“He’s not always the most obvious in showing he cares. But Noah can be quite thoughtful in his actions.” Helen smiles warmly.
“He’s always been about the small things,” Gene agrees, nodding.
The small things.
“That does sound like Noah,” I admit, trying to stop feeling so uncomfortable. “I think he probably is the most thoughtful person I know.”
“He’s good about figuring out what you need,” Gene replies, buttering his toast as I go to the pantry, pulling out the new jar of almond butter and one of the bananas, taking them back to the table.
“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Helen asks, stealing a bite of Gene’s toast.
The toast reminds me of the night I spent at Harry’s.
Lying in bed with Noah and Harry, eating and talking.
Waking up the next morning, wrapped up in Harry’s arms.
I instantly flush, thankful Helen isn’t as powerful as Mohammad believes and can’t read my mind.
“Well,” I say, clearing my throat, “I have a ton of homework and studying. Tomorrow is my Latin test, and our statistics project is due. And Tuesday, my art project.” I open up the jar of almond butter, sliding a spoonful across my toast.
“Were you taking Latin at your school in New York?” Gene asks.
I shake my head. “No. I was—am in French. So, I’m doing my best to follow along. Mohammad has actually been a big help.”
I cut up the banana, putting it on top of the almond butter, and drizzle some honey on it.
I take my first bite, my eyes practically rolling in pleasure at the deliciousness.
“Mohammad’s never been the most driven student. I’m glad he’s been able to help you,” Helen confides.
“Me too. I was also considering taking your advice. I think I might reach out to Naomi today. See if she might be interested in hanging out.”
“Oh,” Helen coos, rising up from the table, dropping her newspaper. She walks around, pulling me into a hug. “That’s wonderful,” she tells me, obviously having a proud mom moment.
I can’t help but smile and hug her back.
“Thanks,” I whisper, pulling away.
Gene’s looking at us, confused. He just sighs before his eyes land on the French press. He pours two cups of coffee, handing one to Helen and me, before clearing his plate.
“Have you seen Noah this morning?” he asks.
I nod. “Yep, I did.” Unfortunately. “I saw him in the bathroom. He is up and at least has brushed his teeth.”
“Probably playing those video games,” he mutters.
“He deserves a little down time, doesn’t he?” Helen asks, pointing her gaze at Gene.
I sit back, remaining quiet, not wanting to get involved.
“He does,” Gene concedes, his lips pulling into a straight line.
“Don’t worry. After breakfast, I’ll have him start on his homework, so you two can get to the pub this afternoon.” Helen smiles, and Gene’s face softens as he places his hands on her shoulders, kissing her head.
“What was that about?” I ask after Gene’s moved out of the kitchen.
“Oh,” Helen says, swatting her hand through the air, “it’s nothing. I think Gene just misses spending time with Noah. And with Mia gone, he’s probably more aware of it. They typically spend Sunday afternoon watching football at the pub.”
“That’s nice they’re able to spend time together,” I admit, my face softening.
“It’s very important,” Helen agrees. “Family is everything.”
“Helen, can I ask you about Harry?” I say, my mind flicking back to him.
Helen pulls in her cheeks, her gaze slipping down to her coffee in front of her. “What do you want to know?”
“What is going to be done about … it?”
“Did Harry tell you anything yesterday?” She sighs, and I sense she’s not sure what to say. She doesn’t want to betray Harry’s confidence, and I hope that’s not what I’m asking her to do.
“Things after Noah’s game yesterday were terrible, honestly. Harry told everyone he got into a fight. I was so upset about everything. I couldn’t stand to listen to him lie. But then we talked later, and he told me that he was sorry. That he didn’t know what else to do. He said that you two are going to talk to his mom.”
“That about covers it. Harry called last night when Gene and I were out. He called his mom yesterday and asked her to come home. He’s going to let me know when she’s there, so we can all talk.”
I nod, feeling surprised. Why didn’t Harry tell me last night that he had called his mom? Why am I finding out today from Helen?
But I guess the better question is, why am I asking Helen and not Harry?
I let out a heavy breath, realizing this is exactly why I didn’t want to be Harry’s girlfriend yet. We’re close, but there are always things I feel like I don’t know. Things that he hasn’t kept from me but hasn’t shared either.
“I’m glad you two made up. You seemed … worn down last night,” Helen adds, sensing my distress.
“I am too. Harry’s important to me.”
Helen nods, pulling her newspaper back up in front of her, our conversation apparently over.
I clear off my plate and then go upstairs and give Harry a call. But first, I text Mohammad, asking for Naomi’s number. A second later, he replies, so I add her as a contact and open up a new text.
Me: Hey, Naomi. It’s Mallory from school. Look, I really could use a day out of the house and some girl time. I’m down for anything. Any ideas?
I hit Send, hoping that she’ll take pity on me and reply.
While I wait for Naomi to hopefully respond, I decide I’ll call Harry.
I hope he isn’t home alone, dreading the conversation to come with his mom.
“Hello?” Harry answers.
“Hi.” I smile into the phone. “How are you?” I ask, relieved to hear his voice.
“I’m good. Just at the house.”
“Not with Mohammad?” I ask, wanting him to be the one to tell me.
“Nah. Apparently, Mum’s coming home from her trip today. Figured I should be home when she gets here.”
“Do you want me to come by?” I ask, wanting to support him.
I can hear Harry breathe into the phone, but then he responds, “No. I need to do this on my own.”
“All right,” I say, trying not to sound hurt.
“You wanted to be here for me,” he says, and I can hear the happiness in his voice.
“Of course I did. You can depend on me, Harry.”
After last night, I want things to be different with us. I want him to depend on me more, to really let me in.
“I know, babe,” Harry replies. “Your support, it means a lot.”
“Good.” I smile. “If you need anything, just let me know, all right? And I’ll be there.”
“How about I ring you tonight? Let you know how things go?”
I grin, feeling my heart practically burst with his words. “I would really love that.”
“You’re so chuffed,” he says, laughing into the phone.
“Of course I am happy. I’m talking to you. Harry, can I ask you something personal?”
“What?” Harry responds.
“Are you scared?”
I’m hoping he doesn’t take the question the wrong way.
He’s quiet for a moment, but he finally says, “I’m not scared. But I don’t know how things are going to go either.”
“At least Helen will be there with you,” I say, wanting to comfort him.
“Yeah, I’m hoping she does most of the talking. But even if not, I’m sure Mum will put two and two together when she sees my face,” he says, his voice straining.
“It’s going to be hard, Harry. But you can do this. I promise. I-I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now.” I feel my stomach start to knot up.
“Yeah. Mohammad wasn’t too happy about me leaving his
place this morning. Everyone just seems so concerned for me. It’s freaking me out a bit. I wish everyone would just act normal.”
“It’s because we all care, Harry. But how about a new topic? You know, I was thinking the other day, there’s this super-cute boy I’m dating. And you see, I’m starting to wonder if he’s ever going to ask me out for a hot date night or if I’m going to have to ask him out myself.”
I smile to myself, hoping he appreciates the change of conversation.
“Really …” Harry starts, almost sounding taken aback. But I can already tell he’s going along with it. “What a silly man, leaving a woman floundering like that. I can’t believe that he hasn’t taken you out on a proper date yet! What would you say, by chance, if he asked you out for Tuesday night?”
“I think I would probably ask him what he had in mind,” I reply, laughing. And I silently cheer for myself.
Because Helen would be proud that I’m making him work for it. Honestly, I would be happy, sitting and just talking with Harry, but maybe this will give him something else to think about. Something to look forward to.
“Maybe he wants to surprise you,” Harry coos.
“Or maybe he needs time to come up with a date idea,” I counter.
“No. It couldn’t be.” He tries to sound convincing but just ends up laughing.
“I thought not,” I reply, laughing along with him. “Harry, I appreciate you talking to me. Being open. I’m really looking forward to our date.”
“I am too,” he admits. “What do you have going on today?”
“Homework, homework, and some more homework. I need to study for Latin and finish a statistics project.”
“You’ll ace it, babe.”
“I think you have unfounded faith in me,” I reply, knowing I will definitely not ace it.
“Just ask Noah to do it for you. He’s too smart in maths to keep that shit to himself. I’m sure he’ll help,” Harry tells me.
“Yeah,” I say, feeling awkward at the mention of Noah. I quickly change the subject. “You know, I messaged Naomi—”
“No shit,” Harry interrupts.
“Yeah, well, Helen suggested it. She said if I wanted a girlfriend, I needed to put in some effort. And apparently, her advice worked because I just got a message back from Naomi. She wants us to get our nails done?” I say, reading the text.
“That’s … nice?” Harry says.
He’s probably not sure if I’m excited or not, and truthfully, I don’t know how I feel about it either. I was thinking we might see the city, go to the park, hang out at her house. But I guess if it takes a nail salon to bond us, it will have to do.
“Well, hopefully, it is.” I laugh. “And I’m secretly hoping that if we become friends before you tell Olivia that we are dating, Naomi might still talk to me after Olivia reinstates her hatred of me.”
“Speaking of that,” Harry says, “I should probably ring her and take care of that conversation now before Mum gets home.”
“You’ll have a lot to catch me up on tonight,” I say, thinking about all of the important conversations Harry has pending.
“Can’t think of a better way to spend my Sunday,” he says sarcastically.
“Bye,” I say.
“Bye, babe.”
After Harry hangs up, I look back over the text that Naomi sent me. She said to meet her at Avon Nails around one. It’s only eleven, so I decide to start studying for Latin. I hide in my room, making flash cards of the words I’m supposed to memorize and the grammar rules I’m supposed to know. When it comes to studying, I’m the queen of prep. I love making flash cards and study sheets.
But when it comes to the actual studying … I get so bored.
The task of preparing can be fun and distracting, but actually studying … not as much.
Helen brings me up a sandwich, checking in on me. After studying for a good hour, I feel like my brain is already fried, and I decide to get ready instead. I take my time with putting on my makeup, and then I choose a black mini, a long-sleeved top, and thigh-high boots.
And since I have the time, I give my hair a little wave.
When I’m ready, I look myself over in the mirror, feeling excited to hang out with Naomi.
I want to leave a little early, giving myself plenty of time to get there. I have to take the tube, and I need to go down into the station to buy a card to use to get on and off. I’ve only taken the tube a few times, but New York has a similar subway system, and I know I’ll be able to manage it on my own.
When I leave my room, Noah’s coming up the stairs. He slows his steps, looking over me when he gets into the hallway. I have on boots that come up over my knees, but Noah’s eyes easily find the exposed skin past the hem of my skirt.
His eyes slip further up me, and I swallow hard, feeling frozen under his gaze. But then he dips in his brows and crosses his arms.
“Where are you going?”
“Out. Obviously,” I reply, widening my eyes at him, already annoyed at his mood. Because who does he think he is!
His brows pull in further, and he glares at me.
I cross my arms too, wanting to show him that he can’t just interrogate me.
“Cool,” he says, his face softening.
And it takes me by complete surprise. He slips past me, going into his room. I stand there for a second, staring at the empty spot where he was just standing.
“Yeah, well, I’m actually going to hang out with Naomi,” I say, following him into his room.
I’m frustrated because Noah already looks disinterested. And I know I should be glad, but his possessive attitude mixed with indifference is infuriating.
“Are you crazy?” He takes a step closer to me, tensing.
“I am not crazy.” I scowl at him. “I think we’re going to get along actually.”
“Right.” Noah snorts. “You have to know that this is going to cause more drama.”
“No, it’s not,” I counter. “Naomi is nice. And sweet.”
“And she’s Olivia’s best friend. You could literally pick anyone else. Why do you have to be friends with her?”
“Why are you so worked up about this? She’s nice, and we have a class together. That’s it.”
Noah pushes his hand through his hair while I scan his face. He looks upset, and part of me wants to reach out to him. But the other part of me wants to scream at him.
“I just don’t want the drama. I thought that would be done after yesterday,” he says.
And my stomach instantly drops.
“Noah, I’m looking forward to this. I have no idea how it will go, but I want to move past everything with Olivia too,” I admit.
Noah pulls his lips to the side, looking away from me. And I can tell he’s thinking.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll have fun then,” he finally gets out, connecting his gaze with mine.
The way his dark eyes linger on mine sends butterflies through my stomach.
And I know that I have to squash them.
I rip my eyes away from his, taking a step back because I need the space between us.
“Thanks. And where are you off to today?” I ask, noticing he’s in jeans and a sweater.
“To the pub with Dad,” he says, a smile forming on his lips.
“You excited?” I ask, grateful for the change of subject.
“We always have a good time.”
“Well, I should probably go,” I finally say, turning toward his door.
But something stops me.
And it’s Noah.
He takes my arm in his hand, pulling me back toward him and into a hug.
I stand motionless, completely shocked.
“I’m sorry. I was being an ass,” he says, causing my arms to seemingly act of their own accord, wrapping around him, hugging him back.
“I don’t want drama either.”
Noah holds me tighter. My hands move across his shoulders. Then, all of a sudden, I’m rubbing his back, my ha
nds having a mind of their own.
I try to stop them. I really do. But I can’t.
Noah lets out a soft moan, tucking his head down next to mine.
I instantly flush, my body reacting. I press my fingers deeper into his skin, my nails digging in.
Noah’s palms press flatly against my back and then move down my back to my butt, causing me to bow toward him.
Goose bumps rise across my skin when he stops at my tailbone, dragging his hands back up.
His hands are warm but firm.
He presses into my hips, pulling me even closer.
Then, I realize just how close we are. How our stomachs are touching. How lots of parts are touching.
“Fuck,” I barely whisper, trying to peel myself off of him. I force my fingers to let go of his skin, taking a step back.
Noah’s eyes are glazed over, his mouth slightly open. His gaze moves from my lips up to my eyes.
“I, uh … I need to go,” I say, standing straight as a board. I keep my mouth closed and try to look composed.
“I do too,” he admits, rubbing his hand down the back of his neck.
I nod, knowing that I have to get out of his room.
I slip past him, rushing down the stairs.
“Bye, guys,” I call out to Gene and Helen, who are both seated in the living room.
Helen is reading a book while Gene is typing on his computer.
“Bye,” they say back as I practically fly out the front door.
The second I’m out of their sight, I take a moment to try to relax. But it doesn’t work. Not even the cool air helps. Because my mind is going wild.
I definitely like Noah.
At least, my body does.
But the thing is, I know that what I’m feeling is wrong.
Because I care about Harry.
I really like him.
Things have just been so intense with Noah. He’s so hot and cold. Either hate or hug.
And it has to stop.
Because I think if that stops, so will these crazy, wild emotions I’m feeling.
I like Noah, but I want to be with Harry.
And Harry has made it clear that he wants to be with me.
I just need to stop letting whatever Noah says or does get to me so much.
London Prep: Book Two Page 2