Maybe (A Thomas Brodie-Sangster fanfiction)

Chapter 20

I finally finished packing my bags when Rachel came storming into my apartment. "Done packing?" she exclaimed, a smile on her face. I nodded and followed her outside.

Her family's minivan was overflowing with bags. Luckily, I'd only have to endure an hour in the car before we would make it on the plane. Excitement flowed through my veins. My brain planned out countless scenarios of when I would see Thomas. If I saw him. Considering London is his hometown, I'm sure he'd be out and about in the city, so finding him wasn't going to be an obstacle.

We crammed ourselves in the car and drove off. I mainly stayed on my phone, listening to music. The hour seemed to go by fast, and next thing I knew, we were at the airport. We hauled our things into the airport and went through the basic security checks. Once we were cleared to move along, we handed our tickets to the clerk and boarded the plane. We stuffed our bags into the overhead compartments and got comfortable. It was going to be a long flight.

After a while, the flight attendant gave us little packages of pretzels which we happily ate. The boredom being too much to bear, I fell asleep.

I woke up and used the bathroom, read some of my book, ate whatever the attendants served us, then fell back asleep. I continued this process for what seemed like forever.

The fifth time I fell asleep and woke up,
I looked out the window and we were on ground. Finally, we're in London. Rachel elbowed me, as if she read my thoughts. "We're here!" she half whispered.

The pilot announced this and told us to leave in an orderly manner, the usual pilot spiel. We gathered our belongings and exited the plane. The view was breathtaking. My mouth hung open in awe. Rachel waved her hand in front of my face, something she does quite often now. "Let's go, we have a hotel to check in at."

We arrived in front of the gigantic building that resembled architecture of the 18th century. "This is a hotel?" I asked in disbelief, "It looks like a haunted mansion."

The only response I received was a pat on the back from Rachel's dad. I looked around myself at the busy sidewalk, hoping that Thomas would just appear in front of my face. I sighed, and stepped into the building.

We settled ourselves down and Rachel's parents were already planning out their week here. I sat in the corner of the room, the only person on my mind being Thomas. I hated myself for that. How could I even be sure if he wanted to see me? Maybe his life was great, and I was slowing him down. I shook my head. Thomas would never suddenly shun me, even if it has been 5 years. I knew deep down that the reason he didn't text/call me for roughly 5 years wasn't his fault.

"So no visiting Big Ben?" Rachel's mother asked looking straight at me, a wave of alarm on her face. I realized that I had shook my head earlier, not meaning anything by it. Just a subconscious action. She must have asked a question and thought I was disagreeing.

"Huh? Oh I mean yes, Big Ben sounds great," I quickly replied. Rachel's moms' frown instantly turned into a smile, and then she continued chattering about the weeks' schedule to her husband.

After some time of waiting around in the hotel room, Rachel's mom finally looked like she had a plan. She clapped her hands together and stood tall in the middle of the hotel room. "Alright everybody!" she exclaimed, the only people in the room other than herself being Rachel, me, and her husband. "The first thing on our agenda; window shopping!"

We made our way through the busy London street, gazing at shops once in a while. We walked in a few here and there. We didn't buy anything major. The people there were very friendly. Londoners are what I think they call themselves.

After a while of window shopping, we decided to have lunch in a coffee shop.

"And what would you like?" the waitress asked in her local accent, orange wavy hair falling just past her shoulders. "I'll just take some coffee, thank you," I replied. She nodded and wrote this down on her notepad, walking back to the kitchen to deliver the orders.

A little bit later she came back with our food and her name tag read: Isabella. Rachel's dad thanked her and off she went. I cautiously sipped my coffee. I did not feel like getting my lips scorched.

We were just about ready to leave when a man came in the door of the shop. My heart skipped a beat when I recognized who it was. Thomas. His same dirty blonde hair and perfect facial structure, except this time he looked a little taller. He leaned over the counter, and Isabella came running from behind it into his arms. Okay, maybe they're siblings, I thought to myself. That possibility was ruled out when their lips inched closer and closer, until they finally shared a kiss.