“Finley, can you get Mrs. Bates and bring her to the dining room, please?” Carmen popped her head into the room where I played chess with Mr. Alphonse.

“Sure. He’s about to beat me anyway.”

“He beats everyone, doesn’t he? Still a genius. Can’t bloody remember how to pee, but he recalls Newton’s law of gravitational motion,” she muttered as she left us.

Mr. Alphonse, who was also hard of hearing, was crushing me again. He had dementia but brutally beating everyone at chess hadn’t been lost yet. His fingers trembled as he moved his piece, nodding while saying something under his breath I barely caught, “Checkmate, Martha.”

Today I was Martha which reminded me of Marbles.

It was my fifth time being at the home in ten days. They thought I was a keener and a hard worker or a royal suck-up, but really they were helping me get through the initial withdrawal of no Aiden.

He’d stuck to his promise and texted throughout the day and FaceTimed me every evening, which meant I didn’t have a lot of free time. But coming here in the little bit I did have, was therapeutic. It made me tired and filled me up at the same time.

“Thanks for the game, sir. I’ll be back to make sure you get to dinner all right,” I said loudly as I squeezed his frail hand and got up.

“I’ll get him if you get Mrs. Bates,” Carmen called after me.

“Okay.” I waved back. Carmen and I had become sort of homies. She was a single mom with two sons. Her ex was a douche who didn’t pay for his kids so she worked all kinds of overtime. Her stories were funny and sort of sad. She gave me perspective on my so-called problems in life.

She’d been obsessed with the prince thing the first week but had gotten better in the last couple of days. She was the only one. Everyone else, especially Janet, was intense when it came to grilling me about the royal family. Always asking me about events I had no idea about.

When I saw the door to Mrs. Bates’ room, I smiled. She had a huge Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob. It looked homemade.

Mrs. Bates was a cranky old bat who reminded me of Hattie, only she had a thick accent and dyed-pink hair. Something Hattie wouldn’t be caught dead in. Even dead, she would come back to stop it.

I knocked on her door, calling out, “Mrs. Bates, it’s Fin. You ready for dinner?” I knocked once more and turned the knob, opening it.

She turned to see the door open from where she sat on the sofa. She mumbled something and waved me off.

“It’s dinner,” I said loudly, pointing down the hall.

“I’m not hungry.” Her “not” was more like a “no.” Scots didn't always pronounce the t at the end of the word.

“Well then, I guess I get all the pistachio ice cream.” I shrugged and took a step back into the hall.

“What?” She perked up.

“Pistachio!” I shouted. “But if you don’t want any, that’s cool.”

“Cool. Ha! What’s cool?” She lifted herself to her walker and started the slow progression to the door, lured by the ice cream. She had one love, not even her husband made her happy like pistachio ice cream. She walked to the door and passed by me, still rambling but not making sense. I caught the odd word from her, like “fecking.”

She paused partway, needing a breather.

“You all right?” I asked but made sure my tone wasn’t too caring. Showing weakness to old ladies like her was the moment you lost them.

“’Course, I’m all right. I’m right as rain. Ya wee bampot,” she cussed and moved a little quicker.

“Bampot,” I knew. It was old Scottish lady for “idiot.”

Fighting a grin, I followed her into the dining hall. When she was at her table and about to sit, I leaned in and muttered, “Dessert is rice pudding. I lied about the pistachio ice cream.”

She paused, her nose wrinkling into a disgusted sneer. For a second, I thought she might cuss me out, but she broke into a laugh. She slapped me in the arm and told me to “Feck off,” or something close to it.

“But maybe if you eat your dinner, I’ll see if we have some.” I kissed her cheek and sauntered over to the door to the cooks, meeting Carmen there.

“How’d ya do it?”

“Lying mostly,” I confessed and opened the door, waving at Duchess, our resident chef. “Do we have any pistachio ice cream?”

“’Course we do. Don’t be daft. There’d be a rebellion if we didn’t. But I’m telling ya now, if Mrs. Bates expects some, she best be eating an entire meal. She’s worse than a bairn with that.”

“I’ll make sure she does.” I laughed. They really weren’t any different than the residents and employees at Lakeside.

“You can’t, my dear. It’s nearly six.” Carmen glanced at the clock.

“Oh shi—oot. Shoot,” I tried to cover.

Carmen laughed at me. “You’ve been here for three hours already. You best be going.”

“Right.” I peered over at Duchess again. “Don’t forget her pistachio. Please. I’ll owe ya.”

Duchess rolled her eyes but kept jamming to the weird German reggae she always listened to.

“Night.” I waved and turned, hitting the hand sanitizer on my way out into the cold wind.

The empty street was still a sight for sore eyes. I’d been free of Isaac and Tracy since Aiden left, the only good part about him going. Though we all missed the rides. They’d been at our beckon call as chauffeurs, which had been handy. Now we used cabs and Ubers, and it wasn't the same.

The call I was expecting and dreading came as I rounded the corner to home. The wind blew hard so I turned, protecting the phone. “Hello?” My stomach hadn’t had a chance to twist into knots with the busy afternoon, but the moment I answered, it made up for lost time.

“Hello, I’m hoping to reach Finley Roze,” a nice sounding lady said on the other side.

“This is she,” I said the thing I was told to.

“Brilliant, this is Harley Turpin, the assistant to the editor for Hello! We’re hoping to finalize the interview this weekend.”

My stomach did circles but I tried to sound like I was the coolest girl ever, “Oh right, yes. That’s fine. I’ll be in Edinburgh on Sunday but Saturday works.”

“I’ve heard through the grapevine that you volunteer at a retirement community in St Andrews. Would it be possible to conduct the interview there?” I knew the question was coming but it still made me uncomfortable, like my old people were some sort of sideshow to make me appear human.

“Sure. Why don’t we say one in the afternoon, that way lunch is over?” Did I sound as robotic as I felt?

“Excellent. I’m really excited for this.” She seemed excited, but I wasn’t sure how much of this was an act. “Can you have your assistant email me the address so we don't have any cock-ups?”

“Okay, cool. See you then.” I hung up the phone and tried not to let the weird feeling of being interviewed overwhelm me. It wasn’t the actual interview that bothered me; it was the fact this would change everything. One interview would open all the doors and windows I’d been hiding behind all at once. I sent Aiden a text that the journalist needed the directions and address of my retirement home. That bummed me out. I didn't want to expose my old people.

When I entered the dorm, Seamus was there, sitting at the dining room table. His cheeks flushed the moment I saw him. I wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Fin.”

“Where are the girls?” He seemed to be alone.

“Linna’s changing and Jess is at the library. She said to tell you she’s expecting you.” He lowered his voice, “And Luke asked me to tell you that saying hello is not only polite but also well within your allowable”—he paused and checked his phone, reading from it—“allowable actions as a woman who is spoken for.”

The words and the sight of Seamus reading them made me smile, but Lucas wasn't getting anything near a hello from me. “Tell him to stop messaging me.” I grabbed my books from the table where Jess had no doubt stacked them neatly for me. “And tell Linna I went to the library with Jess.” I turned right around and ran out the door.

Studying this much was also new for me.

The C+ had been the start of something.

That was a lie, the interview had been the start of everything.

And Jess taunted me nonstop, she was like a fat camp coach on The Biggest Loser. Constantly goading me with, “Would you want the reporters to tell anyone about this? The work isn’t going to do itself. Push harder.”

Prepared for more of it tonight as we studied, I was surprised when I found her in the library, red faced and smiling as if she was talking to Johan. Some guy with his back to me was speaking to her, and she didn’t seem to mind.

Her eyes widened when she saw me, waving and not acting embarrassed at all that I’d caught her red handed and cheeked. The guy turned, shocking the hell out of me. Aaron Merchant was standing in the library in St Andrews. I stopped dead in my tracks as a smile crept across my lips. “No way.”

“There she is!” He held his arms out.

I hurried to him, letting him hug me. He smelled like home, not the way Aiden did, but like real home. Like Spokane. I inhaled him a little bit and got lost in the scent of my childhood for a second. “I can’t believe you’re here,” I said, muffled and nearly choking on his shirt.

“Fin.” He sighed and hugged too hard, squishing my books into me. “You have books and you’re in the library. What’s going on here?” He let go and stepped back, shaking his head. “And you found the freshman fifteen.”

“Dick.” I swatted him. “It’s only freshman eleven.” Why did everyone think it was okay to mention my weight?

“Hmmhmmm.” He folded his arms, looking exactly the same.

“What are you doing here?”

“Chilling. I decided I needed to see some shit. I dropped my classes before the cutoff and left. I don’t know what I want to be. So I told Dad I wasn’t going to waste time and money. I got a job in Ireland at a bar. I remember you always saying that was what you were gonna do. I messaged Linna and told her I was in Ireland. She said I should visit sometime. I have the weekend off so I caught a flight here for a couple of days.”

“And your dad was cool with that?”

“God no. He’s all”—he lowered his voice—“Aaron you need to be a man and make some decisions.” He rolled his eyes. “Like he’s one to talk. My grandpa gave him the job he has. Whatever. How’s it going here?”

“Good.” I peered over at Jess who was still blushing. “I mean, different. It seems I can’t bribe my teachers so I have to actually study, which is super lame. I have some bullshit interview with a magazine I’ve never heard of. And a baby shower for a girl Aiden may or may not have hooked up with.” I shrugged and turned to Jess. “Did you think his cousins were saying he totally hooked up with her?”

“Yeah, I got that vibe.” She nodded uncomfortably.

“Who?” Aaron scowled.

“Aiden’s cousins told us Aiden hooked up with the girl the baby shower is for. So awkward. Anyway, his cousin goes here. She seems like she’s fun but kinda crazy. Like an English Linna.”

“Oh damn. Speaking of Linna, where is the third musketeer?”

“She’s—busy.” I wasn’t sure how to say it but evidently saying it slowly gave a fairly accurate indication.

“Right.” He lifted an eyebrow and nodded. “Typical Linna. And what’s going on with the handsome princes? Still charming and shit?” He scoffed.

I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“Of course they are,” Jess answered for me. “We just never see them and the distance is sucky.” I couldn't believe she was talking about Johan. They’d worked so hard at being sneaky. “But it’s sort of whatever.” She was being awfully nonchalant for a girl who spent all her time locked in her room on the phone with him.

“Well, are we going to have fun tonight, or what?” Aaron asked. “’Cause Carter will be here in less than an hour.”

“Carter?” My jaw dropped. “Carter Henderson?” What was happening?

“Yeah, you know he’s at Princeton, so it was a short flight. Like six hours. He got into Glasgow at like five. He should be here anytime.” Aaron furrowed his brow. “Why do I feel like Linna said nothing about this?”

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” I was so lost.

“She legit said nothing about this,” Jess confirmed. “I almost had a stroke when I saw you walk into the library.”

“Well, let’s go find her and get this party started. Because I didn't come all the way from Ireland to not have fun. It’s thirsty Thursday, that’s a thing in Scotland too, right?” He laughed. “You girls have to come to Temple Bar. It’s like the Vegas Strip but Ireland’s version, and only bars and food. The entertainment comes after the drinking.” He laughed and Jess got up, strolling away with him.

Eventually, my feet moved, trailing along after them both.

He chatted like this was a normal Thursday and Jess swooned because apparently, she was not over him.

And I was in the Twilight Zone.