Last First Kiss *HarryStyles*

Chapter 12.

 A/N, I just want to do an author's note to inform you lovlies, there’s over fifty people reading my book and it just makes my heart melt. love youu<333

 I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock throughout my bed room. It startled me of course, because I basically fell off my bed.

“Honey? What was that loud sound?” Jonah asks me.

“Oh, I just fell off my bed.” I say, wanting him to leave. “You don’t have to worry about me Jonah.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t.” He smiles smugly and walks away. God I hate him. 

Beep, beep…

Ugh, my phone again. Oh it’s only Harry.

New text message.

Harry:

Morning babe. xx Ready to go out today?

Aww, I text him back this:

I‘m really excited, where are you taking me?

He texts back almost immediately.

It’s a secret, meet you outside:*

I smile at his text and screenshot the conversation. I’m almost ready for school, I just need makeup. I do my usual routine, wash my face, I apply BB cream, stick concealer, and I finish with fine powder. After my routine I apply my mascara, grab my backpack and a piece of bread and run out the door.

“Bye mom! I’m going to school!” I yell and wave goodbye to her and completely ignore Jonah. As I close the door, my eyes meet Harry’s green orbs.

“Tell me where you’re taking me!” I whine.

“Never.” He replies, his dimples showing making me show mine. Ahhh, am I rushing things? I ask myself. I’ll ask Libby during lunch.

***

“Class we have a new student,” my chemistry teacher told us, “his name is Brandon, and I suppose all of you will be respectful to him.” When I saw Brandon, I saw dirty blond hair, kind brown eyes, and someone who I pictured works at Hollister. “Some sort of beach kind of boy.” I thought to myself. Brandon was staring at me, and only me. I’m almost positive Harry noticed, I mean he wrapped his arm around my man shoulders, and gave the innocent Hollister model a death glare.  Surprisingly, hours turned to minutes, and the day was over. I have most of my classes with Brandon, except history, math, and French.

“Are you ready to go?” Harry asks me, like nothing ever happened in chemistry.

“Not so fast Styles. I know what you did there in Chemistry.” I say putting my hand in front of his hard abs.

“I just want him to know you’re mine.” He whispers wrapping his arms around my waist.

 “Okay but I just want you to know, he’s not my type, beach-loving, tan skinned, blond is just not my type.” I say honestly.

“Oh, so what is your type?” he asks eagerly.

“You want to know my type?”

“Yeah…”

“Tell me where you’re taking me!”

“Well there’s this little café in San Francisco, and since we live so close, and it’s Friday, we could go shopping a have fun today, and tomorrow we could have a sweatpants, pajamas, movie, lazy day.”

“That sounds perfect.” I say.

“Now tell me you’re type!” He says poking my stomach.

“My type is you.” I whisper.

 "Delilah, I think I'm in love with you."