“Around noon or one.”
She scans the itinerary. “Maybe we can rearrange this. I know you don’t care about this.” She draws a line through one of the bullets on her beautifully written itinerary. “Or this.” Another swipe.
“But—” I reach out to stop her.
“And we’ll move all this down here.”
Dev leans over Sage’s arm to examine her new scribbles. “But we’re arriving into King’s Cross specifically because it’s close to the British Library.”
“You better still leave time for Platform 9 ¾,” Huan interjects.
I look at him, surprised. “I didn’t know you were a fan.”
He shrugs. “I’m not really, but I do love Daniel Radcliffe. And I’d rather take a cheesy picture with a trolley than spend an extra hour at museums.”
“You guys don’t need to change your whole plan,” I say. “I’m the one messing everything up.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she says. As if she doesn’t care that she spent multiple precious study hours working on this schedule.
I sit back, my throat suddenly tight. I can’t imagine Crystal ever changing her plans for me. “Thanks,” I whisper.
“He better make it worth your while, though,” Huan says.
“I have a feeling he will. He says he wants to make it up to me.”
Huan nods approvingly.
I risk a glance at Dev. “Looks like you really know how to tutor after all.”
“Maybe I should start charging for my services.”
“You’d make a killing,” I reply awkwardly.
I stare out the window to break the tension. When I turn back a minute later, Dev’s eyes are still on me.
Chapter
21
When we arrive at King’s Cross station, I’m immediatelyoverwhelmed in the best possible way. People are going in every direction. There are backpackers with bags almost as long as they are, looking haggard and happy and very cool. There are people in extremely fancy suits, parents with children, elderly couples. Different languages swirl around me, amplified by the modern domed ceiling. I adore everything about it. We all stand there, wide-eyed and grinning, and the tension from the train is immediately forgotten. There’s no time to think about anything but the awesomeness of London.
We head toward Platform 9 ¾ first, but there’s already a huge group of tourists waiting for their turn to take pictures with the luggage trolley.
Sage shakes her head. “We’ll do it on the way out. If we’re going to see Big Ben together, we need to move.”
We follow Sage through the complicated procedure of buying transit tickets and finding the right Tube line. I’ve used the DC metro system a lot, but there’s something so much more adorableabout the London Underground. Everywhere I go there are signs reminding me toMind the Gap. I know it’s about the most touristy thing I could do, but I’m definitely buying aMind the GapT-shirt before I leave England. Maybe two.
We make it across the city quickly and as soon as we exit the Tube station, we see Big Ben.
It is breathtaking. And tall.
The entire area is so quintessentially...London. Which is dumb becauseof courseLondon looks like London, but this feels like they took all the biggest icons of the city and crammed them together for tourists to enjoy. We allow the crowds to steer us toward Big Ben while taking in the mammoth Parliament building that borders the Thames River. Beyond that is Westminster Abbey and across the river is the London Eye, a ridiculously huge Ferris wheel. There are even fancy black cabs and red double-decker buses driving past. It’s like we’ve been dropped in the middle of a postcard.
After a minute of gawking, Sage pulls out her itinerary and scratches something off. “Great! Okay, next on the list—”
“Wait!” I grab her arm. “Are you crazy? We can’t leave yet. It’s picture time!” I force everyone to smoosh together and take selfies with Big Ben in the background. Dev keeps making stupid faces and Huan tickles me so that I’m a laughing blur in the photos instead of smiling and normal. After a moment’s hesitation, I post one anyway. I may look like a dork, but at least I’m a joyful dork surrounded by awesome people.
Next we wait in line for Westminster Abbey. Inside, Sage makes a beeline for Charles Darwin’s grave and then Isaac Newton’s. Itturns out there are an outrageous number of famous people buried here. The mood of the visitors in the abbey is a strange mixture of reverence and excitement as they find their “favorites” and whisper around their tombstones, which are embedded in the walls and even the floors. Walking over graves that are set into the ground makes me wish the soles of my shoes were cleaner.
