“Please just help me,” I whine, pushing out my bottom lip, fully pouting now. It’s the only thing I can do.
Noah’s face softens, and he disapprovingly shakes his head at me.
“Come here,” he says, scooting over on my bed, making room for me.
I sit down next to him, careful to keep my distance.
“What?” I reply, looking down at my tragic paper.
“So, this part right here,” he says, pointing to one of my formulas, “you have the formula right, but the solution is wrong. I think if you adjust that, you might actually have the correct answer.”
I glance over at Noah in shock. “Really?”
Because if I heard him right—and I think I did—he just said that I got the formula correct, all on my very own!
“Yeah.” He nods at me, his lips pulling up at the corner.
“Thank you.” I grin at him, taking the paper from his hand. I grab the pencil, biting on the eraser until I figure out which part to change. I erase away my work and adjust it to what I think is the right answer.
I glance over at Noah, and he nods at me.
Once I get that changed, the rest of it makes sense, and I finally make it to the end.
To just one answer.
“Oh my God,” I say, feeling relieved, looking down at my paper, “I did it.”
“Look at that,” Noah says, his eyes scanning over my adjusted work. “You actually did.”
He looks up at me, a smile on his face and maybe a touch of pride. And I have to admit, I feel it too.
“Thank you,” I say, wrapping my arms around him. But I quickly pull away, not wanting a repeat of this morning.
“Don’t worry about it.” Noah pulls away too, sitting up straighter. “So, you never said, how was it with Naomi?”
I get up and put my textbook onto my desk. “It was really fun.”
“I have to say, I didn’t expect these things,” Noah says, grabbing on to my hand and examining my nails. He holds them up in front of his face, taking in their new length and color.
“She insisted that I needed more feminine fingers.” I laugh.
“These are more like daggers than nails.” He chuckles, scrunching up his nose.
“Hey!” I try to pull my hand away, not wanting him to talk badly about my forty-pound manicure.
Noah’s eyes sparkle at me, and he bites into his lip, not letting go of my hand.
“What are you going to do?” he teases, looking up at me.
“Well, I’m not going to let you talk shit about my nails, for one,” I say, arching an eyebrow at him.
“No?” he asks, mimicking my look in challenge.
“No,” I state.
Noah pulls me down next to him, pinning me onto the bed.
“Noah.” I laugh, trying to push him off of me.
But he’s laughing now, too, and holding on to my hands, holding them both above my head. He peers down at me, a grin on his face.
“You know, I’m beginning to think you’re all talk,” Noah says, smirking at me.
“You’re such a jerk,” I say, trying to pull my hands free.
Noah tightens his grip, keeping my hands pushed into the bed.
“What am I supposed to do anyway? You have me pinned down,” I huff.
Noah lowers his head closer to my face, his lips brushing against my ear. “The question isn’t what you would do. The question is what you’d let me do,” he whispers.
I suck in a hard breath, trying not to freak out. Noah is holding on to my hands with only one of his now, his other hand slipping down across my ribs. He pulls his face back, looking down at me.
“But hey, if you want to be in control, I don’t mind,” Noah says, his gaze serious.
Suddenly, he rolls over onto his back, pulling me on top of him so I’m seated in his lap. He grabs on to my hands, making me pin down his own hands over his head. I’m so close to him that I can feel his breath against my cheek. And my heart is pounding in my chest. I look down at him, searching his eyes.
“See,” he taunts, “all talk and no action.”
I pull back, ready to slap him, but then he’s laughing and grinning at me.
“You’re so annoying,” I growl, pushing at his chest.
He holds up his hands in defense, but all I can feel is his stomach bouncing under me, matching his laughter.
“You have the best reactions,” he lets out mid-laugh.
I roll my eyes at him, irritated that he always seems to be the one with the power. I want to do something to wipe that smug smile off his face, but I can’t think of anything.
Because my head is so foggy.
And I’m really annoyed.
I slip off of his lap and onto the bed next to him, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You’re upset,” Noah says, his eyes still bright. He tilts his head at me, sitting up.
“Obviously,” I say, glancing over at him.
Because who does he think he is? He can’t just play around with me like that.
My whole body is still in shock because he never gives me a warning.
He just acts, and I somehow fall into it. I get sucked in, and it makes me mad at myself.
Noah scoots over, so he’s sitting crisscross in front of me. “Don’t be upset.”
“I’m not upset,” I say, looking at him. “I’m … confused.”
I watch him, hoping to find clarity in his reaction. But Noah doesn’t have one. His face just softens, his eyes connecting with mine.
“What are you confused about?” he asks.
I’m confused about how I’m feeling.
I’m confused about the way my body reacts to you.
I’m confused as to why you keep taunting me.
I’m confused as to why I haven’t told you about Harry yet.
“Nothing,” I reply, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
I crawl around Noah and get off the bed, needing to stand. Noah turns, uncrossing his legs, looking at me.
“We never ended up getting sushi the other night. You know, because of everything with Harry,” Noah comments.
“What?” I ask, trying to follow his train of thought.
“You in the mood for it tonight?” He looks up at me, his brown eyes boring into mine.
“Are you asking me out on a date?” I blurt out. And I immediately regret it. Because of all the things I could have said or asked, that was the worst. My hand itches to come up and cover my mouth, to hide my face, but I don’t let it. I just stare at Noah, not sure what he’s going to say.
“A date?” Noah repeats. He looks at me like I just told him the most hilarious joke. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He laughs, standing up from my bed. “I’ll go get dressed.”
I nod, staring at him, not sure what to say. I break eye contact, sitting down at my desk as he walks out of my room.
He was laughing at me. Like, genuinely laughing. I cannot believe he had the nerve to think that I was joking! And he didn’t even blink! He didn’t flinch.
I get up, throwing my notes onto my bed, knowing that I should feel relieved.
And I am.
Because any awkwardness that could have occurred was forcefully denied by his reaction. And I want to scream.
Because this just confirms it.
He’s messing with me.
And I’m done letting him.
“Ready?” Noah asks, leaning into my room.
I look back at him, finally seeing clearly for the first time today.
“Ready,” I agree.
“I think my brain is stuffed full,” Noah says, slamming his textbook shut.
We decided, instead of getting sushi out, we’d pick it up and bring it back to snack and study. I had suggested it because I didn’t really want to sit across from Noah, feeling mad and frustrated while trying to eat.
Noah leans back against his headboard, running his hand through his hair. He has one leg crossed over the other, his body outstretched.
“I’m with you.” I close my Latin book. “I’m pretty sure I took every Latin word I knew and somehow managed to learn it wrong. I swear, I’m not sure I can even distinguish one letter from another,” I say, rubbing my eyes.
I’m tired from reading for so long, and I blink a few times, trying to pull myself out of study mode.
“You’re going to do great on your test,” Noah comments.
“I just hope I pass,” I reply, looking up at him.
His expression is soft, and this is the Noah that I want. The Noah who is sweet and kind. The Noah who helps me with Statistics and quizzes me on Latin terms.
I don’t want the Noah from before. The one who makes me feel unsure.
The one who makes me feel out of control.
Noah cracks a smile, his lips pulling at the corner. “Worst case, you can just sneak a peek at Mohammad’s test. I’m sure he won’t do terribly.”
Noah laughs, and my eyes instantly go wide.
“Are you suggesting I cheat?” I ask with a laugh.
Because Noah is not the cheating type. He’s the work hard and see results or look at it this way or see, it’s so simple; you were only off one number from having the right answer type. He’s not the sneak a peek at the next sheet over type.
“I’m suggesting that you relax. Besides, it’s always an option.” He grins, wrinkling up his nose.
“It’s not,” I say, scolding him. But I smile too. Because I know he’s kidding. “Thanks for the help today,” I add.
“Don’t worry about it,” Noah says, stretching out his arms in front of him. “You got pretty far in that question, and the part you missed wasn’t obvious. You should feel good about it.”
“You’re too nice to me when it comes to Statistics. I’m really just terrible, but I appreciate the—” I’m interrupted when my phone goes off, and I look down at the screen, seeing Harry’s name pop up.
I quickly push the phone against my chest, trying to shield it from Noah’s view.
“All right?” Noah asks, his eyes scanning my face, probably sensing my distress.
“Fine,” I reply, trying to figure out what to do. “I’ve got to take this.”
I get up off his bed and quickly walk into my room, closing the door shut behind me.
“Hey,” I say, answering the phone.
“Hey.” Harry’s voice sounds rougher than this morning.
“How are you?” I ask, immediately concerned.
He lets out a heavy breath. “I’m doing all right.”
“Yeah?” I say, not wanting to push him.
“It was hard to see my mum,” he admits. “She freaked out.”
“I bet she did,” I reply.
I can’t imagine being a mom and seeing my child hurt. Especially by someone who is supposed to love them.
“She knew Dad had a temper but apparently didn’t realize to what extent. She spent exactly five minutes feeling sorry for me and the rest of the time cursing him,” he goes on.
“Oh,” I say, surprised.
“Yeah.”
“So, not really supporting you?” I say, confused.
“Not really. But at least, now, she knows,” he says, almost casually.
“Did she say what she’s going to do?”
“She wants to leave my dad,” he states.
And instantly, I feel sick to my stomach for him. Because regardless of the circumstances, it’s never easy to see your family break apart.
“It’s for the best. It’s not like they’ve been a loving couple in the past anyway. And I think, more than anything, this is her chance to take him to court.”
“It’s going to get messy,” I state.
“All my mum cares about is herself and getting away from my dad. She’s using me as a way to get more money,” he says flatly.
“Do you really believe that?” I ask.
Harry lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe, deep down, she does care. But I could see it in her eyes. She was livid at him for what he had done. And I could see she wanted to make him pay for it. I guess, regardless of her reasons, it’s something.”
“You deserve better than that,” I say, not holding back. “And you deserve to feel safe.”
“Mum’s already been on the phone with her lawyers. I’m staying at Mohammad’s tonight.”
“That probably has you feeling a little off.” Because I understand that not being in your own space can make you feel even more out of your element.
“I would rather be with you,” Harry says, causing my insides to instantly warm.
“I would too,” I admit. “Harry, everything is going to be okay.”
“It’s sweet of you to say that,” he replies. “But I can already tell, Mum’s going to drag me into this. And I’m going to be stuck, standing between them while they yell at each other.”
“Don’t think like that,” I say, wanting to comfort him.
“Let’s not talk about it,” he replies, sounding frustrated—or maybe just hurt.
“Harry,” I start but stop myself.
“I just … she’s already always gone. And if my parents split up, then what am I supposed to do? Switch between two empty houses instead of one? And what, now I’m going to get dragged into their divorce? I didn’t want this, Mallory.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through this.” It’s the only thing I can say because I can’t make it better. All I can do is support him.
“It will be fine. I’ll just keep on like I always do. Besides, it’s not good to dwell,” he says, perking up.
And I’m not sure if I’m worried or relieved by his sudden change of attitude.
“Hopefully, staying over at Mohammad’s is fun,” I say, trying to add to his light mood.
“Oh, definitely. His aunt happens to be a bomb cook. She’s already made us a ton of food. I’m practically living like a king over here. Hell, I might never return home,” he says, sounding happier.
“Uh-oh. I’d better not have any competition,” I tease. “Am I going to have to start cooking to win you over?”
“I can see the benefits,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “Maybe, instead, you should bring the ingredients up to my room, and we can have a little fun with them there.”
“Harry,” I gasp, sucking in a breath as he laughs into the phone.
“I thought you wanted to cheer me up.”
I roll my eyes. “And what exactly would cheer you up?”
“Hmm. You feeding me strawberries in bed. Me licking whipped cream off of your fingers. Maybe a little chocolate sauce dripping down your stomach.”
I instantly flush, feeling my body heat up at his words.
“I think I get the idea,” I say, breathless.
“Always something to look forward to,” he says, more serious this time.
“Always,” I repeat, not finding the words.
“You should think about me tonight in bed, Mallory,” he practically whispers. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
Harry hangs up, but I keep the phone up to my ear, my eyes wide.
My heart is pounding.
And I think, tonight, I won’t have a choice.
I’ll definitely be thinking about him.
And only him.
Monday, September 30th
More than I expected.
6:45am
“Morning.”
I bat open my eyes, finding Noah seated on the corner of my bed.
I instantly groan.
“That’s not the greeting I was hoping for,” Noah says, smiling.
“Why are you so happy?” I mutter, trying to pull the sheets back over my face.
“Well, I’m going to take a new approach to mornings with you,” he says.
I look at him with one eye open, my other refusing to work yet. Noah seems way more fresh and awake than usual. “What?” I ask, confused.
“Since it’s Monday morning and I want to start this week right, I thought that I would b
ring you coffee in bed.”
“Oh,” I say, my other eye finally opening. Because, now, he has my attention. “That’s … really nice.”
Noah nods, looking relaxed. “It is, isn’t it? But it’s best for the household really because I thought if I heard you try to murder your alarm clock one more time, I might lose it. So, instead, I’ve decided to switch my approach. I’ve brought you incentive, and I turned off your alarm.”
I narrow my eyes in on him, looking at his bright eyes and perky smile. “So, more self-serving than kind,” I mutter.
“If you want the coffee, you’ll have to get up,” Noah says, rising from my bed with the steaming cup in his hand. He tilts it back and forth, taunting me.
“No,” I whine, not ready to get up yet. “Just give it to me.”
Noah raises his eyebrows at me. “You know, I think, in another life, you might have been a princess.”
“Well, maybe you should treat me like a princess now,” I comment, sitting up further, outstretching my hand to him.
Noah rolls his eyes but holds out the cup. When I go to grab it, he pulls it away.
“Give it to me.” I pout.
He hands me the cup, surprising me when he so easily gives in, and I bring it to my lips, taking in the warm liquid.
“Mmm,” I moan, closing my eyes.
“Enjoying yourself?” Noah says lightly.
I flick my gaze up to him and take in his already washed and dressed body.
“Why are you ready so early?” I ask, checking the clock.
Usually, he’s just now getting into the shower, hogging up the bathroom for the next half hour.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he says, shrugging.
“Excitement? Nerves?” I ask, peering up at him, taking another sip.
“I’m not sure,” he replies, his eyes still bright. “I’m just in a good mood.” He shrugs, his lips pulling at the corner.
“I can tell.”
“Anyway”—he starts moving to my door—“I’ll see you downstairs.”
Noah leaves my room, and I take another sip of coffee before setting it on the bedside table.
I’m surprised by his mood today. He seems almost antsy, like he can’t wait for something.
But as far as I know, nothing is going on today.
Just regular old school.
London Prep: Book Two Page 4
