The sun is high in the sky, and it has just hit noon on Friday afternoon. I’m sitting on the rooftop of the hostel’s building in Wicker Park. London boy finally came back from a party he went to the night before.
“You should keep a blog for your summer,” he says.
“I already have one, actually.” I replied. He then goes on to say “You could write about me,” and gives me a sly grin. Oh, those cheeky Brits. Haha. Then he retreats and says maybe I shouldn’t write about him because then he would have to retaliate and write about me too.
Okay, let me back up and explain how we got to this in the first place. Last Thursday, I walked back to the hostel in the afternoon. It was too hot for me to continue walking around the neighborhood. I came back for a quick break. I sat down on one of the couches in the living room. He was sitting opposite of me and initiated a conversation.
Conversations between strangers start up pretty basic in the hostel. One of you asks how the other’s day has been, where you’re from, why you’re in Chicago, etc. So, that’s how it started between London boy and me. I caught on to his accent and moved over to sit by him. We chatted for a while. The accent alone had me swooning. But I actually enjoyed his company, and he wasn’t bad to look at either. Wow, how typical and cliche of me. What can I say? I’m a girl and can’t help it.
He asks to take my number so we can plan to meet up for drinks later that evening. I give him my number and then go to change clothes so I can go down to Reckless Records and see Real Friends.I run into him at the bus station on the corner of the street after that. He texts me soon after.
Fast forward to when I got back from going out with some others in the hostel. It’s about 11 p.m. and London boy ended up at a party near his old university. Sadly, I won’t be seeing him that night. But early Friday morning, he texted me back and made his way back to the hostel to hangout. We were saying in the same dorm off of the kitchen and living room. We’re both checking out that day but staying in the city. I’m sitting on his bed as he packs, we’re talking. The room is empty and he suddenly leans in to kiss me. I won’t even try to lie, I wanted that to happen.
After we both pack up and turn in our room keys, we headed to the rooftop. That takes us back to the beginning scene of this story. He’s sitting next to me and asking me about my blog. We spent over an hour on the rooftop talking and making out. What can I say? These things just happen. I liked talking to him. I liked kissing him. I knew this was just some hostel fun for both of us while in the city.
But he was also in Chicago the rest of the weekend, and he was the one who took my number. So he asked to see me again before leaving. We had plans for Saturday and everything was fine when he was texting me after I left the hostel.
Saturday came and no matter when I tried to reach him, his phone was dead or turned off the whole day. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t bummed out by this. Some of my friends have been saying my life is like a rom com. Well, if that’s true then the movie doesn’t end where the girl finds her way back to the boy or the boy comes back for the girl.
I also never thought about adding on Facebook yet because we had been texting. All his talk about “exchanging emails, Facebook and even FaceTime” was all just part of the game I bet. Silly boy, ya sure knew how to reel me in.
So, farewell London rooftop boy. I should have known you weren’t sincere in your intentions or efforts. It was just some fun with an American girl before leaving. Despite how earnest you were in everything we talked about, I bet you still only wanted to hookup. Everyone knows how honest I am in my views on that subject.
So this is for every girl who has fallen so easily for the British accent and charm a lad from the U.K. can so easily work. Girls, they’re hot, and the accent is swoon worthy. But we still have to be careful. I love all things English/European in general. I found myself getting semi attached to this guy just because of cliche factors like: accent, London, rooftops and some good conversation. Someone slap me before I blindly start making out with a British guy again. Also, someone keep me in check if I start swooning. Same goes for you other girls.