London Prep: Book Two

by Dodd, Jillian

  “Like what?” Noah says, glancing at me.

  “Like … sing to you. Or give you some type of cheer dance. Will I have to play one of those video games with you?”

  Noah scrunches up his nose. “I think I’d rather accept the apology than be put through all of that,” he says seriously, but then he smiles.

  “Probably a wise choice.” I chuckle, knowing that I’m terrible at all three.

  And apparently, Noah knows that too.

  He stands up, extending his hand down to me. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels like he’s asking me a question with it.

  Do I take his hand?

  Or do I just get up on my own, staying frustrated and distant?

  I take his hand.

  I have to.

  “I have detention after Yoga,” I say, realizing that I’m probably already late. And that I’ve likely given our instructor another reason to hate me. “But I’ll see you after at the pub, right?” I look up at Noah, keeping his hand in mine.

  He nods his head, his brown eyes on me. “Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He lets go of my hand, and we both turn back around the corner. I head to the locker room while Noah walks farther down the hallway to the guys’ changing room.

  My stomach feels like it’s all twisted up, but I push the feeling aside.

  I focus on stripping off my uniform, throwing on my yoga clothes, and sprinting to class.

  I barely make it, sitting down onto my mat with a huff.

  Amy’s eyes are on me, probably because I’m already breathing heavily and we haven’t even started our workout yet.

  I glance around, taking in the other girls in class.

  And suddenly, I remember.

  Olivia isn’t here today.

  And I wasn’t actually late to Yoga. Which means that I can’t be in trouble and I don’t have to deal with Olivia or her negative energy.

  I suck in a breath and hold it, attempting to slow down my heart rate.

  When I let it out, I try to let go of everything.

  Noah and I are okay—at least, for now.

  But he was so upset. And seeing him pace and look hurt, knowing that I made him feel that way …

  I’d pushed the guys at lunch to come down on him, and it was wrong of me.

  It was mean.

  I didn’t think that I was the jealous type, but I guess what I told Noah was right. I felt like we had secrets again. I felt like we had been so good before, and suddenly, Sophia was going to come in and ruin all of that. I’m not even sure why I thought that in the first place.

  Over and over, Noah has told me they aren’t more than friends.

  But I continue to push him.

  Maybe part of me wishes they were. Because then at least, I wouldn’t be the only one with mixed feelings.

  I shake my head, ridding myself of the thought.

  Amy starts our class, and I try to relax into the poses. But everything on me still aches like this morning.

  I generally just feel like crap.

  And maybe it’s because I’ve been crappy to Noah today.

  Or maybe it’s because I haven’t had the most regimented routine.

  My body doesn’t do well when things are up in the air or when I don’t do things consistently.

  Maybe that’s what I need.

  A plan.

  After the first part of class and our break, I finally feel all of my worries slipping away.

  My muscles get loosened up, and I push into the stretches with ease.

  When Amy announces that we’re done for the day, I can hardly believe Yoga is over. I walk into the hallway, blinking a few times as my eyes adjust to the harsh lighting.

  But I feel better.

  A lot better.

  I get changed back into my uniform and make my way to detention.

  Distraction from reality.

  Detention

  “Hey,” Harry says, leaning against the wall outside of detention.

  “Hi.” I grin, walking up to him. My hands instantly slip around his waist, and I look up at those blue eyes.

  “How was Yoga?”

  “Actually calming without Olivia.” I laugh, pushing my body against his.

  I can’t help it.

  I wrap my arms around him tighter, trying to absorb his comfort.

  Harry pinches my chin, tilting my head up so I’m looking at him again.

  “You’re just a snuggler today,” he says, his face soft.

  “I guess I am. Is that all right?” I ask, pulling back a little. Because I don’t want to be clingy.

  Harry doesn’t answer me.

  He just brings me back against his chest, hugging me.

  “I’m guessing that’s a yes,” I whisper against him.

  I inhale his scent, letting my fingers press in around his waist and work their way up to his firm back.

  “You’ve been a little off today,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me into the classroom.

  We’re the only two in detention today, and I take a seat in a desk a few rows back. Harry sits on the desk, looking down at me. I want to tell him that everything is fine. That he’s seeing some amount of sadness that isn’t actually there.

  But that’s not really true.

  “I talked to Noah before Yoga. He was pretty upset.”

  Harry’s face flashes with concern. “About what?”

  “About lunch. I think he felt a little … attacked. I think I overdid it on the Sophia stuff, and he was not happy about it.”

  “Noah’s not normally one to blow up about shit like that,” Harry says, his lips pulling into a flat line.

  “I think I maybe just hit a soft spot. The whole virginity thing,” I admit, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

  Harry glances at me, his forehead creasing. “Why didn’t he say something to me? Or fuck, even Mohammad? I mean, we were the ones teasing him.”

  “I think he was upset with me because we have the whole virgin thing in common. I guess if anyone could relate to him, it would be me.”

  I search Harry’s face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking.

  He nods vigorously, like he finally understands. “Well, fuck me. This has to be sorted right away. I’ll make sure to talk to him about it at the pub.”

  “Do you think that will be awkward? I mean, the fact that I told you?”

  Harry shakes his head, taking my hand.

  But I’m not convinced.

  “It’s not really your personality though. To care about that stuff,” I argue. “I mean, generally, comments roll off your tongue, and then it’s gone from your mind. Not in a bad way, just … I don’t want to make it worse by breaking his trust either.”

  “Mallory,” Harry says, his eyes on me, “you’re right. Usually, I wouldn’t notice or say anything. But with Noah, it’s different. If something is off, I’ll make sure to get it straightened out.”

  I nod my head, agreeing.

  “Thank you.” I smile, feeling better.

  “What I’m here for, babe.” He grins.

  “Is that it?” I tease, biting my lip.

  “Well, apparently, I don’t do too bad of a job at pleasing you either,” he says, licking his lips. “You know, I could smell you in my bed all night.”

  “Really?” I breathe out, feeling my body tingle.

  “I want to see you tonight,” he says.

  “In bed?” I ask, looking at him.

  “Obviously.”

  “I don’t want to be your distraction from reality.”

  “Silly girl,” Harry says, rubbing the back of his fingers against my cheek. “You are my reality.”

  His eyes stay on mine for a long time, and I feel every emotion in his words. But then he drops his hand and takes a seat, pulling out a notebook as the teacher leading detention walks in. She’s followed by a few other students who scatter themselves across the classroom.

  I try to focus on my homew
ork, but all my mind seems to be able to think about is Harry.

  About how he’s not only able to leave me breathless, but also help me.

  He cares how I’m feeling, and he’s willing to listen and help fix things.

  He’s there for me.

  And in ways I never imagined he would be.

  Jump around in lingerie.

  5:15pm

  “Come on,” Harry says with a grin, pulling me through the doors of the pub.

  I step inside, letting my eyes adjust to the darkened interior.

  Harry moves in front of me, starting to weave his way through the pub when I stop, yanking his arm.

  He turns back, tilting his head. “What?”

  “This is where we met,” I say, looking around.

  It’s a lot less busy than the first time I was here, but there is a fair amount of chatter that gives the pub a distinct warmth.

  “Reminiscing?” Harry smiles.

  “Mmhmm,” I agree. I connect our gaze for a minute but then press into his arm, urging him to go farther into the pub.

  We easily find Noah and Mohammad seated at a round table. Their backpacks are tossed on the floor beside them, like they dropped them the second they sat down.

  “Hey.” I smile, taking a seat, but I notice they’re in a deep discussion.

  “You really think so?” Noah asks, looking directly at Mohammad.

  I glance over to Mohammad, wondering what they’re talking about.

  “For sure.” He nods. “Highgate is going to be hard to beat.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “We’re talking about who is going to win the football match on Saturday,” Noah says.

  “Kensington is playing Highgate, who has got a killer team,” Mohammad adds.

  “Do you think you can win?” I ask Noah.

  He finally looks at me, thankfully not seeming mad anymore. “It will be a tough match, but I think we can do it.”

  “Course you can,” Harry says, slapping his hand down onto the table.

  Noah grins at him, his face brightening at the encouragement.

  “It won’t be easy …” Noah starts, but Harry just waves his hand in the air.

  Harry ushers Noah up, throwing his arm around his shoulders. “Any requests?” Harry asks, looking between me and Mohammad.

  “Chips and an orange fizzy, please,” Mohammad says and then turns to me.

  “Uh …” I shrug, not sure what they even offer on the menu.

  “We’ll order you something,” Noah comments as they walk to the counter.

  “So, am I going to get to meet your family when they get back?” I ask Mohammad.

  “You want me to unleash the terrors on you?”

  I nod at him. “I would love to meet the terrors.”

  “You can come round for dinner. I’m sure everyone would love that,” he admits.

  I glance across to Mohammad, taking in his sweater and jeans.

  “Why aren’t you in your uniform?” I ask, looking down at myself.

  “I came from tennis.”

  “Shit,” I say, realizing that only Harry and I are still in our uniforms. I look over my shoulder, taking in Noah. He has on jeans and a sweatshirt, looking even more casual than Mohammad. “At least today was my last detention.”

  “Relieved?” Mohammad grins, his pearly whites coming out.

  “You have no idea.”

  Noah and Harry walk back to the table, both grinning.

  I take in their beaming faces as they sit down, my own eyes lighting up.

  “What?” I ask, curious as to why they’re both so smiley.

  “Nothing,” Noah says, sinking into his chair.

  But when I look to Harry, he shoots me a wink.

  I smile, knowing that he must have already talked to Noah, making sure everything was good.

  And from the looks of it, it is.

  “So, what are our plans tomorrow night?” Noah asks, scooting his chair in closer to the table.

  “When exactly does your family get back?” I ask, looking at Mohammad.

  “Dad phoned and said not until Sunday,” he says, looking a little defeated.

  “You seem sad,” I say, studying his expression.

  He shrugs. “What can I say? I sort of miss the little terrors. They’re annoying and loud, but every once in a while, they can be sweet.”

  “Aw,” I coo, pulling Mohammad into a hug.

  “Don’t get excited,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

  “Well, any chance we could get your aunt to leave you home alone for the night?” I ask, throwing the idea out there.

  “Definitely not,” Mohammad says vibrantly. “If you thought my mum was mad, my aunt’s even worse. She would have all of our heads. Harry, what about you?”

  Harry shrugs, glancing over at me. “Let’s just chill at my house. Something small.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I ask, wondering how he’s going to get away with it. Or why he would want to chance it.

  “Why not? Mum will be gone. Dad will be with her.”

  “A house party.” Mohammad grins, nodding his head. “I could get on board with that.”

  “I don’t know about a party …” I interject.

  “Why not? Invite whoever,” Harry says to Mohammad.

  “I’ll work on the ladies,” Mohammad says, his face brightening.

  “Well, I’ll be there.” I smile at him. “Plus, Naomi, if that’s all right.”

  Harry nods.

  “No offense, but you don’t exactly count toward the ladies’ head count,” Mohammad says, causing my mouth to drop open.

  “What?” I say, offended.

  Noah lets out a deep laugh, his eyes sparkling.

  “I need possible hook-up options,” Mohammad replies.

  “Whatever,” I mutter.

  “Ah, just ignore him,” Noah cuts in. “He’s just upset about last night.”

  “Rightfully so, I think,” Mohammad says, scowling at Noah.

  “Can you blame the man? Two beautiful women under one roof,” Harry adds, shooting me a wink.

  “Come on. It wasn’t like one of your wet dreams come to life. We were fully clothed the whole time,” I say pointedly. “We didn’t jump around in lingerie, have a pillow fight, or kiss one another, just to giggle after.”

  I look to Mohammad, whose mouth is hanging open, and sigh.

  “See, that’s my kind of sleepover,” he replies, his eyes almost glazed over.

  The bartender brings over a bowl of soup and three baskets of fries, setting them down onto the table.

  “Cheers, mate,” Harry says, digging into the fries.

  “Soup’s for you. It’s mushroom,” Noah comments, sliding the bowl toward me.

  But a second later, Mohammad is dunking a handful of fries into it. He shoves them into his mouth before grabbing another handful.

  I watch in awe, wondering how he’s even able to swallow that much at once, my eyebrows rising as he takes another bite.

  “Wow, that’s good,” he says with a full mouth.

  “So … for tomorrow night, Naomi mentioned wanting to get dressed up. She’s decided she’s doing my hair and makeup as well,” I say, a little frightened at the idea. “And I was wondering, do you guys want to dress up, too, then?”

  “You can get dressed up, but I’m definitely not,” Mohammad says, chewing.

  I wrinkle my nose at him, picking up a single fry and putting it into my mouth.

  “You won’t win this one,” Noah agrees.

  I turn to Harry with a pout. “Harry, you love clothes,” I say, wanting to get him on my side.

  “I don’t like clothes,” he corrects. “I like looking good.”

  “Noah, what about you?” I ask, trying to change my tactic. “You have a sister. I’m sure you realize girls don’t want to get dressed up if the guys don’t.”

  “You’ve seen my closet, right?”

  “Fine then.
”

  “But if you and Naomi want to wear something short and tight, I’m all for it.” Harry grins.

  “I’d be down for that.” Mohammad smirks.

  “I’ll just text her and let her know that, while we can get dressed up, we don’t have to,” I say, pulling out my phone.

  I write Naomi a message, saying we’re on for getting together at Harry’s but that it will be casual.

  My phone buzzes, and I read the message.

  Naomi: Ahh. So excited. Who cares about the boys? Let’s go shopping after school. We’ll find something hot. X

  “Well, Naomi’s excited regardless of the attire,” I admit, dropping my phone down onto the table.

  But when I look up, I don’t think any of them are even listening to me. They’re just shoveling in fries, taking turns dipping them into the soup.

  My soup.

  “You should come over for dinner tonight,” Noah says, glancing at Harry and Mohammad.

  “What?” Harry says, bringing his attention from the fries to Noah.

  “Mum’s been asking about you both. I think she misses you,” Noah states.

  “Aw, Helen,” Harry says with ease. “Well, if she insisted …”

  “Mohammad?” Noah asks.

  He shakes his head heavily. “If I don’t get back to my aunt, she’ll skewer me and throw me onto the barbecue.”

  Harry narrows his eyes in on Mohammad, and I’m not sure he believes him.

  Mohammad’s eyes dart to the side, but then finally, he opens his mouth. “Fine, the only good thing about my aunt is that she can cook.”

  Noah lets out a chuckle.

  “I’m offended,” Harry says, placing his hand on his chest. “Choosing your aunt over your mates.”

  Mohammad rolls his eyes. “Speaking of dinner,” he says, pulling out his phone, “I’d better be off.”

  “See you at school.” I smile.

  Mohammad gets up almost lazily, pulling his backpack on. “Later.” He waves.

  “Well, that’s some bullshit if I’ve ever heard it,” Harry says, watching as Mohammad leaves.

  “Hey,” I scold.

  “It’s true. Choosing his aunt’s cooking over us—”

  “You know Mohammad and his food,” Noah counters.

  “You’re right,” Harry agrees, nodding his head.