Dancing with the Player

Chapter Nine


7:04 AM

I placed both of my hands on Scott's chest, trying to push him away from Christopher, but to no avail. The two stared at each other, their jaws tight, waiting for the other to make the first move. Before that could happen, I butted in.

"Please, don't do this. I've had a bad enough day as it is," I pleaded to Scott, my eyes round. He grew hesitant as his glare softened, not knowing whether to listen to me or not. I assumed he chose the latter when he averted my eyes, locking onto Christopher's once more.

I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me. "Please, just be my brother and listen to me." I let my eyes be vulnerable, and express all of the hurt that I had experienced today already.

"Please," I whispered.

He gave me a small nod before turning towards Christopher, his finger now pointed at his chest.

"If you ever get near my sister again, by the time I'm through with you, you're going to wish you were dead." I figured that then wasn't the right time to tell him about me and Christopher's joint punishment.

He wrapped his arm around me, comforting me, while we left the principal's office. Once we were a good distance away, I stopped, turning towards him.

"Why do you and Christopher hate each other?" I questioned. This question had been bugging me ever since the incident in my driveway. "Shouldn't you guys be friends since you're both on the football team?"

His face grew pale, his eyes quickly flashing an emotion that I couldn't quite decipher.

"Drop it." He clipped, turning away from me. I would usually just let it go, but whatever happened was important enough for him to punch Christopher in the face. And whether I liked Christopher or not, between practicing for the showcase and scraping the gum off the bleachers, I was going to be spending a lot of time with him.

"No," I demanded, moving in front of him. "You always shut me out, but not with this. Not when whatever is going on between you two affects me. I deserve to know." I crossed my arms, standing my ground.

"I said," he spat out, his voice basically dripping with venom, "Drop it." He stormed down the hallway, leaving me standing there alone.

"Fine." I mumbled under my breath, turning around and heading for my second period class. His suddenly moodiness was only the cherry on top of an already bad day.

I huffed. If all of Junior year was going to be like this, then it was going to be one rocky ride.


"Can you pass the spray?"

Christopher and I were currently scraping the gum out from under the bleachers. I nearly gagged when I saw how much ground there was to cover. I didn't think that the punishment could get any worse, but after I took one look under the seats, I was proven wrong. All the metal underneath was hidden, covered by a layer of multi-colored gum.

I took the spray from by my feet and threw it at Christopher. It was immature of me, but considering that he was nearly a foot taller than me, it was the best I could do to let out my frustration.

"Are you seriously mad at me?" he questioned, picking up the bottle and spraying the hardened gum.

My head whipped in his direction, shocked that he would actually have the nerve to ask me that.

"Yes Christopher," I fumed. "I am mad at you. Anyone would be after all the crap that you put me through." I began scraping more viciously, imagining the dried paste as Christopher's face.

He stopped scraping, now turning his attention towards me. "But you poured water on me, so now we're even."

Are you kidding me?

I threw my scraper into the bucket, making a loud clang. I was so mad that I couldn't even focus on the task at hand.

"You lied that we slept together twice, once to my own brother, the entire school was talking about me the whole day, your evil girlfriend poured Gatorade over my head, and you think that me pouring water on you makes us even?" His eyes grew wide as I continued to speak, apparently detecting the anger in my voice.

"Well when you put it like that I guess not." He scratched the back of his head, looking guilty for what he out me through. "Look, I'm sorry."


He looked at me confused, baffled that anyone would turn down one of his rare apologies. "What do you mean no?"

"I mean no. You can't do awful things and then expect an apology to magically fix it."

"Well at least I'm trying," he huffed, frustration evident on his face. "Doesn't that count for something?"

"Well try harder!" I spat out. "You have no clue what you put me through today! I was miserable because of you." Tears welled up in my eyes. I pushed them back, not wanting to cry. "Why would you even put me through that?"

He was quiet, seeming to soak up what I said. By how long he took to speak I expected him to have a profound response. Instead he said, "Because I'm an ass."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Is that really the best excuse that you have?" He recoiled back, somewhat hurt by my statement.

"I'm going to need a little more than that. Are you mad because your parents won't give you your trust fund? Or did you only get a red BMW instead of the black one you wanted and now your lashing out."

He stayed silent, avoiding my eyes.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that you have a perfect little life. You have everything that you could ever want handed to you on a silver platter. Since you've never had to go through anything in your life, maybe the only true excuse for why you're an awful person is because you truly, deep-down are an ass." I picked back up my scraper, trying to finish and get away from his as quickly as I could.


Edited: 08.02.2019

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