knife under my pillow [zack martin]

episode seventeen: rollin with the holmies

chapter thirteen: croquet with british d-bags

docked in london, i was sitting at the juice bar waiting for zack to finish work so we could walk around london... not my sister from another mister london. "man, i love london" marcus says, walking over to us. "would you stop? she's never going to date you" zack breaks it to him. marcus scoffed. "i was talking about the city. but i would love to take a tour of the other london too" marcus says, sitting down next to me.

"dude. she's my sister. and sorry to rain on your parade but she's very picky about the guys she dates" i tell him. "you gotta be rich" zack told him. "i'm rich" marcus answered. "you gotta be tall" i say. "i'm rich" marcus answered again. "well looks like that guys both" zack said pointing to the staircase where london and some guy were walking down. "hey guys. have you met the lord?" london asked. "well, once i rode my bike into a tree and i saw this bright white light and i wasn't quite sure if it was the lord-" marcus said, 

"not that lord. the snobby d-bag right next to her" i say to marcus. "d-bag?" the guy asked. "yep" i answer. the guy looked offended. "oh not that lord. this lord, lord hartley wicket. he is 25th in line for the throne" london introduces. "ah. that happens all the time with the buffet. you can use the employee throne back here if you like. there's a sign about washing your hands but that's just a suggestion. so what would you like?" zack asked, putting ice in a cup and placing the cup on the bench. 

"no. like a king, prince or whatever" i explained to my clueless boyfriend. "from you nothing" hartley said to zack "and that right there is why i said you're a d-bag" i tell him, pointing at him. he rolled his eyes at me. "did you just roll your eyes at me?" i ask, standing up from my chair. i heard zack, marcus and london 'oooh'. he nodded. "yes i did. want me to do it again?" hartley asked me. i grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. "do you want one arm? then don't. f**kin. roll. your. eyes. at. me. or london, zack or marcus" i say, smirking. i let go of his arm and sat back down, like nothing happened.

"that was hot" zack muttered. i looked at him and i got a soft kiss on my lips. "well enough chit chat. i'll pick you up after my football match" royal d-bag says to london, linking his arm with her's. "i like football. shoulder pads and makeup" london says, smiling and doing hand movements show make up and pushed her shoulders up showing shoulder pads. guess the football i taught her didn't stay in her head. "so what do you play? uptight end?" marcus asked the hartley. "i'm not talking about that wimpy offspring of rugby you colonists call football. i'm talking about what you yanks call soccer" hartley says, mocking the word soccer.