Girl Online(59)

But then I met Brooklyn Boy.

And the weirdest thing has happened.

Even though I’ve only known him for a few days, in many ways, in important ways, it feels as if I’ve known him forever.

So, I still don’t know who his favorite band is, or his favorite flavor ice cream, but I do know that I can tell him anything.

And I know that I can cry in front of him and show him my weak side and I know that he won’t judge me at all.

And I know that he can cry in front of me and show me his weak side and I won’t judge him either—it just makes me like him even more.

It’s so hard to try to describe how I’m feeling. The best way to put it is that when I’m with him I feel like I’ve met my matching person.

Like Cinderella and Prince Charming.

Or Barbie and Ken. (Hmm, not sure that’s such a great example but you know what I mean.)

Can any of you relate to what I’m saying?

Have any of you felt this way before?

Do you think he might be my soul mate?

Could I really have been lucky enough to meet the one for me? And not have to go trekking through a rain forest or desert to find him!

Please let me know your thoughts in the comments below.

Lots of love,

Girl Online, going offline xxx

PS: If you haven’t already worked it out, I’m still here—in New York! We’ve been able to stay until New Year’s Day. And we’re staying in Brooklyn Boy’s house!! Fairy tales really can happen





Chapter Thirty-One

After posting my blog, I’m just starting to drift off to sleep when I’m woken by a text alert. My first thought, as I fumble for my phone, is Elliot. But the text’s from Noah.

Did Santa come . . . ?



Oh yes, Bella and I were up at 5:30 emptying our stockings!



Man! I can’t believe you opened them without me! Meet me in the kitchen



Evidence that Noah is my soul mate

1. I am able to cry in front of him.

2. He is able to cry in front of me.

3. Every time I see him it feels as if another part of us is slotting into place

4. It’s like we’re a “matching pair.” (Kind of like curtains but way more romantic!)

5. When he asks me to meet him in the kitchen first thing in the morning, I don’t panic about what I look like with zero makeup and bed-hair. I just pull on my snow leopard onesie and head straight down there.

In the kitchen, Sadie Lee and Dad are combining cooking forces and it smells amazing. Noah is seated at the round pine table in the corner, wearing a baseball top and sweatpants. As soon as he sees me, he gives me an extra-dimply grin and pulls back the chair next to him.

“Merry Christmas, Penny!” he says as I sit down. “Cute outfit.”

“Thank you. I thought snow leopard would be a good Christmas Day look.” I laugh. “Merry Christmas.”

“Penny!” Dad and Sadie Lee chorus, turning from the huge stove to greet me. “Merry Christmas!”

If today were a Christmas movie, then this morning would be the bit where it cuts to a soft-focus montage of super-happy scenes, while “Jingle Bells” plays in the background. All of us laughing and joking and comparing stocking gifts around the breakfast table. Noah and I building a “snow princess” for Bella in the back garden. Dad joining us for a snowball fight. Mum and I helping Sadie Lee peel about a million Brussels sprouts. The only thing that stops it from being totally perfect is that I still haven’t heard anything from Elliot. When I tried calling him earlier, it went straight to voicemail and I’ve sent him four texts. It’s now two o’clock in the afternoon New York time, which means it’s evening in London. Why has he gone all day without wishing me a merry Christmas?

As Noah and I set the dining-room table for dinner, I check my phone for the umpteenth time.

“Is everything all right?” Noah says.

“Yes. I’m just a little bit worried because I haven’t heard from Elliot today.” I put my phone back in my pocket and carry on laying napkins at each place setting.

“Maybe he’s just enjoying his Christmas?”

I laugh. “Not with his parents. Elliot always says that his mum and dad think ‘fun’ is a four-letter word.”

Noah places a pair of Santa-shaped salt and pepper pots in the center of the table. “I’m sure he’ll text soon.”

It suddenly dawns on me that ever since I’ve been here I’ve never seen Noah on his mobile phone. “How come you’re never on your phone?” I ask, instantly squirming for being too nosy.

“I’m on a detox over Christmas,” Noah says with a grin.

I look at him questioningly.

“An Internet and cell-phone detox. You should try it some time. It’s liberating.”

I frown. Much as my experience with the Unicorn Pants from Hell video was unpleasant and hurtful, I can’t imagine life without the Internet or my phone.

“Go on, I dare you,” Noah says. “Step away from the cell phone.”

I laugh. “OK, but if I start twitching or having any kind of weird withdrawal symptoms I’m getting it straight back.”

“Sure.” Noah’s face goes all serious for a moment. “Sometimes I really hate the Internet, you know?”