Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

KINGSTON HIGH.

It’s fall so the weather’s only going to get colder. With the arson case laying down, for now, I got up slightly better than the previous day.

The only thing weighing me down was Dylan. Our conversation early this morning.

Ugh.

After getting dressed, I threw my legs down the stairs, turning my head through the entire living room to catch a glimpse of everyone at the same time.

They were all seated at the dining table.

My parents. Dylan’s. Blake of course. Then weird me strutting towards them.

Hopefully, Dylan changed his mind about playing. I

“Good morning,”

I murmured to their hearing, pulling a seat for myself.

They acknowledged in their way and we ate in silence. Blake didn’t speak a word other than nodding his head.

I heard one stair creak, my head snapping in that direction.

Dylan was strolling down the stair slowly, he had a head warmer over his head concealing the bandage used to cover the wound there.

His pants covered the bruises on his knee, but he took each step carefully showing he wasn’t too good on his feet.

“Good morning.”

He greeted, reaching the table.

His chair was relatively close to mine, while my head was ducked trying to minimise as much contact as possible.

****

“I’m never doing that again.”

Dylan commented after we cleared our plates.

“Doing what?”

“What happened at the table this morning. It was weird.”

He added snorting loudly. I agree.

“I did tell you to stay home. Whose fault is it?”

I asked, picking my bag over the couch approaching the front door.

“Brandon.”

He hissed causing a chuckle to fall off my lips.

“Right..”

I trailed off accelerating my footsteps so I could leave before him.

“Tomorrow, I’m on my bike again.”

He whined over again as we got in separate cars.

****

“Camilla, I get the feeling that we should talk about what hall last night.”

He suggested after getting down from our parent’s cars.

I paused for a second giving him the chance to catch up.

“They’re not much to talk about, it was late. I was in my feelings and I blurted something which didn’t make a lot of sense, that’s all.”

I cut in with a forced smile.

He reciprocated it without any further comments. That’s solved. Thankfully.

It’s our turn to head over, so the bus was parked in the lot awaiting everyone’s entry.

I mumbled a prayer seeking help so nothing goes wrong today.

****

We were close to the school by now but then something weird happened. The bus suddenly stopped and came to a halt. The driver got down alongside some teachers to see what went wrong.

“Okay students. It seems like we have a faulty engine. Not fatal but it’ll take a while to get a mechanic and fix it. Today’s game might be delayed or cancelled.”

He announced and a peel of excitement surged through me.

There was muffled groans and snorts on the bus. I had more or less mixed feelings.

**AN HOUR LATER**

A packed bus filled with almost one hundred students had drastically reduced to less than twenty.

Most of them stepped out in groups and began walking towards Richmond High. They should’ve gotten there by now.

I couldn’t risk it especially with Dylan’s leg so I sat patiently waiting for the bus to get fixed.

I wouldn’t mind if it didn’t, it would mean Dylan has more time to rest for tomorrow.

The students left were mostly cheerleaders, Dylan’s teammates and a few others.

“Okay, I’m fucking bored. Let’s play a game or something.” Paula’s minion drawled out dramatically. I think her name is Yvonne possibly.

“Finally! Someone with a plan. What do you have in mind?”

Another student from the back, siding her claim.

I nearly snorted at them both. Not some lame Highschool game. Again.

“Truth or dare.”

Paula chirped and I rolled my eyes. Of course. Predictable.

“You playing?”

Dylan asked behind me. I shook my head In negation making him chuckle. He’s been silent since earlier, barely uttering more than ten words

“Could you play though? I want to have the opportunity to kiss you again.”

He whispered right below my collarbone.

I shuddered all too quickly. It wouldn’t be a bad idea.

****

“Truth or dare Nate…”

A random guy asked. The guy known as Nate had his hands over his jaw, contemplating an answer.

“Truth…” He finally responded.

“Who’s do you think is the hottest girl on the bus right now.”

I rolled my eyes at their stupidity.

Hot? Really?

“Camilla…”

He mumbled freezing my thoughts.

“W-what….”

I stuttered and some students cooed.

Dylan tensed up beside me and I swear I couldn’t believe what I heard. First, I’m not “hot” compared to Paula and the others on the bus, and the second which is frankly nerve-wracking, he called me hot.

You don’t call a girl “hot”

The bus is hot. Classrooms are hot. Not a fucking person. I clenched my jaws, anger coursing through my veins.

“Speak of the devil. Camilla, truth or dare.”

The same guy asked.

“Truth.”

I answered without thought.

“Are you in love with Dylan?”

He asks narrowing his gaze at me. A smirk played on his lips.

Dylan’s teammates had already begun giggling, most of them thought I’m by far swoon. Anyone on the bus would yell yes without thinking twice.

Fuck them all.

I’m not them.

“No.”

I answered firmly, glaring harshly at him.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“Great news. The bus is ready and we’re good to go.”

A teacher announced in the middle of our intense game.

That’s how it ended.

I laid back in my seat and heaved a large sigh, Dylan still seated inches away, his haggard breathing loud enough for me to hear.

****

The bus came to a halt and we stepped down one after the other. Dylan brushed by me without so much as a word, I hurriedly got down and caught up wondering what had gotten to him.

“Are you still going to play? It’s late”

“Yeah, if they’re still a game to be held.”

He replied without turning back.

Looking ahead, I notice Brandon and his teammates approaching.

Dylan halts and I quickly catch up.

“Emerton. Glad to see you’re up and well and I sincerely hope no more accidents happen on the field.”

What’s this supposed to mean?

My breath hitched and I let out a tiny gasp.

“I’ll be fine.”

Dylan reassures me like he sensed my fear. I nodded quickly.

Just as before, I waited in a corner while he got ready and talked to some of his teammates.

“Hi.”

A voice greeted me, it sounded familiar, when I turned back it was the guy from the bus.

Not the guy that asked the questions but the other one… Nate, I think.

“Nate right?”

I asked with a smile.

“Yeah. I just wanted to say “hi” you know. I haven’t seen you as a cheerleader though, I think I would notice someone as beautiful as you.”

He flatters causing a tiny blush to creep up my cheeks.

“I’m not a cheerleader.”

“You should consider it.”

He teases, I chuckled deeply.

“So, I have to go play now, but I hope we can pick this back up later. I would like to get to know you.”

“Umm…”

I chuckle nervously, reaching for a strand of my hair.

“What’s happening?”

Dylan cleared his throat behind us.

I tilted my head to catch a glimpse of him.

He takes his stance beside me, shooting teachers at Nate.

He’s angry? Again?

“Beat it, Nate.”

He growled.

Nate lifted his shoulders, facing him with a straight face, clearly not phased.

“Can’t I talk to a girl anymore?”

“Not “my girl.”

Dylan retorts almost immediately. My eyes widen.

“It’s fine Nate. I’ll see you later.”

He offers me a smile before leaving. After he’s out of sight, I swerve my body and turn towards Dylan, an annoyed look playing over my features.

“Excuse me, I think I didn’t hear you quite alright. Did you call me “your girl” ”

I bashed, ensuring to quote his exact words.

“Don’t answer that.”

I hold a finger towards his face.

“Firstly it was “she’s mine” I figured it was sweet, I overlooked it, but now it’s “your girl” If you haven’t noticed, you’re being straight up possessive. It’s even worse because we aren’t together Dylan! You do not own me. You don’t get to glare at every guy that tries to speak with me. You don’t.”

I warned, nearly poking him in the chest.

“Good luck with the game.”

With that, I turn in any direction and start away in a rage.

****

*Author’s Note*

*Welp! I slept off the other time. Apologies! Anyway, let’s hear from the audience. What do you think Dylan truly sees Camilla as?*