Chapter Nine

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A/N: Helloooo :) SO, this is rather a busy (and long!) chapter, lots of drama happening for you all! :P I hope it doesn't get confusing at all, but if it does, just ask in the comments, and I'll try my best to clarify/explain :P hope you enjoy, and much love! :)

The club that April had arranged to meet George and his friends at didn’t look quite as classy as the one which Ezra had chosen. However, George, who met them outside with Carlos (still pouting at Morgie) and Carmen (still eyeing up Will), assured them that it was widely renowned as the best club in town. Therefore, with some trepidation, they entered.

April immediately found George at her side, smiling as widely as he had been last time she’d seen him, and they fell into easy conversation.

‘How many more days are you here?’ he asked of her, as he paid for her drink at the bar.

‘Three more full days,’ April replied, realizing suddenly that the holiday was slipping away before her very eyes. She was going to be gutted to leave Spain.

George made a sad face. ‘Spain will not be the same without you,’ he said, taking a sip of his own drink and meeting her eyes.

April felt rather overwhelmed by how attractive he looked. She smiled at him. ‘You’d better make the most of me, then,’ she said flirtatiously, which, though seemingly surprising George, made him grin back, and pull her towards the dance floor.

Will and Oscar were also by the bar, getting drinks for the others, who were sat in a little cushioned area away from the main dance floor.

‘So,’ Will said, as the bar man began mixing up some drinks.

‘So?’ repeated Oscar, looking at him rather confusedly. 

‘You and Morgie.’ Will gave his friend a look.

‘What about me and Morgie?’ Oscar asked warily.

‘When’re you going to start ripping each other’s clothes off, like I can tell you so desperately want to do?’ Will inquired, looking him straight in the eye, his face miraculously staying straight.

Oscar fought the mental images that Will’s words had conjured up in his mind. Morgie with her clothes on was hot enough. He didn’t want to even start to comprehend how she’d look wearing absolutely nothing. Too late. His traitor of a brain had gone into overload.

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