Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

FRIDAY NIGHT.

I didn’t even know that shirt still existed, Dylan didn’t strike me as the type of guy who would keep a shirt for over two years.

Unless he bought one like that. Exactly like that.

I remembered how it looked.

Dylan rarely puts on anything else other than a black shirt, but this one had a grey lining from each side down till the hem of the shirt.

Maybe he had more than one of it.

I know it’s just a shirt to him, but this particular one held a lot of emotions and memories for me.

I snapped out of my trance the moment I realised I was staring at him wordlessly. Even if I tried to act like it wasn’t affecting me, I would fall woefully at it.

“Camilla….”

He sounded worried. Why wouldn’t he be? I’m acting like an obsessed lover or a confused student, staring at him like I saw a ghost. I cleared my throat and shook my head a little.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking about something.”

“Clearly….”

He trailed off focusing his gaze on me.

I shook my leg, focusing on the ground instead, unable to look at him.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to go anymore or you’re having second thoughts about us going together.”

“No.”

I rebuked him immediately.

“I do want to go, I badly need a distraction from my daily routine and about us arriving together, it’s not like I had an option, I can’t exactly ask my parents to drive me to the party not to mention they went out with yours.”

I rushed the words out quickly, ending with an exhale.

He smiled.

“Alright then, now that it’s settled, we should get going.”

He seemed elated that we were going to a party.

I guess in some way I was, just not as much as him.

I stepped out of my room, closing the door behind me.

Maybe a short dress was a bad option, this one wasn’t that short, it stopped a little below my knee, but I still shuddered in the cold night which was still young not too late to go back in and change.

Nights like this remind me of our house, this time was movie night. I’ll seat in front of the screen and just watch some random soap opera.

I can’t do that anymore. I burnt it down.

Happy thoughts Camila.

Suddenly, Dylan laced our fingers together as we walked down the stairs.

I wasn’t expecting that from him.

It was a simple gesture. One I appreciated considering how nervous I became.

****

The Frathouse was in sight, cars were littered around the parking lot alongside most of the students in Kingston high, I took off my helmet as Dylan pulled over. The place reeked of alcohol but we moved closer nevertheless and went in.

It got even worse. The smell of pot dozed my senses, I couldn’t hear my thoughts since the music was playing so high.

I was feeling all too light-headed, every corner looked similar so much so that I couldn’t even tell the direction it came in.

Most of the students were either drinking and dancing or doing both.

“Ok Dylan, I’ll tell you when I’m ready to go.”

I gulped.

Put your big girl pants on and do this.

I was about to leave but he pulled me towards him.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

We were raising our voices just to be heard.

“Yes, I’ll be okay.”

I responded rolling my eyes. I won’t. This is a disaster and I’ll probably regret it tomorrow morning.

“I have been to a high school party before.”

I added when he looked at me sceptically.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Alright, just be careful.”

My eyes darted to the shirt one more time and I smiled.

“Even if I wasn’t, I have a feeling you’ll always be there to save me.”

I mumbled under my breath and walked away.

No memories tonight. It’s all about letting loose and having fun. I can do that.

For now, the first thing I’ll do is fulfil the promise I made to Miranda.

It’ll give me the chance to speak with her about pressing issues.

Working with the little knowledge I had, I figured that I found the bitches and her minions, I might find Miranda with them.

But, if that happens as Dylan said, I’m going to ask for an explanation before jumping to the conclusion that she might be one of them.

After minutes of searching, I noticed them close to the open bar. Of course, Miranda was with them, she stood aside but she was there. Her eyes lit up when she sighted me.

Suddenly, they widened, she began twitching them then darting to another area, then one hand went across her throat which was very weird.

I frowned.

She was trying to tell me something, but since I don’t speak sign language I’ll just have to ask

I got to them and Paula’s head went up to acknowledge my presence.

“Camilla Renee.”

She stated. We are doing full names now? The final round had her shaken.

I rolled my eyes waiting for Miranda to come along.

“I didn’t come here for you, I’m here for her.” I nudged my head towards Miranda, they started chuckling.

“I have no idea what’s funny?”

I shrugged.

“Nothing, it’s funny you think one of us would want to associate with you.”

She trailed her eyes on my body, chuckled mocking me then left.

I had no idea but it hurt, it made me feel ugly. The dress wasn’t that bad, sure theirs were twice the size of mine, lesser that is.

****

After my third shot of tequila, I started getting tipsy. My vision was a little blurred, but I could see Miranda from afar running towards me.

“I’m so sorry, I tried to tell you to wait.”

I rolled my eyes as she slid in close to me.

“Aren’t you one of them? Why are you even talking to someone like me.”

I slurred, reaching for my next shot of alcohol. The burn helps with the nauseating feeling of contempt.

“Camilla, there are a lot of things you still don’t understand.”

Of course, there is. That’s the oldest trick in the book, try something else, Miranda. Lying is not your stitch it appears.

“I know it looks stupid, but I swear there’s a reasonable explanation for everything.”

I rolled my eyes, moving the bottle back.

“Then explain everything to me.”

I demanded. She exhaled, looked in all directions then started.

“My parents work at Paula’s house.”

She started. I cringed my nose.

“Who’s Paula?”

I stuttered, I can’t recall any names. She sounds like someone I should know.

“The leader.”

She replied in a duh tone. Yeah, I should know but if I wasn’t stoned I’d roll my eyes. Yet here we are.

“I have to do what they say or else my parents might get blamed by her for something they have no idea on. It’s not like I want to do these nasty things, but I don’t have a choice either. It’s a well-paying job that my family needs.”

Even with the alcohol in my system, The guilty train knocked me right over.

I had no clue. Dylan was right. I judged her without thinking, but her hands were tied. She was living a life that wasn’t hers.

“I think you might need this more than me.”

Picking up the bottle, I placed it in front of her, pressing down my lips and offering a small smile.

****

Author’s Note;

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