Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

SATURDAY MORNING.

There goes an evening without me looking like a deranged person.

Why can’t things just go my way for a change? With the terrible night, I’ll just rush upstairs and maybe fall in bed, letting sleep take away all my problem and they are a lot.

At this point, I’m faced with two alternatives. Two choices. Two options. Just one and two. There’s no third party. Both of them are catastrophic depending on their reactions, they were actions and by rule they had equal and opposite reactions.

The first and the dredged one was to Point blank tell him the truth if I did.

The simple truth to his question, a mono syllabic word, it’s simple to pronounce.

It’ll take less than three seconds to mouth, but that’s not the problem.

Speaking the truth isn’t the issue at this point, it’s living and managing what comes next.

Follow up questions. Doubting gazes. Suspicious looks. The human need for an explanation.

All of which I’m not ready to tell, face, or admit.

The first option is not an option. It’s a death warrant I’ll be signing.

The second however would just be a continuation of the things I’ve already been engaging in.

Telling lies. Or as I would like to call them merely deflecting.

I don’t miss the doubting Thomas that springs inside of him, the suspicious gazes, how his brows drops almost immediately each and every time I deflect his questions.

He asks. I chuckle and laugh it over. Walk over or more like run inside and shut him out.

It hurts when it’s done to me so I can imagine how he feels.

That’s not great. It’s somehow silly, but those are my only options.

I have no other choice.

Or is there?

As the cold air brushed against my face, a bright idea popped inside my head. I cringed my nose, wiggling it slightly due to the breeze, the idea might work.

The third choice. A combination of the first and second. Tell the truth, but add a bit of a lie and then the usual chuckling to cover it up.

I exhaled sharply then parted my lips to answer after more than three minutes were exhausted in silence.

“Definitely we’ve kissed before.”

I started keeping a straight face. His however fell except his eyes which widened completely. I assume that’s as a result of shock.

Oh Dylan.

I parted my lips and let the rest blurt out by themselves.

“I mean did the last two hours of the party escape your head?”

I cocked my head, pressing my lips tightly. What followed was a deep chuckle which later turned into a laugh.

A laugh turned into laughter. Clutching my tummy and throwing my head back kind of laughter.

My stomach turned at my words, but I laughed nontheless. It’s the only thing I could do at this point.

My plan worked.

After the second line, he straightened his features and kept his eyesight normal.

His brown eyes did scrutinize me one final time, but with my cheeky grin anyone would think I was in a playful mood.

“Yeah. I must have been a little tipsy. I thought I remembered something.”

I gulped letting my demeanor falter for a split second, then replaced it with another wide grin. His hands went into his hair, raking deeply through the center then back again.

He’s battling internally with what his mind tells him and what his heart says.

“We should go inside. I’m tired.”

I faked a yawn eager to get into the comforts of my own room even though Dylan suspicions will have me up for a while. Although he seemed convinced as he asked no further questions. We walked through the door and I think that was it.

****

I reached my room, slid through the door and closed the door. A hand over my chest, releasing a deep breath, heading continuously shaking while reliving what’s been happening these pasts few days.

More specifically, what happened tonight at the party.

Brandon.

I repeated the same thing over and over more to myself. Brandon is away. He can’t do anything. His threats were baseless. I’ll be fine. I have to turn out fine.

Sliding at the base of the door, I scoffed and gasped together, squeezing my eyes and mumbling what I figured to turn out as a prayer. A prayer to the Almighty.

For a sense of a normal in my life. I just want a normal day. A normal day. That’s all.

I bowed my head and even in that uncomfortable spot, I let myself rest. Heaven knows how badly it was craved.

****

SATURDAY.

My eyes fluttered open after series of rays from the sun kept hitting my skin.

I slept by the door causing my shoulders and back to ache. Groans and grunts escaped from my lips while standing up. Headache. Hangover. Stupid one. What was I thinking with a bottle? Ugh.

Luckily I had a few painkillers in the room to help and ease things.

Hopefully they work quickly. I worked on my temples, rubbing the sides before they did.

Moments later, I was able to stand without feeling the need to throw up.

Then I sighted the text books over the table, the ones I’d use to tutor Dylan.

Ugh. Maybe later today. Things are still a little bit awkward after last night.

Last night.

Unconsciously, I grazed the tip of my nail over my lips.

I squeezed my eyes hard recalling the fierce kiss. The one that had my insides goo-ing. Yeah that one.

Smiling to myself, I was about to carryout the weekend chores then a knock came through halting that upcoming activity.

I cringed at the thought of Dylan at the door. Then again he never knocks.

Dylan’s parents?

Oh shit. Parents.

Mine. I forgot about them. Fuck.

I lowered my head at my outfit

Dad will kill me.

Hurridely, I stepped out of them, tossing it quickly inside the laundry basket.

I retrieved a simple gown from the closet, throwing it over my head then placing the straps at my hand.

Shit. My breath still smells like alcohol.

I was about to rush inside the bathroom to brush when a second knock came.

“Camilla ..”

Mother called out softly.

Fuck. I am screwed.

I tugged at my hair and moved to the door, twisting the knob and stepping away.

God help me.

“Morning mom and dad.”

I greeted awaiting their response.

Father as always eyed my entire body, covering every inch of me.

I dabbled slightly nervous. I’m dead if I get caught.

I stood in front of the basket so the cloth couldn’t be seen.

They glanced at me for a while before answering.

“We’re sorry we couldn’t spend time with you yesterday, I know that’s one of the main reason why we’re back, we’ll make it up to you before we plan any trip or leave again.”

Wow. Saturday morning started with an apology.

That’s not anticipated.

Much less from my father.

I get away with the party, my father is remorseful and they’ll finally pay attention to me.

A grin spread across my cheeks as those triple threat actions.

“Does that mean that both of you were out and had to come in late last night?”

I asked for clarification. Dylan and I might have gotten in before then. It was just after midnight if I remember correctly. The alcohol and boose made most things blurry. Except Brandon. Dylan’s question. Not to forget the epic kiss.

“Yeah. Is there a problem?”

Mother furrowed her brows speaking up.

“Nope. Not at all. Just curious.”

I quipped sounding like a bird

I do that whenever I’m scared and nervous.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Oh Camilla.

Again, they gave me weird looks but I couldn’t be happier.

“I’ll go freshen up dad.”

They half-smiled for some reason then walked away.

I danced around a little, I didn’t want a talk from my dad or my mom and now I’m home free.

I got ready almost immediately and rushed downstairs for breakfast.

Saturdays are always meant for pancakes right?

Yes they are. Yes they are.

“You seem very happy on a Saturday morning.”

I stopped dead.

He’s behind me isn’t he?

Yes he is.

I spinned around hoping to keep up an angry look or at least a straight face, but my jaw was left over the floor.

He’s breath taking and I think he knows just that.

He didn’t seem to sleep well as I. His hair was sticking all over the place, he changed his clothes to something more comfy and baggy. Baggy clothes should make you similar to a potatoe or something, but Dylan Emerton is looking like a snack.

Yes I just said it.

“You’re ogling again. Tutors shouldn’t ogle at their students.”

I pressed my lips and forced my head to the side.

He chuckled and moved away.

“I will freshen up then breakfast then tutoring. I’m looking forward to it.”

I swallowed hard. The last part was mouthed deeply. Extra stress while talking. I don’t like the sound of that.

He shut the door leaving me alone inside and gazing at the wooden structure, rooted and grounded to one spot. All because of him.

****

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