you get off of work, Nurse Finley,” I used the name that the bartender used, hoping to strike a nerve, “would you like to join me for lunch?”

She sneered at the mention of the name Finley, looking away from me, into the street. “Who told you to call me that?”

“The guy at the bar.” I said, innocently. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s my real name.” She stated, as if I’d asked. “I don’t like people to call me that.”

“Why?” I questioned, my tone taking on that of a five-year-old that asked way too many questions. “It’s much more feminine than Finn.”

“I don’t care.” She snapped quickly. “I don’t like it. And no, I will not join you for lunch.”

“Fine,” I sighed, running a hand through my unruly hair. I hadn’t done anything to it when I got out of the shower earlier that day, and suddenly I felt like an idiot for looking like a homeless man; I quickly patted my hair down when I realized this.

“So are you just going to stand here all night, or are you going to stand out here until I get off of work?”She asked suddenly.

I glanced up, noticing that we were standing under a big green awning with the words “ST. GEORGE’S HOSPITAL” illuminating the sidewalk. “Oh,” I said, sounding a little more disappointed than I’d hoped. “Well I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Maybe.” She called over her shoulder as she walked through the automatic doors, not even glancing back as she got on the elevator and left.