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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