Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

TUESDAY MORNING.

It’s a Tuesday morning.

I woke up sad and dejected.

A literal frown was etched along the lines of my face, my lips were turned down, and the urge to get out of bed just wasn’t there.

After the little encounter, I had dragged my stupid ass to bed.

Falling asleep after much-needed turning and tossing, laying numerous curses on Dylan Emerton.

Now I’m just bleak. Sad. Tired. Hurt. Angry.

All at once. Weird?

That doesn’t even sum it all quite.

Aside from all of that, I had a bad dream.

I’ve had bad dreams from the fire, my parents finding out then casting me out.

Those were normal.

This however was about a different subject. A delicate one. One I had chained and kept locked threw the key in the deepest sea and last night, someone found a spare.

You’re thinking right.

Brandon. Dylan. Camilla. Party. Two years ago.

I had that again.

After the encounter, they were tons of them. For weeks I could not sleep, I resorted to pills just to take the pain away and while I thought falling asleep was the most difficult task, once I got past it something else came through.

Nightmares.

They were my punishment as I slept. They haunted it and shoved my worst fears down my throat.

I’ll wake up panting. Funny I’ll scream once or two. Dearest parents were never home to notice them.

It was hard. Pills. Tossing. Screaming. All of it drained the life out of me.

I thought of therapy, but I couldn’t do that. I was a minor, I need parents consent.

What a joke.

I did the only thing I could. I went through it alone.

After a while, they eventually reduced and somehow I managed to cage it for good

Until last night.

They had resurfaced in full force after a year.

Great.

There must be painkillers in this room, I’ll need some eyeliner and makeup for this dull face due to lack of sleep, then a very hot coffee so I don’t slump on the way.

It’s last year all over again.

****

Shutting my door, I released my grip on the knob, spinning cooly then sighting Dylan at the far end of the hallway, very close to the stairs.

I stop dead in my tracks taking a second to look at him, really look at him.

He can’t see me, I’d like to think that instead of the obvious ignoring game.

However, it also seemed like he didn’t get any sleep either from the bags visible under his eyes. No makeup to conceal that.

Just then, he tilts his head thus meeting my viewing gaze, he averts his eyes seconds later, making a move to rush down the stairs.

I squeezed my eyes tightly.

I don’t need to react. He’s at fault. He’s the one with baseless accusations. I did nothing wrong and as such, I have nothing to say to him.

Whenever he returns to his senses, we can talk.

Nevertheless, I proceed to go down the stairs, Dylan wasn’t there which meant he left without taking breakfast or was somewhere in the house.

Blake was a no show as well. Thankfully.

After drinking a cup of coffee, I picked my bag laying over the stool, striding out of the house to wait in the car for mother and father.

I detest this idea of driving me to school.

It’s not working out as I’d hoped.

****

“Umm dear, we’re leaving on Thursday.”

They announced. We’re almost at school. It’s been a quiet ride all through and when I get something from either of them, it’s this.

Parents of the fucking year.

“Of course you are.”

Sarcasm was dripping from my tone as I look away, staring at the window, the grass was better off than those two.

“You’re free to go out, you’re not grounded anymore.”

Dad says as he pulls over by the school. Some sort of bribe? It’s funny because if he even knew me, he’d understand this grounding meant nothing.

I do not go out. But he spends more time with strangers to notice how evolved his daughter was in her teenage years.

It’s all good.

“I don’t care about that dad.”

I respond coldly and step out of the car closing the door not so lightly.

I march towards the school, anger coursing through my veins.

****

At the school gate, a bus is parked, I halt for a moment and observe the environment.

Students were getting into it. For a second I’m confused, then it occurs that it’s still soccer week. Yesterday was their turn to come here, today is ours.

And I recall Dylan asking me to come with them.

We argued, he’s being stupid and I can sincerely stay back just out of spite. Would he even notice or care?

I released a deep breath.

I stay glued to the bus watching it fill up, contemplating what my next steps would be.

I made a promise. He brings a jerk, but I’ll still make good on that promise. I guess I’ll go.

With that concluded, I don’t bother going towards my locker, my bag isn’t that heavy anyway, plus the bus is almost at max capacity.

I went straight for it to look like a red stain in a shirt. These people were talking and chatting, I seemed weird and odd.

Plus there aren’t any soccer players on it, there is a section reserved at the back though. No cheerleaders either, that must be where they’ll stay.

Paula will get on this too.

Maybe I can stay back.

“Where do you think you’re going bitch? This will be the second time I’ll have to explain exactly where your place is. This bus isn’t for people like you so don’t cross me. Get the fuck off!”

Paula yelled.

Standing at the first stair leading inside, I take a small spin and turn to face the devil herself.

Must have summoned her by thinking.

That’s not all. Miranda and her goons are there too.

The hatred in Miranda’s eyes is visible from a mile off, but she can’t exactly stand up for me

I don’t ever want to live a life like hers.

“This bus is for cheerleaders, teammates not ugly ducklings and boring people which pretty much defines you.”

She added as her minions giggle. All except Miranda.

“Now beat it because I’ll hate to do something we both regret. The locker room was just your day of grace, today is a reckoning. Don’t test me.”

She threatens, spitting every word out of spite, her tone reeks of jealously and maybe a little hatred underneath.

She’s right. Dylan cut her short the other time.

She gets to “bully” me now simply because he isn’t here.

Too bad for her.

I don’t need anyone to stand up for me.

Twice i’ve been hurt and tossed around.

The first by Brandon Reed. I was tipsy and irresponsible, the second when Paula caught me off guard in the hall.

That’s where I draw the line. That’s where it ends.

I take a step down the stair and march towards her, enjoying my slow pace, watching as her eyes dart across my legs then my face, curiosity twinkling in these vicious eyes.

“This bus belongs to the students, not you or the soccer team. I choose whether or not to attend the game and as you can see, I’m attending. Now I can stand here and let you spout stupid and baseless threats, but I won’t. I won’t because that’ll mean you’re even worth listening to ”

I retorted, pushing my head forward at some point

All of them gasped which ass good, it concealed Miranda’s chuckle.

I nearly let one out of my own.

“I will end you.”

“As for what? I’d like to see you come at me instead of talking all the time.”

I took a step forward, daringly.

Her brows shot up.

“I thought I made myself clear that Camilla is off limits to you. I had thought you’d stop this. Paula.”

Dylan boomed behind us

I looked over her head and he was marching towards us, a few of his mates followed behind.

I let out a surprise scoff, I didn’t think he’d say something if he saw this.NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

I was wrong.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. She was trying to get on this bus. It’s not her place….”

“She was trying to get on the bus because I asked her to come with. She’s mine. She’s with me. Don’t ever make the mistake of taunting her. You’ll have me to deal with.”

He says firmly. I cross my arm over my chest. Paula’s eyes switch back to mine, she glares hard, stomps her feet over the grass and rushes towards the bus.

Her “girls” follow quickly, Miranda giving me a thumbs up before she gets inside.

That’s when I finally let the chuckle slip out.

“I was handling myself fine.”

I gaze at him as the distance between us shortens.

“I could see that.”

The smirk is back.

“He called me his.”

I mumbled under my breath. What does this mean? Aren’t we even arguing?

“She’s mine.”

His words echo softly at the back of my head.

“You’re a jerk Dylan. What you did last night was jerk-ish if that’s a word.”

I called him out. The smirk on his face disappeared completely.

****

*Author’s Note*

*Apologies for not posting throughout the weekend, I decided to take a rest for myself. I’m back now. Daily updates continue. Please drop your thoughts in the comment section. C.*