Geek Abroad (6 page)

The phone rang then.

“That’s probably Henry now,”Sadie said brightly. Before I could stop her, she plucked the portable phone up off of a sideboard. “Hello,”she said. “Oh, hello, Henry. Miranda was just about to call you. Yes, she’s finally back. Can you believe she got lost walking home from the Tube stop?”

Sadie stopped twittering on for a moment to laugh gaily. My heart gave a great lurch. It felt like it was trying to tunnel its way out of my chest cavity via my throat.
What? What were they laughing about? Me?

“Yes. Yes! I know,”Sadie chortled.

“Mom,”I hissed, and made a grab for the phone.

“Wait a minute, Miranda’s right here, and she’s
dying
to talk to you,”Sadie said. “Hold on, here she is.”

I grabbed the proffered phone from Sadie’s hand, while simultaneously fixing her with the evilest evil look I could muster. I may have zero dating experience, but even I know you never tell a guy you’re dying to talk to him. It makes you look desperate and sad. I wasn’t interested in Henry—at least, that’s what I kept telling myself—but I still didn’t want him to think I was swooning around over him like a lovesick moron.

Sadie just looked amused at my annoyance.

“Teenagers,”she said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes heavenward, as she turned and strolled back to the kitchen.

I kept my hand over the phone until she was safely out of ear-shot, and then took a deep breath, and said, “Hi. It’s me.”Then, as though he could possibly have me confused for someone else, I added, “Miranda.”

I braced myself for his response. I knew he’d probably tease me for getting lost. It’s what I would have done, had our positions been reversed. And I also knew that if he did, it would bother me immensely. I was cold and tired, and up until a few minutes ago, had been very, very scared. Irrationally scared. I wasn’t just worried that I wouldn’t find my way back to Sadie’s tonight, I was worried that I would be lost
forever
. That no one would ever find me. That I’d spend the rest of my life wandering the streets of London.

My fears sounded silly and overblown now that I was in Sadie’s safe, snug house and my body was slowly defrosting. But the after-effects left me feeling prickly and on edge, and not at all ready to be teased about my ordeal.

But Henry surprised me. He didn’t tease me about getting lost, and he didn’t tell me I should have let him walk me home. Instead he said, “So what’s 9,528 times 1?”

And I couldn’t help it: I laughed.

Chapter 6

Dex didn’t e-mail me the next day, nor the day after that. I tried not to let it bother me. In fact, I tried not to think about him period. After all, I had plenty to keep me busy. True to her word, Sadie cleared her schedule to spend the days leading up to Christmas with me. We went to the National Gallery to look at priceless works of art, took high tea at Brown’s Hotel, and drove way out into the countryside to see the standing stones of Stonehenge, which were really very cool in person. We decorated the short, fat Christmas tree Sadie had ordered with tinsel and round metallic-hued balls, and even baked little mincemeat tartlets topped with pastry stars.

But the truth was, the more I tried not to think about Dex . . . the more I thought about him. I found excuses to check my e-mail ten times a day, and every time I saw that he hadn’t written, a thud of sour disappointment would settle in my stomach. And then I brooded over his silence.

Had I somehow misinterpreted it when he kissed me? I didn’t think I had, but, then again, guys weren’t exactly predictable. Who knew what they were ever really thinking, or why they acted as they did? I’d heard the stories: girls who were left bitterly confused after the guy who had swept them off their feet suddenly stopped calling without a word of explanation.

It’s just, Dex didn’t seem like the sort of guy who would do something like that. He’d always seemed so nice and so thoughtful. Or was that exactly what every girl who’d been abruptly stood up also thought?

I was fretting over this possibility late Saturday morning, after checking my e-mail and yet again finding my in-box empty, when the phone rang. I picked up the extension Sadie kept on her desk.

“Hello,”I said.

“Miranda? Hi, it’s Henry.”

“Hey, Henry,”I said. Despite the pledge I’d made to keep my distance from Henry, I was pleased to hear from him.

He’d called two days earlier to invite me to get together with him and a few of his friends. I truthfully told him that I couldn’t—that was the afternoon that Sadie and I went to Brown’s for high tea—and he’d been nice enough about it, although I could tell he was disappointed. Which was, of course, hugely flattering. And made me seriously consider relocating to London. Less than one week here, and I already had a cute guy calling me. I’d spent almost sixteen years living in Orange Cove, and—other than my one kiss with Dex—I’d gone completely unnoticed by the local male populace.

“What are you up to today? Have you wrangled an invite from the queen yet?”Henry asked.

I laughed. “No. Her Majesty hasn’t returned my calls,”I said.

“In that case, a few of us are getting together to go see the new Bond movie this afternoon. Care to join us?”Henry asked.

I hesitated only for a moment. I was on my own that afternoon. Sadie had an editorial meeting and some last-minute shopping to do. She’d told me not to wait on her for dinner. And it wasn’t like Henry was asking me on a date. It was a group thing.

“Sure, that sounds like fun,”I said.

“Brilliant,”Henry said.

We made plans to meet in front of the movie theater, which was in walking distance of Sadie’s house. I knew where it was—Sadie and I had passed by it a few days earlier on the high street—but Henry gave me very specific directions.

“Don’t worry, I won’t get lost this time,”I said.

“I’m not worried,”he said. “But why don’t you take down my mobile number just in case?”

When I got to the movie theater, Henry was waiting outside for me. He was wearing faded Levi’s and a navy peacoat that made his eyes look even bluer than usual, and his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink from the cold. Henry grinned when he saw me.

“You made it,”he said.

“I’m not
always
lost,”I said.

“Good to know. Shall we head in?”

I looked around, surprised. “Aren’t we meeting your friends? Or are they already inside?”

“Actually . . . neither. Joseph said he wasn’t feeling well, and Oliver’s mum made him go to his granny’s for dinner,”Henry said. His voice was casual, but he glanced away as he spoke.

“Oh, that’s too bad,”I said. “I wanted to meet your friends.”

“We can get together another day. You’re here for a bit longer, right?”

“Until January third,”I said.

“So you’ll be around for New Years’,”Henry said.

I nodded.

“Excellent. Then you’ll be able to come to the party at my house,”Henry said. “My parents have one every year.”

“Sounds like fun,”I said. I noticed that there was a line queuing in front of the ticket booth. “We should probably buy our tickets.”

“I already got them. I bought them online,”Henry said.

“Let me pay you back,”I said, pulling my wallet out of my coat pocket.

But Henry waved me off. “Don’t worry about it.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “You can get the popcorn,”he said.

We went inside, and I purchased an extra large tub of popcorn and two sodas, and then Henry and I made our way to the theater where our movie was showing. The movie theaters in London worked differently than they did back home; instead of picking which seat you wanted when you went inside, you were assigned a seat when you bought your tickets.

“But what happens if you don’t like your seat? Or if someone really tall sits in front of you?”I asked. “Can you move?”

“Sure. It’s not like the seat assignments are enforced by a police presence,”he said.

“There isn’t a Movie Special Ops?”

“Not that I know of. If they exist, they must be top secret,”Henry said. “One of those government agencies that you need clearance to even know about.”

It wasn’t until we were sitting down and companionably digging into the tub of popcorn that it occurred to me: Henry and I were on a
date
. At least, I thought we were. After all, he’d asked me to go to the movies with him, and he’d bought my ticket. Maybe his friends really did back out at the last minute. . . . But maybe they were never really planning on coming in the first place.

I wished for the ten zillionth time that I had more experience in guy-related matters. My stepsister, Hannah, might not be able to calculate the square root of the number one, but she’d certainly know whether or not she was in the middle of a date with a cute guy. And right about now, her brand of genius would really come in handy.

After the movie, Henry and I went to Pizza Express for dinner. We each ordered our own pizza—I had the Quattro Formaggi and Henry ordered something called Il Padrino, which turned out to be a pizza covered in chicken, tomatoes, and vegetables. Henry didn’t seem horrified that I ate as much, if not more, than he did, which was another point in his favor. I’m not one of those girls who can eat a few lettuce leaves and pretend I’m stuffed.

“Did you like the movie?”Henry asked as we ate.

“It was great,”I enthused. “I especially liked the chase scene with the helicopter, the high-speed train, and the motorcycle. How about you?”

“Yeah. I thought it was brilliant,”Henry said. “I really want one of those pens that double as a grappling hook.”

“Because you have a pressing need for grappling hooks here in London,”I teased him.

“Hey, you never know when you’re going to have to scale the side of a building.”Henry folded his slice of pizza and took a big bite. He swallowed before speaking again. “Look at James. He got a lot of use out of that thing.”

“Yes. Although, to be fair, he was chasing down an evil oil tycoon’s henchmen after they tried to kill him with a high-tech laser gun,”I said.

“Well, yes, if you’re going to argue semantics,”Henry said. “So, give me your top three bad guys.”

“In real life or fiction?”

“Fiction. It’s less depressing.”

I thought about it for a few minutes. “Well. The White Witch from
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
would be on my list,”I said, thinking of Peyton, who bore more than a passing resemblance to that cold-blooded witch. “And the Queen from
Snow White
. Actually, all of the evil stepmothers. Cinderella had a nasty one, too.”

“I’m sensing a theme,”Henry deadpanned.

I grinned at him, and then inspiration struck. “Number three is Hannibal Lecter from
Silence of the Lambs
,”I finished triumphantly.

“Not bad, not bad,”Henry said. “I would put Hannibal on my list, too.”

“Who else?”

Henry pondered this. He took his top-three lists very seriously, and wasn’t one to rush in with a slapdash answer.

“The possessed girl from
The Exorcist
. She was seriously creepy. And Voldemort from the Harry Potter books. Although the book version of Voldemort, not the movie version,”he said.

I shrugged and nodded. That was a given. “I think your list is better. Maybe I should rethink mine. Top three heroes?”

This time Henry didn’t hesitate. “That’s easy: Indiana Jones, Han Solo, and Bond, James Bond,”he said.

“Han Solo? Really? I thought Luke was supposed to be the hero in
Star Wars
,”I said.

“Luke was a prat,”Henry said firmly. “Although to be honest, the best character in that movie was Boba Fett. Boba Fett was the ultimate in cool.”

“Cooler than James Bond?”

Henry had to think about that. “I don’t know. It would be a close call. On the one hand, Boba has the Wookie-pelt cape and the wrist-mounted flamethrower.”

“I’m not even going to ask how it is you know that,”I said.

Henry ignored me. “But Bond gets all the cool MI gadgets and the hot girls,”he said.

“So you’re torn between a hot girl and a Wookie-pelt cape?”I asked.

Henry shook his head definitively. “No, you’re right. I’d totally go for the Wookie-pelt cape,”he said.

“What is it with guys and Boba Fett?”I asked. “My friend Finn is a total Boba Fett freak. I even gave him a Boba Fett T-shirt for his birthday.”

“They have Boba Fett T-shirts in America?”Henry exclaimed. When I nodded, he whistled. “It truly is the land of opportunity.”He hesitated, looking down at his pizza for a minute. “So . . . this Finn bloke. Is he your boyfriend?”

“God, no,”I exclaimed, and shuddered at the very idea of being romantically involved with Finn. It’s not that Finn is unattractive—I suppose he has his charms—but he was
Finn
. We’d been friends for so long that it was impossible—and frankly a bit creepy—to think of him as anything else. Besides, while brilliant and extremely funny, Finn has no moral center. “We’re just friends,”I said firmly.

Henry coughed and looked embarrassed. “Do you have a, um, boyfriend?”he asked.

I thought about Dex and our kiss and how he hadn’t sent me a single e-mail in the week since I’d gotten to London.