Claimed.

Dating.

“I still can’t believe you tricked me like that,” Dylan shook his head at me, his arm around my shoulders as we walked to a restaurant for an early dinner. Today was our second date and he was treating me out since he won the little game we had.

Before my kidnapping with Harry, Dylan and I had played a game in our English class. I bet him that if I ran back to our little field for lunch before him I would take him out to dinner, but if he won he would take me. Dylan was a little to concerned with winning to realize the actual bet.

 “Hey, if you listened better you would have realized the trick. It’s kind of like saying let’s flip a coin,” I said, “Tails I win, heads you lose.”

 “I don’t get it, there’s nothing wrong with that,” he frowned at me, pushing open the door to the restaurant.

 I walked through it and laughed, “You’re even dumber than I thought.”

 “That’s not very nice,” he pouted before he came up behind me and put his hands on my hips, “So what’s the trick?”

 “Tails I win, heads you lose,” I repeated, “Think it over.”

 “Table for two?” the hostess asked.

 “Yup,” I replied.

 “Oh!” Dylan exclaimed, “I get it now.”

The hostess gave him a weird look as he stepped around to stand beside me, elbowing my side, “That’s a bad trick.”

 “Says the guy who had trouble figuring it out,” I teased. The model looking hostess looked Dylan up and down and I saw him roll his eyes before he slipped an arm around my waist. She narrowed her eyes at me for a second before she plastered on a fake smile and left to find an empty table.

 “Wow, bitch much?” I arched an eyebrow at her retreating back.

 He shrugged, “I’m used to it.”

 “I’m sure you are, hot stuff,” I rolled my eyes, bumping his hip with my own as the hostess came back.

 “Follow me,” she said sweetly. She led us through the restaurant, which was surprisingly almost empty but then again it was only four o’clock, most people were getting ready to eat dinner at five instead.

 When she sat us at a booth in the back Dylan thanked her for as he said, "Helping himself and his 'girlfriend' out," earning us a glare as a we slid in, she left with out another word.

 “You know, I’m curious about this Harry character,” Dylan said, folding his hands on the table, “You said he was a family friend…did you guys spend a lot of time with each other as kids?”

 I snorted, taking his hands in mine over the table, “Nah, I didn’t actually meet the guy until this year. Like I said, his family is friends with mine. I never did say he was friends with me.”

 “How old is he anyways? He looks like he’s twenty,” Dylan said, rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand.

 I shrugged, “Not a clue.” He may look twenty but he’s probably ten times that, I thought, and he sure as hell ain’t going to tell me how old he is for real. “But he’s definitely too old.”

 “Too old for you?” he teased.

 “Much too old,” I said, leaning over the table to him, “I prefer guys my own age.”

 “You’re seventeen and I’m eighteen,” he arched an eyebrow.

 “I’ll be eighteen in a few months,” I reminded him, grinning.