Living With The Player

DYLAN EMERTON

TUESDAY NIGHT.

“She said yes!”

An enthusiastic voice reaches through the door. The guys-Luke, Shawn, Graham, and Ian all cheer while I stagger from the stool. All of them are too drunk to poke for details, but Jimmy’s voice gives it off as something to applaud.

She. Said. Yes. That voice belongs to Jimmy and “she” in this scenario is no other than Camilla.

My cellphone buzzes and I realise it’s well in my grip. I get a notification from Instagram, which allows me to peak at the phone clock before the screen shuts off-7:22 PM.

Where has the fucker been since? He came back here at this hour to declare openly that she said yes.

Wasn’t he supposed to stay at his dorm? Not like Camilla is the kind of girl you wouldn’t gladly announce to the entire fucking world.

“Maybe they’ve been celebrating. That’s why she didn’t answer your last text.”

My subconscious taunts, deliberately, twisting the knife already lodged in my heart.

Alcohol has the guys sprawled across the couch, sofa, and even on the floor.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

Then I hear heavy footsteps attaining towards me. I grip my cell harder, this close to tumbling over.

As much as I tried to get drunk. I didn’t. I’m well sober.

Sober enough to think of Camilla. I am sober enough to relive our final conversation earlier this evening. Sober enough to know she is well out of my reach. She belongs to him now. I want to be anything but sober because the asshole has reached where I am and I have to turn and face him.

His broad shoulders do nothing, but they’re straightened to intimidate. Except I’m sober enough to stand tall and match his grinning face.

He got Camilla. What sane person wouldn’t grin after that?

“Whiskey?”

He cocks a knowingly brown, reaching past my shoulder for the half-empty bottle and a glass.

“Want some?”

He continues. I grip the edge of the chair and turn my head towards him. Our faces were inches apart from touching. I pull back, shaking my head hard. The impulse to punch him isn’t there anymore.

I felt nothing at the moment. Just self-hatred and the urge to throw up.

“No.”

My jaw is firm, but Jimmy barely shrugs, still grinning.

Retrieving the bottle and glass, he fills it up, chucking it straight up and then taking a huge gulp.

“Camilla said yes?”

I ask. A confirmation is exactly what I need now. Not.

“Yes.”

I bob my head, cursing under my breath and finally letting go of the chair.

I’m surprised I don’t fall to the floor, but there’s barely enough stamina, so I find something to grip quickly.

“Congratulations.”

My voice is hoarse. I’m not sure why I said that, but it’s out of my lips and in his ear.

He replaced his grin with a smug smile.

“Thank you. I feel like I’m floating on air.”

I chuckle darkly. Camilla takes all the air away from my lungs. I guess she handed it right to him. The irony.

“Treat her well.”

I carry on, wondering why I’m speaking to the fucker about her. Maybe it’s because the other alternative is taking more alcohol or wallowing in self-pity.

Maybe it’s because I need the realisation to sink in further that I’ve lost her, or maybe it’s because, in some sick and twisted way, Jimmy is the closest thing I have as a connection to her.

“I will.”

He stares me down, silently taunting me as a way of saying, “I will do better than you did.”

I scoff silently.

“She deserves the world.”

I find myself utter and reach for the back of my neck, tugging a strand of my hair. Jimmy’s eyes met suspiciously. I’m not drunk. Weirdly confused and disoriented.

“Goodnight Jimmy.”

“You can take one room upstairs? It’s late.”

Graham offers, swinging his arm over my shoulder.

“It’s fine. My place isn’t too far off from here. I can walk.”

That’s a lie. I live at least half an hour from here. Graham doesn’t know that.

I don’t plan on getting an Uber and I’ll be sick to my stomach if I stay another minute around Jimmy. The constant reminder of what he has. What I had. What I lost.

I gaze past Graham and the others and finally settle on Jimmy. He’s good for her.

He’ll give her everything and more. I’m too fucked up, anyway. My phone buzzes once again. This time it’s a text message. One I don’t open.

“Goodnight.”

I murmur, unsure if any of them heard me. I don’t wait for an acknowledgement before tucking my hands away and trailing out into the cold night. My mind refuses to come to terms with the truth. I’m unable to accept the fact that I’ve lost her. Even though it’s glaring. I just keep going back and forth.

*****

WEDNESDAY.

CAMILLA RENÉE.

“You said yes?”

Miranda throws my word back at me in question form. I roll my eyes, sipping my coffee as she stares from across the table.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, for the fourth time.”

“I thought you liked Jimmy?”

I ask then arch a brow, digesting her expressions.

“I do. I’m just… Wow! Camilla Renée, you sure know how to take people by surprise.”

“You thought I won’t be able to say yes?”

I laugh softly, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. Why would she think I won’t say yes to Jimmy?

“No. I just I wasn’t sure you would ”

She sighs. I want to ask a follow-up question, yet I refrain.

“I did. Jimmy is great, and I said yes to Jimmy. Speaking of which, I have to meet said Jimmy for our project. Take care of this for me? Yeah?”

I gulp a few more sips, then pull my laptop and take my leave.

Walking out through the door, I keep a tight smile on my face for everyone who walks by, but my mind is left unsettled because I can’t help but wonder why Miranda didn’t think I could say yes.

****

“Morning.”

Jimmy whispers behind me, kissing the top of my forehead and then helping me with my jacket.

“I just had coffee with Miranda. Sorry.”

He pouts and then pulls the other cup to himself.

“More for me then.”

Jimmy winks, and I crawl into the booth.

As agreed, we met at a coffee shop to finish up the project, which needs my undivided attention.

I begin with the things I know about Jimmy. Love clowns. Love humour. Dislikes tea. Not a morning person. I’m invested fully in writing everything about him. He teases about writing that I like him and the reason being quote “a hunk”

I ended up getting another cup of coffee.

An hour later, I’ve come up with a page on Jimmy. I read through it and it’s surprising, not trashy.

“We’ll conclude tomorrow.”

I think I’m finished. Just a few more touches.

My phone takes out that time and beeps. I know who it is. Or have a good idea. How?

After I said yes to Jimmy via a kiss, we took a walk around campus. He shared funny jokes and held my hand, more kisses than on the way back.

All was going well until I got a text.

I recall shaking as though I fell into a pool. I recall assuring myself that nothing will make me respond to his last message.

“Text me once you’re free.”

Then I recall texting back around past seven and cursing myself. Finally, I recall gaining consolation in “He won’t finish the project without my presence” With that as a final excuse, I could get some sleep.

Now I know it’s him because I’ve also been waiting for a reply all morning. My cell was the first time I checked. Nothing. I swore more for conceding at all. I was subtle about it.

“What day aside from tomorrow’s meeting”

Okay, maybe not sure much. Again, his project might be due soon.

“Camilla?”

I jerk my hand and face Jimmy. I zoned out again

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Unlocking my screen, I tap on the notification while monitoring Jimmy.

“I said if you wanted to work more or we could pick it up tomorrow?”

Whatever Jimmy uttered after that was void because my brain lost its sense of functioning, hence I can no longer comprehend words. Why? The girl from yesterday just walked in. How is she so perfect?

The same one; at the cafeteria. The one with Dylan. But that’s not all. I whip my head away and face down at the text from Dylan, and that does something else to me entirely.

“Text me when you’re free. I can wait.”

It could be me reading into lines when there’s nothing there, or Dylan intentionally sent that because there’s nothing platonic about it.

****

We might be getting some Dylan-Camilla action in the next few chapters since clearly, we all hate Jimmy. I think he’s sweet though. He may end up getting the girl *wink* Fingers crossed.