Read Online Ex Nihilo Academy by Jennifer Watts - Free Book Online Page B

but you cannot fault a man for looking at a pretty girl. Anyway, you seem like the type who can take care of herself.”
     His observation makes me simultaneously blush and smile.
    “So how’s your girlfriend?” I ask and it’s his turn to blush.
    “She’s fine. She’s very busy at school.” His says in a
     clipped voice.
    “What’s her name?”
    “Jenny.” He shifts away from me and clears his throat.
    “I get the feeling you don’t want to talk about Jenny.”
    “You’d be right about that feeling.”
    “Okay, message received. So what is there to do for fun around here?” Sensing his discomfort I try to change the subject.
    “Not much.” He laughs. “But if you don’t have plans tomorrow
     night you should come and see my band play. We have a show at a pub in Portaferry just across the way.” “You’re in a band? That is so cool. What kind of music do you play?” I am genuinely impressed.
    “It’s sort of a mix of punk and alternative.”
    “Wait, you are playing in a pub? How am I even supposed to get in?” I consider this and he just shrugs.
    “It’s Ireland. Anyone can come in.”
    “I will definitely come then. Music has gotten me through a
     lot of hard times so I always try and pay my respects.”
    “I’m glad to hear it. I feel the same way. Music is my second great love.”
    “And what is your first?” I say playfully and he stares back
     at me, his eyes serious.
    “I’ll let you know.”
    * *
    The old truck that Rowan insisted I drive is idling at the dock as I wait for the ferry to arrive. He left earlier with his band to set up
     so I’m stuck getting to Portaferry on my own. The boats are supposed to come every half an hour and I check my watch, which reads almost seven thirty. There are only a few cars waiting and they are lined up on the slipway behind me. I glance down to check my outfit for the tenth time since I left the house. I’m
     wearing a white American Apparel tank dress under a dark wash jean jacket and navy cork wedges that wrap around my ankles. For jewelry I have on the simple silver pendant my mom gave me and diamond studs. I went with my usual make up
     of mascara, lip stain and a bit of bronzer and I blow dried my hair straight. It’s been awhile since my last visit to the hairdresser and it’s grown out so it’s now touching between my shoulder blades. I try and tell myself that I’ve
     dressed up for no one but me and that it couldn’t possibly be because a guy with a pair of deep set, dark blue eyes and impossibly long lashes has asked me to come and watch him play.
    “He has a girlfriend.” I mutter to myself as the ferry
     arrives and we load on to it. Once I’m on board I buy a ticket and then roll down the windows to enjoy the cool evening air. The water is calm with only a few sailboats dotting the horizon and the sky is streaked with orange and
     indigo from the fading sunset. It is beautiful and it makes me think of home and I’m hit by a sudden wave of incredible sadness.
    We unload from the ferry and I park on the street and walk to the pub, which I find just a few streets over. It is in a boxy white
     building with green shuttered windows that is located on a narrow one-way street. I can hear the music blaring from inside and people are spilling out from the open front doors. I elbow my way through the crowd which is mostly
     young, except for a few old men flanking the bar and a few end-of-season tourists that have that deer-in-headlights look that I only recognize because I’ve worn it myself.
    I order myself a coke and push my way to the front. The last
     band has just finished up and Rowan is making his way on stage with his guitar in hand. His eyes find me and he smiles, totally ignoring the girl to my right who is shrieking at him. I feel a surge of pleasure that he’s singled me out given all of the girls who have flocked to the stage. He’s wearing black jeans
     with motorcycle boots and a fitted gray dress skirt with