The Player, The Game

Chapter 1

And it was done.

His voice broke slightly over the phone as he replied with a typical answer a boy trying to save his pride would say: "Nah, it's cool. We weren't together anyway." But he thought we were. And his pride is too late to be saved now, because I warned him from the very start. But he didn't listen, these boys never listen.

Ha! He probably thought I would fall for him! But honey...that's not how it works. I don't fall for you, you fall for me. I don't take drugs, I am a drug. And once your addicted, even after I'm gone, I'll be in your system forever. You'll still crave me. You'll be frozen in an ocean of attachment. You'll be falling, and I won't be there to catch you.
He can't say I never warned him though. And now I'm going to be stuck at the top of his list of best things he never had. But that's okay. I'm on a lot of lists. He's just another boy to me.

*

The sunlight peeked through my curtains, forcing me to open my eyes even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I threw the covers off of me, and sat up on my bed, wincing as my feet touched the cold tiled floor of my bedroom. I raised my arms in a yawn, feeling like I had a long night. Ironic, because I wasn't the one who had just been dumped. Hypothetically speaking, since we weren't even dating. But once again, the guy ended up taking the whole thing too seriously. I just wanted a little fun, that's all. Why couldn't they get that?
I stood up, and picked up my phone from my bedside table. Lucky me, no desperate texts. It was 6:30, which meant I had only half an hour to get ready for school. Not a problem for me, since I had mastered the art of sleeping in and having to get ready in 10 minutes. Soon I was ready, and did a once-over in the mirror. Long, dark brown hair which was naturally wavy, that matched with my dark brown eyes. Bigger bottom lip that was quite pouty. A thin waist that jutted out into my big hips. Tan skin. I looked acceptable, but I knew I would look like hell to someone today. I sighed inwardly. I just hoped he'd take this well! But honestly, I didn't care.

I was soon on the premises of Palmwood High, and there was a huge bus waiting on the road for us. I had almost forgot! We had a road trip to the museum today! I loved to go on these trips, because they were mini get-aways from school, and I needed lots of those. I walked up to the bus, and spotted my two favorite idiots.

"Oh, look who decided to grace us with her presence!" Mazzy faked a British accent.

"Queen Layla, herself." Wendy said in her most polished accent.

"Shut up guys. I have good news." I laughed.

"Oh, you mean good for you, right?" Mazzy raised a brow, smirking.

"Well, in the long run, good news for everyone." I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Well, share the secret!" Wendy said, tapping her fingers on her arm impatiently, even though she knew what I was about to say.

"I ended it with him." I told them, softly.

"We all know you did! We want the details!" Mazzy blurted out.

"Dude, how did he handle it? Well, or...?" Wendy asked, her face a bit concerned.

"He pretended he didn't care. But we'll see how this affected him today." I told them.

"I'll keep my eyes peeled! I'll scrutinize him wherever he goes!" Wendy said, pretending to look out for him.

"Haha! It doesn't really matter though guys." I told them. This didn't matter to me, I was so used to it.

"Even though this gets boring for you, doesn't mean we don't enjoy it!" Mazzy chuckled.

"Oh please, only because you guys are never involved." I sighed.

People started boarding the bus.
"We'll see if he hates you, or if he really doesn't care." Mazzy nudged past me.

"We'll see."
But I knew it would be the former.

I felt at home in the museum. I love art, and was looking forward to seeing what pieces they had here! Art was another one of my past times, well one of my past times that wasn't bad, anyway.

I walked through a long, wide, cream passageway with abstract paintings on both walls, feeling totally at ease and enjoying how the artists made their art come alive with different strokes and techniques and colors! Until..I felt someone looking at me. I turned and saw two brown eyes staring right at me.

He wasn't supposed to be looking at me. I turned back around. Damn. I turned to check if he was still staring, and was surprised that he was! This meant that he was still so deeply stuck with me that he didn't even have the shame to turn away even after I caught him staring. Shit.

"Someone's got it bad..." Wendy smirked. "We're in a museum but your still the main attraction to him!" She laughed.

"I told you I'd be scrutinizing him! Thank goodness I am too, because his reactions towards you are hilarious!" Wendy tried to hold in her laughter.

"Oh, stop it. I feel bad for hurting him. His eyes look so sad." I said, scrutinizing his face.

"No, you don't feel bad, just relieved. Relieved that you got him off your back." Mazzy said, coming up behind me.

"You might be right, but I'm not heartless. I still feel bad!" I told her.

And I actually did. I thought I didn't care, but I always ended up feeling slight remorse afterwards.
"But he should have known. It's all part of the game, and unfortunately he got played by the master player!" Wendy said, and then her and laughed.

"You guys are too mean!" I laughed back.

"I did warn him." I said, my eyebrows creasing into a slightly worried frown. And he's much better off without me, by far.

"He enjoyed it while it lasted, I'm sure honey. Forget about it." Mazzy assured me.

But I had forgotten. And I was already looking for some more fun. And luckily for me, I could get it, easily. And that's what I was going to do soon.