Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

RICHMOND HIGH.

Out of spite, I didn’t return to the field. The path led me into the school either way, so I trailed my fingers over the lockers and gave myself a tour.

High schools are designed similarly, so there wasn’t much to see. Classrooms with tags above so you don’t get lost, teacher’s office, the cafeteria, bathrooms. Just the paintings and sizes are much different.

I paused at their garden, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The sweet scent of flowers filled my nostrils, theirs was a little bigger and more developed I’d have to admit.

Finding a spot to seat, I pushed my legs inside so I could rest my head on my lap. The band holding my hair fell loose and it sprawled over my face.

Further thoughts of Dylan swarmed my head. I scolded myself relentlessly, sniffing harshly in the mildly cold weather.

He probably wants my body. Maybe that’s it. It has to be it.

At the brink of letting my emotions rip off, I heard incoming footsteps.

Springing up, I secured my hair in a ponytail and stayed behind the door, looking to listen to whoever was coming.

Maybe I’ll get caught for trespassing. Maybe I’m not supposed to stay in here.

“For a second there, I thought those Kingston’s guys had a shot. I guess their quarterback’s injury has stopped him from playing properly. It’s good for us though. I’m so excited to win!”

I heard one girl’s voice followed by her giggles then another one that sounded a little similar.

I balled my fists, pulling the doorknob and jumping outside.

They jumped as well, clearly startled by my appearance. Richmond girls. Skimpy dresses. More like clinging to their skin. Mean looks or maybe it’s the eyeliner. Way too much make-up. What else? How does their school even allow this kind of dressing?

Glaring at both of them, I crossed my arms and fired back.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I inquired, churning the side of my lip.

“The biggest gossip of course. If you’re in here that means you missed the game. Well, we can’t call that an actual game if the opposing team let us win.”

The second paused and laughed harder.

My anger was getting harder to keep a lid on now.

“Well then, we’ll see what happens on Friday. It’ll be fun winning that trophy.”

One more giggle then they turned around and strut away, adding too much sway to their hips.

I shook my head in disbelief. Total weirdos

A gasp slipped from my parted lips realising the gravity of those words.

We lost. Even with Dylan playing, we lost.

Was it because of me?

*No*

My subconscious countered quickly.

*I’m not that important.*

Shit. Why did he have to play? I told him he wasn’t ready.

Dylan! How is he? What fucking happened.

Hurriedly, I dashed towards the yard.

The cheerleaders from our school had their pom-poms down, their faces seemed dejected, those girls weren’t lying. We lost.

I switched gazes searching for the players.

The cheers around had me disoriented already. I could slightly see a bunch of guys headed into the locker room.

That must be them.

I trailed behind them, squeezing through cheering girls and sweaty players.

I got shoved inside and the sight I beheld made me nauseous. I had to blink back twice just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating from being squeezed too hard. I was not. If the cheering outside was high, this was booming. The actual fuck.

“Dylan! Stop it!”

I cried, my voice blaring at the back of my ears. Everyone paused and faced me. Have they all gone mad to watch him beat up a guy?

Dylan halted his curled fist which was at the brink of hitting the other guy’s face.

The other hand was used to firmly grip that player’s shirt and slowly he turned his head towards me, meeting my gaze.

I breathed harshly, his gaze piercing into my skin.

Then, he turned away swiftly and punched him.

“Dylan!”

I screamed, rushing towards both of them as though I had the power to do anything.

Regardless, I shoved him away as hard as I could. He barely flinched but switched his gaze one more time.

“Stop it!”

I yelled, lowering my voice slightly, tears brimming at the brink of my eyes.

His face was hardened, for some reason his eyes were red, he had taken off the head warmer, the bandage on his head was visible, I’m sure those stitches would rip off anytime soon. He’s getting himself hurt. All for what?

Dylan kept breathing down on me, glaring harshly, still holding onto him.

“Please.”

I added, lifting my left hand, wrapping it slowly around his.

“Let’s go.”

He commanded, dropping the other guy who fell loosely on the floor.

Still glaring, he stormed out of the room.

I glanced at the Richmond High player on the floor, nose bleeding badly, he’ll need to get that check upon.

I switched to the door, watching Dylan strut away and speedily rushing after him.

“I told you if you weren’t hundred per cent, you could seat this one out.”

I yelled, gritting my teeth. He halted. We took the back door so I could we the parking lot from here.

“I know what I did.”

He responded in a gruff tone. The fuck is that supposed to mean?

We lost. He gets into a fight putting himself in more danger and he knows what he did!

“I lost on purpose. It’s better when your enemy thinks you pose no threat. We’ll win tomorrow.”

He added, my eyes widened in shock and some more.

“You lost on purpose so Brandon would think you’re still not fine? That’s why you insisted on playing. That makes a little sense, but I still don’t understand why were you beating that guy up.

“I did it on purpose, doesn’t mean I love losing. He was talking trash.”

“Seriously Dylan? You could’ve seriously hurt him! What then!?”

“I wish he had. I don’t give a fuck about it.”

He stated harshly.

“Have you gone fucking mad!? What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?”

He swerved back, glaring harshly at me.

I recoiled at his gaze, scrunching my nose a little.

He scoffed then parted his lips as though he wanted to say something. He clipped them shut then slumped his shoulders.

“Nothing Camilla. Nothing.”

He whispered. With that, he turned back and walked away.

“Emerton are you crazy?!”Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

I wince at the coach’s harsh tone.

Dylan had stopped in his tracks, I rushed to catch up to both of them, keeping a little distance.

The anger in his face had faded off, he was mostly twisting his lips in confusion, standing straight and waiting for the coach to speak. It’s probably about the fight. Fuck Dylan must be in trouble.

“What’s the wrong coach?”

“What’s wrong is that you acted like a mad man and you injured an opponent. He can’t play tomorrow.”

I gasped, both hands reaching to cover my lips

“Can’t play tomorrow? That’s not possible. I barely threw three punches at him. I only ruffled him up a little. I didn’t cause any serious damage! This is just some stupid tactic. I’ll apologise if that’s what they want.”

Dylan seethed, clenching one hand.

“An apology isn’t going to fix this Dylan.”

“But….”

“He’s incapacitated and can’t play, that’s the story whether it’s true or not. The teammates claim he’s an important striker and if they’re down one, we should be as well. They are demanding you don’t play either. Dylan. We replace you for the game tomorrow.”

“That’s freaking absurd!”

Dylan thundered. I flinched.

He’s right. That’s absurd. Makes zero sense.

“Their request might get granted. It’s up for a vote, there’s a very high chance you don’t play tomorrow and we both know that game is lost if you don’t.”

“Good job Emerton. You outdid yourself this time. You let your anger get the best of you. It cost us the game.”

Coach lowers his head, his tone reeking of disappointment. The news had left me speechless. Maybe even Dylan as well since his lips were clipped tightly.

What the fuck is this?

******

*Author’s Note*

*No excuse this time, I’ve been going through things of my own. Will do my best to drop my chapters today. Please hold. Thank you.*