London Prep: Book Two

by Dodd, Jillian

  Because the fact that he could hear my stomach rumbling makes me want to crawl under a rock and hide.

  “It’s not embarrassing. It’s your body’s way of saying, Feed me, feed me,” he says the last words in a shrilly, high-pitched voice, and it sends me into a fit of giggles.

  I head toward the lunchroom, but Mohammad grabs my arm, pulling me in a different direction.

  “We’re eating outside today, remember?”

  “Right.” I nod, barely even realizing that it’s already Friday again. Friday means we sit outside and watch Noah practice for his football match.

  When we get out to the field, Noah and Harry are already there.

  The cool air on my face feels amazing. And the fact that it’s Friday and lunchtime and that Harry is actually here with us makes everything feel right.

  Perfect.

  It’s like a little piece of heaven in the middle of the school day. In the middle of London.

  In the middle of my life.

  “Hi.” I grin, looking between Harry and Noah.

  “Someone’s smiley,” Noah comments, taking in my bright mood.

  “I want to play Tag,” I say, looking at the soccer ball by Noah’s feet and then out toward the field.

  “Tag?” Mohammad asks, turning toward me.

  I nod at him, picking up the ball.

  “I’m not sure that’s part of Noah’s workout plan,” Harry comments.

  “You just don’t want to run,” Mohammad says to Harry.

  “You want to be breathless?” Noah asks, his eyes on me.

  I smile at him. “I just want to play for a bit.”

  “Well, when a woman wants to play,” Harry says, easily scooping me up into his arms.

  He has a huge grin on his face as he jogs farther out onto the field. His blue eyes and deep smile grab my attention.

  “You’re cheating.” I let out a happy giggle.

  When we get to the center of the field, he sets me onto the ground next to Mohammad and Noah.

  “What are the rules?” Mohammad asks, rolling up his sleeves and looking surprisingly serious about this.

  “No tackling,” I say. “I want to have fun, not go home injured.”

  “Boo,” Harry says, a wide grin forming on his face.

  I roll my eyes at him. “Fine. No tackling me.”

  “Why don’t we play Keep Away instead?” Noah interjects.

  I glance over to Mohammad, and he says, “All right, let’s try it.”

  “We’ll keep it away from you first then,” Harry says, sticking his tongue out at me.

  “Wait, are you holding it or kicking it?” I ask, but Noah’s already running away from me, the ball in his hand.

  “Either,” Mohammad calls out, following him up the field.

  I watch Noah drop it and kick it to him.

  I start chasing Mohammad instead, trying to catch him.

  “Having fun?” Harry asks, running alongside me as I move between Noah and Mohammad.

  “You’re supposed to be playing, not talking,” I say, lightly pushing him.

  Mohammad and Noah are way faster than I expected, and they aren’t letting me have my fun and win.

  “I changed my mind,” I call out, feeling out of breath. I stop running and wave them over.

  Noah walks toward me with the ball, but once he gets close enough, I jump on him.

  “Ha!” I shout, ripping the ball from his hands as we fall onto the ground. “I win, I win, I win.” I hold up the soccer ball like it’s a trophy.

  “You cheated,” Noah says, looking at me, upset. “You weren’t allowed to tackle me.”

  “No, I said you couldn’t tackle me,” I counter.

  “She plays dirty,” Mohammad says, grinning in approval.

  “That’s my girl.” Harry laughs, helping me up.

  “I had to cheat a little,” I say, extending my hand to help Noah up off the ground. “Take it as a compliment.”

  “Hmm,” he says, narrowing his eyes in on me.

  He’s looking at me disapprovingly, but I just ignore it.

  “Let’s play Touch Tag. That was a bit too much of a workout,” I suggest.

  “You’re it,” Mohammad says, pushing Noah back onto the ground.

  But before I know it, he’s up again and chasing Mohammad across the field. Harry is running in a completely different direction.

  A few minutes later, Harry and I fall onto the side of the field, watching as Mohammad chases Noah.

  “That was fun.” I smile, my chest pounding.

  “That was fun.” Harry grins.

  I watch his chest rise and fall, his crisp white shirt a little grass-stained.

  I move closer to him, bringing my feet under me so I’m sitting crisscross. “I wanted to tell you that I think you’ve been doing amazing this week. I know things have been stressful at home, but I think you’re handling everything so well. And I’m very lucky.”

  I smile at him and take his hand in mine.

  Because running around with him was fun.

  And this week, he’s really been there for me. Even when his life has been a mess, he’s been sweet and thoughtful. And he’s shown up.

  Emotionally.

  Physically.

  “I’m proud of you,” I add.

  Harry’s face softens, and he rubs his finger across my hand. “I can’t do anything else but try and handle it,” he admits, bringing his eyes up to me.

  And I’m happy he does because I don’t see sadness in them.

  Or fear.

  Anger.

  I just see a boy who is trying.

  “You could ignore it,” I argue.

  Harry chuckles. “That didn’t work out too well for us last time, if you remember.”

  “You’re talking about with Olivia?”

  Harry nods, his jaw twitching. “I drank a lot that day. I slipped into the past. It wasn’t my proudest moment.”

  “Well, regardless, I’m really proud of you. And you make me feel amazing,” I say, leaning into him.

  Harry pulls me to his lips, his hand cradling my cheek. “I told you, you’re an angel. I don’t want to mess that up,” he whispers.

  “Honestly though, are you sure you want to have a get-together at your house tonight? I mean, it was one thing with just Mohammad, Noah, and Naomi. But now, Olivia? I don’t want to stress you out. Or be worried that your parents will find out. We could just hang out. We don’t need to party.”

  “Are you worried about me drinking?” Harry asks, looking surprised.

  I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to word what I want to say. “I’m worried about putting ourselves in an awkward situation and then adding drinking to the mix.”

  Harry laces his hand through mine, smiling at me almost like I’m a child. “I love to party. And I’m smart enough to realize that if I start partying to wash away my frustrations, well, partying won’t be fun anymore.”

  “So, you’re being mature about this? That way, you can still party?” I ask with a laugh.

  Because, that actually does sound like Harry’s logic.

  “Yeah. Besides, that’s more Noah’s pace. He’ll drink for stress. I’m all about drinking for fun.” Harry raises his eyebrows at me, pulling me back to his lips.

  “Eww,” Mohammad says in a girlie, high-pitched voice, like he’s grossed out by our kiss.

  But he must not be too offended because he grabs his backpack and takes out his lunch.

  Noah plops down next to him, out of breath. “Well, I didn’t get in too much technical practice. But I will admit, that was definitely a workout.”

  I grin at him. Because he looks like he had fun.

  “Sometimes, it’s good to just let loose,” I say.

  “It is,” Harry agrees, pinching my chin fondly.

  “Don’t worry, Miss America. I definitely plan to let loose tonight,” Mohammad says.

  “Oh, yeah?” I ask, smiling at him.

  Noah hands me my
lunch, and I pull out a bag of carrots.

  “Definitely. A few drinks. My mates,” he says. “Plus, I’m planning on getting lucky tonight.”

  “That shouldn’t be a goal,” Noah says, rolling his eyes.

  “I agree,” I add.

  “Come on,” Mohammad counters, looking between Harry and me. “You’re telling me that you two will have a whole night to yourselves, and you’re not going to shag? Get real.”

  “First off, we don’t have the night to ourselves,” I cut in. “We’re hanging out with our friends. Not alone. And second, just because I’m sleeping over doesn’t mean that we’re going to have sex. And thirdly, what does that even have to do with you getting lucky?”

  “I have a mum who is up my bum. She can sniff out my lies, and somehow, she knows my moves before I even make them. She’s out of town, and I plan on taking advantage of it,” Mohammad says, like it should be obvious.

  “I mean, I guess I agree. But just because we’re getting together or having a party or whatever, that doesn’t mean that it will ultimately lead to sex. For any of us,” I say, trying to make my point.

  “Leave the man alone,” Harry says, defending Mohammad. “He just wants to get some action. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “Thank you.” Mohammad smiles, nodding his head in agreement. “Although what if this whole getting laid thing is more of a formula than about luck? You’re good with maths, Noah. Help me out here.”

  Noah rolls his eyes in response.

  “Please,” Mohammad begs, folding his hands in prayer.

  “You’re saying that drinking plus a party atmosphere leads to bonding between two people, which will ultimately result in sex?”

  “Exactly. I plan to invoke that exact formula.” Mohammad nods.

  “You mean, follow the formula?” Noah asks.

  “It sounds like you’re invoking the spirits.” I laugh.

  “Hey, if they will help me,” Mohammad says.

  Harry leans over, patting Mohammad’s back. “It could be a big night for any of us. Or all of us. But I wish you well and will help you along your quest as much as I can,” Harry says with enthusiasm.

  “Which brings us back to sex being the goal,” I state, realizing we’ve actually come full circle.

  “We’d better head inside,” Noah says, pulling out his phone to check the time.

  I watch as he packs up his lunch bag, looking a little freaked out by this whole conversation.

  And his expression has me spooked.

  I think about what Harry said.

  It could be a big night for any of us.

  “Yeah,” I agree, getting up.

  Because, until I looked at Noah, I felt fine.

  But now, I just want to get off of this field.

  Mohammad falls back as we walk, talking with Noah while Harry stays at my side.

  I open my mouth a few times to say something, but I can’t come up with anything.

  I don’t really know what to say.

  So, I decide just to stay silent.

  “See you in a minute,” Noah says behind me, grabbing my attention.

  I turn and nod at him, watching as he heads toward the changing rooms.

  “Do you need to stop at your locker?” Harry asks me.

  “No.” I shake my head, giving him the best smile I can manage.

  “I’ll walk you to class then.”

  When we’re in front of the art room, I lean my back up against the wall, trying to figure out what to say.

  “You know that we don’t have to do anything, right?” Harry’s eyes are on me, and they are filled with concern.

  “You’ve always been clear on that.” I nod.

  Because he has.

  But Noah was so freaked out that, now, it has me freaked out.

  “Though I do keep having this chocolate fantasy about you,” Harry says, leaning in closer.

  “You have fantasies about me?” I ask seriously.

  “Mallory, you’ve been relentless all week. You looked stunning on our date. And then that red lipstick,” he continues, rubbing his hand up my arm. “Having you over, in my bed … I can close my eyes and feel your touch.”

  I bring my gaze up to his, feeling like I can’t breathe. My whole body is flooded with the memory of his body pressed into mine.

  “Harry,” I whisper, not sure what to say.

  “I wanted you so badly that day.”

  “I did too,” I admit.

  “And last night, when you said you wanted to be my girlfriend,” he says, shaking his head, “I honestly couldn’t believe it. How lucky I am.”

  I search his face, trying to understand how he could even think that.

  “I’m the lucky one,” I disagree. “And about tonight, I’m excited to sleep in your arms. To be back in your bed.”

  “Whatever happens or doesn’t happen, I’m happy with that too. I don’t want you to freak yourself out over this.”

  I smile almost sadly at his words.

  Because he makes it sound so simple.

  “It’s a normal thing to think about. To be nervous about.”

  “Of course it is. I’m not saying it’s a huge deal or that it isn’t …”

  “What are you saying?” I tilt my head to the side, trying to figure out what he actually wants. What he actually thinks about all of this.

  “What I’m saying is that I like you—a lot. If you decide you want to talk about sex, we can.”

  “Do you think we should?” I push.

  Harry presses his lips together. “You’re overthinking it. We can do whatever you want. Don’t let Mohammad upset you. Tonight will be fun, no matter what happens, okay? We had a lot of fun last time you were in my bed, and we didn’t have sex.”

  “Okay,” I repeat, trying to stop my internal freak-out.

  Because nothing is making sense.

  When I think back to being in Harry’s bed, I wasn’t nervous, yet things happened.

  And I guess tonight, more could happen. Maybe I even want it to.

  “Mallory, stop freaking out,” Harry says, grabbing on to my face with his hands so I’m forced to look at him.

  “No freaking out. I promise,” I whisper back, but Harry doesn’t look convinced.

  And that’s probably because I’m a terrible liar.

  A mingling.

  Art

  My conversation with Harry leaves my head spinning.

  Am I ready to have sex with Harry?

  I think I am.

  I mean … I really like him.

  But at the same time, I leave in a week. But I know I can’t think like that.

  I can’t go through life, thinking about the future too much.

  It’s good to plan and set goals, but I don’t want to not have experiences just because I’m thinking too far ahead.

  Or because things might end.

  That thought leaves me feeling uncomfortable.

  I swallow hard, taking my seat in art class.

  Maybe I should talk through it with someone.

  Shit. That’s probably a bad idea.

  I mean, it’s sort of personal and intimate, right? Something between just Harry and me.

  But my heart is pounding at the thought of going further with Harry.

  I’ve never had sex before.

  But I like Harry, and I like the idea of doing more with him. Which is also scary.

  I feel antsy, like I can’t sit still, and I’m spinning around in my seat when Noah sits down next to me.

  I bite my lip, looking over at him. He’s back in his uniform, his hair damp from his shower.

  Noah always seems so sure of himself. Of his beliefs and choices. And I think I need a little bit of that right now. Someone to bounce ideas around with.

  Mohammad wouldn’t take it seriously. He doesn’t see sex the way I do.

  And Naomi, well, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to talk to her about sex. With everything going on between her, Olivia, and me, I think i
t might just be too much information.

  “Noah,” I whisper, motioning at him.

  He narrows his eyes in at me, probably wondering what I want.

  I nod my head, urging him to scoot closer.

  He moves his chair, so we’re only a few inches apart. “What?”

  “I need to talk to you about something,” I say, my stomach feeling like it’s on a roller coaster.

  “All right,” Noah replies, connecting his gaze with mine.

  I look into the depths of his brown eyes, hoping they will help calm me down.

  He takes in a slow breath. “Mallory?”

  “I want to talk to you about sex,” I admit, keeping my eyes on him.

  He clears his throat, his brows pinching in. “What about it?”

  “Well, you said before that you saw sex as an exchange,” I start.

  He nods. “A mingling,” he says, using the word that I told him a week ago.

  I’m not sure how he seems to remember all these tiny little details, but he does.

  “Right. Well, I want sex to be special. And, well, I was just wondering …” I stop speaking. I was going to ask him about what I should do, but I change my mind, deciding to ask Noah about himself. “How are you going to decide when the time is right?”

  “When the time is right?” he repeats, his eyes growing into saucers. He straightens on his stool, his jaw becoming hard. “Are you thinking about having sex?” His voice is deep and louder than I was hoping for.

  I hold up my finger in front of my lips, begging him to be quiet. I glance over his shoulder, seeing a few pairs of eyes on us.

  And I can’t blame them.

  “Noah,” I scold.

  “You didn’t answer me,” he whispers, his voice hard.

  “I’m just … thinking,” I admit. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “No,” Noah says. “What do you want to know? Or what are you thinking?”

  “Well, how will you know when it’s the right time? Or who the right person is?”

  “There’s not one answer to your question, Mal. I mean …” he says, running his hand from his jaw to his chin.

  “Noah,” I say, pulling his attention back to me, needing him to focus. “I don’t want a philosophical answer. I want practical advice. How will you make your decision?”

  He lets out a heavy breath, his eyes shifting from me down to our desk. “I guess I want it to mean something. I want it to be with someone who I care about deeply. It sounds weird, but I would think about my feelings for the person. I would then consider their feelings. If I felt it was right, I would be fine with having sex. But if I thought about it and those feelings didn’t flow between us, I guess I wouldn’t.”