What Happens in London

by Jen McConnel

  “Average?” I echoed, sure I’d heard her wrong.

  She nodded. “I can help you look, if you like.”

  Tentatively, I smiled. “I would really like a dress. I’m celebrating my birthday this weekend.”

  The saleswoman smiled. “We’ll find the perfect thing.”

  ~

  She ended up being right. True, there wasn’t much that fit me in the discount section, but when the saleswoman materialized with a poison-green belted dress that reminded me of something Marilyn Monroe might have worn, I didn’t mind spending a little extra. Okay, a lot extra. The dress was over a hundred pounds, but I’d never looked so pretty in anything in my life. Even if Carson couldn’t take me to Amsterdam because of his aunt, I reasoned as I carried my bags through London, at least now I knew that it was possible for me to look really, really good.

  The saleswoman had tried to talk me into a pair of gold heels to go with the dress, but when I explained that I was traveling, we compromised on a pair of flat sandals. They laced partway up my ankle, like a cross between gladiator shoes and old hippie sandals, and I loved them.

  Despite the new dress, my good mood wavered when I got back to the hostel. I still had a few hours to wait until Carson came by, and I started worrying about what he’d say. He’d seemed so distant in the bookstore earlier; had he changed his mind about me? It wasn’t like we’d said we loved each other or anything, but he’d been treating me like I was pretty special to him. I chewed on the inside of my lip as I climbed the stairs to the dormitory. What if he’d had second thoughts about me, now that he’d seen me mostly naked? “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” My dad’s voice pierced my mind, and I frowned, shaking my head.

  Suddenly, the beautiful dress and new shoes seemed like a huge waste of money. Carson probably wasn’t even going to come by tonight, let alone take me to Amsterdam. I’d been so stupid to believe in the fantasy that a guy could ever really be interested in me.

  “Stupid, stupid,” I muttered, tossing my shopping bags on my bed. The dormitory was empty except for me, and I sank down onto the floor under the window. Maybe it was time for me to let go of whatever stupid thoughts I’d had since meeting Carson. It wasn’t like I was ever going to see him again.

  A tear slipped down my cheek, and I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them tight. But I wanted to see him again. I’d never felt this way before about anyone; Carson had been my first real kiss, and a part of me still sort of wished he would be my first in other ways, as well. He had been so sweet; surely, that hadn’t been an act.

  Before I could get myself even more worked up, something smacked into the window over my head. I jumped, startled, and scrambled away from the wall. Another metallic cling sounded behind me, and I crept cautiously toward the glass. A third stone hit the window, and I peeked outside, confused.

  Carson was standing on the street across from the hostel, his arm pulled back to throw again. He spotted me in the window and waved, and I felt myself starting to smile. I waved back, wiping my tears, and tried to push aside my worries as I ran downstairs to meet him.

  “You came!” I said, as I hurried across the street, but when I stood in front of him, I hung back uncertainly.

  He stepped forward and kissed me, and the last of my fears melted away. “Of course! I said I would, didn’t I?”

  I nodded, holding him tight. “You were just a little strange at the bookstore earlier. I worried that—”

  He cut me off by kissing me again, and I pressed my lips to his hungrily. “Are you worried now?” he whispered as he pulled his face a few inches away.

  I shook my head, smiling. “No.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to worry about anything.”

  I nestled against him, tucking my head underneath his chin. “You’re good to me.”

  “And I’m going to keep being good to you. Did you still want to go to Amsterdam?”

  I looked up at him, surprised. “Of course. But I thought your aunt . . .”

  Carson tipped his head back and laughed. “I had to say something to get out of the next few days of work! I don’t even have an aunt that I know of.”

  “You lied?”

  “Only for you, darling. I can’t let you down on your birthday.”

  I smiled up at him, my fears forgotten. “When do we leave?”

  “First thing in the morning. We’ll fly over; is that okay?”

  I nodded. “Whatever you want.”

  His blue eyes were serious as he looked at me. “What I want,” he said slowly, “is to make sure you have a birthday you’ll never forget.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Despite trying to haggle with the woman who’d given me the key to the hostel dormitory, I couldn’t get any of my prepaid money back, even though I’d only been there for half the week. It wasn’t that much money, but still, it was annoying. When I came back to London after the weekend in Amsterdam, I was so finding another place to stay.

  I sort of hoped I wouldn’t run into Joelle or the other girls; after what Joelle had said about not trusting Carson, I just didn’t want to deal with her. But as I climbed the stairs to the room to pack my stuff, I ran into Rachel on the stairs. She was decked out in another sparkly top, and she grinned when she saw me.

  “Are you coming with us tonight?”

  I shook my head. “I need an early night. Carson and I are going to Amsterdam in the morning.”

  She raised her eyebrow. “Sounds romantic! Have fun, if I don’t see you before you leave.” Rachel leaned forward to give me a quick hug, and I squeezed her back.

  “Thanks. You have fun, too.”

  I passed her on the stairs. When I stepped into the dormitory, Joelle was standing in the middle of the room, struggling to tie a wrap skirt around her waist. She looked up when I walked in and gave me a weak smile.

  “When do you leave for your trip?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Uncomfortable silence descended between us. Finally, Joelle sighed. “I really hope you have fun. But seriously, call me whenever you want. Maybe we could travel together if you get tired of Carson.”

  Her tone was light, and I forced a smile. “Maybe.”

  She left to join the other girls, and I pulled my new dress and shoes out of their bags. I held the green dress up to my body and looked down, smiling. This was going to be a fabulous birthday.

  I repacked my bag, making sure I pulled out the sock with my money and checked it. It was still there, and I sighed in relief. Burying it once more in the bottom of the bag, I tucked my things under the bed. The noise from the bar downstairs drifted through the floor, but even if it had been a quiet country night back home, I don’t think I would have been able to sleep. I was too excited for the trip with Carson. Still, I set the alarm on my phone and stretched out on my bed. The springs squeaked once in protest, but they quieted as soon as I was horizontal.

  My mind drifted, and I wondered what Carson would say if he ever saw my parents’ trailer. We lived in the double-wide Mom had inherited when grandma died, but it wasn’t even in a trailer park. It sat, isolated, out on acres of country land, near enough to the state line that I had gone to elementary school in South Carolina, but middle and high school in North Carolina. It hadn’t been a bad place to grow up, despite my dad, but Carson seemed way too cool to understand life in the sticks.

  Other than talking about our dads, we hadn’t really discussed our lives before. Did he have any brothers or sisters? Was that normal, I wondered, for a couple to not talk about their past? Only if the past isn’t worth talking about, I guess. Folding my hands on top of my stomach, I tried to focus on my breathing. I really did need to sleep; I wanted to look my best for our trip the next day.

  ~

  The flight was surprisingly fast; I think we were in line at Heathrow’s security longer than we were in the air. When we landed, Carson insisted on carrying my bag as well as his. “You’re the birthday girl,” he said with a smile. �
�Get used to being spoiled.”

  I grinned back at him. “I guess I’ll try. Even though my birthday isn’t officially until tomorrow.”

  “Still. I don’t know what kind of pathetic celebrations you’ve had for the past eighteen years if you think you only get to be spoiled on your actual birthday.”

  I flushed. “Birthdays weren’t really a big thing in my house. Mom said they just made her feel old, and Dad . . .” I trailed off, and Carson bent down to kiss me gently.

  “Don’t worry about your dad. He’s not here.”

  I kissed him back, nodding. “Thank you.” Still, I felt a hollow pit in my stomach; I could just imagine what my dad would say if he knew I was running around Europe with a boy. I tried to push his angry voice out of my mind, but I was subdued as we walked out of the airport terminal into the sunlight and caught a gleaming train into the city.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Amsterdam was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen. The canals reflected charming houses and buildings as we strolled along the streets, and every single person we passed was more fascinating than the last. My favorites were a man in a smart business suit with a Mohawk, a woman walking a poodle who’d been dyed pink, and a teenage girl in a ball gown and elbow-length gloves. I couldn’t stop staring, and Carson laughed at me.

  “Do you love it?”

  I nodded, speechless.

  He grinned, interlacing his fingers through mine. “It’s a great city for freaks and artists.” He dropped his voice to a purr. “And lovers.”

  My palms started to sweat, but Carson didn’t let go of my hand. I glanced up at him, suddenly shy. “Carson, I—”

  Before I could figure out what I was going to say, he stopped my words with a lingering kiss.

  When I finally broke away, my body was on fire. “We should go back to the hotel.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I cringed. “I mean—”

  He raised his eyebrow. “I didn’t think you were in a rush, Sarah.”

  I flushed and stuttered, “No, but I’m—it’s hot. I want to change. I bought a new dress,” I finished lamely.

  His eyes lit up. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  ~

  I changed fast, and I was sort of disappointed that Carson stayed in the hall. Still, my heart was pounding as I looked in the mirror in our small hotel room. We’d only booked one room, and the double bed almost entirely filled the space. When we finally went to sleep . . . I truncated the thought, noticing the nervous blush on my face as I studied my reflection. I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. Part of me was a little bit terrified, but I was mostly thrilled at the idea of whatever might happen with Carson that night.

  “Still,” I told my reflection, “just because you’re sharing a bed doesn’t mean you have to actually sleep with him.”

  The face in the mirror smiled back, a slow, secret smile that made me shiver. In my new green dress, I felt bold, unlike the Sarah I’d been all my life. Maybe nineteen really would be the year everything changed. Smoothing my skirt, I gave it a little twirl before I walked out to meet Carson.

  He was leaning against a wall in the hotel lobby, and I had a chance to study his lean frame for a moment before he noticed me. When he saw me, his eyes got big and he straightened up fast. “You look amazing,” he said, his voice breathy as I walked toward him.

  I linked my arm through his. “You like?”

  In response, he kissed me. “Very much.”

  I giggled. “I feel like a new person in this dress.”

  “You are a new person. It’s almost your birthday, remember.”

  A wide smile stretched across my face. “Then let’s celebrate!”

  We walked out into the purple twilight, and Carson let go of my arm to wrap his hand around my waist. His thumb was pressed almost directly under the side of my breast, and I shivered at his touch. After turning down a few narrow streets, we made our way to a strip of restaurants and shops. “What looks good to you?” Carson tipped his head toward the street, and I looked around.

  “Anything. Everything!”

  He chuckled, the sound low and throaty. “Tonight could definitely be a night for everything.”

  ~

  Dinner was amazing. We ordered oysters and champagne, and so many other dishes that I’d never even heard of. Carson was feeding me tiny spoonfuls of creamy custard with candied berries on top when the waiter appeared at our table, clearing his throat.

  He bent down and spoke to Carson in a hushed voice, and I strained to hear what he was saying. I caught the words “problem” and “card” before Carson nodded to the waiter and sat back, looking pained. The waiter disappeared, but I noticed him hovering nearby with a frown on his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Carson shook his head. “Um, well—”

  I looked at him expectantly, and he put his head in his hands.

  “Shiite. Sarah, I am so sorry.”

  His voice was muffled, and I patted his back, rubbing my hand in small circles across his hunched form. “Is there something wrong with your credit card?”

  He glanced up at me. “Yeah. God, I feel like an ass.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve got cash with me; it’ll be fine.”

  Carson shook his head. “It’s your birthday dinner. I should just go back in the kitchen and see if I can work it off or something.” He glanced at the glowering waiter and lowered his voice. “Or we can see if we could slip out the bathrooms or the back.”

  “Seriously, Carson. I can pay. How much was it?”

  Wordlessly, he handed me the bill, and my eyes bulged.

  “How in the world did we spend three hundred euros on dinner?”

  Carson shrugged, looking miserable. “We were celebrating. I really thought I had enough on my card to cover it, but I guess the hotel and the flights maxed me out.”

  I sighed, the rich meal curdling in my stomach. “Okay. We’ll fix this.”

  I slid out of my chair and went over to the waiter. He frowned at me expectantly.

  “I’ve got cash,” I told him haltingly, “but it’s in British pounds. Is that . . . can we make that work?”

  He started to shake his head.

  “But it’s my birthday!” I exclaimed, suddenly desperate.

  The waiter cocked an eyebrow skeptically, and then he sighed. “How old are you today, then?”

  “Nineteen.”

  He glared at me a moment longer, and then he said, “Let me see what I can do.” He held out his hand, and I passed him a fistful of money.

  I slunk back to my seat to find Carson slouched back in his chair, looking dejected. “This is so embarrassing.”

  I wanted to hug him or say something nice, but truth be told, I was sort of upset. “You shouldn’t have done this if you couldn’t afford it.”

  “But I wanted to show you how special you are, Sarah.” He reached across the table for my hand, and I let him take it. We sat there in uncomfortable silence for an eternity before the waiter returned and gave me a tight smile.

  “The manager says that it is all right, just this time, but he wanted me to let you both know that you will not be welcome in this establishment in the future.”

  I gulped. Did he have to say it so loudly? In humiliation, Carson and I nodded and left the restaurant. We were silent on the walk back to the hotel, but before we went inside, Carson stopped.

  “Look, this isn’t how I planned for this trip to go down.”

  I nodded, but I didn’t meet his eyes. “I know.”

  “And I totally understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”

  I risked a glance up at his face. “I don’t know what I want.”

  “I can get a different room tonight, if you think that would be best.”

  A harsh laugh bubbled up in my throat. “With what money?”

  Carson dipped his head, ashamed. “I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

  I studied his face, and finally, I leaned up on my t
oes and kissed him on the cheek. My lips brushed close to his mouth, but I didn’t linger, as much as I wanted to. “I guess it’s okay. We’ll just have to be a little less extravagant for the rest of the trip.”

  He looked down at me, surprised. “The rest of the trip?”

  I nodded. “You’ve already paid for the hotel, right?”

  He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

  “And we’re here. We might as well enjoy ourselves.”

  Carson brought his arms around me and tightened his embrace. “Sarah, you’re too brill for words. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

  “Nothing.” I kissed him again, this time letting our lips meet. “Absolutely nothing.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I changed into my pajamas in the bathroom. When I came back, Carson was propped up in the bed, his sketchbook open on his lap. He looked up when I walked in, and his eyes lit up appreciatively.

  “I like those,” he gestured to my hot-pink shorts.

  I tugged on the bottom of the shorts, wondering why I’d never noticed just how short they were before. “They were on clearance.”

  Carson smiled. “You’ve got great legs. You should show them off more.”

  I snorted and slid under the covers beside him. “They’re huge.”

  He leaned over and kissed my shoulder, exposed by my tank top. “They’re beautiful. Just like the rest of you.”

  My skin tingled at his touch, but I was still upset about what had happened at dinner, so I pulled back. “Were you thinking of drawing?” I gestured to his book.

  He shook his head. “No. I was just looking at some of my old sketches.” He dropped the book off the side of the bed. “I’ve got more important things than art on my mind.”

  For a moment, neither of us moved. Then I exhaled sharply, and Carson looked away.