Page 6 of Taming Georgia

True love is a concept only valid in storybooks. A boy will never save me. Only I can do that.

When I get home from school, my mom lets my sister, London, and I know that my dad has acquired a new company in California, and unfortunately, we will be moving again. London is furious, as this is her senior year in high school, and she wanted her last year to be one without a relocation.

Had this news come two days ago, I would’ve been devastated, too. Yet my mom’s announcement only makes me smile. Six months was more than enough time here. Who needs autumn and multicolored leaves when one can have the beach and the ocean? After all, the leaves change colors and fall because they die. It’s pretty morbid when I stop to think about it.

Wyatt can have this stupid place surrounded by death. I’ll take sunny California. When I’m surfing in the blue ocean, I hope Wyatt knows that I won’t be thinking of him. In fact, I’m never going to think of him again.

1

Seven Years Later

“I might not be able to change the world, but I can make one person’s day a little brighter. There’s a euphoria that comes with that. It’s unlike anything else.”—Georgia Wright

I wake with a start. A small yelp escapes my lungs as I sit up in bed. I hold my hand to my chest, my breathing ragged.

It’s dark as I look around, trying to get a handle on my bearings.

Where am I?

One might think that this sensation of not knowing where I was would be an uncommon one, but they’d be incorrect. I actually wake quite regularly, not knowing where I am. That’s one of the downfalls of moving around as much as I do.

It takes me a minute to realize that I’m in Paige’s guest bedroom. I can breathe again. I allow my head to fall back to my pillow, but I don’t dare close my eyes. I can’t risk falling back into the nightmare I just awoke from.

I can still see the fear in Ye-jun’s face as he sprinted across the border between China and North Korea, fleeing the country he served. The moss-green military uniform he wore as he ran for his life said nothing of his loyalty, only of his desperation.

Some think that the soldiers in North Korea are treated well, seeing that they are serving their country, but they’re not. Their service isn’t a choice, and their quality of life is an afterthought. They are starving, just like the rest of their people.

Ye-jun’s life was so miserable that he was willing to risk it as he dashed into China with the guns of his brothers firing at his back.

The organization that I worked with tried to save him, but his injuries were too great. I held his hand as he took his last breath. The part that haunts me is that I got the feeling he was happy to die. His life on earth was so bad that his looming death was a relief.

How sad is that?

I can remember all of their faces—the ones we were able to save and the ones we weren’t. And the overwhelming similarity between them is that they were all willing to die to escape North Korea. Mothers risked their baby girls’ lives to escape. I can’t begin to imagine how bad life must be in order to sacrifice everything.

Honestly, the world is a messed up place. I’ve fed starving children. I’ve held people while they died from AIDS. I’ve tied myself to a hundred-year-old tree in the rainforest of the Amazon in an attempt to stop it from being chopped down. I’ve aided in rebuilding schools that were demolished from a hurricane. I’ve delivered clean water to people who acted as if it was the most amazing gift they’ve ever received. I’ve spent every free moment of my adult life trying to make the world better because I feel I have to.

I was born into money. I was given a trust fund amounting to hundreds of thousands of dollars simply because I existed. I had done nothing to earn it. Truthfully, part of me doesn’t even want it. My guilt overwhelms me.

I’ve always had all that I needed. So, I choose to spend my money traveling to places where I can help people in need. Giving myself in this way alleviates some of my guilt but not all of it. There is so much more to be done.

I should say that Ichose—past tense—to spend my money on important travesties taking place. At the present time, I no longer have access to my trust fund. My parents hate that I travel and put myself in dangerous situations. So, when I came back from China a couple of weeks ago to surprise my sister, London, for her birthday, they seized their opportunity to cut me off, so I couldn’t leave again.

My dad still deposits a monthly allowance into my bank account so that I can afford my living expenses—not quite enough to travel the world, but more than enough to live comfortably. The concept of being cut off doesn’t mean the same to me as it would to others—yet another privilege that brings me shame.

I suppose I don’t blame my parents for wanting me to stay in the same country as them. If I had a daughter, I’m sure I’d feel the same way. I’d want to know that she was safe.

My sister’s best friend, Paige, offered me her guest bedroom until I figure out where I’m going next. I accepted her offer immediately. I love my parents, but I love them more when I’m not living with them. I’m sure I could’ve stayed with London as well. Yet she and her husband, Loïc, are still newlyweds, and they’re trying to conceive a baby. I didn’t want to cramp their style.

I roll out of bed and put my running gear on, making sure to wear my fleece-lined leggings, as it snowed last night. When I step out onto Paige’s front porch, my face is assaulted with a bitter wind. The sun is just starting to peek up over the eastern sky, and it’s freezing.

I’m not a fan of the cold, but then again, I’m not a fan of watching my mom and her acroyoga coach bending their bodies into weird positions in the middle of the living room as I’m trying to watch reality TV. Nothing ruins a good episode ofProperty Brotherslike seeing my mom’s ass in the air.

Yes, Paige’s place in Michigan, cold and all, is better than living with my parents.

As I jog down the sidewalks of Ann Arbor, certain buildings and places bring back memories. London went to college in this town, and I visited her several times. Plus, once upon a time, I lived here with my family for a few months. There aren’t many places I haven’t lived.

Despite the cold, the fresh snowfall is stunning. A blanket of white covers everything, creating a clean canvas to start the day. With each crunch of snow beneath my feet, I pull the brisk air into my lungs. The icy burn feels oddly pleasant and invigorating.

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