Page 46 of Finding London

I understand what it feels like because that same surge of optimism is blooming within my chest, too. I know that Bev’s words and my subsequent realization about my life will come back to haunt me. I don’t know how to get over that type of abandonment and loss. But, for now, I’m not going to mourn it. Instead, I’m going to let this newfound sensation of empowerment engulf me and carry me along for as long as it can.

For the first time in eight years, the smile on my face is genuine.

“Well, I think we should get a little farther away and then maybe find somewhere to sleep. That’s what homeless people do, right?”

“I guess so.” She giggles.

We walk at a leisurely pace now.

“Sarah, what’s your last name?”

“Why?” she wonders sweetly.

“I was just thinking about it earlier, and I was curious.”

“It doesn’t matter what my last name was. It isn’t one I plan on keeping, that’s for sure. What’s yours?”

“Berkeley.”

“Did you have nice parents at some point?” she questions.

“The best,” I admit sadly.

She thinks for a moment and nods her head. “My last name can be Berkeley then.”

“Sounds good to me.” I chuckle. “You can be like my sister.”

“I like that.” She nods. “I just hope they don’t find me.” Sadness returns to her voice.

I have a feeling thattheyis a lot more people than just Bev and Carl, but it’s not important because I will keep Sarah safe. “They won’t. No one will.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

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 don’t need anyone to protect me now. I have myself. But Sarah’s fragile. She was close to breaking, and she’s 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.

London

“Loïc is and will forever be the only fish in my sea. If I can’t have him, then I don’t want another.”

—London Wright

“The grass isn’t always greener on the other side, chica.” Paige provides her words of advice.

The two of us are lounging on my bed, each with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream sitting on our shelves—also known as our boobs. Yes, we’re 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 wouldn’t have seen the point of showering either.

My mom always said I had a flair for the dramatic. She might have a point.

“You know, I think your advice actually has merit this time.”

“Really?” Paige asks excitedly.

“I mean, given another boy or breakup, then, yes, that saying would work. But, unfortunately, it doesn’t work for this scenario because Loïc is the one, Paige. I know it. The grass will always be greener where he is.”

“I’m just trying to help you, so please don’t get mad at me.”

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