Page 48 of The Token Yank

Awkward silence hit the table. This was far from typical Heath sarcasm. There was a noticeable chill in his voice that shut Louisa up well. The not-so-gentle giant took a gulp of hisbeer.

“Don’t mind, Heath,” Louisa said to Rafe for the whole table to hear. “He acts like a baby when he doesn’t get hisway.”

“Only Louisa gets to have her way and fuck all to everyone else,” hemuttered.

Louisa got up so quickly that their glasses shook. She joined a group of girls she knew standing around a high toptable.

“Mate,” Eamonnsaid.

Heath raised his hands, not wanting a word of it. “I’m tired of her bloody games. I’m serious thistime.”

A little bit later, Rafe went up to the bar to get the next round of drinks. As he waited, he heard the distinct sounds of an American accent. He was almost nostalgic forit.

“I can barely understand anyone here, Mom. These accents are so thick,” a girl with wavy blonde hair and red, puffy eyes said into her phone. “Okay, okay. We’ll talk later. Call me when you get home from book club. I’ll be just wakingup.”

“Hey. You were in my orientation.” Rafe recognized her as one of the kids in red T-shirts up front. He thought they only traveled in packs avoiding all British students. “It’s great running into other Yankshere.”

They reintroduced themselves. Her name wasAllison.

“What dorm are you in?” Allisonasked.

“Sweeney.”

“Oh. Those are nice. We’re up inJones.”

Rafe had only passed by Jones once, when he and Eamonn went to the soccer field. They were on the opposite end of campus, which explained why he hadn’t seen heraround.

“So how are you liking it?” Rafeasked.

Allison shot him a look, as if to say “look at myface.”

“Isn’t there a whole group ofyou?”

“They’re in Edinburgh thisweek.”

“During the week? What aboutclasses?”

“They pay kids to write their papers and attend classes for them. They try to spend as little time as possible here. Most nights, we go into London to party with UCL kids. I don’t go to Cornell with them. I’m camp friends with one of the girls, and this was supposed to be our adventure in Europe. But then we got in a fight because this Dartmouth guy she likes at UCL hit on me, and it’s my fault. So now they’re all traveling in Ireland and Scotland, and she didn’t invite me. Bitch.” Allison dressed for Apothecary like she was going to 7-Eleven to pick up a carton of ice cream to bringhome.

No wonder Rafe never saw those Americans around. He did not miss their presence, and he was ticked off that they just left their friendbehind.

Rafe handed Allison a cocktailnapkin.

“Thanks. I’m just a little homesick, too,” Allison said, with a sniffle. “It just hit me how far away we are. And I miss Syracuse. The buildings back home are old on the outside, but at least they’re updated inside. Everything here is so old and so muchsmaller.”

That was part of the charm of being abroad. They were living in history. England wasn’t bland and cookie-cutter.

“And I hate watching soccer and having to convert things to the metric system and using a power adapter to plug anything in. Why are plugs different? Could they really not be standardized?” Allison sniffledagain.

“At least we can drink legally,” Rafesaid.

“It’s not the same. There are no parties. Just going to the pub. It’s just different here.” She shrugged, like there was no other way to putit.

Rafe glanced around at the packed bar and his friends in their booth. Itwasdifferent but in the bestway.

“You seem to love it here,” Allison said, a hint of jealousy in hervoice.

“Ido.”