Page 30 of Eternally London

I loop my arm in Paige’s as we head up the walkway to my house. “I don’t believe you, but that’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Me, too. It’s been too long,” she agrees.

“Clearly.” I laugh. “From the sex sounds you were making as that guy rubbed your foot, you really should go more often, so when you do get a pedicure, you don’t embarrass yourself.”

“There were no sex sounds,” Paige scoffs.

“Oh, there were.” I snicker.

Paige sighs dreamily. “He was like a magician with his hands. My feet have never felt so good. And he looked like Glenn, right? You know how crazy I am about Glenn. The only thing that would have been hotter was if he were rubbing my feet that way while fighting zombies. I think I would have had a full-on orgasm.”

I throw my head back in laughter. “I have no doubt.” I open the door to our screened-in porch, and Paige and I enter. “Steven Yeun is just an actor. He might be a total pansy in real life.”

“Hell no,” Paige objects adamantly. “He can’t fake that level of badass just for the cameras. He’s like that in real life. If we ever do succumb to a zombie apocalypse, I want Steven with me, on me, in me…all of it. I will call him Glenn though.”

“Oh my gosh.” I chuckle. “He has a wife. Is he just supposed to leave her to be eaten by zombies?”

Paige lets out a sigh of mock annoyance. “Fine. She can come, too. As long as she realizes that I’m Glenn’s true love.”

“Speaking of true love”—I raise my eyebrows—“you still have to finish telling me about Ethan’s last visit.”

“Oh, I will. I—” Paige begins to say as I open the front door.

She’s cut off by a very loud, “Surprise!” as we enter the kitchen.

I jump, startled. As I cover my mouth, my eyes are wide while I scan the open space. It’s adorned with a Happy Birthday banner that stretches from one wall to the other. There are at least a hundred hot pink, black, and silver balloons scattered about, and a giant three-tiered cake sits on the table. And all of that, while nice, isn’t anything compared to what else fills the room—my people. My mom, dad, Maggie, Sarah, Dixon, and…

“George!” I scream, tears filling my eyes, as I run toward my sister.

“Londy!” she shrieks as we hug each other tight.

I haven’t seen my sister in over a year. She’s been trying to save the world from somewhere in Asia, and we haven’t had many communication opportunities. I’ve missed her so much and worried about her even more.

“What—how did you—when?” I can’t even form a complete sentence. I’m completely overwhelmed.

Georgia laughs. “Your husband, of course. He’s a man of many connections, and he’s very persuasive, I might add.”

I take my baby sister’s face in my hands and really look at her. She’s only two years younger than I am, but she’s always seemed much younger. She doesn’t anymore. She seems older, wiser. Her face is so tan for her normally pale complexion. Her long blonde hair is wild, falling in loose waves over her shoulders. It’s beautiful, as always, but it’s also clear that it hasn’t seen a salon or quality hair products in a very long time. Looking into her eyes, I can tell she isn’t the same girl she was the last time I saw her, but then again, I guess I’m not either.

“I’ve missed you so much.” I pull her into another embrace. After a few moments, I release her, saying, “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

I turn to find Loïc with a satisfied smile across his face. I step toward him, and he wraps his arms around me and kisses me.

“Thank you so much,” I say when his lips leave mine. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I think back to last night. “So, the secret phone calls?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He nods with a laugh.

“So, you’re not cheating on me?” I say jokingly.

He shakes his head. “No. And you can check my phone now if you’d like.” He smirks.

“Oh, you are so silly,” my mom says from behind me. “That boy’s crazy about you. He’s been planning this party for months.”

“Mom.” I tightly hug her.

“Happy birthday, London.” She hugs me back.

I make my way around the room, greeting everyone. I give Maggie an extra-long embrace. The last person I reach is Sarah, and my heart drops when I see the size of her belly. She’s due next month, and it makes me ill, thinking about it. My belly should be almost as big as hers, but it’s not. A sliver of hatred courses through me—no, not hatred. I suppose it’s envy. Yet it feels an awful lot like hate.

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