They Don't Warn You

I'm the kind of person to be in love with Harry Styles though I've never met him. I'm not the kind to memorize every single family member or person he's become acquainted with. I swear to you, I had no idea who Ben Selley was. I'm also not the kind of person to turn a guy away when we're having fun.
Unfortunately, these facts have kind of gotten me into trouble. Ben has dubbed me his girlfriend without my permission, and I'm the kind of girl to go along with it. Ben is the kind of guy to let it slip his mind that he never told you that the cousin he's introducing you to is Harry Styles.
I know Harry isn't the type of person to treat me the way that he does. I watch him treat everyone else like they're the greatest thing to walk the earth. Because he doesn't look at me that way, the little things mean everything. Even though hope comes around so seldom, I'm the kind of person that still makes Harry Styles my world.

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 "Hey babe," Ben says as I step inside his room. "I want to go out to dinner tonight. You good with that?" He's already breezing around the living, grabbing his keys and wallet, and he plants a little kiss on my lip as he walks by me.

"I was planning on just chilling here tonight and getting some reading done," I tell him, holding up my book as I try to keep my eyes on him. I feel like I'm watching a pinball bounce back and forth and all around.

"You read too much. Give your eyes a break!" he calls as he wanders into his room. I feel like they need a break from watching him move around so much.

"It's homework, though!" I call.

"It can wait. You need to eat, right?" he asks as he steps out of his room again. He comes up to me and sweeps me into his arms. "How else will you survive? You can't read books when you're dead."

"Don't say that," I reply quickly, my eyes wide as I cover his mouth. "There must be books in heaven."

"Must be," he mumbles. I drop my hand to let him speak. "A never ending library full of them. That would be heaven to you. I just realized I didn't give you a proper greeting." He slides his hands to grip my waist, then gives me a good kiss. This sort of thing would have given me butterflies a short amount of time ago, but I've gotten it used to it now.

"No, you were too busy thinking of food," I agree. I smile at him fondly and sweep his hair away from his forehead.

I like him like this, sweet and attentive. Not that I don't usually like him. Usually I do. It's just we have our routine. Every day I come here at 4, and then we do whatever-hang out, go to dinner or to the movies. He's so spontaneous, which is usually really fun, unless it's those days where I want to stay at his place and read and he's set on going out to dinner. Or those days when he's decided to go out with friends and neglected to tell me, so I'm left to sit outside his room reading my book until he calls me back and says he'll be home at such and such a time. And of course, he usually isn't home at said time. He's almost always late.

"What's the matter?" he asks, making me realize that I have basically begun to glare at him without even realizing it.

"Oh. Nothing. Sorry," I reply, trying smooth out my expression.

"There must be something," he says, letting me go. "You always speak your mind or have something witty to say."

"It's nothing. Where were you thinking of eating?"

"All right. I'll let you go, but don't think I didn't pick up on the fact that you were subtly changing the subject. Anyway, where do we always go?" he asks with a smile.

"To the Craicpot it is."

For as long as I've known him, the Craicpot is the restaurant we've gone to. The first time we went out, he took me to the Craicpot. Every time we've gone out to eat, except for a handful of times, it's been to the Craicpot. That's one thing about Ben you can count on. If he says he wants to go out to eat, he'll most likely take you to the Craicpot.

The Craicpot is a pretty accurate reflection of his personality. The name alone screams Ben. In case you aren't familiar with the term, the word craic refers to lightheartedness, fun, etc. It's especially used in Ireland. The name of the restaurant is also clearly a play on the word crackpot, meaning an eccentric, foolish person. It's a clever name, and especially fitting for Ben to be hanging out there constantly.

It's predominately a bar, but of course there are things to eat as well. If you're there for dinner, or on a date, you eat outside, under beautiful strung lights, looking out at the busy L.A. street. The food and drinks are Irish themed, and the atmosphere is beautiful, especially at night.

It's also pretty near campus. Ben and I walk there all the time. That's definitely a pro, especially for him, since he likes to partake in a few drinks on occasion. Or more accurately, there are few occasions where he doesn't partake in a few drinks.

Tonight, like many other nights, I have Ben's hand in one of mine and my book in the other. He leads me to a table outside, which I'm happy about because not only is it prettier and classier, it means for one, he probably won't get wasted, and two, with the street lights and the table, it'll be easier to sneak-read my book. It would have been harder to hide sitting at the bar, my book all exposed and out in the open on my lap. Plus it's darker inside, even more of a strain on my eyes.

Ben and I already know what we want, so we tell the waiter our food requests along with our drink requests. To my surprise, Ben asks for a soda. "So you're definitely going to your parents' for spring break?" he asks me after the waiter takes our order.

"Yeah, that's the plan."

"So there's no way I can convince you to come to San Diego with us?"

"What? San Diego?" I repeat, confused.

"Yeah, we just decided we're going. Didn't I mention it?"

"No." This is exactly the first time I'm hearing of his spring break plans. "Who's us?"

"Just me and a couple of the lads, you know."

"Sounds like fun," I say.

"So you won't come?"

"You know I've been planning to see my family," I state.

"I know, just thought I'd give it a shot. I'll miss you, though."

"You'll have too much fun to miss me." I know I will survive without him for a few days.

"You're probably right," he agrees teasingly. "Anyway, that's why I wanted to go to dinner with you tonight. We leave early tomorrow, so I want to call it a night after this."

"Tomorrow?" I repeat. I guess it shouldn't surprise me. I've already described to you how last-minute he is.

"Yeah. I still have to pack and get ready yet. You can hang around for that, if you'd like, but I do want to make sure I get enough sleep."

"No, that's fine. You just move really fast is all. I really do have to read my book, anyway," I say, lifting my book from my lap for proof.

"So I'll walk you home after dinner?" he asks.

"Sounds good."

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