Page 73 of Finding London

God, I wish that were true.I wish I could throw everything we had aside, like it meant nothing. I wish more than anything that I could take back the past three months. I wish I had skipped that stupid car wash. Who cares what the girls in the sorority would have thought of me?

It’s just not fair.

My eyes burn, my chest aches, and my throat feels like it’s on the second week of a bout with bronchitis. I ache—mind, body, and soul. It all stings, and in this moment, I feel as if it always will.

This is stupid!

I grab a handful of napkins from the glove box and clean up my face. Closing my eyes, I take a few fortifying deep breaths. No one has the power to destroy me, not even Loïc. I refuse to allow anyone to shatter me.

I put the car in drive and head toward my house. I take another route, not wanting to pass Loïc’s house again. Errant tears course down my face as I tell myself over and over again that I’ll be fine.Loïc will not break me.

I don’t remember the drive back to my house, but I find myself in my driveway nonetheless.

Screw this! Screw Loïc! I’m going out.

I call a cab and run into the house. It’s just after one in the morning. I’ll have about forty-five minutes to accomplish my objective, which is plenty of time. I wash my face, throw my hair into a high ponytail, and put on one of my sluttier dresses.

I’m going to kiss Loïc out of my system. Even with puffy eyes and no makeup, I have a better chance of snatching a guy at the bar than half of the girls there. This will be cake.

I’m downing my fourth shot of vodka when I hear the cab out front. I throw the shot glass into the sink and race out the door. I could technically walk to the bar, but a cab will be quicker. I’m on a mission, and time is of the essence.

It doesn’t take me long to secure a drink and find Paige when I get there.

She can’t hide her surprise when she sees me. “What are you doing here?” She does a double take. “And why have you been crying?”

Out of everyone here, only Paige would know that I’ve been crying. She knows me better than anyone.

“I’m here to move on. Turns out that Loïc is a lying, cheating asshole. So, I’m going to find another hot guy and make out with him.”

Paige looks legitimately confused and equally concerned. “Are you sure you want to do that? Don’t rush into anything you’ll regret.”

I huff out an attempt at laughter. “Oh, I’m not going to regret it. Don’t you worry about that.”

Paige places her hand on my arm. “London, let’s go home. I think this calls for a serious ice cream sundae session with at least three types of gummy bear toppings and extra hot fudge.”

I shake my head. “Nope. You’re the one who told me that the best way to get over a guy is to get under another one. I’m going to test your theory. Maybe not to the full extent—I’m not a complete hooker—but I think a heavy make-out session is in order.”

Her eyes widen. “I said that? You know I give horrible advice. Since when have you ever listened to my words of wisdom? You know I don’t make sense half of the time!”

“I’m fine. Relax.” I spot a cute guy across the dance floor, and I start to walk in his direction.

“London!” my best friend shrieks from behind me.

I turn to face her.

“Don’t do this. Let’s go home,” she pleads with genuine concern in her eyes.

“I have everything under control, Paigey Poo. Never fear, love!” I force a wide smile and continue my path to Rebound Suspect Number One.

The guy, albeit mildly wasted, is putty in my hands. It’s too easy. But what did I expect? I’ve been off the market for a matter of months, not years. The Long Island he bought me goes right down. In fact, I barely taste it.

My head is heavy, and my thoughts are fuzzy, but that’s a good thing. I need a break from my mind right now. Stupid thing keeps trying to remind me of what I lost, trying to make me think abouthim. I’m over it. I’m moving on. Can’t my brain see that?

Rebound Dude holds me in his arms as we sway, I think, to music. Surely, we must be dancing.

What is his name? Mike, Matt, or maybe…Gallagher?

I can’t remember. It doesn’t matter.Rebound Dude, it is.

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