Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

EIGHT MONTHS LATER.

-CAL-U

TUESDAY.

California University, or as most people like to call it, Cal-U. One of the finest institutions in the entire country, competitive as well, but getting into not that difficult with my final year grades. I had nothing distracting me as well, enough time to study. I could’ve gotten into Harvard if I wanted, but Cal-U is hours away from home. The skies aren’t that cloudy. Winter isn’t freezing and Miranda’s here. It’s perfect.

Another reason may just be because a certain someone had no interest in Cal-U, so our paths may never cross again.

I’m holding a box of clothes staring at accommodation 205, my room. A lot changed in eight months. I cut my hair, reduced it to shoulder length. I almost dyed it dark if it wasn’t for dad’s lecture. I became distant. When it was time to leave, I packed my stuff in boxes and left without thinking twice.

“Camilla!”

Miranda squealed behind me, her enormous arms going around me, squishing me between herself.NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

I mumbled a few curse words at the back of my head, wondering if I made the wrong choice by matching our roommate’s profiles together.

We get a double room in the first year, an assurance and all that. You get to choose a roommate as well if you’re aware of her profile. Miranda and I lived together at Kingston High, but after Paula, she changed a lot. She’s more “dramatic”, a lot more dramatic. It’s her major, so I’m learning to adapt to this alternative lifestyle.

I cringe at my thought. Paula. I forgot about her. At least I convinced myself that I did.

“No! No! No!”

Miranda yelled, pulling away. She’s being a drama queen. Again. Ugh.

“You will not sulk for your first year. I will not allow it.”

She insisted, placing her hands over her hips. I ran a few fingers through my hair.

“Miranda…”

I growled.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t Miranda me..”

She joked, slapping my wrist.

“Can we just move in already?”

“No. We are not taking a step into our apartment until we agree here and you have to promise me.”

*I’m going to regret the next few sentences.*

“Sure.”

I gritted my teeth.

“Promise me you will stop sulking over you know who. You will try to move on from high school. Come on, shitty things happen and I know it hurts. You shut me out. You didn’t let me try to do anything and I’m certain you shut the entire world out too, but I guess it’s fine because people have their way of dealing with pain, but this is college. One day you’re going to look back and realise that you missed out on a lot simply because of one bad experience, so you have to promise me you won’t sulk anymore. We’re agreeing to have the best first year. Come on.”

She shoved her pinky forward, gasping loudly. I chortle, ducking my head to glance at her.

“We aren’t five anymore Miranda, there’s no way we are pinky swearing.”

I giggle again, smiling widely.

“Yes, we are. There are no age limits to the pinky swear. It’s one of the most powerful ways to seal a promise, so we pinky swear.”

She shoved her hand forward once more.

“Fine.”

I rolled my eyes, stretching my hand as well, crossing our pinkies against each other.

“This is completely ridiculous.”

I chuckled again, looking around the hallway. Hopefully, no one is watching us act like five-year-olds.

“Shut up Camilla!”

I couldn’t hold it anymore. I burst into laughter, clutching my tummy harshly.

“I haven’t seen you laugh that hard in a while.”

She commented. I brushed my hair away, chuckling lowly. She isn’t wrong. I don’t recall smiling or laughing much after the Incident. It’s been nearly a year.

“Now we move in!”

Miranda exclaimed once more. I’m sure Residence hall B has a policy against noisy halls, but my best friend couldn’t care less.

I’m glad we are together. Without Miranda, I have no clue what I’ll do. I shoved the key into the keyhole, turned the doorknob and strolled in.

This is my home now. For the next eight months.

****

RESIDENCE HALL B

They fully equipped our room with two standard beds on each end of the room, it has Wi-Fi, there’s laundry on our floor, a common kitchen as well, and a common room for “making friends” it isn’t so bad.

It took nearly the entire day to move our clothes and other stuff into the room. Then we took turns showering and finally lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

The next day is orientation, another “fun” activity. I’m thinking of skipping the bogus event, but knowing Miranda she’ll tug my ass down to the centre.

Ugh. I’m dredging the entire thing already.

Then again, Miranda and I might drift off since we are different faculties. I’ll sneak off then. Perfect.

“Aren’t you are calling your parents?”

She chirped, turning over to face me.

“I sent them a text.”

I murmured, shutting my eyes. It’s almost three pm if I’m not mistaken. I’m exhausted.

“Alright.”

She whispered and turned again.

“Camilla…”

“Mmmm..”

“We are going to have fun, right? This is college.”

“I know…”

I answer, yawning and slowly drifting away.

“Good. I’m going to make sure of it.”

That was the last thing I heard before shutting off completely.

****

8:54 PM.

I stood up properly over the bed, spying Miranda in the corner, still sleeping. Her closet is still a mess, but mine is as neat as a pin.

Trying not to make a sound, I grabbed my towel and the change of clothes creeping into the shower.

The hair dripped from my head with my towel tied loosely over my chest. I pulled out my shirt and sweatpants, then ran the towel over my hair before exiting the room.

Tucking my palms in my pocket, I strolled outside and took in the entire school.

I should’ve brought a jacket as well. It’s fricking cold out here.

Just then, my phone beeped, and I had to dig into my sweat pants to retrieve it. Miranda. No one would text or call.

“Where are you!!!”

Three exclamation marks. I huffed.

“Took. A walk.”

I clicked send and tucked it away, sighting the common area. There are people there.

Our hall is not gender-based, so there are guys. Maybe go back to my dorm. I’m not in the mood for making friends. Taking a simple U-turn, I strolled towards the elevator.

Once inside, I punched the button that’ll take me to my floor and relaxed against the wall.

Instead of moving up, someone halted the closing doors. Male.

I could tell by his hands.

Gulping down my throat, I thought, what if-

What if?

No. I shrugged it off my mind. The doors opened to accommodate him and I lifted my head to see.

I wasn’t wrong. I’m hardly ever wrong after that night, mostly because I over analyse and overthink. It’s him.

“Jimmy.”

I whispered. His head snapped to mine, blue eyes glistening with recognition.

I released a breath, then chuckled.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

He answers back. He remembers me. Just like that, all the air is sucked away.

******