It’s loaded with toast, jam, butter, and honey. There are eggs, meat, and tomatoes. But there’s also a single sliced banana on a plate with a cup of almond butter sitting next to it. I blink, wondering if it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.
“Mohammad, how did you know?” I ask, looking between him and the banana.
“I’m your best friend. It’s my job to know,” he replies proudly.
My mouth slips open as I stare at the banana. Because the only person who knows that my favorite breakfast is toast with almond butter, honey, and banana on top is Noah.
And Noah isn’t here.
I’m not at his house, having him make this for me.
I’m with Mohammad and the girls at a hotel.
“But …” I start.
“Know what?” Naomi asks with interest from the couch.
“What her favorite breakfast is,” Mohammad says brightly, handing me a piece of toast.
“What’s your favorite breakfast?” Olivia asks, grabbing jam and a slice of toast for herself.
“Um, I really like toast with almond butter, banana, and honey,” I explain.
“That sounds disgusting.” Olivia laughs, her nose scrunching up. She pours herself a cup of coffee from the pot and takes her plate and cup over to the dining table.
“You have no idea,” Naomi says from the couch. “When I slept over the other week, she and Noah were eating these bananas he’d sautéed on the stove without anything else! It was mad.”
“Hey,” I cut in, eyeing her. “You ate some too. And if I remember correctly, you liked it.”
“I was being polite,” Naomi disagrees.
I raise an eyebrow at her as she takes a sip of her tea.
“Fine, it wasn’t the worst thing. But it was still strange,” she admits.
“Noah’s like that with his food,” Mohammad says, dumping eggs and sausage onto his plate. He puts two pieces of toast on either side of the mound, like they might somehow hold it all in.
I watch him in amazement.
He glances at me excitedly. But when he sees the toast he gave me still in my hand, he looks confused. I set it down on a plate and look across the spread again, trying to decide what I want.
“Mohammad, would you mind putting jam on a piece of toast for me, please?” Naomi asks.
“I would love to jam your toast,” Mohammad replies with a smirk.
My mouth practically hits the floor with his response.
Because he did not just say that!
Mohammad’s eyes are sparkling, and I watch him slide jam across a piece of toast, looking way too happy about it. I glance over at Naomi, wanting to know what she makes of the situation. But she doesn’t seem to have noticed his play on words.
“Mohammad …” Olivia coughs, setting down her cup of coffee.
She rubs at her temples, looking weirded out. And part of me is right there with her.
I shake my head and refocus on breakfast. I start to build my toast, watching as Mohammad takes their plates to the couch. He hands Naomi hers first, and she grins up at him. He smiles and then sits down. A second later though, he’s inhaling his food.
I shake my head again, looking back down at the cart. I end up making a variation of my almond butter and banana toast. I decide to put the almond butter directly on the banana instead, and then I jam the toast, topping it with eggs.
I don’t know why I force myself to make it differently, but I do. It’s probably because Noah told Mohammad it’s what I like. And for some reason, knowing that he told Mohammad but isn’t here himself … well, it makes me want eggs on my toast instead.
After breakfast, Mohammad goes to shower while Naomi, Olivia, and I drink our coffee and tea. Mohammad doesn’t take very long, and when he joins us again, he’s in his uniform. I check the time, seeing we don’t have that long before we need to head to school.
“I’m going to go change.”
I put my empty plate back on the cart as I head into the closet. I change quickly, and when I join them again, Naomi and Olivia are both in my bedroom.
“Bloody hell. I forgot my skirt,” Olivia says, shoving her pajamas into her duffel with force. She has on her uniform top and jeans.
“Do you want to borrow one?” I offer.
“Thanks, but I need to stop by my house anyway. I forgot my yoga gear as well,” she replies, flaring her eyes.
Naomi presses her lips together before pulling out her phone and checking the time.
“If we leave right now, we won’t be late,” Naomi says, collecting her things. She puts everything into a large tote before pulling it onto her shoulder.
“All right,” Olivia agrees, opening up the bedroom door. She grabs her bags before putting on her coat and walking out into the sitting room with Naomi.
I glance around the bedroom, looking for my bag for school. I finally find it under a pillow that got tossed onto the floor. My room’s a disaster from the festivities last night, but the mess will have to wait until later. I remember what Olivia said about yoga and make sure to throw in my change of clothes for class.
“What’s up?” Mohammad asks Naomi and Olivia when I get into the sitting room. He already wheeled the dining cart out into the hallway and is standing with his backpack in hand.
“I need to stop by my house,” Olivia answers, raising her eyebrows. She looks annoyed with herself.
“Gotcha. We will have to meet you at school. Mia wanted to show me something before class,” Mohammad says as I grab my coat.
“Mia?” I ask, confused.
“I didn’t know you and Mia were friends,” Naomi chimes in as we make our way to the door.
I check my bag, making sure I have my phone, room key, and homework.
“She knows I’m the hottest DJ in town. Wanted to show me a new artist,” Mohammad boasts.
“Hottest DJ?” I question, grinning at him.
“You know I am. Besides, if I recall, you’ve danced many a dances to songs I’ve selected. So, really, all your fun has been because of me and my brilliant music selection,” he says, opening the door for us.
“Sorry I suggested differently.” I chuckle.
“Anyway, we’ll just see you at school then?” Mohammad asks, looking directly at Naomi.
“Yeah.” She flushes, looking down at the floor with a smile. “See you at school.”
“Cool,” Mohammad says, looking a little red himself.
He awkwardly glances at Naomi and then away from her as we wait for the elevator. I look between them and have to bite my lip to keep from cooing. I notice Olivia watching them too. But instead of looking happy, she looks almost spooked by their interaction.
When the elevator dings, I’m pretty sure I hear Olivia mumble, “Finally.”
“Hey!” I call out to Mia when we get to the common room at school.
“Ah, you’re here!” she says, rushing toward me and Mohammad. She gives me a quick hug and nods at Mohammad.
“Your hair is still purple,” I say, looking her over. “Helen must have given in?”
Mia grins. “Noah guilted her into letting me keep it. Isn’t it amazing?”
“Wicked,” Mohammad says, taking in her hair.
“It is,” I agree. “So, what’s going on? Mohammad said you messaged him about music?”