Resisting the Player -- [Completed - Unedited]

Chapter 9: Bella or Clary?

I sigh contentedly, proud of myself and my logistic abilities.

Aaron chuckles and shakes his head from where he's sitting up on my bed. "You're crazy."

"I'm a genius."

"Crazy."

"Genius."

He shrugs. "Same thing."

"Ha!" I say triumphantly. "So you admit I'm smart."

"You're also impossible to have a conversation with."

I pretend flip my hair over my shoulder. "It's because of my advanced intelligence level, isn't it?" I say smugly.

He snorts. "Yeah, that's definitely it."

"Aw, thanks," I grin.

He eyes me. "That was sarcastic."

"No, really?"

He rolls his eyes before falling back on my bed and spreading his limbs like a starfish.

"Get off," I groan in annoyance.

"No."

"But it's my bed," I say. "Why are you even here?"

"To annoy you."

"Why?" I whine.

"Because I find it entertaining."

"Fuck you."

"Not my type."

"I think that's your favorite phrase."

"Shh..."

I'm silent for five seconds before I do a double take.

"Why are we being quiet?"

"Because you talk too much."

I roll my eyes. "You're crazy."

"Well, according to you, that means I'm a genius, so thank you for the compliment."

Damn. Using my own logic against me. What a smart fucker.

I turn back around to read my book and Aaron doesn't move from my bed.

I stare at the book, but I'm not reading anything. I'm thinking about what Aaron said, about trying to make the world a better place even thought it doesn't, and won't, matter.

Are we supposed to try even though the odds of succeeding are so obviously stacked against us?

Someone grabs my shoulders from behind. "Boo!"

I scream and jump up.

I turn around to find Aaron laughing his ass off.

"You're such an ass," I scowl.

"You should've seen the look on your face," he says, still laughing.

"What time is it?" I ask. "Shouldn't you be at your house?"

"It's only three-thirty, Cassie," he says after checking his phone. "And my parents are out."

"Of course they are," I sigh to myself.

"So..." Aaron says. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," I say, my mouth opening in a yawn. "Do you like naps?"

His eyebrows raise. He does that a lot, does he have involuntary muscle movement? "I mean, I'm not against them."

I yawn again. "Well, I'm going to take, like, a three-hour nap, so you're welcome to leave if you don't want to sleep with me."