The Player

Chapter 19

Brielle

3:15 PM

"Are you excited for your dance showcase in a few weeks?" Sam asked, sinking her teeth into her

mom's homemade carrot cupcake. Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

Sam and I sat on the rusted swings in her backyard, trying not to break the old swing-set. Christopher

had just asked me out yesterday, and I was dying to tell her.

"I'm a mix of both excited and really nervous." I dipped my fingers into the cream cheese icing on my

cupcake before licking it off. With all the Christopher drama, the upcoming showcase had completely

slipped my mind.

"Christopher has surprisingly learned a lot, and I feel like I'm ready. But the Joffrey scout is going to be

there and if I don't nail it I'm totally screwed." I needed to impress him. If I didn't I could kiss my dreams

of going to the Joffrey School of Ballet goodbye.

"Well, I know you'll be amazing," Sam reassured me. I took a deep-breath, trying to keep my stress at

bay. "I sure hope so."

I angled my body towards her, a smile reaching across my face. "I actually came here because I have

something really exciting to tell you."

She began to bounce on her swing, the joy evident on her face. "What is it? Did you get a car? Did you

win the lottery? Did you buy the whole season of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills on DVD for

me?"

My brows furrowed in confusion. "No, no, and what did I tell you about watching reality TV?" She

dismissively waved her hand at me.

"The news is that on our date yesterday, Christopher asked me to be his girlfriend."

Sam let out a high-pitched squeal before jumping out of her seat and wrapping me in a tight hug. "I'm

so happy for you!" she cried.

"Thank you, but..." I bit on my lip nervously. "I don't know, I feel like we might be rushing things."

Her eyes grew concerned. "But I thought that you wanted him to ask you out?"

"I did!" I said quickly. "It's just that I was sitting down today and realized that we've only been on one

date, and I don't really know that much about him."

Sam looked at me with confusion. "You guys have been spending so much time together that I highly

doubt that you don't know him."

"Well we spend most of the time bickering," I diverted my attention to my feet before looking up at her

again. "I feel like I know all of the big things about him but none of the little stuff."

She paused, lost in her thoughts, before finally replying to me. "I just think that you should be honest

with him and tell him how you fell."

I let out a big huff. "That's easier said than done."

"You're telling me. I've been trying to tell my mom that her carrot cake is dry for years."

My jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me, your mom makes the best carrot cake!"

"You need to focus," she commanded. "Now text him before you chicken out."

I took in a deep breath before taking out my phone. After typing, I quickly clicked send, not wanting to

second guess myself.

Come over. We need to talk. -B

~~~

I laid face down on my sofa, waiting for Christopher to get here. In the meantime, I entertained myself

by reading The Hunger Games. It was my third time reading the series, and I still didn't know if I was

Team Peta or Team Gale. When the doorbell finally rang it took me by surprise, snapping me out of

concentration.

I quickly looked myself over and made sure that I looked presentable before making my way to the

door. When I opened it, I was welcomed by a disgruntled Christopher.

His shirt was wrinkled, and he raked his hands through his sandy blondehair. By how unkept it was, I

knew it wasn't the first time he had done it. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts because it took

him a few moments to finally notice me in front of him.

After recovering from the shock of seeing him so un-put together, I began to talk. "Hey I wanted to talk

to you abou-"

Before I could finish, he quickly cut me off. "Look, I don't know why you want to break up, but I just

want you to know that I can change whatever you need me to in order to make us work." He grabbed

both of my hands from my sides. "Just don't give up."

I looked at him, my brows furrowed in confusion. Breaking up? "What are you talking about?"

"The text you sent me." Sensing the confusion on my face, he further explained. "The one where you

said that we needed to talk?"

It took me a few more moments before a wave of realization hit me. He must have misinterpreted my

text. "I just meant that I wanted to talk to you, not that I wanted to break up."

He looked at me, his face dropping in the process. "Brielle, you don't send someone "we need to talk" if

you don't want to break up!"

"Ok, well how was I supposed to know that?" I said defensively, crossing my arms.

"Everyone knows that!"

Crap, I thought, as the memories of those being the universal words for breaking up came flooding

back. I didn't mean to scare him, but I could see how it came across.

"Well, I'm sorry. And I promise that next time we have to talk I won't actually say: "we have to talk."

"I appreciate it," he said, his usual boyish grin returning. "Now can I come inside, it's freezing out here."

"It's nearly eighty degrees." I deadpanned.

"Yeah, I know, I just wanted an excuse to come in." I rolled my eyes and opened the door wider for him,

allowing him to enter.

"Your house is really nice," he commented, surveying the room. I rolled my eyes, compared to his

mansion, I highly doubt that my house was anywhere close to nice.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a really good liar?"

He grinned. "I mean it. Sometimes my house just feels so lonely and empty sometimes. It's almost too

big. Do you know what I mean?"

I looked at him, my face void of expression. "That is the richest thing I've ever heard." He let out a

laugh. "I'm lonely and poor so if I were you I wouldn't be complaining."

He plopped down on my couch and grabbed the remote, putting on a football game with teams I've

never heard of. "Now what did you want to talk to me about?"

I let out a deep breath. I always found it difficult to tell people how I feel, but if I wanted to have a good

relationship with him, I was going to have to express my worries.

"I just feel as though we may have moved a little too fast."

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Do you regret saying yes to me yesterday?"

I vigorously shook my head no. "Not at all! It's just that," I struggled to find a way to explain it. "I really

like you, and it feels like it was just yesterday that I was hating your guts while scraping gum off the

bleachers."

He placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be hurt. "Ouch."

"Shut up," I said playfully punching him in the arm. "What I mean is that my feelings for you are new,

and I don't want to rush into a relationship with you. I really want us to work."

He nodded his head in agreement. "So, what do you need for it to feel like we didn't rush into this?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "I don't know? Maybe more time to get to know each other? And not

just the big things, but the little things as well. Like your favorite color or pizza shop."

"Green and Pizza Hut. Are we good now?"

"Come on, I'm serious!" I said, mid-laugh. "I just really don't want to mess this up."

"So, what I'm getting from this is that you want me to take you on more dates so that we can get to

know each other more?"

I nodded my head. "Basically."

He jumped up to his feet, facing me. "Well consider this our first date post-dating." My forehead

wrinkled in confusion. "Look, I'll figure out the wording later, but right now let's go! Chop, chop!"

I slipped on my converse as he waited for me to finish. "Where are going?"

He flashed me a smile. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

"That's so cheesy!" I said, wrinkling my nose.

His nose mirrored mine. "Yeah, I regretted it after I said it, but that's not the point."

"And what is?"

"The point is that I am going to knock your socks off with every date that we go on until you are

completely wooed out."

"I highly doubt that." I challenged.

He nodded his head. "It's going to happen. And for every great date that we go on, I get a kiss."

I paused for a while, pretending the mull the thought over in my head. "Deal."

"Deal. Now prepare to be wooed."

I rolled my eyes. "Bring it on."