Page 12 of The Token Yank

Heath and Louisa went back to their rooms, and Rafe stopped being drunk for a second and realized he was in Eamonn’s room, inches from Eamonn’s messybed.

“Yourroom…”

“Looks just like your room,” Eamonnsaid.

“…it has character.” Band and soccer posters were thumbtacked to the walls. Books piled on his desk. “When did y’all movein?”

“Y’all?” Eamonn had a short burst of laughter. “Two daysago.”

“It’s funny when you say y’all in your accent. It makes it sound soserious.”

Rafe wasn’t sure what he was doing. Even though he knew nothing would happen, because Eamonn was most likely straight and Rafe just wasn’t that lucky, he didn’t want to go. He wanted to keep breathing the same air as this charmingBrit.

“I love British music.” Rafe studied the posters. There was one for this band Bloc Party, and one for the Rolling Stones. “Where’s your Beatles poster? You can’t call yourself a true Brit withoutone.”

He seesawed his head. “The Beatles arerubbish.”

Rafe looked around to make sure the British police weren’t going to bust in and arrest Eamonn right then and there. “You hate TheBeatles?”

Eamonn nodded. Even his nodding washot.

Rafe didn’t know much about music, but this was like somebody telling him that continental drift never happened. “ButHey Jude…and other songs besidesHeyJude.”

His mind went blank at the worst moments. This was why Rafe would never go onJeopardy!

“My dad took off a few years ago to play in a Beatles cover band. He had to follow the music, he said. I think he’s in Helsinki this month. We get postcards from him, but that’s pretty much it. The Beatles were like my family’s Yoko Ono.” Eamonn’s eyes darkened for a split-second, then he shook it off. “Sorry about that, mate. Not sure why I blurted thatout.”

Rafe didn’t mind. He thought it was nice to be let in for a moment. “I’m sorry your dad ruinedHey Judeforyou.”

Silence crackled in the room, though maybe it was all in Rafe’s head. He wasn’t good in these moments, but he wasn’t going to make an ass out of himself and throw himself at a straight guy on his first night in a new country. He wasn’t born gayyesterday.

“I’m completely knackered. I’m going to turn in,” Eamonnsaid.

Rafe stood there, not sure if that was a statement of fact or an invitation. This was a day of firsts. First time out of the country. First time at a bar. And now first time in a boy’s room possibly being invited into the boy’sbed.

“Sounds g—“ Rafe began to sit on hisbed.

“Let’s get you back to yourroom.”

“Yep.” And he was back tostanding.

Eamonn put a firm hand on Rafe’s lower back, which was a nice consolation prize. He walked Rafe across the hall to hisroom.

“I like what you’ve done with theplace.”

“I just got here!” Rafe plopped down on his desk chair. “You know, you guys are verysarcastic.”

“Are wenow?”

“I think y’all are just bitter about losing thewar.”

“The RevolutionaryWar?”

“Yes. You once ruled the world. Then we put a stop to it. And now we rule theworld.”

“And what a good job you Americans are doing. All those Big Macs and massshootings.”

“I don’t even like McDonald’s!” Rafe rolled his head back to gaze at the ceiling. “Well, I like their fries. Their fries are good. And I like their burgers. Just the regular cheeseburger. The Big Mac is too much. Too, too much. What were we talkingabout?”

Rafe blinked his eyes, and his bed was all made. The pillows in pillowcases, the sheets stretched out on the mattress, the duvet inside the duvetcover.

Eamonn stood over the finished product. He gave Rafe a squinty smile that he was sure to dream about. “Sweet dreams,Yank.”