Roommates with a Player

Chapter Thirty Nine: Get Off the Bench, You're In the Game

            I found Emma. She’s not coming back. Sorry.

            “God damn it!” I cursed, ramming my truck into reverse and peeling out of the parking lot.

            I didn’t bother reading James’ response; I just kept driving. I flew down the streets, ignoring the honks I got. I was about ten miles over the speed limit and I couldn’t give a single fuck. I wanted the cops to catch me. Maybe I’d keep driving and play a little game of “catch me if you can” with them. I was feeling edgy, reckless, compulsive. I tried to think of where I was headed, but I had no clue. I wasn’t going home; that would just take me back to Mom and Dad who kept bugging me about apartment hunting and I didn’t really want to be anywhere near that. And being home also meant being constantly reminded of Emma. Even though she wasn’t there, everything else was. Her room was left untouched. Her car was still under a dusty sheet in the driveway, never driven. Her diary still tucked in her nightstand cabinet, still incomplete.

            I took a sharp turn and swerved onto a random street. My coffee unhinged from the cup holder and tumbled onto the seat, the liquid splashing across the upholstery. I cursed once more and picked up the now half-empty cup. The cute barista’s number was scrawled across the cardboard. In anger, I chucked the coffee out the window and rode on.

            I was a madman. Who knew that one little thing could set me off? But it wasn’t a light subject, at least not for me.

            I gripped the steering wheel and through gritted teeth, said about every cuss word in the book. It was driving me crazy, knowing that this one, simple girl had seemed to wrap me around her finger. I’d never been played; I’d always been the player! But this was completely different. I was the pawn in her game. I was the fly caught in her web. And she didn’t even know she was doing this to me!

            But Emma had slipped through my hands, along with my second chance. Why had I ever rejected her? What kind of idiot was I? I’d wanted her this whole time, yet I couldn’t bring myself to tell her so. And now she was off in Narnia or some place and I couldn’t even reach her. Mom and Dad had banned all talk with her, saying it would just mess with her head. But I knew Emma had been dying for a sign from us.

            That’s why I’d sent Markus. He’d be my messenger. He’d be the one to go and get her. But he’d failed. And now Emma was out of my reach.

            “Why am I so stupid?!” I shouted to myself.

            To my surprise, I got a response. A loud and obnoxious beeping came from behind me. I checked my rearview mirror to see that there was a car on my tail. I veered to the left and watched the stranger follow right after me.

            I tried to focus on the driver, but all I could see was a giant heap of blonde hair bouncing up and down in the seat. Who could that be? Maybe one of my exes figured out I was back in town and was chasing after me.

            After about five more minutes of playing cat and mouse, I finally screeched to a halt a few blocks away from my house. As soon as I was at a complete stop, I jumped out of the car, and readied my body for a fight, just in case this stranger was some sort of deranged lunatic.

            “Alright,” I shouted at the driver who still hadn’t come out of their car. “Cut the crap. Why are you following me?”

             Finally, the door was kicked open, and emerged from the car was a very familiar looking girl. I remembered vaguely seeing her flocking around my lunch table back in high school. But she wasn’t a “usual customer”, so that meant she probably wasn’t too popular. Eh, whatever. She was hot.