Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

THURSDAY.

RENÉE MANSION.

This week will go down as one of the fastest in my books. It’s Thursday and I wake up on a really soft bed. Dad must have taken me upstairs. *Just like old times.*

I murmur underneath my breath, brushing my arm against the edge of my jaw.

I toss me over and the wrapping makes squishy sounds, it’s still covered being brand new and all.

Seating straight, I sight my mirror which is directly opposite my bed. That’s moving to the corner. My closet is on the left and a bathroom beside my bed. The mirror has to go. I can’t wake up staring at zombies which is what I look like now.

Numerous bags underneath my eye. My hair tangled and stuck out on each end, my shirt crumbled in addition to the smug look on my face. I look and feel like shit.

There’s no wall clock, so I use my phone instead. It’s still early. Barely six pm.

Ugh.

I consider returning to bed for an hour, but I practically slept through yesterday, so I get up instead and began arranging my room.

****

A few minutes past seven, the room is mirrored against my other room back at Dylan’s. I get into the shower with my clothes spread on the bed. A gown for today.

Tying my hair in a neat bun, I reach for the second drawer stuffed with a few beauty items or is it cosmetic? Who gives a shit. I can’t go to class this way. I touch my brows with a little led, a blush on both cheeks and nude lipsticks for my dry lips.

That should be fine. Great at concealing my depressive and needy state.

Now it’s time for school. Time to see Dylan.

Mom seemed to have adapted to the kitchen. Coffee’s brewing already. Dad’s seated and dressed making small talks with her.

*Just like old times.* I repeat and shrug it off. They’re moving on, maybe I should too.

“Day one wasn’t that bad after all..”

I mumbled, returning my cup of coffee then exiting the house.

****

With Kingston High in sight, I start fiddling with my fingers, my anxiety building up quickly.

Dad halted at my school allowing me to step out.

As though it was planned, Dylan seemed to have just arrived. He was leaning over his cycle and speaking with his friends.

Clinging to my backpack, I marched towards the front gate, inclining my head to make eye contact. The smirk on his face dissolved the moment his eyes crossed mine.

“Huh?”

I scoffed. He’s keeping a straight face… because of me? That’ll make us strangers. And we are not strangers.

My entire body went rigid. Different thoughts scampered through me.

I watched as about four of them talked, Dylan, neglecting my presence a few feet away.

“Maybe I should walk over there and talk to him?”

I considered, breathing out loud.

What that in mind, I took slow strides toward the four of them.

He didn’t notice, maybe he did and didn’t give a flying fuck.

I scoffed a second time and halted.

Not a chance in hell.

I sighted Paula emerge from behind, a smirk crossing his cheeks again as she made her way beside him. Now he’s smirking for her? As though he enjoys her company?

“She’s mine.”

His distant words echo in the back of my head. Not so long ago he muttered those words to Paula. The same girl who gazed as though she could fuck him with her eyes.

I averted my eyes, a stinging sensation overpowering both lids too quickly.

******

Slamming my locker, I jump out of my skin at my own temper.

Dylan’s little stunt has put me in a mood, I’m not so sure why, but it sucks

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

Kyle asks beside me. I hadn’t even noticed him till now. Has he been there for a while?

“It’s nothing.”

I say and try to move away. He’s quick to block my path. Not taking no for an answer then.

“It does not seem like nothing if Camilla Renée is slamming lockers.”

He chortles leaning on one of them.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, but since you to go school here you’re probably aware I got convicted, but I’m acquitted of all charges now. My parents bought a new house so I moved out of the Emerton’s yesterday.”

I revealed in one breath.

“That’s what makes you upset? The acquitting or the moving out.”

He seemed genuinely confused, twitching his lips with both brows arched.

“Not really.”

I sigh and contemplate revealing Dylan’s most recent characters to him, my ex-boyfriend. We’re friends now right? And friends speak to each other about boy troubles. That’s right.

“Dylan’s been acting strange even before I left the house, now that I’m gone it feels as though he cut me off and I don’t want to believe that’s what happened. He…”

“Did he touch you?”

Kyle asks abruptly. I blink my lids then nod slowly.

“Definitely.”

Kyle says leaving me stunned.

“Huh?”

“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings Camilla, but you didn’t honestly think Dylan Emerton was the exclusive guy? Hell, he’s sticking his throat down five girls a week. If he hadn’t touched you, maybe the thrill would exist, but he has and I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you got played.”

“That’s not true.”

I cut in, flaring up. I’ve been telling myself those exact words but hearing it from someone else’s lips. It’s not true. Dylan would not.

“Okay then, what other explanation could you possibly have for him ignoring…?”

Kyle’s gaze is piercing into mine, begging me to prove him wrong. Maybe he’s not. Maybe I’m the wrong one. The delusional one. The one who is in over her head and stuck on a guy who only wanted to make out a few times.

Dylan Emerton does not do it exclusively. I was a fool to think otherwise.

“Camilla…”

“I have to go Kyle.”

I duck underneath his arm and strut away before he even has the chance to utter another word.

******

“I’m ready.”

A text comes from Miranda during recess. My mind is wrapped up in Dylan that I can’t comprehend anything.

During physics class, I failed two questions. That never happens. Ever. Miss Trina was kind enough to let me off because even she’s aware that I never answer wrong.

It’s all this thinking. I’m reliving every moment with Dylan and trying to convince myself I got played. Maybe then I can move the hell on.

“Huh?”

I text back, exiting the female restroom where I may have had a mini breakdown.

“I’m ready to let go of Paula. Stand up for me.”

She replies in seconds. Adrenaline rushes through me.

I get back at Paula for one, I get a distraction as well. Let’s do it.

*Selfish cunt.*

My subconscious cautions. I truly am.

****

The moment the final bell is struck, Paula and I meet by my locker.

I brought the idea of standing up to Paula and but we never really discussed how she’s going to do that.

It has to be in a way that doesn’t affect her mom so we need to be smart with it.

“I want it to be today.”

“Today?”

“Yes. If I get home, I might end up convincing myself not to do it. Paula would be out soon, I’ll confront her today, in a few minutes.”

“But what about your mom? She might get affected.”

I’m stunned by this bravery. Days ago she was shuddering at the mention of Paula, but now she’s willing to face her head-on.

“That’s why we’re going to come up with the perfect plan.”

“In under five minutes?”

I chuckle which sounds weird to my ears even. It comes out dry and mostly forced. What has Dylan done to me?

“I need it to be today Camilla.”

“Alright, let me think…”

As if. My mind is clouded with nothing but Dylan. I release a sharp breath and remind myself how much this means to Miranda, I might have also added that I’ll get a good laugh from Paula’s face.

Yes, I am that selfish.

“Got it.”

I yell seconds later. Just like that, the perfect plan saunters into my head.

“How are Paula’s parents?”

“They’re very nice actually.”

My jaw drops. Why didn’t I consider this sooner?

“That’s perfect then. It means they aren’t aware of their daughter’s deeds.”

“We can use it to our advantage and threaten her.”

I added with a mischievous grin.

“Threaten Paula?”

She scrunches her nose.

“Yeah. We’ll tell her she could either let you live your life the way you want away from her and her clique or her parents find out everything.”

“What if it doesn’t work? What if she doesn’t care?”

“She will. You’ll make her care.”

I say firmly.

Paula’s out of English class, strutting towards us. She notices me first, a knowing smirk crossing her face. She’s winning. She gets Dylan.

Focus Camilla. This is about Miranda. Speaking of which, her gaze crosses over and Paula’s demeanour switches to annoyance.

“I don’t even want to know why you’re with them. Let’s go.”

She nudges her elbow.

“I’m not going with you.”

Miranda’s voice comes up the firm. I had doubts for a second.

“What did you say?”

Paula’s eyes are bulging out of their sockets. Mine as well.

“I’m not going. I don’t recall stuttering.”

A gasp escapes her lips. I stiffen a laugh.

Miranda doesn’t look intimidated in any way.

I watch the drama unfold slowly. Miranda folds her arm and Paula hasn’t said another word. Yet.

“I’ll take it you’re on your period or something. Let’s assume I fully understand your lashing out phase of something. Are you done now? I get it, it felt good while it lasted now, I’ll say this slowly so you’ll grab each word… Let’s… Go…”

She draws out clenching her fists.

“N-O.”

Miranda replies in the same tone. Mockery.

Why isn’t this being filmed? Fuck.

“Ok then. Whenever you’re ready, come to my house but you’ll meet yours and your mother’s things on the front porch.”

I trembled. That’s always been the punch card, her threats.

“That’s okay. We’ll wait out there and I’ll be more than glad to tell your father and your mother the way you spend all your free time bullying me, forcing me to do all your projects. What’s new they’ll be happy to hear so let’s each play our part. He who laughs last isn’t it?.”

Her eyes twinkle slightly in shock. She wasn’t expecting that outburst at all.

“Don’t test me, Miranda.”

She warns grudgingly.

“You know what your parents can do to you so I suggest you don’t make threats that’ll backfire. I don’t want much just stay away from me and my mother. That’s all.”

Paula’s lips are parted but words are unable to form. She just stands there, lips pursed with looks to kill. Kill me and Miranda.

“I’ll see you around. Even though I hope not. Good-Bye.”

Miranda retreats to me. I may be as stunned as Paula. Fuck that felt exhilarating. The look on her face. I need a picture. And Miranda. Who knew she could speak with that?Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

As it turns out, even Miranda had a second skin I didn’t know about.

*Just like Dylan.*

I shake the thought off furiously, I refuse to worry about someone who doesn’t care. Perhaps Kyle is right. I mean even I didn’t know Miranda was bold enough to do such, I get fooled easily. Maybe I did get played. I’ve watched movies like this. Read books such as this.

What makes me special? Completely nothing. Dylan’s a player who had his fun with me. Nothing more.

“Are you okay?”

Miranda chirps, swinging her arm over my shoulder. I swerve my head and take in her demeanour, at least one of us is happy.

“Peachy.”

I retort deciding not to ruin her moment.

******

*Author’s Note.*

*If things go well, I’ll update another chapter in a few hours, if not it’s till tomorrow. Much love from this end. Drop your comments below!*