you take this one?”
Dad puts the slide show on pause. “Well, they’re in order, so that would have made it the second day of the trip.” He looks at the photo up on the screen. “That
is
a nice sunset, isn’t it? See how the sky is all pink behind the buildings? It almost matches the neon of the signs on the other side.”
But I’m not looking at the sunset or the signs. I’m staring at a guy about five feet behind us, casually leaning against the statue, but staring right into Dad’s camera. If that was taken on the second day, then it was a full four days before I actually met him at the Tower. I’d thought I might not recognize him, but my heart races as I look at the random stranger with the curly hair and sharp brown eyes lounging in the background of the photo. Griffon.
Four
“I don’t know where the camera is,” Kat says. “It’s probably still in my carry-on bag—like most normal people, I don’t unpack my suitcase the second I get home.” She shoots me a look as she heads toward her room, but I don’t want to get into it with her right then. I’ve waited up late for her to come in, alternately glad that I have a photo of Griffon and totally freaked out that he’s there at all. Maybe it
is
just a coincidence. After all, lots of people go to the tourist spots in London. Happens all the time. And then we met him at the Tower because that’s where he was staying. I’m just going to tell myself that over and over until I believe it.
I follow her to the back of the house, lowering my voice so as not to wake Mom. “Well, can I see it?”
“What’s the hurry?” Kat kicks her shoes off and flops down on her bed.
“I … I just want to compare your shots with some that Dad took, that’s all,” I say.
She studies me for a second. “All right,” she says, hauling herself back off the bed. “Let me see if it’s in here.” She rummages through her bag and tosses the camera case to me. “But don’t delete any. I’ve got some good shots of Owen in there that I want to put up as a screen saver.”
Owen. “Have you talked to him?”
“He’s been messaging me.”
“So he knows how to get ahold of you?”
She looks at me funny. “Yeah. Why? He’s a totally hot guy. A totally hot Scottish guy. You never know when he’ll end up on this side of the world.”
Of course she’d be in touch with him. Why haven’t I thought about that before? There’s a glimmer of hope stirring somewhere down deep. Owen is only one step removed from Griffon. I hesitate, but I have to ask. “Does he ever talk about Griffon?”
“Sometimes. I know that they’ve been friends forever. I guess Griffon went home right after we did, but he gets to go back during the summer.” Kat smiles. “I wish we could go back this summer. Do you think Dad can get another business trip to London? That would be so cool.” I can see that she’s already imagining herself with Owen in a chic London flat along with two impeccably dressed blond children sporting adorable British accents.
I turn the camera on and try to sound like I don’t really care. “Do you think he ever talks about me?”
Kat puts her arm around me, but it feels more condescending than sisterly. “You really liked him, didn’t you? Those curls wereamazing. Made you want to run your fingers all through them.” She looks over my shoulder at the camera display. “No. I don’t think he mentioned you. At least, Owen didn’t say anything.”
Something about the way she glances away from me tells me she’s lying. Maybe Griffon did mention me, but not in a way she’d be in a rush to talk about. I shrug. “Not like I really knew him or anything,” I say. “We only hung out for a little while.”
“Yeah,” Kat says. “You didn’t exactly meet him on your best day.”
I don’t answer, just start flicking through the photos, searching the backgrounds for any sign of Griffon. There’s Kat at Buckingham Palace, Kat on the London
Dad puts the slide show on pause. “Well, they’re in order, so that would have made it the second day of the trip.” He looks at the photo up on the screen. “That
is
a nice sunset, isn’t it? See how the sky is all pink behind the buildings? It almost matches the neon of the signs on the other side.”
But I’m not looking at the sunset or the signs. I’m staring at a guy about five feet behind us, casually leaning against the statue, but staring right into Dad’s camera. If that was taken on the second day, then it was a full four days before I actually met him at the Tower. I’d thought I might not recognize him, but my heart races as I look at the random stranger with the curly hair and sharp brown eyes lounging in the background of the photo. Griffon.
Four
“I don’t know where the camera is,” Kat says. “It’s probably still in my carry-on bag—like most normal people, I don’t unpack my suitcase the second I get home.” She shoots me a look as she heads toward her room, but I don’t want to get into it with her right then. I’ve waited up late for her to come in, alternately glad that I have a photo of Griffon and totally freaked out that he’s there at all. Maybe it
is
just a coincidence. After all, lots of people go to the tourist spots in London. Happens all the time. And then we met him at the Tower because that’s where he was staying. I’m just going to tell myself that over and over until I believe it.
I follow her to the back of the house, lowering my voice so as not to wake Mom. “Well, can I see it?”
“What’s the hurry?” Kat kicks her shoes off and flops down on her bed.
“I … I just want to compare your shots with some that Dad took, that’s all,” I say.
She studies me for a second. “All right,” she says, hauling herself back off the bed. “Let me see if it’s in here.” She rummages through her bag and tosses the camera case to me. “But don’t delete any. I’ve got some good shots of Owen in there that I want to put up as a screen saver.”
Owen. “Have you talked to him?”
“He’s been messaging me.”
“So he knows how to get ahold of you?”
She looks at me funny. “Yeah. Why? He’s a totally hot guy. A totally hot Scottish guy. You never know when he’ll end up on this side of the world.”
Of course she’d be in touch with him. Why haven’t I thought about that before? There’s a glimmer of hope stirring somewhere down deep. Owen is only one step removed from Griffon. I hesitate, but I have to ask. “Does he ever talk about Griffon?”
“Sometimes. I know that they’ve been friends forever. I guess Griffon went home right after we did, but he gets to go back during the summer.” Kat smiles. “I wish we could go back this summer. Do you think Dad can get another business trip to London? That would be so cool.” I can see that she’s already imagining herself with Owen in a chic London flat along with two impeccably dressed blond children sporting adorable British accents.
I turn the camera on and try to sound like I don’t really care. “Do you think he ever talks about me?”
Kat puts her arm around me, but it feels more condescending than sisterly. “You really liked him, didn’t you? Those curls wereamazing. Made you want to run your fingers all through them.” She looks over my shoulder at the camera display. “No. I don’t think he mentioned you. At least, Owen didn’t say anything.”
Something about the way she glances away from me tells me she’s lying. Maybe Griffon did mention me, but not in a way she’d be in a rush to talk about. I shrug. “Not like I really knew him or anything,” I say. “We only hung out for a little while.”
“Yeah,” Kat says. “You didn’t exactly meet him on your best day.”
I don’t answer, just start flicking through the photos, searching the backgrounds for any sign of Griffon. There’s Kat at Buckingham Palace, Kat on the London
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