A Player's Game

Chapter 23: Monday's Finish What Friday Couldn't

I would like to thank the people that keep reading this book, even though the chapters aren't being updated as consistently as I or you would like them to. Thank you for waiting for the new chapters and still keeping up with this story it means a lot. Please comment, vote, and share this story--It would mean the world to me<3

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He just stood there. Eyes open, probably not believing what he just witnessed. I took a few steps back, shifting my eyes from Logan back to Nate and repeating the process about a million times, wondering what was going to happen next. Although I felt bad, I had nothing to be sorry for. At least I kept telling myself that. I don't even know who Logan actually is, so the fact that I was kissing anyone was none of his business anymore. Plus, I never kissed anyone; Nate kissed me.

"We-I . . ." Nate attempted to break the silence as much as he could, but all he did was stutter. I shifted my eyes back at Logan to notice him swiftly walking towards Nate with determination covering his face. With his long legs, it only took him a few strides to reach Nate and without any hesitation, Logan throws a punch at his face. Nate falls back a bit, colliding into a desk, then stands up again and restores his balance. I look back at Logan who still looks furious as ever and I start to have the feeling he's not finished yet. He takes another few steps and throws another punch at Nate, which Nate in return throws a punch at Logan. As I watch their violence unfold quickly, I feel the need to step in before this gets out of hand or before Logan murders Nate. I rush over to step in front of Nate, even if that meant taking a punch myself; it just needs to stop.

As I'm now standing in front of Nate, Logan doesn't hesitate to throw another punch, "Get the fuck out of my . . ." he doesn't finish his sentence. As soon as Logan realizes I am the one standing in the way of him punching Nate, he ends his sentence and stops his fist before it makes a blunt hit to my face. I look at him. I look at everything that I miss seeing. I miss seeing his chocolatey hair that was always messy, but neat looking at the same time. I miss seeing his tan skin and the feeling when it would come into contact with mine. I miss looking into his brown eyes just like how I am now. The golden specs that illuminate them aren't really that visible in the dark classroom. Gazing at him painfully makes me miss the way I used have a text from him when I got up saying, 'good morning'. I miss when we would go for drives late at night or when he'd come over and just watch a movie. I look over to his arm that's in close proximity to my face still and miss the tattoo that I always forget he has. As soon as he realizes his fist is raised still, he swiftly puts it back at his side and looks into my eyes that are beginning to pool with tears. All I want to do is leave this room and not see him standing two feet away from me.

I look back at Nate to make sure he's alright before I leave. His eyes are focusing on Logan with anger, me being the only thing that's stopping him from throwing another right hook. A bruise looks like it's surfacing around his brow bone and his cheekbone is bleeding along with his lip, but he looks fine enough for me to get the hell out of here. I quickly walk out of the room with tears falling down my face, but I didn't bother to wipe them away. It was only after I heard foot steps behind me that I felt the need for the tears to be swept up by both my thumbs.

"Stella, wait," I heard an all too familiar voice say from behind me and grab my wrist to turn me around. I already knew who it was from the feeling I got when he touched my wrist, but my face soon met Logan's. His face looked strained almost as if it was causing him pain to even look at me. I yanked my arm out of his grip and kept walking away like I was trying to in the first place. It didn't last for long, as he grabbed my wrist and mimicked the same movements as before.

"What? So, now you can't even talk to me?" he was starting to sound hurt, with his voice cracking, sounding like he was on the verge of crying. I searched his eyes for a moment wondering what he wasn't understanding.