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272

Zöe Beck

has met in his life? Yes,

exactly. Not a single one.

Just keep scrolling down.

I’d like to know what other

nonsense they’ve been

writing about me.”

“About you?”

He shrugged. “Will you

scroll down now?” Either

he hadn’t noticed that my

fingers were trembling or

he had decided to ignore

them. My hands weren’t

the only things that

were shaking. I had to sit

down, and then I talked

to him. I had no idea how

I managed to make it so

long without passing out,

but by the end, we had

actually chatted a couple

of hours, and my heartrate

had calmed back down.

It’s amazing how quickly

you can get used to a Púca

once he’s there.

The bottom line was this:

Flann was a remarkably

amusing and undeniably

clever bloke, but the

problem was that I was

the only one who could

see him. At the same

time, this was chiefly

my problem. Flann said

that I would eventually

work it out, and besides,

everyone in St. Andrews

knew about him.

“Almost everyone,” I said.

“Screw

the

tourists,”

Flann declared. “And the

students. Forget about

them.”

“I teach at the university,”

I pointed out. “Besides,

I meant somebody else.

Sam.”

The

neighbors

might think I was crazy

for doing things like going

to the pub and ordering

a beer for my invisible

friend, but as far as I was

concerned, it was fine