Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

FRAT HOUSE.

FRIDAY EVENING.

“So the ski topples over me and I dug straight into the fricking cold snow and my friends are mostly taking videos and laughing their heads off. None of them helps me and that’s why I never go skiing again.”

Jimmy finishes his story, and I threw my head back, still reeling with laughter. Staying with him has been so much fun. He’s himself. At least, I think he is. He’s not bad in the eye as well. Curly brown hair. Pink, kissable lips that most girls would be drool over. Tanned skin. Muscles underneath that brown shirt he’s wearing. He’s also tall, which is the first thing girls look out for.

He doesn’t mind telling me how much he hates skiing because of that impression. His hand is also slung over my shoulder. I don’t think I mind that little contact.

Maybe it’s the alcohol flowing through my veins, reaching my brain and making me less uptight, or just maybe I actually want this.

*Or you’re looking for ways to annoy Dylan.*

My subconscious chirps in. I flip her off because I don’t care what inner me thinks.

Miranda has been a no show. I’m getting worried about her. I’ve been talking to Jimmy for almost an hour.

We’ve exchanged little details. He doesn’t even go to Kingston High. He’s a Richmond student, which had me a little phased with the experience I had, but that’s quick to wear off. Jimmy’s aura is comforting.

“I’m enjoying this conversation. I am.”

“But…”

He teases, taking a little sip from his drink. I chuckle lightly.

“I came here with someone.”

His face drops immediately.

“Not a guy. My best friend. A girl.”

I correct sweetly.

“That’s better.”

He comments. I don’t react to what that comment would me. It’s way too early to think of shit like that.

“She went off and hasn’t returned. I’m getting worried, so as much as I hate to break this conversation up, I have to.”

“I can come with you then.”

He surprises me by saying.

“Unless you’re not enjoying my company, as you say, and this is just a way of getting me off your back.”

He chuckles.

“No, of course not. You can come. I’d love for you two to meet.”

I grin, then hop off the stool. He does the same while I search for my cell phone to call Miranda.

Truth is, I shoved that object away in fear of Dylan calling or texting me. Luckily, there isn’t another notification from him after the last two I got. I brush the feeling of disappointment that follows that realisation and dial Miranda’s number instead.

I’ve been a terrible friend. What If Paula tried something?

“Hey.”

She giggles, a little too cheerily.

“Where are you?”

I ask, returning to the living room, and students are still dancing. It’s been over an hour aren’t they having leg cramps or something?

Jimmy’s watching everyone carefully, trailing behind me with his hands dug into his pocket. I can’t deny how overly sexy he seems.

“Oh, I’m upstairs, I came back, and you seemed engrossed in that guy…”

She giggles. Definitely drunk.

Ugh. I thought I was a bad friend.

“I’m coming to meet you. Do nothing stupid.”

I warn then hang up.

“Upstairs.”

I mumble, ducking my head to face Jimmy. His mind is elsewhere and our heads nearly collide. I’m quick to move mine away, turning red while mumbling an apology.

“Um, she’s upstairs.”

I repeat, flushing immensely.

“Okay then.”

He ticks, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip. I chortle, then take the lead upstairs praying that Miranda hasn’t fallen for some horny soccer player.

****

“Miranda.”

I yelp, sighting her close to a pool table.

Downstairs was just an open space where people could dance and then the kitchen for a beer, in here for something else. Another party entirely. Pool table. A normal table filled with drinks and cups, then an open space.

“Camilla.”

She slurred, draping her hand over her shoulder.

I cringe at her state wondering why I let her wander off.

“Did you at least find Kelly?”

“Yup.”

She popped the “p” a little too loudly, then turned and shoved a finger forward.

“She’s right over there, playing dare or dare with some dumb students. That’s right! We should play!”

Miranda squeaks, gnawing on my arm and shoving me forward.

Jimmy chuckles behind me, trailing both of us.

I hate drunk Miranda. She’s the worse so far. Fuck.

The alcohol must leave my system because my eyes are clear as day. Maybe I should fix it.

I grab a cup and fill it with the contents of a bottle that’s lying around. I have half the mind to check the label for what it is, but the other half wants to be as free as Miranda.

“Dare or dare.”

Kelly grins, referring to a random dude on who the bottle had mysteriously landed.

My fellow students realised that truth is boring because well you could easily lie; they erased it and came up with dare or dare. I think it’s trash, but you’re not hearing anything from my mouth.

Typically, you’re given a dare. If you try to chicken out, then you’ll become a laughing stock for the entire school. One time they dared this girl to suck on a guy’s dick, she couldn’t Obviously, ran out the door and never looked back.

For over a month, she got nasty messages and snickers about how big her mouth is yet couldn’t swallow a dick.

I cringe hard.

High school girls are remarkably mean, I don’t want to be that girl because I’m sure as hell not doing stupid things like giving a fricking BJ in public, but my best friend has my arm draped over hers and is very drunk which means not taking no for an answer.

I swerve my head at the sound of applause, including Miranda. She l dared this guy to lap dance with a girl. His shirt is off, leaving his muscles bare. The pants are still on, but there’s a dent at the centre. He’s hard just by dancing. The girl doesn’t seem to mind either. Everyone enjoying this.

“Do you want to play?”

My skin tickles at the sound of Jimmy’s voice right below my ear lobes.

“Um, I can’t leave her here. She’ll murder me when she gets sober.”

He smiles softly.

“But it’s fine. I don’t want to ruin the party…”

“I asked because I want to play.”

He smirks. The first of the night. He’s moved from cute to hot in a split second. My mind immediately compares his smirk to Dylan’

I shake the hard thought of my mind and smile back.

“Alright then. I guess we are playing.”

Jimmy moves beside me and I’m stuck between him and Miranda, who is still clinging to me while watching the bottle spin eagerly.

It stops. Everyone cheers too loudly. It’s a girl this time.

“Cat, I dare you to do a split on the pool table.”Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

There’s a grin on Kelly’s face as she gives Cat her dare, which isn’t so bad.

A split is easy for someone as flexible as me.

The girl scowls deeply, then steps forward. Maybe that’s why Kelly handed over the dare. She knows Cat might be terrible at splitting.

Cat gently gets on the table, shoving one leg forward and the other backwards, her ass cheeks now propped up a little, the guys are ducking their heads to a clearer view as her core reaches the pool table, both legs split in different directions.

Cat takes a deep breath, and everyone is clapping. See, that wasn’t so bad at all.

The bottle is spinning again. My anxiety builds up every time. What if it lands on me?

It slows down dangerously close to us three; I wince at the thought. Oh no.

Fuck no. Please.

Then it stops. Miranda

I cannot help but exhale.

“Miranda.”

Kelly’s eyes twitch with mischief. Maybe she’ll go easy on her, being friends and all.

“I dare you to go downstairs, find any guy of your choice, and stick your tongue down his throat. That’s code for kiss him.”

Kelly smirks.

I have a major cringe show. Miranda let go of my arm, smirking back at being brought with a challenge.

Nearly everyone storms out of the room, trailing behind my best friend, who is about to kiss some guy. Right. That’s not awkward. I’d chicken out if it were me.

She’s at the base of the stair, strutting into the living room where mostly everyone is shaking their ass and getting dead drunk.

I consider stopping it. Sober Miranda will not consider this, but she’s already far gone

I catch her tug at a guy’s shirt; he turns over, wide eyes and before he can say anything, Miranda’s parted lips are crushed over his.

Everyone hoots for her, and I zone in.

Holy fuck. That’s not just any guy. It’s Kyle. Miranda is kissing Kyle. She pulls over, licking her bottom lip with no knowledge of who he is.

I don’t think she knows.

I turn away before he could spot me, rushing up the stairs.

I’m not mad. I broke Kyle and I. I certainly don’t have feelings for him, but Miranda is my best friend and she just made out with him.

God, it’ll be awkward when I tell her in the morning.

My temples are swelling, I might be hungover, and what was I drinking upstairs? I cross-check the time. Almost eleven pm. I should get going.

I’ll call a cab for Miranda and me.

Spinning back quickly, I bump into Jimmy, who’s walking toward me.

“I’m sorry ”

We both say, then burst into laughter.

“You just ran off like that. I thought something happened.”

“No. It’s just…”

I stop myself from telling him Kyle is my ex. I might never see Jimmy again, so what does it matter?

“I felt the urge to throw up at my best friend’s slopping kissing.”

I say instead.

“I take it you’re just about leaving?”

How did he figure?

“Yes. I think it’s best I go before something crazy happens tonight.”

“Well then, Camilla, I had a splendid evening. You’re one of a kind.”

I chuckle, tucking my hair away at his compliment.

“Would it be such a cliche move if I were to ask for your…?”

He’s cut off by the sound of an object crashing nearby.

Our heads bob in the sound’s direction. What if someone’s trying to steal something?

“I’ll go check it out.”

Jimmy says, once again reading my thoughts.

He strides quickly to the origin, peaks his head inside one room while I play with my dress. His face curves in a wicked smile and he pulls away, returning to me.

“What was it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, just a guy and a girl getting off.”

He chuckles, sliding multiple fingers in his hair. I cringe. The third one. That’s so disgusting.

“Anyway…”

He starts, but my phone’s beeping with a text from Dylan. My heart skips one beat.

“Too much fun.”

It reads. I furrow my brows, completely confused. Did he drunk text me?

I re-read it multiple times but still can’t deduce meaning.

Closing my screen, I put it away and decide Dylan isn’t worth the effort. He’s trying to mess with me.

“Text from no one. What were you saying?”

I smiled.

“I was going to ask for your number…”

He trails off with a grin. Jimmy’s good. He’s been nothing but fun all night.

I’m about to dig into my contact and call out my number when we hear another object crash. My heart skips another beat and I’m rushing to the sound of the noise.

I have no clue why. As Jimmy said, it’s just two drunk and horny teenagers.

I reach the door, my fingers wrapping around the knob. It creaks but opens up slowly and I peek inside.

I sucked all the air out of my lungs. Literally. I gasp out of breath and that gets his attention.

His eyes scrutinize my body in the fairly lit room, then they widen with realisation.

“Fuck.”

A groan slips out of his mouth, but I shut the door and run off before he can react.

“Camilla.”

Jimmy calls softly. He’s probably noticing how quickly my eyes are watering up. I’m fucking stupid. What the hell was I thinking?

Fuck!

I mutter all the curses in my head strolling back to Jimmy. That’s when I hear him.

“Camilla!”

Dylan yells in the hall.

My feet are stuck to the ground at the sound of his voice. I release a sharp breath and another pair of hands are around me. It’s Jimmy.

“You let go of her.”

Dylan grows behind me.

“What’s going on here?”

Miranda adds, she’s behind Jimmy.

“Let’s go.”

I croak.

“Camilla…”

“Don’t you fucking talk to me. It’s rude to leave a girl when she hasn’t come yet and I’m sure Paula was right at the edge of that. You should go finish.”

There’s this edge in my voice. One I haven’t heard before. I think it’s rage, and it’s scary.

I can’t see his face. I’m not sure I want to. I don’t miss the gasp from Miranda, though.

“Thank you.”

I mutter to Jimmy, my lips quivering as I run a finger over his clothed chest.

Slipping between both boys, I reach Miranda, who pulls my arm immediately. She’s still drunk, but even at that, my emotions are bare for anyone to see.

“Can we go?”

I bite down on my lower lip, blinking back every tear that’s going to spill. She nods quickly.

It takes everything in me not to incline my head and look at him. His eyes probably. I would’ve loved to see the look in them. But I don’t.

I keep walking down the stairs with Miranda. He does not follow. I’m grateful. Miranda’s calling a cab, I think. We’re squeezing through teenagers and leaving the party, and once I’m out the door into the cold night, the realisation hits me smoothly.

Dylan was screwing Paula. I saw them with my fucking eyes. The tears are flowing freely; I don’t stop them. I’m not sure I can.

*****

*Author’s Note.*

*Well that was anticlimactic. Very much. Let’s see what happens next!*