London Prep

by Dodd, Jillian

  Naomi puts her hand on mine, looking like she’s been caught. “I’m not sure what to say. Olivia is my best friend. But I think you’re nice. I just … well, I hope you have a good time.” She gives me a sympathetic smile before walking in Olivia’s direction.

  I’m not sure there’s anything else I can do, but at least she doesn’t hate me. I decide to find Harry, pushing through the crowd on the dance floor until I find him right in the middle, Mohammad at his side.

  The whole place is filled with music, and it has me excited. Mohammad is scanning the crowd, probably trying to find his dream girl for the night, while Harry has his eyes barely open, his head moving back and forth with the beat.

  “Where’s Noah?” I ask, noticing his absence.

  A new song switches on, thankfully being a little slower, so I can hear. Harry just shrugs, but Mohammad scans the crowd and then points.

  “Right there,” he says, looking in the direction of one of the seating areas to our left.

  “He needs more to drink before he’ll come out on the dance floor,” Harry tells me.

  I look over, finding Noah sitting on one of the couches. He’s leaning in, talking to someone.

  “Who’s he talking to?” I ask Mohammad.

  Mohammad looks back over before bringing his gaze back to me. “That’s Sophia Burke. She’s best friends with Mia.”

  I look back over at them, noticing how their knees are touching. They look comfortable together, close even.

  “Is there something going on between them?”

  “She’s definitely fit,” Harry says, glancing at them on the couch as he dances.

  I look over, taking in her long legs and short dress. She has golden skin and shiny black hair that’s parted down the middle. The contrast of it with her white smile and sparkling eyes leaves me feeling a little … bothered.

  Because Noah is laughing and having fun.

  Sophia has a grin on her face.

  I’m not sure if she’s telling him a joke or if they’re secretly brooding together and finding joy in the company. But either way, he looks happy.

  “I used to think they had something going on, but on the down-low because of his sister,” Mohammad comments. “But I was never sure.”

  I think about the idea of Noah with someone, and I can’t really imagine it.

  “So, is she artsy like Mia then?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.

  I look to Harry, and he shrugs, obviously not too invested or in the loop.

  “Yeah,” Mohammad says, confirming. “From what I can tell, she’s kind of wild. Everything is overdramatic and spontaneous with her. You know, theater-girl types.”

  “Willing to get freaky for their art,” Harry says, grinning. He lets out a laugh, but a new song switches on, and he’s back into the music, his shoulders rising and falling with the beat.

  I shift my gaze from Harry back to Noah, irritated that he looks so happy. I refocus on what’s in front of me—Mohammad and Harry.

  “Sarah’s looking fit tonight,” Mohammad says, his eyes sliding up and down a girl dancing to our right.

  She’s in one of the tightest dresses I’ve seen, and it hugs her in all the right places.

  “She’s leaving nothing up to the imagination,” I agree.

  “I like a girl who is straightforward. She knows what she has and is working it.” Mohammad grins, giving her a wink.

  She breaks his gaze but then looks back at him, and I wonder if he is actually as smooth as Harry says. Mohammad slowly dances his way over to her, and I’m so caught up in watching him that I almost forget to dance. Mohammad eventually gets his hands on her hips, and before I know it, they’re dancing together, both looking content.

  “Told you he’s got moves,” Harry says in my ear, wrapping his hands around my waist.

  “You did.” I grin, falling into him a little. Because now, it’s just us.

  His fingers press into me, but then he gives me a spin. I giggle, coming back into his chest.

  Everyone else is grinding, and here we are, dancing like we’re in a ballroom.

  But I like it.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and look into his eyes.

  “I have to say,” he says, leaning in toward me, “I know what I said earlier, but all I can think about is getting you out of this dress.” He slides his hands up my waist and onto the bare skin of my back.

  “I thought you promised to behave,” I tease, looking into his sparkling blue eyes.

  He lets out an easy laugh but then smiles at me. “That was before I saw you in this dress.”

  I instantly melt.

  Then, I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him down to my lips. Because when it’s just the two of us, I have his attention.

  He is sweet and sincere. I press my lips into his only for a second before pulling away.

  “Here,” Harry says, bringing the flask in between our chests.

  I look around to make sure no one is blatantly watching me before taking a swig. I hand it back to Harry, and he just brings it to his lips, tilting his head back. He obviously doesn’t care if anyone sees him.

  “I’m going to go find the loo,” he says, looking around for it.

  “I think they’re over there.” I point toward a back corner I noticed earlier and watch as he makes his way to the restroom.

  The second Harry is out of sight, Olivia is at my side.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” she asks, practically seething.

  Her eyes are pointed, and for a moment, I want to just give in. To tell her I’m sorry. That I don’t want the drama and bullshit.

  But then I realize that she doesn’t care. I could apologize, and she would never accept it. Because even though she and Harry broke up before I got here, it’s easier to blame me instead of herself.

  And it’s obvious she still wants to be with him, so she’s going to blame anyone but him.

  “Dancing, obviously,” I reply, turning my back to her.

  I don’t want her to ruin either of our nights, so I try to ignore her. Maybe if I don’t initiate, she will just leave me alone.

  “I saw you talking to Naomi,” she says, grabbing on to my arm.

  The force stops me from dancing and instantly pisses me off. Because who does she think she is?

  “So what?” I reply, glaring at her.

  “You think you can just weasel your way into my life. But let me tell you, you’re wrong. Harry is mine. And so is Naomi. She will never be your friend, and he will never be your boyfriend.”

  “Big fucking deal,” I reply, shaking my head at her.

  Her mouth falls open at my comment, and I know it wasn’t what she was expecting. I notice the people around us. They’re trying to dance, but I know that they’re watching closely and straining to hear every word.

  I look toward Mohammad, hoping he will catch my eye, or even Noah.

  Someone needs to come to my defense.

  “You need to go,” Olivia adds, crossing her arms.

  “No,” I reply. “Naomi invited me, and I haven’t done anything. If she wants me to leave, she can ask me herself.”

  Olivia turns on her heels, pushing her way through the crowd. I shake my head, knowing she’s already on her way to get Naomi and that she’s probably going to ask me to leave. I’m sure she won’t be rude about it, but I can already see her eyes, feeling sorry for having to stand by her friend.

  “I think Sarah’s definitely feeling it tonight,” Mohammad says, grinning, coming up to me.

  He’s completely oblivious to what just transpired, so I try to focus my attention on him and not on the drama that is about to unfold.

  “Oh, yeah?” I reply, absentmindedly.

  “Definitely,” Mohammad confirms.

  I’m starting to feel the buzz from the shot I took with Harry. Which is probably a good thing.

  “Well, I’m happy for you,” I reply with a genuine smile. “You’re a catch.”

  “
Don’t get confused, Miss America. I’m not trying to get caught.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “I forgot you were only on the hunt for a one-night thing. But even then, any woman should be so lucky.”

  Harry and Noah walk up to us, laughing, and when Noah gets beside me, I can smell fresh alcohol on his breath. His eyes are sparkling, and he seems to be enjoying himself. I take comfort in being with the three of them again.

  “It’s time for Noah to show us his moves,” Harry teases.

  “I’m a shit dancer,” Noah comments, looking unmoved by Harry’s insistence.

  “And yet, we love you anyway.” Harry grins, wrapping his arm around Noah’s shoulders.

  Noah looks at me, his cheeks rosy. But then someone pushes me to the side, breaking into the middle of our small circle.

  “You need to leave,” Olivia says, fuming in front of me.

  I look behind her, seeing Naomi join our circle, looking paler than before. Her lips are pulled into a straight line, her eyes on Olivia.

  “All right,” Noah starts, cutting in, but Olivia turns to Harry, her eyes on fire.

  “And honestly, Harry, coming to my best friend’s birthday with this fucking American slag? The disgrace.”

  “Olivia!” Naomi shouts, her hand coming up to her mouth.

  Mohammad takes a step back. I look to Harry, waiting for him to say something, but he just stares at Olivia.

  “And you,” she says, turning to Naomi, “whose side are you on? I saw you in the corner, talking to her. And you invited her here?”

  Naomi blushes, but then she pushes her shoulders back. “Yes, I did.”

  Before she says anything else, I decide to cut in. “This is ridiculous. It isn’t some competition, Olivia. I’m not stealing anything from you. If you would stop being pissed for two seconds, you might realize that you’re ruining your best friend’s party by yelling at both of us for no reason.”

  Because I am not taking this from her anymore. She’s being a five-year-old, and I’m fucking over it.

  Harry’s eyes go wide at my outburst, but I don’t care. I have nothing to say to him because he didn’t say anything when Olivia verbally attacked me.

  He was silent, and that said everything I needed to hear.

  Olivia is looking at me, stunned, but then Harry’s flask catches my attention. He takes a swig from it before dropping it back into Mohammad’s pocket. He looks at me, his face softening, but then he grabs Olivia’s elbow. He whispers something to her, looking more serious than I’ve ever seen him. He takes her elbow and escorts her off the dance floor.

  With Olivia a safe distance away, I feel like I can finally breathe again.

  I look over to Naomi, and she looks livid. I didn’t think it was possible to see her sweet face in such a distorted state.

  “I’m sorry about that.” I notice everyone around us watching.

  “That bitch. I told her not to make a scene,” she whispers to me.

  I share a glance with Noah and Mohammad, then nod my head from Mohammad to Naomi, urging him to do something.

  He knows instantly what I’m getting at because Mohammad walks over to her and places his hands on her hips.

  She looks up from the floor, her expression changing from anger to shock. And that’s exactly what I wanted—for her to forget about Olivia. It’s her birthday, and she should be having fun.

  “I have to say, Naomi, this dress is definitely working for you,” Mohammad says. “Sexy and sweet, all at once. Dance with me?”

  Naomi’s expression softens, and then she blushes. I look at Noah. He looks back at me with the same amount of surprise. We watch as Mohammad lays it on thick.

  “Yeah,” I can hear her whisper, nodding at him. “Thanks.”

  She waves her hand at the DJ, which is apparently the signal for a slow song. She wraps her arms around Mohammad’s neck. And I guess that’s the benefit of renting out the club. You can change from grinding music to something sweet, just like that.

  I look around, trying to see if I can find Harry and Olivia, but I don’t see either of them. I see Mohammad hand Naomi the flask from his pocket, and she takes a sip.

  “Relax,” Noah says, now at my side.

  “Don’t tell me to relax,” I say, still pissed off.

  Because where the hell are Harry and Olivia?

  Noah puts his hands on my waist. I’m standing with my hands at my sides, not sure what to do. But Noah grabs my hands, putting them onto his chest before grabbing my waist again.

  “You caused a scene,” he states, and I instantly want to punch the chest my hands are resting against.

  “Are you fucking serious, Noah?” I try to untangle his arms from around me in disbelief, but he firmly holds me.

  “Let me finish,” he says, pulling me closer.

  I can feel his warm breath on my cheek, and it causes me to stay silent.

  “What you did for Naomi was kind. But you can’t let Olivia get to you.”

  I want to scream at him that Olivia is the one who started things. She’s the one who started yelling and calling me names.

  “I know,” I admit, feeling a little defeated. “But Harry didn’t say anything to defend me. None of you did.”

  I look at him, hurt.

  He pulls me closer, wrapping one hand tighter against my waist. The other he brings up to my hair, sliding it down to my exposed back. He’s comforting me and it’s nice.

  “I’m not sure how to handle any of this,” he admits with a sigh.

  “That makes two of us.”

  The song ends, the music switching back to something upbeat. All I want to do is go hide in the corner. To sit by myself.

  Because my head is spinning. And I’m upset.

  But I can’t do that.

  I can’t let any of it bother me.

  It’s stupid drama.

  And what Olivia said doesn’t mean anything.

  Harry doesn’t think that about me, and I’m sure that’s what he whispered to her.

  I decide having a good time is the best revenge, so I stay put, dancing with Mohammad. Naomi moves from one group to the next, smiling and having fun. Noah is even giving it his best shot, moving back and forth. It brings a smile to my face because this is all we wanted. To dance, drink, laugh, have a good time.

  And I actually am.

  Mohammad disappears, passing the flask to Noah, and now, it’s just him, Naomi, and me dancing. We all take a sip, one after the other, letting the alcohol settle in. Naomi is grinning and swaying to the beat.

  We’re dancing together, but at some point, Noah leaves to chat with someone else. I don’t care though, because I’m tipsy and feeling happy. Naomi is fun. She’s dancing and throwing her arms in the air, and I do the same, grinning. A cute guy comes up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist to give her a hug.

  Harry pushes through the crowd after a few songs, coming toward me.

  “I think we should go,” he announces.

  But I’m kinda buzzed. I’m finally having a nice time and really not ready to leave yet.

  “I think we should stay. Besides, I thought you wanted to be at this party?” I ask, wondering why he wants to leave. I mean, apart from the drama. But I figure that’s part of what he liked about it. Making an entrance. Grabbing people’s attention. He likes to be the focus, obviously.

  “I thought it would be a good time. See kids from school get fucked up. Watch as they attempt to flirt. See how short the dresses get.” He grins, eyeing my legs. “But now, I’m bored. There’s enough stiffness in this fucking place to make me unable to move.” He takes a swig from a new flask, handing it to me.

  “All right.” I shrug, agreeing with him, letting the alcohol burn my throat as it goes down.

  “Noah,” Harry calls across the dance floor.

  Noah turns toward the sound of his name. When his eyes find Harry’s, they share a nod, and Noah ends his conversation.

  “What’s up?” Noah asks, joining us.
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  “We need to find a better time,” Harry says, slurring a little. “Mohammad is going to fare the weather of this sinking ship alone. Thinks he can get into Sarah’s pants or some shit.”

  “Right,” Noah says, looking toward Mohammad, who is grinding against the girl. “What do you want to do then?”

  “I want,” Harry emphasizes, resting his hands on Noah’s shoulders, “to have some fun. With you and Mallory. Just the three of us. Fuck this party. I’m over it.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t just mad that Olivia yelled at you?” Noah asks, raising his eyebrows.

  Harry doesn’t look at Noah, but I do.

  Because what. The. Fuck?

  She yelled at him too?

  “Bitch,” he mutters, looking hurt.

  Does he still like her? Is he just messing around with me? He didn’t stand up for me, but I thought it was because he was trying to defuse the situation.

  Noah’s face softens, and I realize that he might have been right all along. I’m just coming in, messing things up.

  And I think I might start crying.

  Harry looks at me, and I can’t hold his eyes because my lip starts quivering.

  I turn, pushing past Harry, upset.

  I have to get out of here. Harry tries to grab on to my arm, but I pull out of his grip.

  What am I even doing here? Am I just entertainment to him?

  When I got here, I thought I would be fine with that. It’s not that long of a time. But then, it started to become more. And the way he looks at me, kisses me, I know he feels something. But I should have known how he felt when he didn’t say anything to Olivia.

  I push through the crowd, escaping into the restroom. No one is at the counter, but I burst into one of the stalls, wanting to be alone. I try to push the door shut, but then someone is behind me, moving into the stall with me.

  “Mal,” Noah says, sliding the lock closed.

  “You were right,” I say, crying, pushing my face into my palms. “You were right before. About Harry. About everything.”