Every Teen Romance Ever

Playing the Player (2/3) - Mature

Mikayla's POV

I tried to reason with her, but Ms. Butcher was a stubborn shipper. I was officially stuck doing our unrealistically long psych project with Blake as my partner.

"Even though we're gonna be working on this project in class for the rest of the story, let's meet up at my house," Blake proposed. I cared about my grades, so I agreed.

*****

I parked in the driveway of Blake's house, trying to maintain composure even though his house was my architectural fantasy. The brick mansion was three stories high with a gorgeous fenced-in landscape, garden, pool, and its own basketball and tennis courts.

I rang the doorbell, expecting his mom or something to answer, but Blake was at the door. He raised an eyebrow when he saw me dressed in a pleated plaid skirt, a button-up, and knee-high socks. I called my look "Wannabe Private School Student".

We sat down at his dining table. When I immediately began opening my backpack, he shook his head. "You're actually gonna make us work?"

"Yes," I said stubbornly. He frowned, but eventually got his laptop and started typing whatever I told him. Within a half hour, we had made a ton of progress.

Blake scooted his chair closer to me to stare at the computer screen. I noticed his caramel eyes flutter downwards like a depressed butterfly as he looked at my legs. They were more exposed now that my skirt had ridden up my thigh a bit. I gulped and stared back at the screen, the words a blur before my eyes as I felt his hand slowly reach for my thigh. He pressed his thumb to my skin, and it went ablaze. Even though I was supposedly independent and intelligent, I was helpless under Blake's hypnotic touch. He skimmed his fingers up and down my thigh, pushing up my skirt slightly higher each time -

"Honey, I'm home!" A woman who was obviously Blake's mom called as she opened the door. Blake moved his hand immediately, and I breathed heavily, stunned that I had momentarily become a hoe.

"I've gotta go," I said without looking at him, pulling my skirt back down as I stood up and put my stuff away back in my backpack.

"Okay," Blake replied, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck with one hand. Blake's mom walked in to the dining room, eyes widening when she saw me. She was really pretty, with the same blonde hair as Blake.

"Why hello! Are you Blake's girlfriend? It's so nice to finally-"

"No-" I started to reply at the same time Blake said "Yes." I shut my mouth, confused by his lie.

Blake's mom squealed. "You're so pretty! What's your name?"

"I'm Mikayla," I replied, blushing.

"My eighteen-year-old son is such a baby and never tells me anything," She chided Blake, who looked like he was about to die. "You two have fun!"

When she left, Blake turned to me. "She knows I had a girlfriend, she just didn't know it was Chelsey or that I broke up with her," He explained. "She hates when I'm single."

"I won't say a thing, baby," I teased as I wrote my number down on a piece of paper. Blake glared at me, but my sixth sense just knew he was trying not to smile. "Bye!"

*****

FROM: Blake
My mom is asking if u want to come over for dinner Sat.

I smiled at the text. I loved being a fake girlfriend.

TO: Blake
Sure! what time?

FROM: Blake
5:30

5:30 seemed pretty early to eat dinner, but I agreed. The next few school days went well, with Blake actually helping me with the project in class. Even though Kandie and Zendaya knew he was no good, I couldn't help but be drawn to the fuckboy, with his good looks and average intelligence and...did I mention his good looks?