Forever (h.s.)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3: Flashbacks

        That afternoon, I was curled up on my bed, talking to Fiona and trying to explain my episode from earlier that day. After an hour of probing questions and unfinished answers, I finally broke down and just told her the truth.

        "Oh. My. Lord. He's so romantic!" was her first initial reaction. "Sarah, if I came to London would I find someone like Harry?"

        "It's a definite possibility," I replied, giggling.

        "Crap, I have to go," she said. I heard muffled sounds of voices and Fiona's front door in the background. Then, all of a sudden, her tone grew serious. "Why'd

you have to go to London? I'm having a bunch of girls over and it won't be the same without you here."

        I sniffed, feeling my eyes tear up a little. "I'm sorry. I miss you too. Bye."

        "Bye." The line went dead and I wished I had Harry there to cheer me up.

        I sat in bed for what seemed like hours, both my parents at work and the house to myself. I looked around me at the fancy English decor and the beautiful view of London out my window and started thinking about how I ever ended up in a place like this.

        "Sarah, we have amazing news." My mum and dad had reeled me in from school early to tell me something, and I was frankly a little nervous.

        "Well, you know how my poetry book is going really well, right?" I nodded. Ever since I urged my dad to share his amazing work with the world, it had been an instant success and we'd never been better off.

        "Well, he was offered a job in...London! We're moving to London!"

        "What?!" I cried. Leave my school, that I had just started getting used to, my friends, my life??? "Are you crazy?!"

        "It's a wonderful opportunity, Sarah," my dad crooned.

        "And you'll finally get to leave the country!" My mum, always there with a nice unneeded comment.

        "This is insane. You're kidding right?" I said, my voice shaking. "Good one."

        The next time I was on a plane, it was going straight to London.

        I sighed, remembering how hard it had been on me, changing the school, life, and even accents around me in a month. But I adjusted pretty quickly, and when I met Harry was when it started all falling into place.

        I was just walking along a busy London street when I stepped into a coffee shop, unaware that it would change my life even more that it had been over the past few months, and forever afterwards.

        "A...chai latte, please," I told the friendly waitress, who smiled a little at my accent but scribbled on her pad and moved on.

        I yawned, idly turning the page of my magazine, but not really interested in it's contents. I had gotten up waaaaay to early this morning, due to all the crazy newscasters who busted into our house to talk to my dad at 5:30 am.

        I looked up at the sound of a particularly wonderful British accent and a gust of cold wind from the doorway. And there, at the counter, was the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my life.

        He had luscious, dark curls tumbling all over the place, perfect, creamy skin and mysteriously dark green eyes. On top of that he had on a Jack Willis sweatshirt and jeans, and was shivering from the cold. It was spring, but early spring, and the bite of winter still remained.