Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

TUESDAY.

Today starts averagely. Boring is another way to put it.

I forfeited yesterday entirely, the aftermath of winning the trophy, maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all.

I didn’t see the entire Kingston High gush over Nate. It’s pretty much a win-win.

That aside, I slept and arose on an actual bed, it didn’t mean jail in a correctional facility serving God knows how many long years.

I get to go back to school and live the life of a normal teenager. Everything is only possible because of him. And we aren’t even on speaking terms.

*I think.* The message from last night remained on seen in the morning. Not even a fucking emoji. Who does that?

“Dylan does.”

My subconscious answers. Of course.

I got clad in blue jeans and a red shirt, I’m feeling colourful on the outside.

Reaching for my cell and other essential items, I stuffed them into my bag, hung it over my shoulder and left my room.

Mom and dad weren’t at the dinner table, I got to know they were finalizing the purchase of *our* new house.

It was just Mr and Mrs Emerton, Dylan and me. Speaking of missing people, Blake was not here either.

Did I miss something in between the holding cell and the primary hearing? I established a mental note at the back of my head to query Dylan when I got the chance, granted he might take it the wrong way, but I’m curious.

Setting my bag aside, I drew a seat, two seats away from him, slid into it and set my hands over the desk.

“Good morning Camilla, I reckon you slept well.”

I pursed my lips at her statement, curving them into a forced smile, then nodded my head.

I truly did not.

****

Breakfast is over, everyone moves to the kitchen to drop their utensils and plates, Dylan is faster than all of us, tossing them aside then reaching for his tiny backpack.Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

He’s moving like a ghost. Barely uttering one word all through. I forgot about the issue with his mother and father even. We argued about that before I got brought in. Did they ever trash it out? So many gaps.

“I will miss the light your presence has brought in this house Camilla dear.”

Dylan’s mother gushes over my figure, moving to peck the top of my forehead.

From the corner of my eyes, Dylan is fuming by the side, his gaze locked on both of us. My best guess is that he heard what she just said.

“Thank you, I enjoyed every moment of my stay.”

I emphasised the first verb since he was listening in. Leaving was not by choice nor did I have a say in it, I shouldn’t be punished for it. Much less by him.

I stepped away, bidding them goodbye, Dylan moved ahead before I reached the doorway, forcing me to quicken my pace and reach him right before he gets on his motorcycle.

“Hey!”

I poke his shoulder, frowning my face in irritation. I don’t plan on following this phase all through the day. If he has something to say, he should fucking spit it out.

“What is it?”

I recoil at his clipped tone, taking a second to recover. Did he just ask me *what is it?*

The audacity.

“What is it? Are you fucking blind or merely stupid? Maybe a bit of both because you’re clearly something.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, scowling severely.

“I have no idea what you’re going on about Camilla. We are going to be late, if you don’t mind, get on.”

He nudged a helmet towards me. I gasped this time around.

He isn’t on his period. That’s the only explanation for this mood shift, or this was the real deal, he’s just been masking the entire time, now that my tenure is nearly through, there’s no need to keep the facade up.

The latter is more convincing.

“Fine then. Just great.”

I snatched it from his grip, getting on his cycle.

He seemed hesitant, parted his lips even, I expected protest afterwards, an explanation hopefully.

Nothing. I got nothing.

A sigh passed through them but that was it, he got on afterwards then drove off. I gripped the sides of the motorcycle, pledging not to lay a finger on him.

****

He switched the engine off and I hopped off, adjusting my shirt and jeans.

I heard him release another sigh.

Things were still awkward between Dylan and me.

Striding into school, people stared at me strangely, if they were in groups, they’ll whisper instinctively.

I tried to shrug it off, but it wasn’t just ten students, it was the entire student body as I strode past them.

Was happened in twenty-four hours?

I got to my locker, input the combination and focused on getting my books out, I slammed it shut after picking the stuff I needed, but then I sighted someone beside me staring at an article over her screen.

What’s interesting is that my face is on it. What the…?

“May I see that.”

I didn’t wait for her to consent, I strode carefully and peaked properly. I only glanced through the headline and lost my head.

“CAMILLA RENÉE ARRESTED AND CHARGED WITH ARSON.”

It read. The air was sucked away from my body.

“If you were arrested, how are you here? Are you a criminal?”

I glared and took off without answering.

Somehow, news of my arrest got leaked to the school. How the fuck was that even possible?

Everyone with a device and access to the school’s newspaper was aware.

I’m skipping the first period.

It couldn’t have been Dylan leaking the news right?

Not possible. I shook the thought off.

Someone else must’ve leaked in.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

He inquires facing the rose petals. He’s everywhere I go. Like a fucking tail you can’t take out.

Was he referring to me?

“How do you know it’s me?”

I whisper, striding into the space fully.

“Because I know Camilla.”

He answers.

“Well, that’s not cryptic.”

I mutter under my breath. That’s sarcastic of course.

“Everyone knows I was convicted. I’m not ready to face that music yet.”

I retorted as an answer to the first question.

“WHAT?! how could they possibly find out.”

I would roll my eyes, but I’m drained.

“How could I know Dylan? I’m not a fricking psychic. It got leaked somehow. I just want to stay here for a while, go back to class later.”

“Alright.”

He states simply.

I huff and look away. What’s his fucking problem.

“When are you guys leaving?”

He chirps after a while. Oh, now he wants to face the obvious.

“I’m not sure. Maybe before the week runs out, they’re settling everything. My parents will let me know.”

I shrug my shoulders.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

He mouths.

I tilt my head to his lips, confirming those words to him. They did.

“Dylan, I don’t have a choice.”

“I know you don’t. It does make it better though.”

I scoff and turn to face him fully.

“You’re being a grade-A jerk you realise that? You’re punishing me for something I cannot influence or stop, do you think you’re the only one entitled to get hurt about it? Hell no. You don’t see me acting grumpy or treating you like filth. You know what? Fuck off.”

“Cam..”

I plopped my weight off the grass, storming out of the garden with a frown printed on my face.

****

I’m unable to think properly.

I just let the air escape from my nostrils in an attempt to breathe properly. A failed attempt. I got called to the principal’s office to “explain” myself, it did a little good since another article was published to clear the arson issue. Didn’t stop the girls from mocking me though.

The day’s over, now I can head back home and sleep in.

It does feel like I’m on the verge of losing my mind. I needed to face Dylan, I feel a migraine coming up.

A silly thought crept in, Dylan driving off and leaving me stranded.

He acts inhumane when he’s mad or throwing tantrum, I wouldn’t put it past him.

I breathed in relief, sighting his figure close to his motorcycle, then scrunched my nose in disgust shortly afterwards.

He wasn’t just standing close to his bike, he was also engaging in a conversation with some girl. She giggled to something he whispered, leaning into his chest, twirling a strand of her hair with her fingers and smiling sheepishly.

He raked his hands through his hair and from where I stood, it almost seemed like he was flirting with her.

*Wow.*

For a moment there, I nearly forgot Dylan Emerton was a playboy. Almost.

Technically and in theory, he’s a free man.

How could I miss this side of him? Was his charming side so enticing that I turned a blind eye to the flirty and playboy aspect?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Keeping a low profile, I carefully walked up to them, struggling not to hiss or scoff at her pathetic attempt for a skirt and shirt. A skirt barely reaching her knee might I add and the shirt can pass off for a sports bra.

What parents let their daughter leave the house dressed like a slut?

“You’re here. I’ll see you tomorrow Kate.”

“Do you have to go, we can go back to my place and have lots of fun there.”

She reached for his arm and guess what? He didn’t lift a finger to thwart her movements, my eyes dilated with shock observing both of them closely.

“Yes, I do.”

He answered and she pulled back with a pout.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Dylan.”

I bit my lip to keep mute waiting for her to leave.

He handed me a helmet without uttering a word.

“I could always take a cab, I wouldn’t want to cut in on your flirting.”

I balled my left hand, standing by the cycle without getting on.

“I wasn’t flirting with her. We’re partners on a project.”

“I stood right there. I’m not fucking blind! She was all over you.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t flirting with her.”

He admitted. I gasped in sheer shock.

“May we go now?”

I didn’t drag further, I’m too stupefied to speak. I only got on his bike letting him ride away.

In what world does Dylan treat me like dirt? This one it’ll seem.

****

*Author’s Note*

*PS: I had a busy day hence the late update. Now for the book, I’m mostly speechless and confused at the same time. Well, let’s see how it all turns out. Xoxo.*