how you get the boy

four

Throughout my nineteen – verging on twenty – years of existence, I had been told a number of times that I, Tenley Beckworth, did not have the patience of a saint. Especially by my brother, Nick, who strongly believed that he's the only person who had it, for he succeeded in putting up with me – the most annoying little sister one could ever ask for, according to him – for twenty years before he eventually moved out of the house, leaving me alone with my parents until I got accepted into UCL.

But that's not the point. The point was that Nick was dead wrong; I did have the patience of a saint too. If I didn't, how could I deal with someone like Harry Styles on a daily basis?

"Caramel macchiato for Alice!" He called, making me flinch at the name he'd just used to call me. Turning around to meet his smug grin, I masked my surprised expression with one that showed annoyance – the one look I happened to give to him almost each time we bumped into each other. I was beginning to worry that this look might be etched on my face for the rest of my life. I didn't want to be that person with an annoyed expression. But then again, when Harry opened his mouth to speak, I realised that maybe I just didn't care if I was stuck with that face. "You're not going to ask me how I know your middle name?"

Knowing that he thrived on riling me up, I decided to ignore him by taking my coffee from the counter and leaving The Cup immediately. Besides, I was pretty certain that he'd found my Facebook account, which I'd abandoned years ago, and that was how he came to know my middle name. So I chose not to entertain him.

But Harry had the tendency to mess up my wise plan.

"Aw, you're not up for a bit of a morning chat with me, Alice?" Harry asked, lips stretching into a shit-eating grin as he pulled the cup back before I could grab it from him and leave. "Reckon 'm a good company."

"You're annoying," was all I said, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms in front of my chest. I blamed the absence of caffeine in my system for the unoriginal and overused remark I'd just made.

The question of whether he had other things to do or not – like go to classes – sat heavily on my tongue, but as soon as it came into my mind, I remembered how that witty remark resulted in me arriving to class ten minutes late.

He ended up talking about his major, telling me that most of his classes were either online or began in the afternoon which was why he always got the morning shift at The Cup and a few hours shift during the evening when he was done with his classes.

I didn't know how he managed to convince his manager to give him two short shifts in one day and I didn't want to know either. Harry Styles seemed like a person who's good at persuading someone – excluding me, obviously – and I assumed that all he had to do was turn on his charm so he could get what he wanted.

"How'd you sleep last night, Alice? Well?" He questioned, kinking an eyebrow at me before he added, "Heard you snoring so it must be good, yeah?"

I hated everyone who lived in London for choosing not to swarm The Cup this morning like those other mornings. With the lack of people in this place and the help of his co-worker who was attending the two customers that were ordering their drinks, Harry could take as much time as he wanted to taunt me without having to worry that he would create a long line by disregarding his job for a few minutes.

"First of all, do not call me Alice." I said through my gritted teeth. "And second of all, I do not snore-"

"Says everyone who snores," he interjected.

I took in a steady breath, pinching the bridge of my nose and shaking my head at the idiot standing in front of me. "Ugh, why do I bother?" I muttered to myself as I forced a smile, extending my hand towards him, "Could you please hand me my coffee?"