The Player

Chapter 6

Brielle

11:04 PM

"You're a horrible person, you know that right?" I told Christopher, now speeding down my street. "You

claim that you're not a jerk and then you lie to my brother just to get a rise out of him?"

He stayed silent, his focus still on the road. His knuckles were clenching the steering wheel so tight that

they had turned white.

"So you have nothing to say for yourself?" I rolled my eyes.

The nerve of this guy!

Huffing in anger, I crossed my arms and diverted my attention to the passing scenery. Just when I

thought that I may have judged him prematurely, he does something like this to remind me exactly who

he is. Just when the silence became unbearable, he broke it.

"I don't want to talk about it."

I scoffed, my anger returning to me once more. "Considering that you basically told my brother that we

slept together, you don't get to say when or when we don't talk about it."

"I just wanted to get a rise out of him." He said, turning his attention to me. A flash of regret shone in

his eyes, before being replaced by his usual mischievous one.

"But honestly you should be thinking me. Most girls would love for me to say that I've slept with them,"

a smug smile now sat on his face. "So you're welcome."

"Excuse me! I should wipe that smile right off your face you little piece of- "

I cut myself off, looking for the nearest thing to me that I could hurt him with. Settling on my ballet flats,

I grabbed one and whacked him repeatedly on the arm as hard as I could.

He began to laugh, seemingly unaffected by blows.

Darn his muscular arms.

"All jokes aside though," he said, his features softening. "I am sorry." This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"It's ok," I said. Even though I was still pissed, I had no clue how long I was going to be with him

tonight. It would be exhausting to be mad at him the entire time.

"Just where are you taking me?"

We had been on the road for about ten minutes, and this side of town was unfamiliar to me. He ignored

my question, only answering with silence. I tried to nag him, hoping that it would make him talk.

"Are we going to the beach?" I asked. "Because I really like the beach. I like the ocean too. I swim

there all the time. One time when I was a kid I almost drowned in a pool. It was very traumatic for me. I

should probably see a therapist."

I saw a slight tick in his jaw, showing that my annoyance tactics were working.

"Are we going to the movies? I really like movies. But not action movies like Star Wars. I don't know

how people even watch Star Wars to be honest. Are we going to the park? Are we going camping? Are

you going to murder me in the woods?"

"I wish," he said underneath his breath.

"Hey I heard that!"

"We're going back to my house." He finally told me.

Unbelievable.

I don't know what he meant by that, but if he was trying to insinuate me hooking up with him, then he

was mistaken.

"If you think that I'm going to do anything with you, you're wrong." I warned him. "So unless my house

is code for IHOP, you can drop me off."

"IHOP?" he asked, completely missing the point. "You do know that it's eleven at night right?"

I huffed, getting frustrated. Even though he completely dodged my question, I still felt the need to

defend my favorite pancake house.

"It's never to late for pancakes," I replied matter-of-factly. "It's called brinner."

"Brinner?" He choked out, trying to hold back his laugh.

"Jesus, how many times have you hit your head?" I threw my hands up in the air exasperatedly. "It's

when you eat breakfast for dinner. Since breakfast and lunch is brunch, breakfast and dinner is brinner.

That's simple math."

"I don't think that's math."

"That's not the point!" I shook my head, trying to shake off the conversation. "Just tell me why are you

taking me to your house before I walk back home!"

"Calm down, it's just a party at my house."

I let out a deep breath. I really didn't want to have to go back home and face Scott.

"Since we only have two more days of summer, Melanie made me throw one."

I shivered at the mention of her. Melanie Stuart is Christopher's only consistent girlfriend. They are on

and off, but when they are off, Christopher makes sure to be with as many girls he can. When he gets

tired of it, he gets back together with her and repeats the cycle over and over again. She always made

sure to make all of Christopher's conquests lives' miserable as a way of revenge. It never made sense

to me to take it out on the girls, and not your own boyfriend, but Melanie was not known for being the

sharpest tool in the shed.

"If it's at your house then why are you here?" I wondered. While I may not go to many parties, I was

pretty sure that the host being there was a key component. "Shouldn't you be there?"

"My sister has it under control," He responded. "And I'm not going to babysit you all night, so when we

get there, just go up to my room and wait. I'll come and drop you back off at your house in a few hours."

"Wait, why can't I go the party!" I protested. There was no way that I was going to spend my first high

school party locked in some guys bedroom.

"Have you ever been to one?" He asked.

"Yeah, plenty," I lied. I guess that I was too embarrassed to tell the biggest partier in the entire school

that I had never been to one. I try not to care about what people thought about me, but with

Christopher, it was different. And I hated it.

"I go to ragers like every weekend." I added on, hoping that saying more would make my story more

credible.

He laughed under his breath, before looking at me.

"No one who actually goes to parties calls it a rager."

Crap.

Considering that I spent most of my time dancing and watching movies from two decades ago, I wasn't

very well versed on modern day lingo. What did they even call a party these days?

"Just stay in my room."

"You're a bigger pain in the butt than my brother," I mumbled, turning away from him.

"I heard that."

~~~

Fifteen minutes later, we stopped in front of Christopher's house. It was massive, with huge white

columns, a gate, and a courtyard with a marble water fountain in the center. There were cars parked in

front, and the loud music could even be heard from in our car.

Even with the substantial amount of teen movies that I've watched, nothing could have prepared me for

what I saw when we walked in. The house was absolutely packed, and the music was so loud that I

thought my ear drums were going to burst. But for some reason, I loved it. The energy in the air was so

contagious that I didn't want to leave.

"The stairs are over there," Christopher shouted in my ear, trying to be heard over the blaring music.

He pointed his hand to a grand staircase to my left. "My room is the first door on the right."

When I did reach his room, I was surprised. It was nothing like I would have assumed. Instead of

having a dirty, cluttered room with posters nearly everywhere like my brother and nearly every other

teenage boy, his room was pristine. It had light blue walls with white wood detailing. The room

contained minimal furniture, with only a white bed frame with matching white covers, and a desk

pushed to the corner.

I walked over to it, a picture frame catching my eye. It was a young Christopher, maybe six, with a girl

that I presumed to be his sister. They were at the beach, in front of a pretty impressive sand castle. I

picked it up, trying to get a better look. Christopher looked so innocent in the photo, his smile stretching

from ear to ear.

What happened to that little boy?

"What are you doing?" A voice asked from behind me.

Frightened, I threw the picture in the air and let out a high-pitched shriek. I fumbled with the frame,

trying to catch it, before finally regaining control and quickly setting it back on the desk.

I turned around, now face to face with a girl, and leaned my body against the desk awkwardly, trying to

seem less flustered than I was.

"Nothing." I said, tucking a piece of loose hair behind my ear, my face still a bright red. "Christopher just

told me to wait here until he can drop me back off at home."

"Well, I'm Nicole, Chris's older sister." She was beautiful, with light brown hair and bright green eyes.

She smiled at me, making me feel at ease. "And you are...?"

Brielle." I responded. "Me and your brother are just friends."

She laughed. "Trust me, I know. If Chris had brought a girl to his party Melanie would have actually

killed him."

I cursed under my breath, realizing that Melanie might have seen me enter with Christopher. If she

even had a suspicion that something was going on between us, she would make my life miserable.

I must have voice my concern out loud, because Nicole responded, trying to comfort me.

"Don't worry, I'm still scared of her. When I told Chris that I didn't approve of her, she cornered me at

school and told me that I looked like if Shego from Kim Possible and the naked mole rat had a baby."

She shuddered at the thought.

"Oh my god that's awful," I said, covering my mouth with my hand in shock.

"Don't worry," she said, brushing it off. "Two days later I poured a red slushy over her head at lunch."

"That's brilliant," I said, letting out a billowing laugh.

She shrugged. "I had just binged watched a season of Glee and got inspired."

She refocused her attention to the matter at hand. "Why aren't you down there?" she questioned.

After I told her the whole story, she got up, now excited. "Come on!" she said, getting off of

Christopher's bed and walking towards the door. "You're going to the party."

"I can't, I'm not dressed right." I looked down at my leggings and baggy grey sweatshirt. "I actually look

homeless."

She playfully rolled her eyes, before grabbing my hand. "I know, that's why I'm so excited. I love

makeovers!"

I nodded, giving her my approval, and tried not to take offense to what she said. I knew that I didn't look

great at the moment, but I didn't know that I was full-fledged makeover bad.

Forty minutes later, we were finished. I was wearing one of Nicole's tight, strappy dresses with a pair of

her chunky heels. She had pulled off a miracle, making my once dull, brown hair fall down my back in

long, shiny waves. Staring in her full-length mirror, I felt like a different person.

"You look hot!" Nicole said, hyping me up. "Now go have fun!" She made shooing motions with her

hands, pushing me out of her doorframe.

After saying a quick thank you, I left, going back down the staircase and into the party. It was in full

swing, with people dancing with one another everywhere. I made a beeline for the kitchen, assuming

that the drinks would be there. I had never drunk before, but since I wasn't friends with anyone at the

party, I knew that having a little alcohol would help ease my nerves.

When I reached the kitchen, couples were kissing everywhere. I nudged one that was blocking the

punch to the side before pouring myself a glass. Not tasting a lot of alcohol in it, I chugged the rest of

my cup before downing a second one as well.

The drink was much stronger than I anticipated, because I soon began to feel woozy. Now feeling more

courageous, I made my way to the dance floor. But before I could reach it, a hand grabbed onto my

arm, and a strong voice from behind me shouted in my ear.

"What the heck are you doing here?"