Living With The Player

CAMILLA RENÉE

TUESDAY.

FACULTY OF SCIENCE.

“Are you okay?”

Jimmy hums by my side in the middle of class.

“Peachy.”

I peep, twirling my pen between my fingers. I arrived a few minutes late and didn’t have the luxury of selecting seats in the back, but there was one free beside Jimmy, which I gladly seized. Now it’s just the both of us, then hundreds of other students around.

“Why? Do I look bad?”

“Not exactly. You’ve been fretting since you walked in. Either you hate being late or something happened.”

He jitters then opens an Excel spreadsheet.

“What are you doing?”

I arch a brow, peering over his project. He turns the screen away, but I get a tiny peak.

It’s our project.

“I’ve written barely five lines about you. How did you write so much about me!?”

I exclaim. There are at least two paragraphs written.

“I pay attention. With you, nothing else exists.”

“Maybe you should drop psychology and be a poet instead.”

I coo, pouting my lips.

“But seriously, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing. I’m just having a bad day.”

I shrug my shoulders, gobbling down my throat with everything around me fading slowly.

“Class will be over soon. We can go get ice cream?”

I grinned immediately.

“Jimmy Quint, you just might win me over after all.”

He smirks and we retreat to the class.

It’s just a bad day. Nothing much. I’ll head home after ice cream, then sleep it over.

I refuse to admit any thoughts about him or her.

“Don’t forget projects are due in by this Friday. If you haven’t rounded them up, I suggest you get to it.”

A sizeable amount of the class groans but I measly roll my eyes. I haven’t gotten through it either. Friday is two days away. Jimmy and I will need to meet tomorrow and the next.

Luckily, I don’t have too much of a tight schedule.

“Jokes on them. I have the most readable client. I’m almost done with the presentation.”

“Right. I’m an open book and you have all the answers to why I like or dislike things.”

He smirks again.

“Tell me one thing I like and the reason.”

“You like the colour black because it makes you look confident. There’s at least one black item on your body daily and most times, it makes up 70% of your outfit.”

I struggle to keep my features straightened. That was spot on. Very good, in fact.

“Look at you all figuring me out.”

I nudge his elbow.

“Details on how the presentation will be carried out have been sent to your registered student email. Check it out and ensure you’re familiar with the entire process. I’ll see you on Friday.”

Another round of grunts scattered, but Mr Tony chuckled and pulled his things before exiting the lecture hall.

“Ice cream?”

Jimmy mused beside me.

“Ice cream.”

I affirmed and grabbed my things, tucking them in my bag before getting up.

****

“Vanilla is your preferred flavour.”

“Okay. I’m thinking you just asked me here to profile me more, and how did you even know that?”

I glare intensely.

“You didn’t spend a second on the list. Your eyes went in search of that flavour.”

“Maybe I’m in the mood for it.”

I cross my arms, taking a seat on the chair Jimmy had pulled out.

“That could be it, but you also didn’t deny it when I commented so…”

I gasp, blinking my eyes in disbelief. Anyone could’ve guessed that.

“And to answer your other question; no I didn’t invite you here for the analysis. That’s merely a bonus. I just love spending time with you.”

My insides flutter at the genuine compliment.

The server reaches our table, placing a tray filled with a medium cup of ice cream for both of us.

Jimmy got strawberries with sprinkles. I just wanted plain vanilla.

“Heaven.”

I moaned, licking the ice cream off my lower lip. I noticed Jimmy’s eyes darting to mine, then easing to my lips.

“I’m thinking we should meet up tomorrow and maybe Thursday evening. Conclude the presentation. You could text the time?”

He nodded absentmindedly.

“Jimmy?”

“Yeah…”

He wiggles his head once.

“But maybe a coffee shop this time. I don’t think my place or yours will get any work done.”

“We got work done last time.”

I argued, cocking my head.

“Yeah and some.”

He countered, eyeing me with hungry eyes.

I suck on my spoon, moaning hungrily while Jimmy gapes in what seems like amusement.

“You had something to tell me?”

I momble, engrossed fully in my ice cream.

“I do. I’ll tell you on the way to the dorms. I’ll walk you.”

“You’re staying at Graham’s tonight?”

Fuck.

I lower my brows, recalling the other day. Neither of us spoke concerning it, but now that I brought up the topic-

“No. He has a few people over for the project he’s working on and for drinks.”

Jimmy’s tone dipped. I looked past his face, down to his knuckles, which had turned a shade of pink at the rate he was squeezing.

By people, that translates to Dylan.

Shock waves make their way to my skin, I jerk conspicuously and Jimmy eyes my movements.

“Almost done?”

The air on the table shifted. This time, I blame Dylan entirely. Stupid me for bringing him to at all.

“Yes. We should go.”

We pulled our tables at the same time and he waited for me to move ahead, then trailed behind me.

That was simple yet fun. Jimmy did everything well. Pulled the chair. Waited for me to walk ahead. The right compliments. He’s even funny.

“Having no con is a con.”

Inner me prompts, but I drag her down. Jimmy has some. I just haven’t seen them yet.

****

“Can I ask a question?”

I duck my head and look.

“Yes. Why not?”

We’re five minutes away from my dorms. Jimmy has been quiet throughout the walk. He’s never silent.

“Dylan. You. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“You answered too fast, Camilla.”

He sighs.

“Not everything is a profile, Jimmy.”

I struggle to say that with a straight face. I answered too fast.

“So there’s nothing at all?”

“Nothing.”

I affirm.

“Alright. I’ve been debating on whether to bring this up, but I don’t give a shit. I’m done waiting. We’ve gone on dates. Made out and some.”

He winks and I giggle, pushing my hair back.

“I’ve never been the guy who gets the girl. I’ve hesitated and sat back, but now I want to make the move first.”

He halts his movements, yanking both hands. We’re standing beside a few trees.

“Jimmy…”

My brain processes his words quickly. How did I not figure it out before?

Of course, he wants to ask me out. He said, “I need to ask you something.”

“Be Mine. No more back and forth. Undefined terms. I know what I want and it’s you. I don’t have to watch or wait. There’s no rethink once you’re involved. So Camilla, will you go out with me?”

He lets out all in one breath. This escalated fast.

I exhale twice, staring him down in disbelief. Considering all his words, I could only narrow down one-he’s certain.

Jimmy didn’t think twice before wanting me or asking me out. He hasn’t given me a red and green light all at once. It’s always been a good ahead.

I’ve thinned down all the pros and I’m adding one more to the list-He’s confident.

I don’t care about my past. I’m not bothered about what Dylan will make of this. Dylan was never certain about me. We lived under the same roof and I got mixed signals and skepticism.

But with Jimmy? It’s a clear shot. One I’m willing to take.

Whirling my right hand through the back of his head, I push my upper body to meet his height, pressing my lips against his softly.

“Yes.”

I whimper against his lips, circling my other hand to meet the first.

****

DYLAN EMERTON.

Luke is telling a story about how he banged a girl over a counter with her parents in the living room. The guys are enthralled and laughing harder by the minute.

I keep looking over my shoulder at him. I can’t ask Graham where he is, but I rather know he’s here than the other obvious option.

“Is there something going on between you and Jimmy?”

“How’d you figure?”

I quip and glance at Graham.

“You’ve been looking at the door. Twice every minute. Jimmy is the only one who could be here, so I figure you’re waiting for him…”

I chuckle.

“I’m not.”

That’s a lie.

“Alright then, but he texted back after I invited him for drinks with us. He’s staying at his dorm. He says he went out with Camilla. The same girl who’s our observer, right? It seems like they’re getting serious. He might even ask her out soon.”

Graham continues divulging more information about them.

Might? They aren’t dating yet? She didn’t deny it at the pizza place.

Did she want me to think they were together?

Hold the fuck-

I’m digging out my phone before my brain keeps up and reminds me this is a bad idea.

“I need to see you tomorrow.”

I text and exhale.

I tap my hand over my jeans impatiently.

“Why?”

Her reply comes through.

“Do I need a reason to?”

“Yes.”

She answers immediately.

“Our case project. You’re an observer.”

I fold my fist and wait for her answer.

“I can’t make it. I already have plans for my presentation. Maybe Friday or over the weekend.”

The dagger shoots straight into my chest. She has plans-with him. I just know it.

“Text me once you’re free.”

As much as I want to act petty now, mention the fuckers’ name, persist, act entitled along those lines. I can’t. I’ll settle for alcohol and try to forget all of this. For tonight.

Meanwhile, Camilla doesn’t text back. I toss my phone away and reach for a bottle of whiskey.

I can’t have it all after all.

****

Well. Things may have just gotten interesting. Had such a busy day, but daily updates!