The Player novel Chapter 7

Brielle

12:07 AM

"What are you doing here?" A voice behind me asked. I braced myself, expecting to receive a scolding from Christopher, but was pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be Sam.

I threw myself at her, wrapping my arms around her in a hug. I couldn't tell if I was handsy due to the fact that I was happy to see her, or because I was a little tipsy.

"Daniel dragged me here," she said, annoyance in her voice.

Daniel was Sam's stepbrother. They were in the same grade, but completely different. Daniel loved to party and drink, and Sam did anything but. Despite their differences however, they were really close. While Sam hated the idea of her mom remarrying at first, their relationship brought her the brother that she always wanted.

Her eyes looked glazed over, seeming to not be focused on me completely. Judging from the way that she was swaying as well, I could tell that I wasn't the only one who underestimated the punch.

"Let's go dance," I yelled atop the music, motioning for her to follow me. When we finally reached the dance floor, it was absolute chaos. Bodies were everywhere, moving against one another, with a DJ at the center. Making our way through the crowd, we settled in a less crowded spot, swaying our hips to the music.

I was always dancing as a kid, so I was good at it, but I never had the courage to do it in front of people. With ballet, it was easy. There were certain rules to follow, and if you did, you would do good. But when dancing in settings like this, there weren't any guidelines. You just had to let go and feel the music, and that scared me.

I seriously began to curse the amount of alcohol that I consumed as the room started to spin more and more, until I felt light and free. My body felt like it was in a haze, going through the motions, but not truly processing what was going on.

"I'm going to go get another drink," I told Sam, stumbling my way off the dance floor, unable to even walk straight. On my way to the kitchen, I saw something catch my eye, which made me stop dead in my tracks.

A table.

Thinking that it would work well as a makeshift stage, I made my way over there. When I finally reached it, I planted my hands on top of it, trying, and failing, to pull myself up. After what felt like the hundredth time, I finally launched myself on top of the table, nearly falling off once I stood up.

After a few seconds of wobbling, I finally regained my balance somewhat, planting my feet on the table top. I began to dance, letting the beat run through my body and overtake me. I heard someone cheer me on, only fueling me as I danced harder to music.

More and more people began to cheer, as I became a spectacle.

I'm famous. I thought. I have fans!

The cheers slowly started to morph into the word strip, as the chant became louder and louder and louder.

"Strip! Strip! Strip! Strip!"

Well I can't let my fans down now. I sighed, being famous was such a burden.

I slowly lowered my strap off my shoulder, attempting to look somewhat sexy. I had never done it before, so the only reference that I had were from movies, which weren't very credible. I grabbed the bottom hemline of my dress, getting ready to take it off over my head. But before I could lift it, a strong pair of arms hooked around my legs and lifted me up, throwing me over their shoulder.

"Hey!" I yelled, pounding the unknown person in the back. "I still had the grand finale left you jerk!"

After protesting to no avail, I gave up, limp on this person's shoulder. I surveyed his body, noticing his tall build and muscular frame.

"You have a nice butt." I blurted out, not being able to hold it in. "Can I touch it?"

Without waiting for confirmation, I poked it, trying to see how hard it was.

"It's really firm," I said, angling my head to the side to get a better look. "I'd rate it a solid 8.5."

"Shut up." The voice yelled, cutting off my commentary.

"Fine," I grumbled, looking away. It wasn't until then did I realize that this person could literally be kidnapping me.

Play it cool, I reminded myself. Don't panic.

I scoured my head, trying to remember some karate moves from the class I took when I was six. I groaned in frustration, my head to foggy to remember anything. I settled on just kicking him where the sun doesn't shine and making a break for it. Before I could enact my plan, he set me down in a car.

I looked up at him, realizing that it was Christopher.

"Hey," I laughed nervously, "Just forget what I said about your butt."

He completely ignored me, his jaw clenched.

Wait, was he mad?