Finding Abbey Road by Kevin Emerson Page B

she says, sounding very American, her face red. “This is what happens when you let a bunch of lit majors loose in London.”
    It occurs to me that, in just a year or two, college me could be here, or somewhere, doing this kind of thing.
    And without betraying my parents!
    A voice inside wonders if I really had to betray them now.
    But yeah, I really did.
    The heavy stew and beer barge through my last defenses, and the pure exhaustion of these last few days starts to drag at my eyelids.
    â€œI think I need to call it a night,” I say.
    â€œYeah,” says Caleb, yawning.
    â€œI’m going to wind down for a little longer,” says Val as we stand.
    Caleb checks his tourist watch. “So, let’s meet by the front door at . . . nine?”
    â€œAffirmative,” says Val.
    Caleb and I stumble upstairs, holding hands. “I wish we were sleeping in the same place,” Caleb says as we reach the hallway intersection.
    â€œOh do you?” I press up against him.
    â€œJust to sleep,” he says, “I swear.”
    â€œI don’t,” I say, putting my face against his neck. “But I am so, so tired. You can dream about me while you’re sleeping with a bunch of dudes.”
    â€œAt least our parents would approve of our sleeping arrangements,” Caleb says. We kiss more, and then he squeezes me. “No matter what we find, it means everything to me that we did this, that you would believe in doing this.”
    I nod against him. We kiss sleepily, and I fight off the urge to crawl inside his skin. Pull away . . . Push him toward his dorm. “Good night.”
    I use the bathroom, then pick my way across the dorm to my assigned bed. With the snoring, the only way to sleep is going to be with earbuds in. I set my music to shuffle, take off my hoodie and jeans, and tuck into the narrow twin bed.
    Orange streetlight draws trapezoids on the walls. I feel like I should consider where I am, just how far away I’ve traveled and why that feels as lonely as it does exciting . . .
    But sleep has me in moments.
    6:55 a.m., Wednesday
    I’m awake by seven, like it or not. Bedsprings are sighing and floorboards are creaking all around me as everyonerises for busy days being tourists. When I finally sit up at eight, I look around and realize that Val is not among us. It doesn’t surprise me. What would, with Val? I think of her sitting down there in the café when we left her last night, and imagine all kinds of scenarios. Teddy was an obvious target for Val’s interest. Or a late-night walk where, knowing her, she’d find a club or a party or something.
    I tie my hair back, take a shower, and head downstairs.
    Val is asleep in an easy chair in the living room. People bustle around her, drinking tea, consulting maps. She’s oblivious to it all. I head down to the café and get us a scone to split, fix two cups of the complimentary tea, and place them on the table beside her.
    â€œVal,” I say, shaking her arm gently.
    â€œMmm.” She half opens an eye at me. “It’s not nine yet.”
    â€œWell, no. I got you a tea, and if you wanted a shower or something . . .”
    Val scowls. “What are you trying to say?” She turns and scrunches herself into the corner of the chair.
    â€œYour friend and I were up chatting pretty late.” Teddy is stepping out from behind the desk and walking over. “When she finally fell asleep I didn’t have the heart to wake her.”
    â€œOh, okay,” I say.
    â€œDon’t worry, I had my eye on her,” said Teddy.
    I look up at him, mostly trying to get my half-awake brain to process what he’s saying.
    Teddy rolls his eyes. “ Not like that.”
    â€œOh, I . . . Sorry.”
    â€œQuite all right,” says Teddy. “This is a pretty plum job for meeting the ladies, I’ll admit.” He holds up his hand and I see a wedding band. “Honestly, all