CHAPTER 19
DRAKE
Tick-tock, tick-tock. I could almost hear the clock ticking away as I stared at the wooden door in front of me. I’ve been standing there for several minutes already, losing grip on what I had rehearsed I was going to say.
My mind was swimming with what-if scenarios, making my heart pound harder with anticipation of the unknown.
Georgia is worth it, I said to myself silently. This was the conclusion I had come to after a few days of mulling over the situation, analyzing our differences and the pathways we were building for our individual futures. All that thinking had made me realize how much I wanted to be with her. What good would my new achievements be if she wasn’t there to celebrate with me?
We haven’t actually broken up yet officially, so I’m assuming that she’s also just cooling off.
But what if she doesn’t want you anymore? A nagging voice whispered in my head. That was something I haven’t thought of yet. I didn’t even want to consider it.
I took a deep breath and whispered, “Well, here goes whatever…”
I knocked several times on the door, not knowing who I expected to see. Then I rang the doorbell too and waited.
A minute or so passed without anyone coming to the door. It rattled me a bit, making me want to back out and just call her first.
I looked down at the thick bouquet of long-stemmed roses in my hand.
Suddenly, the door opened, revealing a middle-aged lady who looked a lot like Georgia. Her brown hair was tied up in a messy bun and she was a little bit sweaty. She had glasses on, too, which reminded me of Geeky Georgie. I flinched at the memory simply because I still felt awful about what I had done on prom night.
“Hi!” the woman before me greeted with an uneasy smile. “What can I do for you?”
She didn’t seem to recognize me, which was fantastic. Nevertheless, I knew it was impossible not to let her know who I really was.
“I’m looking for Dr. Georgia Hill,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m a friend of hers.”
“And your name is—?”
Uh-oh. “I’m, uh, Drake Walton,” I blurted out.
The smile faded from her lips and her eyes narrowed slightly. “Drake Walton, as in the son of Roger Walton of the pharmaceutical company?”
“Yes, that’s the one,” I said casually.
“My daughter Georgia is not around,” she said, seeming to examine me from head to toe. “Can I take a message? Is it important?”
The way she talked meant that Georgia had not mentioned about our relationship yet to her mom. And I was hoping her mother wouldn’t remember me from high school prom night.
“No, it’s fine,” I said politely. “I’ll just try to contact her again. Thank you for your time.”
I was about to turn around when the next words that came out of her mouth shocked the hell out of me.
“Oh, do you know how to reach her in London?” Mrs. Hill asked.
I stopped short in my tracks, frozen on the spot, a dreadful mixture of warmth and cold washing over me. Slowly I was able to turn around. “Uh, did you just say London?” I croaked, my mouth running dry, my eyes probably bulging from their sockets.
“Yes, London,” she confirmed. “Didn’t you know? She left yesterday on short notice. It’s for this huge healthcare and sports medicine research grant she landed. Isn’t that amazing?”
My ears seemed to be on fire, my heart almost exploding. “Yes, amazing,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “You must be proud.”
“Oh, I sure am!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with pride and honor. “My daughter’s finally getting her breakthrough. She’s had these big dreams for so long, and she’s worked hard for them all her life.”
“I’m sure she’ll get to where she wants to be,” I said quietly. “Thank you once again, Mrs. Hill.”
I went on ahead, my every step feeling really heavy that it took a while for me to get to my car.
Once inside, I turned on the engine and slammed on the gas pedal, my head clouded with muddled memories of Georgia. My heart constricted immensely, making me feel like I was running out of breath. It was a miracle I actually got home in one piece.
I wanted to strangle my father. He had not even bothered telling me. But of course he had his reasons. I was starting to suspect that he was doing all this on purpose just to punish me.
I got to my room and punched my pillow hard—over and over again. Tears began to form in my eyes, but I blinked them back.
Suddenly, I began pacing back and forth, trying to clear my mind. “I need to think, to plan,” I mumbled to myself as ideas started to take shape inside my head.
Instead of crying or wallowing in misery and self-pity, I paid Dad’s executive assistant a personal visit at the office. It was a good thing Dad was out of town today. I left the office with a tiny spark of hope in my heart, and went straight home to start packing my bags.