there’s no Wi-Fi here and I have no data, and a website did the math for me. I put in my height and weight, and the site calculated my BMI, which is a number that supposedly corresponds to how much body fat you have.
The science behind it is questionable, but guaranteed to make you feel bad about yourself. Normal weight is eighteen and a half to twenty-five. Obesity is thirty. My number is twenty-seven.
Each pasty in the cart might as well be in the shape of the number twenty-seven, because it’s all I see.
Everything affects me more here, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m away from home, or if it’s because I’ve been left to my own devices for the first time ever. I miss when things were simple, cut-and-dried. When I had time and space to recover, or to hide. When I had Megan to make my decisions for me. To tell me when to push against myself. Everything here triggers the panic in my chest, the tension in every muscle.
I know I should eat something. But I can’t bring myself to order it.
“You know, my stomach is a little upset,” I say. “I might sit this meal out.”
Sophie gives me a quick stare. “You skint? Broke, I mean. I can get you something.”
“Oh, yes, totally, but it’s not that.” I smile so she knows it’s not. “I’m good. Seriously.”
The others don’t seem particularly concerned, except Pierce, who briefly puts his palm on my back before reluctantly ordering a sausage roll.
I drink the water I ordered and zone out, looking through the windows and out into the plaza. As the others finish their lunch, I notice the red, green, and white dragon flag that flies outside a souvenir shop, simply called Shop Wales.
I excuse myself to take a look, and walking through the doors, I’m comforted by the rows of shot glasses, postcards, and flags. Mugs with pictures of the British royal family on them. Soccer jerseys out the ass.
I figure I should grab some souvenirs from each place I visit. Some I can send to my parents or Nana, but some for me too. I will save one from each place to remind me of the trip.
Since I’m trying to keep to a budget, I focus on the cheap postcard section. It’s dull, to say the least. Historic pictures of the town, a million pictures of the castle we’ve yet to see. Nothing here strikes my fancy, as the Brits say—even though I’ve never actually heard them say it. Until I find the tackiest one in the whole shop.
What is love? the postcard asks, followed by an image of a Welsh sheep and Baby don’t herd me. Tacky postcard and a tacky pun that quotes a tacky ’90s song.
Perfect.
Sophie comes in as I’m paying, and giggles out loud at the postcard.
“Real mature,” she says. “Sending that one to your mum?”
“Absolutely not. She hates puns.” I chuckle. “It seems like that group does a lot of traveling. If we keep going on trips, I’d like to have a postcard from each one.”
“Good idea.” She grabs one of her own from the counter.
She’s looking down at the postcard, but I feel the tension in her stance. I place an arm on her shoulder, and bend to look at her face.
“Sorry,” she says. “Lost in thought. Those guys are … nice. Nicer than I expected.”
“Of course they are. What do you mean?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know, they never seemed that way. I’ve been burned before with friendships. I tend to be the one you’re friends with until someone better comes along.”
She’s not making eye contact, but I still look into her face. Megan and I have always been each other’s number one. We have our issues, but I can’t imagine not having that one person. That real best friend.
The Welshman at the register smiles at us as he completes the transaction.
“Diolch.” Sophie smiles as she speaks.
I stare at her, and the cashier chuckles. “Thanks to you too. Glad you like the joke—‘What Is Love’ is a funny song on its own.” He leans across the counter and drops his voice to a whisper. “Did you know Cardiff is the city of love?”
“Is it, now?” Sophie draws out her sentence, while my cheeks burn red.
“No, not really. But I tell all the couples that—it sounds rather nice, don’t you think?”
“The city of love,” she echoes. She turns, her braids fanning out around her, and walks out the door.