The Player novel Chapter 9

Brielle

7:04 AM

I placed both of my hands on Scott's chest, trying to push him away from Christopher, but to no avail. The two stared at each other, their jaws tight, waiting for the other to make the first move. Before that could happen, I butted in.

"Please, don't do this. I've had a bad enough day as it is," I pleaded to Scott, my eyes round. He grew hesitant as his glare softened, not knowing whether to listen to me or not. I assumed he chose the latter when he averted my eyes, locking onto Christopher's once more.

I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me. "Please, just be my brother and listen to me." I let my eyes be vulnerable, and express all of the hurt that I had experienced today already.

"Please," I whispered.

He gave me a small nod before turning towards Christopher, his finger now pointed at his chest.

"If you ever get near my sister again, by the time I'm through with you, you're going to wish you were dead." I figured that then wasn't the right time to tell him about me and Christopher's joint punishment.

He wrapped his arm around me, comforting me, while we left the principal's office. Once we were a good distance away, I stopped, turning towards him.

"Why do you and Christopher hate each other?" I questioned. This question had been bugging me ever since the incident in my driveway. "Shouldn't you guys be friends since you're both on the football team?"

His face grew pale, his eyes quickly flashing an emotion that I couldn't quite decipher.

"Drop it." He clipped, turning away from me. I would usually just let it go, but whatever happened was important enough for him to punch Christopher in the face. And whether I liked Christopher or not, between practicing for the showcase and scraping the gum off the bleachers, I was going to be spending a lot of time with him.

"No," I demanded, moving in front of him. "You always shut me out, but not with this. Not when whatever is going on between you two affects me. I deserve to know." I crossed my arms, standing my ground.

"I said," he spat out, his voice basically dripping with venom, "Drop it." He stormed down the hallway, leaving me standing there alone.

"Fine." I mumbled under my breath, turning around and heading for my second period class. His suddenly moodiness was only the cherry on top of an already bad day.

I huffed. If all of Junior year was going to be like this, then it was going to be one rocky ride.

*****

"Can you pass the spray?"

Christopher and I were currently scraping the gum out from under the bleachers. I nearly gagged when I saw how much ground there was to cover. I didn't think that the punishment could get any worse, but after I took one look under the seats, I was proven wrong. All the metal underneath was hidden, covered by a layer of multi-colored gum.

I took the spray from by my feet and threw it at Christopher. It was immature of me, but considering that he was nearly a foot taller than me, it was the best I could do to let out my frustration.

"Are you seriously mad at me?" he questioned, picking up the bottle and spraying the hardened gum.

My head whipped in his direction, shocked that he would actually have the nerve to ask me that.

"Yes Christopher," I fumed. "I am mad at you. Anyone would be after all the crap that you put me through." I began scraping more viciously, imagining the dried paste as Christopher's face.

He stopped scraping, now turning his attention towards me. "But you poured water on me, so now we're even."

Are you kidding me?

"My parents are dead."

I froze where I was, my blood running cold.

"My oldest sister Bianca took custody of me and Nicole when she was 18, then moved across the country for college, leaving us here alone." He sucked in a sharp breath of air, the story hard for him to say. He fiddled with his hands, trying to distract himself.

"Tomorrow is the second anniversary of their death, and I-I..." he stuttered, not able to find the right way to describe it.

"I guess I always act out when it comes near." He looked up at the sky before focusing on his hands again. "I'm sorry that I dragged you into it."

My heart sank for him. In that moment he looked so vulnerable. He reminded me of the boy on the beach I saw in the picture on his desk. It wasn't until then that I realized what a large part of him was changed by what had happened.

"I just know that if they saw what I was like right now they would be so disappointed in me." His voice cracked on the last word, causing something inside me to break.

"I'm so sorry," I reached for his hand, but he quickly pulled them back, his eyes hardening.

"I don't need your pity. This whole time you have been judging me and my life without knowing anything about me." He picked back up his scraper, becoming guarded once more. "Don't think that just because I told you about my parents that what you said is erased."

We worked in silence for the rest of the time, both of us in our thoughts. I was ashamed of how I had misjudged him. Every time that I called him a spoiled rich kid, it was just another reminder of what had happened to his parents. I couldn't help but wonder if his arrogance was just a cover to hide how he really felt.

Even though he said those horrible things about me, I couldn't help but forgive him a little. I couldn't understand in the slightest what he must be going through. Although his methods of coping weren't the best, I couldn't stand to hold it against him.

After an hour of work, we got up, figuring that we could do the rest tomorrow. I turned towards him, brushing my hair behind my ear. But before I could get a word out, he walked towards his car, leaving me alone.