Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

VAN’S PIZZA PLACE.

SUNDAY.

You’re twenty. Not a sixteen-year-old, put on your big girl pants and handle them.

One. Two. Three. Four.

I sprinkle some water on my face, gawking at my reflection in the compact mirror.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

They’re waiting for me. I snatched a line of tissue and smeared it underneath my brows, fluttering my lids twice. I repeat the action until my face is less flushed and nearly dried up.

Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

I’ve got this.

Straightening my shoulders, I sauntered out of the restroom and returned to the table.

Dylan had taken my spot beside Miranda, and they were talking.

Traitorous bastard. She should be angry. For me.

Jimmy stayed silent on the other end, swiping through his cell phone.

I cleared my throat, rendering my presence known to all three.

“I think we should get going, Miranda. It’s getting late.”

She winced, fastening her shoulder blades before plopping up from the booth.

“I will see you tomorrow, Jimmy. We can discuss how we’ll meet up, then begin, or you can text me later?”

He offers a charming smile. I’m grateful he doesn’t press or try to follow.

One of his hands reaches out, then strokes my free hand resting over the table. I smile back, then pull away completely.

All this while, I avoid minimal contact with the other elephant in the room.

“Dylan. May I have a word? Miranda, I’ll meet you outside.”

His brows shot up. I’m more alarmed than him about how I could get that out without throbbing, but I did.

“Alright.”

He’s up and about, strutting towards the door. I stroll behind him, masking any enigma of annoyance that was brimming inside.

Once we’re out of earshot and the place entirely, I yank his arm and pull him towards the corner.

“This again?”

He chuckles. I sink my nails as far as they can go and he jumps in fright.

“That fucking hurts.”

“Good. I want nothing less.”

I lash out, then tug away.

“Why are you following me!?”

It’s hard to keep my voice calm, but I don’t plan on making it known that he affects me that much. Especially to him.

“I’m not. I came here with friends. You saw me walk in with them, did you not?”

There’s an end to those words. He’s taunting. And hell if it does tip me over the edge.

I huff and cross my arms.

“Right. We bump into each other coincidentally. Why didn’t you seat with your friends then? Why walk up to my table?”

He chortles first before answering.

“Camilla. If you didn’t want me seating with you, you could’ve just said so. Dylan go away. That is easy. Instead, your boyfriend helped you out, and you ran away like a toddler.”

An involuntary gasp slipped out from my lips. I blink twice in disbelief.

Too stunned to speak, I gazed at him in dismay. His words replayed several times in my mind. I wait for him to take it back-He does not.

I’m tempted to call him out. Jimmy isn’t my boyfriend. I didn’t run. Or give him a tight smack across that smug face.

But no. I won’t give him the satisfaction of getting to me.

“Fuck you.”

I seethe instead, flipping him the finger.

“Did I lie though? You’re acting like a child, Camilla. Decide.”

“Decide. Is this a joke?”

I half scoff in between laughs.

“Fine then. I’m settling this once and for all. We should stop casually bumping into each other and accept the fact that we’re different people now. Move on.”

He nods ever so slowly. I try to hint out what he’s thinking, but his face gives nothing off. He tightened his jaw for one, but that could mean anything.

“Understood. I guess that would mean you choose Jimmy?”

He cocks his head, chuckling dimly.

I step back. Again, I want to yell that there was no choice.

I don’t. I keep mute.

“It’s fine. It’s better this way. Now we both know where we stand. You’re already the outside witness in our presentation. We’re meeting once a week only. If that’s not too much of a burden to ask.”

I hide my hands behind my back, balling each of them to halt the shivers coursing through my spine.

“I’ll be there.”

I croaked, barely recognising my voice.

“Good.”

I winced at his tone, squeezing my eyes against its lids.

“I should go now. I wouldn’t want to keep you away from him.”

Again, the venom at the end of that statement didn’t go unnoticed and again, I did not correct him.

Tucking both hands away, he spun and walked towards the parking lot, then disappeared entirely.

I tore my gaze away and walked out, sighting Miranda waiting by the entrance.

“Hey.”

I could barely hold it in.

I sniffled and embraced her, my hands encircling her waist to keep me from falling.

“Uber’s here.”

She whispers, tugging my hand towards the car.

My best friend. What will I do without her?This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

I pay no attention to the driver while I place my head over Miranda’s laps and shut my eyes.

Miranda does me the biggest favour by not uttering a word or asking questions, she seats there and strokes my hair. Gently.

****

“Home.”

A voice whispers straight into my left ear. I groan and shift into position, colliding with another body.

Slowly, I blink my lids twice and read the sign.

“Residence Hall B.”

I scoff and seat up. Not home. Not even close.

We both step out and she hands him the fare.

“Hey.”

I pass a small smile, tucking my hand underneath my shirt, strolling off.

If there’s one thing I need is sleep and quiet.

*****

MONDAY.

There’s an incessant ringing in my ear and it’s not an alarm ergo I didn’t set one.

The noise is typical, and soon I come to understand it’s my cell phone.

Half asleep but full-on annoyed, I peek at the screen and the drowsiness escapes me.

“Mom.”

Fuck.

I seat up straight, pressing the side button so the noise fades out. I said I’ll call, but it’s been almost a week. I forgot.

Shit. If she’s calling now, it’ll be to scold or yell.

Regardless, I click the answer button because she’s my mom.

“Good morning Camilla.”

She’s calm. That’s a good sign.

“Good morning mom.”

I breathe, sticking a hand in my curls.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called since I moved in.”

“It’s fine. I understand the life of a fresher can be difficult, plus you’re having a hard time settling in.”

I smile without answering back. She’s wrong. I don’t have a hard time. I’ve had free time. I just didn’t call back. Calling would bring that to the past. The past I try so desperately to put down.

“How’re your professors? And your courses? I trust you’re doing well.”

“Excellent. How’s dad?”

“On a trip. He should be back today. I’ll tell him you called and asked about his days ago.”

I chuckle lightly.

“Thanks, mom.”

There’s silence for a few seconds. I can hear her breathing fine.

“I spoke to Mrs Emerton a few days ago. She said Dylan got into Cal-U as well.”

Here we go.

“Have you two run into each other?”

She adds, causing my breathing to cease.

I coughed hard and pulled away.

“No mom. I did not know he would start here. I always thought he’d head for New York.”

I try to keep my voice simple and plain. I’m lying to my mother, yes, but the truth will only bring more questions.

It wasn’t a secret that Dylan and I kept away from each other and my mom and dad had questions. Questions I brushed off.

Mom probed severally, every time she got the same robotic answer.

“Nothing.”

“Alright, dear. It’s fine. I just wanted to check on you. I’m sure you’re having early classes. Try giving your old woman a call one of these days. I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.”

I answer back then hang up, falling back to bed.

Therefore Mondays will remain the worse day of the week. Imagine starting off this way?

After yesterday’s theatrics and a good night’s rest, I concluded of new beginnings. If I’m willing to put my past behind me, I have to equally let a future in. That starts with giving Jimmy a chance. He checks all the right boxes.

After nearly three and a half years, I’m ready to date again.

****