Killing (And Other Games)

(One)

(One)

Looking at the building, I can see why they didn't want to give it up. A three story masterpiece of architecture juts up from the ground, huge glass windows giving the impression of no walls at all, metal and white forming together to create the future in one glance. It's in a booming area too. No wonder they refused to pack up.

"Mum, I can't do this," I say, gripping onto the seatbelt. Mum examines her hair in the mirror, pushing it this way and that. She hardly hears me speak.

"Yes you can Immy, you're a strong, smart, tal..." she trails off as she finds a piece of hair that's out of place. I groan and sink into the plush leather, wishing and begging the universe that it was normal for  Australians to live on campus. How hard would it be for my mum to just let me live with her? I hardly take up space and I keep to myself. It's her boyfriend, clearly, who ordered the shift. He probably thinks I'm thirty and married for all he knows. Sometimes I question if he knows my name.

"Mum, what if they're a bunch of creeps living here? You won't make me stay will you?"

"Oh honey, if it comes to that bridge then we'll cross it but look at this place. You can't tell me you don't want to live here."

"I do! My problem is the five other people living here! We own the house, why can't we kick them out?" After the divorce, my mum had gone into property investment. She owned eight houses in the city and rented them out, waiting for the right time to sell. It was a side activity she did with all the money she'd gotten from my dad's seven figure salary job.

"They've been living here forever Immy and, besides, it's basically an apartment block so there's no need. You'll have your own room, bathroom and veranda. You know what other teenagers your age are doing? They're working at McDonalds and sharing rooms with their siblings."

I sigh dramatically, knowing she's right. The house would be the perfect deal if I knew everyone living in it. The location was great; two tram stops away from my university and a minute walk to a whole street of clubs and shops. "Okay, let's get this over and done with." We get out of the car and go to the boot, dragging my suitcases out. I didn't bring much, only my clothes, books and computer. I figured that I could buy anything else I needed or just go back to my mums and grab anything I left behind.

I flip my sunglasses down over my eyes, throw my bag over my shoulder and trudge towards the house. Mum follows, her high heels clicking against the pavement, and mutters under her breath about the condition of the place. "They really need to get a gardener in to cut the front lawn," she says and I roll my eyes. The little patch of green grass looks pretty fine to me, but then, I'm not some hot shot property investor, am I?

My bag begins to drop and I lean down to hitch it up. When I look back up, a man is walking down the cobblestone path towards me. Correction: a young, good looking man is walking towards me. I try not to look too flustered.

"Hey there!" he greets, holding his hand out for me. He obviously doesn't notice the bag crushing my spine. "I'm Ryker, you must be Charlainne."

"Ah, no, thats my mum." His attention turns to my mum who appears at my side, a sly grin on her face. She gives me a sideways glance as they shake hands and I groan inwardly. I'm going to be hearing 'I told you so' for months.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience of this all," my mum says, flipping her hair back. Out of ten I'd give Ryker a solid seven, maybe an eight if he wasn't so pale. Who is this pale in an Australian summer anyway?

"No, it's fine," Ryker dismisses but his voice is strained. Under that I notice a slight accent and I wonder if he could be Swedish. With his bright blue eyes and light blonde hair it wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination. All over, I feel myself going red. I haven't had much experience with boys, to tell the truth. When girls were dating in high school I was at home watching cop shows, eating Snack chocolate.