Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

Silence. The new wall clock Miranda had hung in our room was the only thing keeping this place from mirroring a graveyard.

I lingered for the next phase of this discussion. You know the kind that involves – they already broke up. I badly wanted to tell you. You weren’t in a good place. Those sticks.

I wait. My patience is wearing thin. My knuckles are turning white at the rate I’m squeezing them at. My forehead is forming two to three lines of crease, but I wait.

I don’t speak first. No-that would show weakness and I am not weak. I’ve not been weak in eight months.

Yet my best friend stands at her corner of the room, headshot down, so I can’t get a good look at how she’s coping, but I refuse to feel an ounce of guilt for her. I won’t allow it.

“I’m sorry.”

She blurts, and I explode.

Those words are part of my suggestions and it tips me off the mental cliff I’ve been hanging on to.

“You’re sorry!?”

I yell, then scoff.

I’m off the bed and marching towards her.

She realised and whips her head off, meeting my gaze and her expression cuts me off.

I would not hit my best friend, maybe take and yell, but I’ll never dream of getting physical. Yet Miranda is sniffling with tears strolling down each eye and that’s enough to dissolve the anger I’m feeling.

“Fuck.”

Before I can think, I’m tugging her into my arms.

I haven’t seen her cry since Paula and that prickles me hard.

I don’t want to cause her crying, I never want her to shed tears.

It makes me recall the number of times she must have cried every day, or how badly her life must’ve been.

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

She chokes. On more tears.

I pull away and sigh. She’s taller. I’m 5’4 give or take, which is like average height.

“I know there’s a girl code on it and I flopped. I’m sorry. It wants even because of what you were going through. I was just scared. I didn’t know how to walk up to you and explain that I like your ex. Ugh!”

She plopped on the bed, then bury her face in her palms.

I’m more curious than mad now. I can’t a hundred per cent blame her, though. I’m not that great of a friend if I didn’t pick out the fact that she’s been in a relationship this entire time, so I take a seat next to her and sigh.

“So tell me, how did you and Kyle Evans hook up?”

She’s concealing a blush. How serious is this?

I missed a lot.

“After the kiss that night and all that happened, I went home and scolded myself for not being able to stop thinking about him because I realised who he was after everyone tweeted about it in the group chat. I thought it’ll be one of those kisses and runoff, but then I ran into him. Not once. Not twice. I kept running into him. It was like the universe wanted us joined or something.”

She pauses and exhales, passing me a knowing look.

“I don’t mind talking about my ex with you.”

I assure with a slight chuckle. It’s been over a year since Kyle and I broke up, and why it’s a sly move to go out with him without telling me? It’s in the past and I can’t change it. Throwing tantrums won’t change things. I learnt that quickly.

It’s best to find my foot and move on.

“So when he invited me to dinner, I just couldn’t say no. I thought it’s just one date and nothing will go wrong…”

She sighs.

“Then you couldn’t resist his charming smile.”

I chuckle. Miranda blushes hard, then bobs her head.

“From one date. It went to four and then we started hooking up. This was like months after what happened, I swear. I tried to resist him, I just couldn’t. When he asked me out, I did say I’ll tell you about it before saying yes, then you ran into him and your mood was ruined that day. I just couldn’t.”

I ball my fists without my knowledge, reminiscing about that day.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

In the past eight months, Dylan and I have only crossed paths a handful of times and after graduation, I saw him once. The keyword being I saw him. He didn’t notice me. I don’t know which annoys me more, the position in which I saw him or the fact that he was too engrossed to notice.

**MONTH EARLIER.**

“Yes mother, I’ll get the grocery and I’ll be right back.”

I hang up before any more orders came come from my mother’s mouth.

“Good afternoon.”

The male cashier greets me while not so subtly checking me out. I’m wearing a tight gown with a low cut, so I can’t really blame him, only I’m not in the mood for guys, so I flip him off and place the items over the counter.

He’s packaging them, getting ready to give me my bill. I take the time to look around, checking to see if I missed anything.

Then I catch his gaze. My breath hitched. I can only get a side view from my angle, but I recognize him. Anyday. Anytime.

“Ma’am?”

The cashier’s calling. My bill must be ready, but I’ll be dammed if anything else could take my attention off him. He’s wearing the signature Dylan look. White shirt. Black pants. I don’t see his face clearly. I’m not sure I wanted to.

I narrow my gaze as another figure comes into view.

My breathing gets cut off again. It’s a girl. Of course, he moved on so quickly.

I almost scoff. Almost.

“Ma’am.”

The cashier is jerking my arm and I’m forced to turn away.

“Sorry.”

I mumble and dig into my bag for my card. He’s checking it, and I turn around to see the car gone. Along with Dylan.

**PRESENT TIME.**

“Yeah.”

I mumble.

“See? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You’re not. I just don’t enjoy talking about him. He’s a part of my past. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I understand.”

She breathed.

“So about me and Kyle? Do you approve?”

She’s playing with her nails again.

“Do you like him?”

I zone in on her facial expressions. Her eyes grow wide. Her dilated pupils. She doesn’t just like him. She might actually be in love with him.

“Don’t answer that. It’s glaring.”

“Yes. I approve as long as he makes you happy.”

I’m tempted to bring up the cheating, but I don’t. People change, right?

*Not really.* But I’d like to think Kyle will do right by my best friend.

“So, how does this work? Long-distance and all?”

“Actually, Kyle is planning on transferring here next year.”

“And somehow I wouldn’t have found out?”

I tease, nudging her elbow.

She’s still a little uneasy, but her shoulders are less tense than before.

“I really am sorry for lying to you rather – withholding information.”

There’s a smirk brewing at the corner of her mouth. I’ll regret something soon.

“Now that we have registered, I’m not up for dates. We can go back to the actual reason I brought this conversation up. You turning down Jimmy.”

She’s grinning again.

“Ugh. No. Can we move this to another day? I filled today up with you and Kyle.”

“Hell no. I know what you’re trying to do. The psychology won’t work on me.”

I feign a gasp

“I so wasn’t.”

She arches a brow, then hisses lowly.

“Right…”

“Anyway.”

She’s hopping off the bed and dashing towards mine.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

I growl. Before I can comprehend, she’s grabbing my cell and courtesy of knowing my password, Miranda can unlock my cell phone.

“You better not be.”

She’s far off, but I can see her in my inbox. Specifically Jimmy’s chat and I.

“Please.”

I pout, but it’s too late. Miranda has typed and sent a reply.

“When and where?”

That’s not all. She added a wink face emoji to the text.

Alright. Murder me now. My phone beeps faster than it ever has.

“Great. You have a date tomorrow night at some restaurant. It sounds super fancy.”

I release the loudest groan ever, then bury my face in my palms. My best friend will be the death of me.

Fucking hell.

******

*Author’s Note*

*Courtesy of an emergency family outing, I wasn’t able to have access to my phone. Apologies. I’m still out hence this short chapter. I’ll try to make it up to you, but please drop your thoughts in the comment section.*