My blood ran cold. "What are you doing here?"
He smiled at me. "I knew that you would be here."
"There was no reason you could have known." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why are you really here?"
He dodged the question, placing his hand on my arm. "How have you been?" I quickly recoiled away from him.
"Don't touch me." I seethed. He ignored my gesture, leaning into my ear. "We might as well get down to why you're here. We can go to my place; my parents aren't home."
My jaw dropped. How dare he think that I would ever go anywhere with him after what he did? What he threatened to do?
I pushed him away from me. "I would never go anywhere with you." His face dropped, the warmth leaving his eyes.
His fake kind exterior was replaced with his usual cold demeanor. This was the Derrick I knew.
"Cut the crap Brielle, I know that you want me back. You wouldn't have come here if you didn't." The smile on his face made my skin crawl.
"No, I don't."
"Then why did you come here?" He said, as if it was obvious.
I paused. Why did I come here? I knew that Sam, Scott, and Christopher would never come here to look for me but, maybe subconsciously I did want to see him.
I shook the thought out of my mind. This is why I avoided him like the plague. He was always able to screw with my head without even trying.
I gathered up my courage. "It doesn't matter why I came here, what matters is that we are over. You don't deserve me." I was always unable to stand up to him, but with everything that I've been through, Derrick was the least of my worries. His lip curled into a snarl.
"You start dating this Christopher guy and suddenly you think that you're too good for me?" He gripped his hand around my arm, tighter this time.
"Let go of me!" I demanded, fruitlessly attempting to yank my hand from his grasp. He held me in place.
"Just remember what might happen if you don't do what I say."
The color drained from my face. "You- You wouldn't..." I stammered.
He flashed me a smile. "I would. I'll meet you here at eight."
Before I could protest, the bathroom door behind us opened, revealing a tall blonde walking towards us. She wrapped herself around Derrick, placing her head atop one of his shoulders.
"Who are you talking to?" She asked, only focusing on him. She seemed to forget that I was even there.
"Just an old friend baby, don't worry about." They turned around and sat down in the booth.
He glanced back at me and sent me a smile, relishing in my wounded expression.
While I never wanted to get back together with him, it hurt me to realize that our special booth wasn't that special to him. I was disposable to him, just like I was disposable to Christopher. I pushed my upcoming tears back.
I had bigger fish to fry than a booth. My mind wandered to his earlier demand. I didn't want to meet Derrick here, but if I didn't...
I shuddered. I couldn't afford not to. But the thought of going anywhere after what just happened to me and Christopher made me want to barf.
YOU ARE READING
Dancing With The Player | ✓Teen Fiction
When Brielle's dance instructor gets mad at her for missing yet another rehearsal, she gives Brielle an ultimatum: lose her solo that she needs to get into Julliard, or teach Christopher Russel, the school's quarterback, ballet in two months. With...