Finally, I see him coming down the hall. He’s walking next to someone and talking, but I don’t recognize the guy he’s speaking to, and at this point, I’ve gotten myself so worked up that I don’t really care about interrupting them.
“Noah,” I call out, trying to grab his attention.
He looks over at me and nods his head before turning in my direction.
I take in a deep breath, trying to calm my stomach, which, at the moment, wants to break free from within me. I’m not sure if I have cartwheels or somersaults or butterflies happening in there, but something—or everything—wants out.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say the second he gets in front of me, before I lose my nerve.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, his jaw tightening in concern.
I press my lips together and squeeze my eyes shut. “No. I mean, yes, but, well … I didn’t get a chance to tell you something yesterday,” I start, trying to figure out how to word this.
“Relax,” Noah says, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m—”
“Yes?” he asks again, tilting his head at me.
His hand stays on my shoulder, and I finally open my mouth again.
“I’m—” I whisper, but the second it comes out of my mouth, Harry throws his arm around Noah’s shoulders. I’m not sure how I didn’t see him before, but he looks between us with a grin.
“Lunch awaits,” he declares, pushing us both in the direction of the cafeteria.
Noah looks over at me, but I just shake my head at him like it’s nothing.
“I’m starving,” Harry comments, walking between us. “Something about History just makes me hungry. What I wouldn’t give to be able to snack through History. At least it would give me something else to do other than to fend off Miss Gunters’s advances. She’s getting bolder.”
“Bolder?” I ask, wondering if he’s kidding or if we should actually be concerned.
“Definitely. She’s been calling on me in class even though she knows that I never know the answer. How else could you explain that?”
“Maybe she’s calling on you to let you know that she knows you don’t know,” Noah replies.
“She’s trying to embarrass you,” I state. Because, come on, how does he not realize that?
“Nah,” Harry says, downplaying it. “She knows I don’t get embarrassed. That would never work anyway. She’s calling on me to make a point, I think,” he replies, contemplating.
“And what exactly is her point?” Noah asks, looking at Harry seriously this time.
“She’s showing me who’s in control,” Harry replies.
I just shake my head as we get to the lunchroom. Harry gets into line. Noah goes with him even though we brought our lunches. And now, I’m starting to freak out. I can’t let them stand in line alone together. What if they talk?
“Noah,” I say casually while my mind is frantically trying to think of something to do or say. “Come sit down. I’m hungry.” I give him my best pout and puppy-dog eyes and pray that he will come sit with me rather than just throw me my lunch.
Noah narrows his eyes at me. “What’s going on?” he asks, clearly noticing my awkwardness as we walk to our table.
“Nothing. I’m just hungry. And getting grumpy,” I say, trying to change the course of the conversation. “And I’ve been meaning to tell you …” I start, knowing that I have to get it out of the way now.
But then Noah stops and looks at me. Really looks at me.
And I instantly wonder about his response.
Is he going to be mad?
Hurt?
Will he throw a fit in front of everyone?
Or will he be upset with Harry?
“I think I did amazing on my Latin test,” I confide, deciding I need to tell him when we actually have time to talk. When we’re alone.
Noah’s looking at me like he isn’t sure he should believe me, but then he finally says, “That’s great.”
“I appreciate the help with studying. I really thought I was screwed, to be honest.”
Noah grins at me. “You’re too hard on yourself. When you get your test back, we should celebrate.”
“That would be nice.”
Noah gets our lunches from his backpack, handing me mine as Mohammad takes a seat next to Noah.
“Hey,” Mohammad says, putting his tray down onto the table.
“Hey,” I reply.
When Mohammad looks at me, I quickly shake my head, already knowing what his question is going to be.
His eyes go wide, and he swallows. “So … that Latin test,” he says.
And I want to slap my hand over my face at his words.
Because they sound so awkward.
And so suspicious.
I mean, come on!
The point is to act normal. Casual.
I roll my eyes at him and have no choice but to go along.
“I think I did good. What about you?” I ask him, pulling out my sandwich, wondering what it will taste like.
I take a bite. I’ve never eaten stew on bread. But it’s a surprisingly good combination. I take another bite before opening up the bag of grapes and popping one into my mouth.
“I don’t know,” Mohammad comments, shoveling in a mouthful of potpie. “I didn’t really study.”
“Do you even need to? You’re always so good about helping me in class.”
Mohammad glances up at me, his pearly smile coming out. “Well, I am pretty good,” he says like it’s no big deal. But I know that it is to him. “But it’s different with tests. My mind always goes blank on something.”
“I’m sure you did fine,” Noah tells him.
I swallow a bite of sandwich and smile at Noah. “Great job with lunch today,” I say, trying not to be awkward.
Noah narrows his eyes in on me. “All right,” he says, clasping his hands together, “what’s going on?” He looks between Mohammad and me, waiting for one of us to explain.
“What?” Mohammad asks, his voice clearly straining. “Nothing.” He attempts to laugh off Noah’s question.
“Well, that confirms it,” Noah says, turning to me. “Mallory?”
“Well … Harry and I—”
The second Harry’s name comes out of my mouth, Noah’s creamy skin goes white, causing me to swallow hard.
“Uh, we are friends again,” I finally say, hoping that at least half of the truth is closer to the truth than I was before. Or whatever.
Noah’s expression changes. Now, he looks confused.
“You talked?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply with a curt smile. “Harry apologized for everything that happened on Saturday.”
“Really?” His lips pull into a flat line.
“So, everything is good between us,” I say, trying to look relaxed when my insides are anything but. “Anyway, let’s just drop it.”
“Right.” Noah takes a bite of his sandwich. “Well, at least things aren’t weird between you two.”
“Exactly,” I confirm.
“Why were you so freaked about telling me?” he asks.