Page 58 of Keeping London (Flawed Heart)

I read the email over, debating on whether or not to add more to it, but I don’t know what else to put. Sighing, I hit Send. It will have to do. I’ll do better on my email tomorrow.

I’ve been in such a funk since New Year’s, and I’m not sure why. I know I didn’t do anything wrong where Brad was concerned.Or maybe I did unknowingly?I’m not sure, but my intentions were in the right place.

Perhaps my sour mood has nothing to do with Brad and everything to do with the fact that I just miss Loïc. I knew this long-distance-relationship deal would be hard, but, man, it sucks.

Loïc seems to think we will be able to find a time to Skype in the next few days, which is great. I need to see him.

Yeah, everything will be better when I can see him.

Loïc

Age Eight

New Hope, Mississippi

“It’s so hard to be brave when I’m so scared. But I have to be.”

—Loïc Berkeley

I walk into the side kitchen door to find my mom frosting my birthday cake.

“How was your day, Loïc, love?” she says with a wide smile.

I answer her with a big hug as I wrap my arms around her waist. I love when Mom is happy.

Dad bursts into the kitchen. “I thought I heard a birthday boy in here. Come on, come on,” he says to Mom and me. He grabs our hands and leads out the door and to the backyard.

I stand in the center of the square of grass that makes up our yard and expectantly look around.

“I spy with my little eye something that is red,” my dad says, his eyes shining with happiness.

I turn in a circle in the middle of the small grassy space, but I can’t find anything that’s red.

“I spy two wheels…twenty-inch wheels,” he clarifies.

I gasp and frantically search.

“With six speeds,” he adds.

“Where is it? Where is it, Dad?” I shout, feeling so happy.

He nods toward the garage, and I take off running until I’m in the building, standing in front of the coolest bike ever—an awesome, shiny red six-speed mountain bike. It’s like the one that boy down the street has, except way cooler.

“Thank you!” I shout as I jump into my dad’s arms.

He lets me down, and I hug my mom.

“Thank you so much! I love it!”

I can’t believe they got me the bike. I really wanted it, but I thought it was too expensive. I glance over to the worn green bike leaning against the wall of the garage. It’s the bike I’ve had since I was four. Even though it hasn’t had its training wheels for a long time, it still looks like a baby bike to me. Dad had raised the seat all the way up, but I could barely ride it because it was too small. But, now, I have a big-boy bike, a real bike.

“Happy birthday, Loïc,” my dad says as he pulls me into another big hug.

The memory of my seventh birthday plays in my mind. I can’t believe it was one year ago already.

I wish it were still my seventh birthday. Actually, I wish my parents were here to celebrate my eighth birthday with me.

I twirl the Happy Birthday pencil that I got from my new teacher between my fingers. If it weren’t for school, I probably wouldn’t have even known it was my birthday. Dwight and Stacey haven’t said anything about it. I’m sure they won’t.

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