“Hey,” I start, feeling everyone’s eyes on me.
There are only around twenty in the class, but their stares makes me feel nervous.
I refocus on the teacher. “My name is Mallory James. I’m participating in the student exchange program. I’m from New York, and I will be here for three weeks.”
“Thank goodness,” I hear Noah mutter under his breath.
My attention snaps from the teacher to him. My glare results in him pushing himself farther down into his chair, and I feel happy to be towering next to him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss James,” the teacher says. “I’m Mr. Johnson, and this is Statistics.”
I nod, innately knowing that my introduction is over and that I should sit back down.
I search through the class, looking to see if I recognize any of the faces. A few look back at me, but most of them are staring forward or looking down at their desks.
Statistics is going to be fun. Not. I glance at Noah with a huff. At least, I know someone in this class even though he’s exasperating. And maybe that will distract me from the fact that statistics is a terrible subject and shouldn’t be allowed in high school.
After making it through half the student project presentations and not actually learning anything, I am relieved when the bell rings. I’m already out the door when someone grabs my arm.
I turn to see Noah.
“Wait,” he says, looking between his hand and my eyes, dropping my arm. “Come here.”
I’m hungry, and I don’t have the energy to argue, so I follow him out of the classroom without complaint. He leads me down a long hallway until we get to a row of lockers. Then, he pops one open and starts digging through it.
“Here, since you didn’t get breakfast,” he states, looking down at me through his dark lashes.
He’s holding a granola bar, which causes my eyes to light up.
“Oh my goodness,” I say, practically drooling. I grab it from his hand, quickly open it, and take a bite. The flavor of honey and oat is divine. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“I thought you might be hungry,” he says, letting out a laugh. He pulls out a chemistry book as I take another bite.
“This almost makes up for this morning.” I smile at him.
He closes his locker, leaning his shoulder against it, facing me. “Well, I couldn’t have you in a sour mood until lunch, could I?” he asks.
“Luckily, you won’t have to deal with me,” I reply, taking note of his chemistry book. “I have Latin next.”
“Hey, big boy,” a voice says from behind me.
Noah’s gaze moves over my shoulder, and his face instantly lights up in a full-blown grin. And before I know it, an arm is wrapping around my shoulders.
“I see you’ve found my best mate,” Harry, the boy from the pub, says with a grin on his face. His arm is resting on me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and he looks between Noah and me.
“Your best mate?” I ask, almost choking on a bite of my granola bar because it can’t be possible. There’s no freaking way that fun, adorable Harry is best friends with Noah.
Noah seems equally surprised. “You two have met?” he asks, and I’m not sure if his question is directed to me or Harry.
“Yesterday,” Harry starts. “I met this one at The Queens Arms.” He gives me a wink.
Noah’s mouth hangs open, and his eyes narrow in on me. “You were at the pub yesterday?”
I feel my eyes go wide at his accusation, but I stand a little straighter, trying to be firm. “Well, obviously, yeah. So what?”
“So what?” Noah replies, and I hear Harry laugh, watching as anger rises in Noah. “So? So, you were out at the pub while I was carrying all of your shit up to my sister’s room?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Harry interrupts. “What?”
“Yeah,” Noah says. “She’s staying with us. In Mia’s room.”
My heartbeat speeds up for a minute as I wonder if they’re going to ditch me altogether and run off on their own or if they’re about to get into a fight. It’s hard to tell what’s going on in either of their heads.
But I’m panicking. And I don’t even know why.
“No shit,” Harry states, his blue eyes not meeting my gaze. Unlike Noah, who is glaring at me. Glaring at Harry’s arm actually, which is still draped across my shoulders.
“Well, I have to admit,” Harry finally gets out, “this takes me by total surprise.” A grin spreads across his face. “What a fucking coincidence. The hottest new bird in school and my best mate, all under the same roof. I must be one lucky bastard.” He laughs genuinely.
My heartbeat slows down as Harry leans against me.
Noah’s eyes move back to Harry’s gaze, and I see him let out a breath. He’s relieved. This is freaking awkward.
“Yeah, what a coincidence,” I state, trying not to lose my shit.
“Did you just say the hottest bird?” Noah starts, making a sour face. “Harry, she’s mad. Completely.”
My eyes go wide at him as Harry’s laugh echoes in my ears. Noah shakes his head, giving Harry a nod before walking off, brushing right past me. I want to turn and scream at him, but it’s probably best that he left because the next time I see that little weasel, I’m going to freaking attack him!
“Someone looks upset,” Harry says, placing a small tap on my nose.
My thoughts refocus on him. I look at the eyes staring into mine and then move my gaze down across Harry’s body, noticing how his white button-down is pressed crisply flat. His parted hair is brushed and gelled to the side, and a cardigan is wrapped around his shoulders. He looks like a preppy rich boy. And he looks adorable.
“Noah’s an ass,” I reply.
Harry’s eyes sparkle at my words, but he just smiles at me. “He’s a strong lad with harsh opinions.”
I just laugh, shaking my head.
“Fine, he’s a bit of an ass,” he admits.
Being next to Harry makes my whole body feel lit up. Hell, it’s like he’s lighting up the entire hallway. He bites his lip, moving his face so it’s closer to mine. His cheek is barely touching mine, and that alone has my heart pounding.
“I have to tell you, this uniform is definitely working for me.” Harry wraps his fingers around my waist, giving me a squeeze.
The sensation causes a blush to spread across my cheeks. I didn’t expect him to be so handsy at school, and I can feel eyes on us in the hallway. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I guess, in between kissing and, well, kissing, all I really got out of him was that we would be going to the same school and that he really enjoyed kissing me.
“I have you flustered.” He grins, noticing my cheeks.
“This whole day has me flustered. But I’m glad you like the uniform. I had to adjust it.” I smirk, biting my lip. And by adjust, I mean, shorten. Because the skirt that they gave me went down past my knees. It was ridiculous. So, this morning, I decided to roll it up at the waist, praying that I wouldn’t get in trouble.
And maybe hoping that Harry would notice.
“I can see.” He grins, taking in my long legs.
I hear the sound of the bell and curse to myself. I still haven’t been to my locker to get my Latin book.
“See you around, Mallory,” Harry says before sliding past me and into an open doorway on my right.
I go straight to the classroom instead of stopping at my locker, hoping someone will share their book with me.
Definitely working for you.
Latin
I manage to find an open seat. This classroom is bigger than the last one, and the desks seem older and more formal, which I have to admit is kind of fitting for Latin. I’ve taken French already, but apparently, that class was full, so the next best thing they could put me in was Latin.
Figures.
But it can’t be that hard, and I have a decent memory, so I’m not too worried about it.
What I don’t understand is why they offer up an
exchange program that messes with your junior year schedule. It doesn’t make sense to me. If you’re going to bring in kids for only a few weeks, why wouldn’t you keep their classes the same?
I tap a pencil on my desk, feeling irritated by the fact that not only do I have to do work while I’m here, but I’ll also have to go back to New York and probably learn everything I missed.
But then I think about something better than schoolwork—like Harry and his lips.
Someone sits into the chair next to me, and I turn to see yet another face that I don’t recognize. This guy has dark hair with thick eyebrows that frame bright golden eyes.
“You know Harry and Noah?” he inquires.
I tilt my head at him, wondering if he saw me in the hallway with them. Or why he cares.
“Uh, yeah, I guess I do,” I state, not sure what else to say.
The boy nods and extends his hand to me. “I’m Mohammad.”
I’m a little surprised by his formalness and kindness, so I smile and shake his hand. “Mallory.”
“I know.” He smiles back, his whole face lighting up. “Everyone in my first course was talking about you. I know that you have block one with Noah, and it got around that you two were having a go at one another.”
My eyes go wide at his comment. “How on earth could that have even gotten to another class?”
“Well,” Mohammad starts, leaning in closer to me, “apparently, the girls have this secret meeting time in the loo—what we call the restroom here. They gossip with one another because they’re in different classrooms, and then they take back the information they’ve learned and spread it around. Or so I’ve heard.”
I search his face, waiting for him to admit that he’s joking, but he seems to be serious.
“Wow,” I reply before letting out a little laugh. Because, honestly, are we twelve?
“I know,” Mohammad agrees, shaking his head. “Women are fucking brilliant, aren’t they? And their planning skills. Actually, it’s a little frightening. Anyway, I saw you and then saw Harry and Noah, and now, I understand what the hype is about.”
“What hype?” I ask, turning in my seat so I’m fully facing him.
“Your uniform for one. It is definitely working for you,” he states, taking in my tights-covered legs. “The other girls couldn’t get over it. They were jealous really. Unfortunately, you’ll never get away with it. But it will impress Harry, won’t it?” He gives me a smile, cocking his head to the side, almost in a challenge.
“What makes you think I’m trying to impress Harry? Or that I need to impress him?”
Mohammad laughs, his eyes sparkling. “I know everything about this school. And for your information, Harry and Noah happen to be my best mates. That’s why I took it upon myself to sit next to you and introduce myself. I saw the way Harry was wrapped around you and the way Noah looked like he wanted to murder you. You’ve already gotten my boys twisted up, plus half the girls in History, so I had to see what the fuss was all about. You’re the new girl and bound to cause drama, so I figured it’s my civic duty to help guide you through the hostile and hormonal battlefield that is Kensington School.”
“You’ve taken that honor upon yourself?” I ask with a smile.
I can tell from his demeanor that he isn’t kidding, but he isn’t being too serious, and I like that. Mohammad is warm and friendly, and it is nice to have someone I can talk to who doesn’t make me want to punch their face or bite my lip because all I can think about is his hands on my waist.
“A true gentleman, aren’t I?” He grins back at me, and this time, I know he is kidding.
“Well, that might come in handy right now. I didn’t have time to grab my Latin book between classes. Mind sharing?” I ask.
He pushes his book toward me, flipping it open to the page written on the whiteboard. I feel myself relax into my seat.
Maybe things won’t be so bad. I will actually have a friend. And Harry is obviously interested in me. Part of me wondered if he would even remember last night after the amount of beer he likely drank. Noah is frustrating, but maybe I can turn that into enjoyment by bothering him back.
I sit, listening to our teacher repeat words and then write them out on the board. Mohammad makes an effort to whisper points to me that I missed in the first few weeks of classes. His tidbits of information help, and I’m starting to think that maybe I can do this. Latin. Kensington School. All of it.
“Come on,” Mohammad says, flipping his textbook closed. “Time for lunch.” His words come right before the bell rings, and his accuracy surprises me.
“Thanks for the help in class, by the way. I really appreciate it,” I say, walking alongside him.
I look over at him, watching as he raises his eyebrows at a group of girls who walk past us. His enthusiasm and flirtation bring a smile to my face, mostly because it doesn’t have the desired effect, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“No sweat, Miss America.”
“So, you say you’re friends with Harry and Noah?” I ask as we walk.
“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever really. How are you liking it here?”
I wonder if I should be honest or change my answer because they’re friends. I decide to be honest.
“Well, Noah is a nightmare. His family is great, but he’s like Satan’s child. And my first class is Statistics,” I say, rolling my eyes.
Mohammad laughs. “Noah is stubborn. You just have to give him time. Statistics, on the other hand,” he says, shaking his head, “that is a nightmare.”
I laugh at his comment, feeling some of the pressure of the day release a bit.
Sitting across from my boyfriend.
Lunch
Mohammad leads me to the lunchroom and then through the cafeteria line, pointing out different foods I might want to eat. I follow him through a maze of half-filled tables until we reach the one he has been looking for.
And guess who is sitting there.
Noah.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Noah says, looking up at me through his annoyingly thick lashes. His gaze shifts to Mohammad, who isn’t bothered by his attitude.
“Relax, she’s chill. We became friends in Latin,” Mohammad states, giving me a smile as he takes a seat down onto the bench across from Noah.
I sit down next to him.
“I already have to see her in class and at home. Is it too much to ask to at least eat in peace?” he replies, taking an angry bite out of his sandwich.
“Yes, it is.” Mohammad’s words are firm and final, and Noah doesn’t argue with them.
I want to shout, Ha! because, finally, someone has put him in his place.
But I don’t. I just sit here, smiling happily to myself.
At least I’m happy until I look down at my plate, where I find a mixed green salad and macaroni and cheese. Neither looks particularly appetizing, and I push the pasta around, not convinced of its quality. Mohammad is practically shoveling it in his mouth, so I decide to be brave and take a bite.
I let it roll around in my mouth for a minute and realize it isn’t the worst thing I’ve eaten, but it isn’t the best. When I glance across the table, I notice Noah is watching me eat. I flush at his attention, causing his gaze to soften.
“I’m not a fan of the school food either,” he says, picking up a homemade sandwich and taking a bite. “You can always bring a packed lunch. I bring my own.”
I want to tell him, Thank you, because I feel like I’m out of my league a bit. Because I don’t want to eat something that I don’t like. But I also don’t want people staring at me because I’m not eating. It’s one of those weird moments when I’m embarrassed he saw me but happy he did and said something. I’m about to reply to him when Harry sits down next to Noah, dropping his tray onto the table.
“Miss Gunters was definitely checking me out in class today,” he says, taking a sip of his soda.
“Miss Gunters … the history teacher?” Noah asks, looking perplexed.
Harry nods. “She was giving me the eyes.”
“The come fuck me eyes?” I bait, going along with his story.
His gaze shifts to me, and he smiles, raising his brows. “Exactly,” he confirms.
“That’s disgusting. She’s ancient,” Mohammad cuts in, his nose scrunching up at the thought.
I laugh to myself, put at ease by Harry.
“Regardless, she wants me,” Harry continues. “I’m just not sure if she’ll do anything about it.”
“And if she does?” Noah asks teasingly.
“Well, who am I to turn down a pitiful old woman? We all need love, now don’t we?”
And I’m not sure if he’s serious or joking.
“Always taking one for the team, Harry,” Mohammad replies before scooping the last bite of mac and cheese into his mouth.
I notice Harry doesn’t eat the meal on his tray, choosing instead to sip on a Coke as he opens a bag of chips.
“I stopped by to talk to Coach Carson today,” Noah says, changing the subject as he crumples up his brown paper bag. “He says he wants me doing extra training during the week.”
“Because you aren’t training enough as it is,” Harry replies sarcastically, shaking his head.
“Wants me to add in a half-hour run in the mornings. Thinks it will get me that much more ready for the season.”
“Are you going to listen to him?” Mohammad asks, crossing his arms on the table in front of us.
“I don’t really have a choice,” Noah replies.
“Bollocks,” Harry states with a grin. “Of course you do, lad.”
London Prep Page 5