Finding London by Ellie Wade (best pdf ebook reader .txt) đ
- Author: Ellie Wade
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For the first time in eight years, the smile on my face is genuine.
âWell, I think we should get a little farther away and then maybe find somewhere to sleep. Thatâs what homeless people do, right?â
âI guess so.â She giggles.
We walk at a leisurely pace now.
âSarah, whatâs your last name?â
âWhy?â she wonders sweetly.
âI was just thinking about it earlier, and I was curious.â
âIt doesnât matter what my last name was. It isnât one I plan on keeping, thatâs for sure. Whatâs yours?â
âBerkeley.â
âDid you have nice parents at some point?â she questions.
âThe best,â I admit sadly.
She thinks for a moment and nods her head. âMy last name can be Berkeley then.â
âSounds good to me.â I chuckle. âYou can be like my sister.â
âI like that.â She nods. âI just hope they donât find me.â Sadness returns to her voice.
I have a feeling that they is a lot more people than just Bev and Carl, but itâs not important because I will keep Sarah safe. âThey wonât. No one will.â
âPromise?â
âI promise.â
I make a silent vow to always protect Sarah. No one stepped up to the plate to save me after my parents died, but I donât need anyone to protect me now. I have myself. But Sarahâs fragile. She was close to breaking, and sheâs already improving. The sensation that comes along with knowing that I had a small part in healing a piece of her heart feels better than any sensation I can remember.
It feels a little like love.
âLoĂŻc is and will forever be the only fish in my sea. If I canât have him, then I donât want another.â
âLondon Wright
âThe grass isnât always greener on the other side, chica.â Paige provides her words of advice.
The two of us are lounging on my bed, each with a pint of Ben & Jerryâs ice cream sitting on our shelvesâalso known as our boobs. Yes, weâre dressed. My T-shirt-clad breasts provide the perfect place to place the fattiest flavor of ice cream I could find, which happens to be Chubby Hubby. My ultimate goal is to eat as much as I can, become extremely obese, and cry myself to sleep for the rest of my life until I die. At which point, I will have died sad, alone, and fat with hairy legs because I wouldnât have seen the point of showering either.
My mom always said I had a flair for the dramatic. She might have a point.
âYou know, I think your advice actually has merit this time.â
âReally?â Paige asks excitedly.
âI mean, given another boy or breakup, then, yes, that saying would work. But, unfortunately, it doesnât work for this scenario because LoĂŻc is the one, Paige. I know it. The grass will always be greener where he is.â
âIâm just trying to help you, so please donât get mad at me.â
I eye her with an accusing stare.
âStop. You know you get mad at me if you hate my advice, and it usually ends with, âI hate you.â Then, you apologize and say that you donât.â
âOkay, you might be right. I promise not to get mad. Continue.â I wave my hand in the air.
âI guess Iâm just wondering why youâre so upset over this dude. Sure, heâs fucking hot. I get it. Heâs nice enough, I guess. But the baggage? Apparently, he has a seven forty-seven full of it. Who wants to deal with that?â
âI do,â I whine in protest. âI want it all.â
âWhy, babe? You barely know him. You havenât even gone all the way. I mean, I could see if you had been careless and gotten knocked up, then you would put some effort into making it work with your baby daddy. But, unless youâre secretly with child and not telling me, I canât understand why youâre so down about this one. Heâs just a guy. There are plenty more where he came from. There are other fish in the sea.â
âFirst, I have to say, once again, that saying would be appropriate here, given it were another guy. So, kudos to you. Iâm impressed. But LoĂŻc is and will forever be the only fish in my sea. If I canât have him, then I donât want another. And, secondly, I hate you.â
âLondon!â Paige smacks my arm with her hand.
âStop, Paige!â I laugh. âYouâre going to make me spill my Chubby Hubby, and this might be the only hubby I get in life.â
âYouâre so ridiculous.â
âI know. I canât help it. But, seriously, I might love him, Paige. I would never tell him that because he would totally freak out. But heâs unlike any guy Iâve been with. Itâs so hard to explain, and the entire thing sounds cheesyâŠlike Iâm pulling it from a Disney movie. But, when Iâm with him, I just know. He needs me. Weâre perfect together. He simply has to get his head out of his ass and see it.â
âAll right, girlfriend, Iâm stopping you right there. You do not love him,â she says with a huff. âI donât know if you even like him. From what youâve told me, he sounds like a mess who doesnât know which way is up. Isnât your head spinning? âCause mine sure is, like a teeter-totter.â
âTeeter-totters donât spin.â
âOkay, like a freight train on full speed,â she says dramatically.
âNope, still no spinning involved,â I say with a straight face, trying not to laugh.
âA merry-go-round?â
âYeah, that would work. Or maybe one of those spinny-top things,â I offer.
âOkay, fine. So, my head is spinning like a merry-go-round from this shit. Isnât yours?â
I sigh. âIâm sorry; you lost me at freight train.â
We both burst out in a fit of laughter, and it feels good. Thereâs nothing better than laughing with your best friend until your sides ache.
Our laughter finally ceases, and I wipe my eyes.
Paige says, âMy entire point, before you had to split hairs, is that you donât love him. Youâre obsessed with him because you canât have him. You think about him nonstop because he doesnât want you. His rejection is making you crazy. You, London, do not like being told no. Thatâs what this whole thing is about.â
I take a minute to think about her words. âMaybe youâre right. Rejection sucks.â
âYeah, it does.â
âSo, how do I get someone who doesnât want me?â
Paige thumps the heel of her hand against her forehead. âOh my God, I might as well be talking to a wall.â
âWhatever.â I donât feed into her dramatics. âJust tell me what to do.â
âI donât have any more advice for you,â Paige says in a resigned tone. âThis whole thing is out of my advice realm.â
âYou canât be out of advice. I need it,â I protest.
âI gave you mine, remember? I said, charter a plane without so much baggage. But, no, you want the baggage. I said, stop going after someone who doesnât want you back. But, no, you donât want to listen to that either. So, Iâve got nothing for ya. Heâs specialâŠblah, blah, blah. Then, get him back, I guess.â
I point my index finger toward her. âThere are no blah, blah, blahs allowed in giving advice, but I think youâre right.â I pause and nod my head for effect. âIâm getting my man back!â I yell, lifting my spoon in the air in triumph. âLondon Wright does not back down from a challenge.â
âExactly! And we know London Wrightâs serious when she starts speaking in third person!â Paige cheers along beside me. âBut before you go and hijack that seven forty-seven of hotness, can we please finish watching season five of Downton Abbey? Weâre so behind. I need to know what Edith is going to do with the baby, and then we need to move on to the final season. Paige McAllister has needs, too, and theyâre all going to come from that magic box right there.â She points dramatically to my flat screen TV hanging on the wall at the foot of my bed. âAnd since my needs are more accessible than yours at the moment, I think I win.â
âThatâs fine,â I sigh. âYou know these things take planning anyway. It hasnât even been a week yet. Iâm going to give the boy at least a week to come to his senses, a chance to come back begging. But, if he doesnât, then game on.â
âThatâs my girl!â she says with enthusiasm as she grabs the remote. âNow, which episode were we on?â she asks herself as she scrolls through the menu.
My tummy is about to explode from ice cream overload, so I set the pint down on my bedside table. Besides, I no longer want to become obese and die. Instead, I want LoĂŻc back, and Iâm going to fight to get him. He might not know what he wants, but I do.
An extremely happy and lively version of my sister fills up my laptop screen as she adamantly tells me of her latest adventure. I havenât physically spoken to Georgia in a month. All our communication has been over social media or text, so it is so great to see her and hear her voice.
It could be the color settings of my computer screen, but she looks so tan. Iâve never seen her with truly bronzed skin.
Georgia and I are opposites in almost every way. Where my skin darkens after just a few minutes in the sun, hers is pale, burning more than it tans. She has long blonde hair, opposite to my brown. She even has these brilliant blue eyes, which are in complete contrast to my brown ones. She looks nothing like me or my parents. Apparently, my dadâs mother was pale-skinned with blonde hair and blue eyes. Georgia has always stood out at family events, oftentimes being the only blonde in the room. When she was little, she was like this little cherub with rosy cheeks and blonde ringlets. She always seems to be the center of attentionânot because she is necessarily more beautiful than anyone else, but because sheâs different. She stands out wherever she goes with her angel-like appearance and exuberant personality.
I suppose we are similar in that way. Weâre both comfortable with being the center of attention. However, Georgia is more adventurous than I am. I love to experience new places in comfort. Paris? I loved our trip there, but while Mom and I were shopping and dining at the best restaurants in the city, Georgia was touring Les Catacombesâalso known as the Empire of Death. Apparently, it is an underground tomb, complete with musty dark tunnels and neatly stacked bones, like skulls and such from dead humans.
No, thank you.
Georgia is talking a mile a minute as she fills me in on the last two months of her European adventures. Something she said catches me off guard.
âWait, slow down. Did you just say youâre in Brazil?â
âYeah, I told you at the beginning that Iâm in Manaus.â She
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