Noah looks concerned.
“Maybe your dad thinks the smell of flowers will cover his tracks,” Mohammad offers.
I set down my sandwich, not feeling good about tonight. Not feeling good about any of it.
“Harry, are you sure you want to be there tonight?” I ask.
“I have to be there,” Harry replies, bringing his eyes to mine.
“I’m sure Helen could call your mom. She could tell your parents this is ridiculous. Mohammad’s parents have to agree,” I say, looking to Mohammad for support.
Mohammad swallows his food before hesitantly looking at us. “I haven’t mentioned all of that to them exactly.”
“What?” I almost shout.
“My parents wouldn’t take the news well. I wouldn’t be allowed over there anymore,” Mohammad replies.
“Thank you for thinking about me,” Harry says to me. “But it will be fine. Maybe it will bring us closer as a family or something.”
“Do you actually believe that?” I ask seriously.
“Who knows? The worst that can happen is I don’t let my parents down, and we get some free champagne and then bail when my parents turn their attention away.” Harry looks at me like he’s waiting for me to agree.
“Okay.” I nod.
“Good,” he says, grabbing his soda. “Speaking of the party, I told my parents not to invite Olivia.”
“Really?” Noah asks with interest.
“Look, this whole thing is a fucking charade. I don’t even want you lot there, honestly. I find it repulsive, what my parents are doing. But I know that I’m going to need you there. All of you. But I don’t need her there,” Harry says seriously.
“We’ll be there to support you,” Noah replies.
I nod in agreement.
Harry’s eyes flash with pain, causing Mohammad to pat his shoulder.
“Sorry I’ve been talking about it like it’s just some party. I was being a prick.”
“Nah,” Harry replies. “I’m just nervous.”
Noah speaks up. “You know Mia will be there as well. She’s going with Sophia and her parents.”
“You had your talk with your parents last night, right?” Mohammad asks Harry.
“Yeah. I’d rather not spoil lunch with talk of it.” Harry pushes his tray away from him. “Let’s discuss it tonight. What time are you supposed to come round?”
“Half past seven,” Noah answers.
“Right. Come at seven o’clock. I’ll explain everything then,” Harry says.
“Sounds good,” I reply.
“You should have seen the sunrise this morning,” Mohammad says, changing the subject.
Noah extends out part of his sandwich, offering it to Harry. He won’t take it at first, but Noah doesn’t pull his hand back. Finally, Harry accepts it and takes a bite. He chews a few times before swallowing it down with a gulp of soda.
“You were up early enough to see it?” Harry asks with disbelief.
“Yeah, Mallory woke me up,” Mohammad starts, but I cut him off.
“To watch the sunrise. I’ve got a great view overlooking the park.”
“Yeah …” Mohammad says, his forehead creasing. “Anyway, it was spectacular. I could get used to that hotel.”
“What are you going to do when I move?” I tease.
Mohammad rolls his eyes, clearly not thrilled with the idea. “Just let me live happily in denial for now, okay?”
“When are you moving out?” Harry asks me.
“I’m not sure. Whenever my parents buy a place, I guess.”
Noah slides me a bag of carrot sticks as he pulls out an apple for himself.
“So, what color was it?” Noah asks.
“What color was what?” Mohammad says, looking up from his chicken.
“The sunrise,” Noah says.
“Pink,” I answer, thinking back to this morning. “Almost iridescent. Beautiful.”
“It was.” Mohammad nods his head in agreement.
“Bollocks,” Harry declares. “Now, I’m jealous. Why couldn’t I have been invited round to see the pink sunrise?” He pushes out his lips and tries to look between Mohammad and me with pathetic puppy-dog eyes.
But it takes everything in him not to crack a grin.
“Would you have woken up if we’d called you?” I raise my eyebrows at Harry, bringing a carrot stick to my mouth.
Because I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
“Probably not. But I could have at least seen the missed calls and felt included,” he replies, placing his hand over his supposedly crushed heart. He must not be too upset though because there’s a smile resting on his lips.
“I promise to call next time.” I laugh.
“And what about now? I’m gutted about missing out.” Harry continues to pout.
Mohammad just laughs at him. “Let’s plan on watching it. All of us, together.”
“Let’s do it,” Noah agrees as the lunch bell goes off.
We clear off the table, and Harry and Noah walk next to one another down the hallway. I wrap my hand through Mohammad’s arm, walking in step with him.
“I heard that you were upset about the farewell party being canceled,” I say, bringing up what Noah told me in Art.
“I wasn’t upset,” Mohammad says, his voice faltering.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.
“Do you and Noah have to talk about everything?” Mohammad whines.
“Apparently. Why didn’t you tell me you were upset?” I ask, holding his arm tighter.
“Because I didn’t want to upset you more. I was looking forward to us all being together before you left. And since Friday, things haven’t been the same. But after the weird drop-ins last night, I was over it. Shit needs to go back to normal,” Mohammad says firmly.
“Yeah, but, Mohammad, you told me I needed to give them time. And Harry wouldn’t have stayed anyway because of his family dinner.”
“Doesn’t matter. I talked to them about it,” Mohammad says when we get to his locker.
“Seriously? And how did they take it?”
“Who knows? I just made my demands,” Mohammad answers as he opens his locker and gets out a textbook.
“You didn’t wait for an answer?”
“Of course not,” Mohammad replies, closing his locker. “I made my demands, and they were final. No questions.”
I tilt my head at him, trying to imagine Mohammad demanding anything. Let alone from Harry or Noah.
Normal isn’t good.
Geography
I wave at the girls before I sit down, and then I turn back to face Harry in Geography.
“Did Mohammad demand that things go back to normal?” I ask, butterflies forming in my stomach.
Harry’s blue eyes flash up to mine. “Don’t worry about that.”
It’s all he says, but it’s answer enough.
“I never want you to feel pushed,” I reply, immediately feeling guilty.
“Trust me, I never do anything that I don’t want to do,” Harry replies with a cocky grin.
“Even for Noah or Mohammad?” I question, not convinced.