Playing The player

Chapter 14

It was like déjà vu; I was reliving the cafeteria scene, the awful lunch where I had gotten a drink spilled on me and pushed Jenna over so she broke her ankle. I only hoped nothing bad would come out of this awkward scene. I munched on the pizza, but I could barely taste the pineapples and pepperoni as I tried not to choke at the sight of Whitney practically shoving her boobs in Colt's face and the little knowing smirk that Liam wore.


  I wondered if cute, definitely hot smirks were something delinquents were trained to perfect. I mean, Blake, Colt and Liam all knew how to do it perfectly, while when I tried it, it was like… No.


  "If it makes you feel better, he doesn't want her," Liam said to me in a low voice so neither Colt nor Whitney could hear us.


  I looked up from my pizza. "What?"


  Liam smirked again - what was up with that?! "Colt doesn't like Whitney. Nor does Blake, just so you know. We've all been with her, she's nothing interesting."


  We've all been with her… I suddenly got the real meaning of that, and I made a face immediately. "Gross. That's too much information."


  Liam laughed, resting his arms behind his head as he relaxed; apparently my response was funny.


  What really was funny, however, was the fact that all three of them, Blake, Colt and Liam, the three people that practically everyone at school seemed to be afraid of were actually really nice. They were definitely not what I had thought they were. Truthfully, I had thought they were idiots who got mixed up in drugs, sex and alcohol just for the fun of it. I thought they would be incredibly stupid, not be able to string a sentence together, act like they were better than everyone else, and not care about anyone else.


  But I was wrong, and yes, I, Hayleigh Grace, Teacher's Pet, known to never get a mark under 97%, yes, I had to admit that I was wrong. Appearances weren't everything, and the only thing that I had gotten right was that they were massive players. No, that hadn't changed.


  I took a sip of my drink just as I started to tune in to the conversation, wanting to make an effort. I mean, I was here, right?


  "… After the boob job Daddy says I'll be able to pleasure men like, ten times better," Whitney was saying.


  I spat my drink out all over Whitney.


  I spat my drink out all over Whitney.


  I spat my drink out all over Whitney!


  Before I had a chance to say anything, Whitney screamed. And no, it wasn't a small yelp of surprise, it was one of those freakin' screams that you let out when a murderer burst into your house in the middle of the night or something. It was one of those screams little children let out when they didn't know where their mother was. It was one  of those screams that you only let out in a case of a real emergency.


  Well according to Whitney, getting a few drops of Sprite on your hair counted as an emergency.


  "Ohmigod! My hair! You bitch!" Whitney screeched at me.


  I backed up. "Whoa - I'm sorry."


  Apparently my apology wasn't heartfelt or good enough, because the next thing I knew, Whitney was picking up her cup of Diet Coke and throwing it over me. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I had gotten a drink spilled on me for the second time in a week. In the split second I had before the drink was flung on me, I wondered when my life had gotten so complicated. I definitely hadn't gotten this much attention at my last school - far from it, in fact. But now I happened to be talking to people like Blake and getting low or no fat drinks flung onto me like I was Rachel Berry from Glee or something.


  But then my split second was up and my face, hair and the tank top I was wearing was completely drenched in soft drink. I blinked a few times before opening my eyes, wincing when drops of Diet Coke shook from my bangs into my eye.


  The experience was utterly mortifying.


  I can't even begin to explain how embarrassing it was, having a drink chucked at your face in front of the Popular people. I didn't care what they thought of me, really, because it wasn't like Colt and Liam were a major part of my life, but the shrilly laughter that Whitney provided as background music wasn't something I wanted to hear ever again. I took the napkin Liam handed me and wiped my face with it.


  "God, that was - " Whitney started to giggle again, unable to complete her sentence, "Fucking hilarious!"


  "Hilarious?" I asked, my teeth clenched as Colt and Liam started to grab all the napkins around them and handed them over to me, not saying anything, "That's a big word for you, Whitney." I dabbed at my shirt before continuing. "Considering I thought all your brain cells had been screwed out of you."


  Okay, I know. It would've sounded more effective had I said the 'f-word.' But really, swearing wasn't my thing, and saying screwing instead didn't seem to take away any of the comeback's credit; Colt and Liam were laughing like there was no tomorrow, and I mentally patted myself on the back for coming up with something that fast.


  Whitney glared at me. "Whatever, slut."


  "Wow, really witty comeback," I said sarcastically, "But this is coming from you, so it doesn’t have the desired effect. Oh sorry, is desired too big a word for you?" I didn't give her a chance to retort with another one of her amazingly witty comebacks, sighing as I stood up, wiping my face again. "I'm going home."


  Colt and Liam both jumped up, to my surprise. "I'll drive you," Colt offered.


  "No, I will," Liam looked warningly at Colt before tilting his head to Whitney, "You can deal with her."


  The tone of his voice suggested that they didn't like her very much, which made me smile. I mean, obviously it was sort of mean, but it was nice to know that I wasn't the only one. I stood up, forcing myself not to laugh at Colt's pouty expression. He obviously didn't want to stay with her; I couldn't imagine anyone who did.


  Once we were safely outside the bowling alley, I raised my head to meet Liam's eyes because he was damn tall, and smiled at him.


"Thanks for taking me home. I'm really sorry about ruining your night." I grimaced; why did I have to ruin everything? People really should learn that it's just a lot easier without me.


  "You didn't ruin my night, trust me," Liam assured, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "It was ruined when I found out Whitney was coming along."


  I couldn't stop the smile that came to my face. "You really don't like her then?"


  He laughed, unlocking his car door and opening the passenger seat for me. I climbed gratefully into the car; it was nice of him to open the door for me. I waited until he was in the car, starting the ignition before sending him a look to continue, and he shrugged. "She's more trouble than she's worth. A lot more."


  I nodded, trying to seem wise even though I had no idea just how much she was, not that I was willing to press further to find out. I settled against his seat, before remembering what I was covered in.


  "Oh, damn!" I gasped, shooting forwards immediately. "I'm covered in Diet Coke. Rats, I'm so sorry. I'm going to get your seat sticky."


  To my surprise, Liam stared laughing. He mockingly wiped a tear from his face. "Oh, you're so cute. No wonder Blake follows you around like a lost puppy. Rats!" He imitated, still laughing. "Seriously? Rats?"


  I glared playfully at him. "Shush, I don't like swearing. And you never did tell me what Blake said about me," I reminded him.


  His laughing slowly subsided, and he shot me a knowing look. "Why are you so curious? Do you like him or something?"


  "What?" I spluttered, "No! That's crazy. I'm just, you know. Like you said, curious."


  Liam winked at me. "Is that all, young grasshopper?"


  I groaned, and threw my hands in the air dramatically. "Yes! Yes, it is. And what's with you calling me a young grasshopper?"


  "I don't know," Liam mused. "What's with you saying rats instead of shit, and saying screwed instead of fucked?"


  I wrinkled my nose; so he had noticed the replacement of words when I was insulting Whitney. "I honestly don't know," I sighed, "I just prefer not swearing. It makes me feel, I don't know, unladylike." Angry tears threatened to make an appearance as I thought of the real reason, and I forced myself to think happy things to hold them back. The last thing I needed was for Liam to feel sorry for me. I wasn't a charity case and I didn't intend to be seen like one, ever.


  "Alright, madam," Liam teased.


  The rest of the ride was mainly just him teasing me; he was easy to be around with, just like Colt and Blake. Natural. There were no unnecessary, hidden-behind-compliments insults, it was all just fun. I found myself being disappointed when he stopped the car in front of my house.


  "How did you know where I live?" I wondered out loud. "Wait, don't tell me - "


  "Nina," Liam grinned.


  I sighed; it seemed like everyone and everything revolved around her, which it probably did. "Well, I should go now. I'm meant to be meeting Blake soon." I checked my phone; it was almost eight.


  Liam pretended to gasp. "Blake? And you said you didn't like him!"


  I flushed. "I don't! We're meeting because… well, I don't really want to tell you that," I added as an afterthought. I stuck my tongue out at him when he dramatically held a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. "Thanks for the ride Liam, it was nice of you."


  He waved it away. "Just keep your clothes on." His tone was serious but there was a grin playing on his face, and I playfully slapped him before opening the car door and running up the porch steps, apprehensive as ever about meeting Blake.