Living With The Player

**CAMILLA**

THURSDAY.

The next morning, I woke up in my bed.

The bed was assigned to me at Dylan’s place.

Speaking of which, where is he? I mean I recall watching a movie with him, the Notebook I think.

I fell asleep at the closing credits and now I’m back in bed. He picked me up again and brought me here.

Wow.

I blushed slightly at the thought of being in his arms.

Why can’t I recall it perfectly?

This stupid habit of forgetting things needs to end.

I blinked my eyes a few times to get the sleep off my eyes after which I stood up to get ready for school.

Taking off my clothes, I hopped into the shower for a quick.

It’s a few minutes after seven meaning I do not have to rush for anything.

For my outfit today, I decided to go in Jeans and a T-Shirt.

It takes roughly fifteen minutes to shower then I got dressed and stood at the edge of the bed.

Since I didn’t drop off my books back in my locker the day before, I kept the books I figured would be useless back at home.

Now it’s downstairs, getting on Dylan’s motorcycle and heading for school with hopes that nothing weird occurs as it did the day before.

About Kyle’s issue since that’s one word to describe it. For today, it’s avoiding him all day. Not ready or willing to settle down and speak just yet.

I’m giving myself the time and space I need to heal. After that, I’ll consider speaking with him.

****

Before anything else, I hurriedly did some of my projects.

When I returned from school yesterday, I was so engrossed over Kyle to start up on anything and now I was behind on my projects which is weird for me. I’m always ahead.

I couldn’t get through all of them that’s how far behind I was, very disappointed.

Shaking my head, I imagined the punishment I’ll receive from the teachers today.

It’ll be a first. All because of Kyle.

Awesome.

In the end, I zipped my bag and hung it over my shoulder ready to exit my room. It’s almost eight anyway.

“Camilla?”

Dylan’s voice came out from the other side of my door. It’s almost but he’s developing courtesy, usually, he’ll barge in.

“Yeah? Come In. It’s open.”

I responded, he unlocked the door and walked in.

Hands in his pockets as usual. His eyes went from my dressing to my bag and finally my face.

His lips tugged in a small smile. Swiping his tongue over his lower lip, he placed both hands in front of me then burst into laughter.

“Hillarious Camilla. You love the school that much?”

Arching a brow, his laughter echoed over the room and I’m left wondering what could be so funny.

“What is it? I’m confused.”

I furrowed my lips expressing that emotion over my face.

“It’s teachers day Camilla. It’s not like one of those useless holidays where you need to go to school. This one you’re allowed to seat back at home and rest.”

Like shackles falling over, I truly noticed what he was wearing.

Un-Dylan like. It was so casual but I thought it’s a “today look.”

Nothing like his usual black and black or black and white.

That explains why the projects were so much.

Oh shit.

“You are a nerd.”

He joked, laughing harder than before.

“It’s not funny. You can stop now!”

I snapped in annoyance.

“But it’s funny. Hillarious. I can almost sense the tears threatening to fall out since you’re so funny Camilla.”

He choked on a few words, clutching his tummy while laughing.

I took off my bag, tossed it on the bed the proceeded to take off my accessories.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

“On second thought, I shouldn’t have told you. It would be priceless to watch you go to school them come back after realising it’s a holiday. Oh, God!”

He exclaimed, bursting into another round of laughter.

“Get out Dylan! I want to change.”

I seethed.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll stop laughing, I guess we all make mistakes after all.”

He chuckled before letting that amusing state wear off. I knew sooner or later he’ll do something to remind me.

“You may leave now. Why did you come here if it’s not a school day?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I faced him feeling a massive glare forming across my face.

“Right.”

His tone went firm and serious. Bipolar. So many confirmations.

“Dylan?”

I asked cocking my gaze over to his side.

His hands flung into his hair, tugging at its root.

“I need to do something before I convince myself not to. It took me a lot of courage to march up to you and I guess the school thing was a way of convincing myself to back up, but I’m standing firm. I should do this.”

He stated confusing me further.

I furrowed my brow in complete confusion.

“Ok…”

I mouthed with a trail, the only response fitted for a statement such as that.

He shook his head slightly then cleared his throat.

Closing the gap between us, he stepped further and reached where I stood.

I lifted my head and met his gaze.

A small smile formed on his lips.

Okay. I take those words back, I’ll take the mocking now.

He’s been weird.

He tried to take another step further, too close.

I gulped and took three steps backwards.

He chuckled again.

“We’ve met before. I can feel it. Before all this.”

He took one step closer.

I retreated. Wait for what? He’s suspicious? How did he find out? Oh shit.

“Then something happened.”

He added halting in his steps. I froze. If he came closer, I couldn’t even move.

“He couldn’t remember, he just can’t.”

I thought to myself.

He gained his composure back, taking a few more steps, closing the gap once again. This time, we were inches apart now.

“And then I think that something might be easy to guess. I can’t help but think that we…”

I shut my eyes in anticipation of his next words, shaken to the core of what they might be. The truth? Another silly ploy of his?

Fuck.

Suddenly, my door clicked open. In a split second, I opened my eyes. The first sight was Dylan’s lips parted, about to make his revelation.

I switched my gaze over his shoulder, taking my eyes to the open door.

I gulped.

This is even worse than yesterday. It’s not even eight and so much has already happened.

My parents are back. My mom and my dad are standing by the fucking door with the position Dylan and are in.

I shoved him slightly, so much so that they wouldn’t notice.

Sticking my hands in my hair, I tugged at its root and switched my gaze back to him.

“No, I didn’t finish my project.”

I stated with a nervous chuckle. Dad gave me a look, the kind he gives when he’s annoyed, but my mom surprisingly smirked.

On one hand, they helped me out of a sticky spot with Dylan. I get another hour or two of escape from my past with him.

On the other hand, I just landed myself in another mess with my dad.

“You’re back!”

I yelled ecstatically.

What? It’s the only thing that popped in my head. I might as well do damage control.

****