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FInding it - Chapters 1-7

FInding it - Chapters 1-7

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Published by WilliamMorrowBooks
Sometimes you have to lose yourself to find where you truly belong . . .

Most girls would kill to spend months traveling around Europe after college graduation with no responsibility, no parents, and no-limit credit cards. Kelsey Summers is no exception. She's having the time of her life . . . or that's what she keeps telling herself.
Sometimes you have to lose yourself to find where you truly belong . . .

Most girls would kill to spend months traveling around Europe after college graduation with no responsibility, no parents, and no-limit credit cards. Kelsey Summers is no exception. She's having the time of her life . . . or that's what she keeps telling herself.

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Published by: WilliamMorrowBooks on Oct 08, 2013
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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11/15/2013

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1
E
 veryone deserves one grand adventure, that one time inlie that we always get to point back to and say, “Then . . .
then
I was really living.” Adventures dont happen when youre worried about theuture or tied down by the past. They only exist in the now. And they always,
always
come at the most unexpected time, inthe least likely o packages. An adventure is an open window;and an adventurer is the person willing to crawl out on theledge and leap.I told my parents I was going to Europe to see the worldand grow as a person (not that Dad listened beyond the sec-ond or third word, which is when I slipped in that I was also
1
 
going to spend his money and piss him o as much as pos-sible. He didn’t notice). I told my proessors that I was going to collect experiences to make me a better actor. I told my riends I was going to party.In reality, it was a little o all o those things. Or maybenone o them.Sometimes, I just got that strange niggling sensation atthe back o my mind, like the insistent buzz o a mosquito,that I was missing something.I wanted to experience something extraordinary, some-thing 
more
. I reused to believe that my best years were allbehind me now that I’d graduated rom college. And i ad- ventures only existed in the now, that was the only place I wanted to exist, too. Ater nearly two weeks o backpacking around EasternEurope, I was becoming an expert at just that.I trekked down the dark city street, my stiletto heelssticking in between the cobblestones. I kept a tight hold onthe two Hungarian men that I’d met earlier in the evening,and we ollowed the other two in our group. I guess, techni-cally, I had met them last night, since we were now into theearly hours o morning.For the lie o me, I couldn’t keep their names straight. And I wasn’t even drunk yet.Okay . . . so maybe I was a
little
drunk.I kept calling Tamás, István. Or was that András? Oh well. They were all hot with dark hair and eyes, and they knew our words in English as ar as I could tell. American. Beautiul. Drink. Dance.
cora carmack
2
 
 As ar as I was concerned, those were the only words they needed to know. At least I remembered Katalin’s name. I’dmet her a ew days ago, and we’d hung out almost every nightsince. It was a mutually benefcial arrangement. She showedme around Budapest, and I charged most o our un on Dad-dy’s credit card. Not like he would notice or care. And i hedid, he’d always said that i money didn’t buy happiness, thenpeople were spending it wrong.
Thanks for the life lessons, Daddy.
“Kelsey,” Katalin said, her accent thick and exotic.Damn, why couldn’t I have one o those? I’d had a slight Texastwang when I was younger, but my years in theatre had all butbeat that out o me. She said, “Welcome to the ruin bars.”Ruin bars.I paused in ruing István’s hair (or the one I called Ist- ván anyway) to take in where we were. We stood on an empty street flled with dilapidated buildings. I knew the wholedon’t- judge-a-book-by-its-cover thing; but in the dark, this place was straight out o a zombie apocalypse. I wondered how to say 
brains
in Hungarian.The old Jewish quarter.
That’s
where Katalin said we weregoing.
Oy vey.
It sure as hell didn’t look to me like there were any barsaround here. I took in the sketchy neighborhood, and thoughtat least I’d gotten laid last night. I I was going to get choppedinto tiny pieces,
at least 
I’d go out with a bang. Literally.I laughed and almost recounted my thoughts to my com-panions, but I was pretty sure it would get lost in translation.
finding it
3

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