big ben

via
"Is that it?"

We stood, hand in hand, in front of the big clock. Chet's mouth had dropped open, and he was just staring at it. "He's okay," he said at last, wriggling his fingers out of mind because it was pretty awkward.

"Who? Big Ben?" I snickered, knocking his shoulder with my fist. My hair blew in my face, covering my sight for a moment with a wave of auburn strands. Although, technically my hair was more of an auburn-blonde-brown. What was that called? Flaxen?

"Yeah, Big Ben. He's okay." Chet smirked, wiping his brow and pushing back his backwards baseball cap. "He could be bigger."

"Yeah, he could be prettier, too." I kicked a pebble in the street, and it bounced across the pavement until it accidentally hit a cab that inched by. Chet laughed at me as the cabbie glared.

"He could be stronger, probably." Chet squinted in the sun.

"And he could be made more useful."

"Say, let's tear him down when we become millionaires, Genevieve, and build something better."

"I don't think London would allow that." I sat down on the sidewalk, sighing as my feet relaxed. "Besides, he is rather ... well-known."

"But we will own London then, when we're rich," Chet argued. He bit his lip as two giggling British girls walked by, staring at him. I squirmed because nothing like that ever happened to me. Not that I want girls staring at me, of course, but I mean guys. I did have eyes like Jennifer Lawrence after all. Chet said so.

Though, come to think of it, I wasn't exactly comfortable with a hundred strange guys staring at me.

"Genevieve. Earth to Genevieve." My best friend nudged my shoulder. "Where are you?"

"Nowhere," I said, pretending I had been staring at Big Ben. "I was just admiring his good looks."

"You just said he could be prettier." Chet cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, he could." I licked my lips. "Say, Chet ... is my hair red or brown?"

Chet snorted, but he was used to my rather random questions. "Both."

"Oh."

"I like it."

"Oh." My voice was a bit cheerier there. "Shall we go onward?"

"Of course." He whistled a cab, but it ignored him and kept driving. "What an idiot. Hey, Viv, how do you get to Baker Street?"