Playing The Player

:Chapter Five:

"The first thing you need to know about Nina," I said, "Is that she loves presents with a capital L."

Blake and I were sprawled across my room, where I was teaching him the course Nina 101.

Yes, I had given this a name.

Blake was comfortably lying across the huge mat I had in my room, looking incredibly cute in his black jeans and the blue hoodie that matched his eyes. The grey beanie had mussed up his shaggy brown hair, and immediately after he had taken it off, I had the biggest urge to run my hands through it, just to see if it felt as soft as it looked. I had given him a notebook and a pen to take notes with, not wanting him to forget anything.

After all, what would be the point of me teaching him?

I, on the other hand, was sitting on the desk chair, where I had a clipboard full of information about Nina that I had typed up beforehand. The things written there ranged from 'She hates it when you talk about yourself too much' to 'Nina does not like driving.'

It was a Saturday, which meant that she was with her friends on a shopping spree; she had informed me that morning that they went shopping weekly, not wanting to wear the same thing twice. "After all," She had said, "That would just be so last week!" Then she had laughed like crazy at her little joke afterwards.

It had been three days since Blake had asked me to help him get Nina to fall in love with him. I had realised that it was completely stupid to like him. I mean, he was Blake Carter. Everything about him screamed 'BAD REPUTATION.' He might as well have a neon sign on his forehead stating it. As I said, it was stupid. Stupid that I had ever considered liking him. Stupid that I had thought he might like me. Stupid that I had agreed to Nina 101.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Right," Blake noted, scribbling in his notebook, "Presents are good."

I nodded, pleased with the progress we were making. "She prefers flowers and chocolates over jewellery. This is because when you give her jewellery, other people might think that she bought it herself. But if you buy her like, flowers or chocolates, everyone will know there's someone that likes her. I mean, every one already knows that, but she likes attention."

"Yeah," Blake said, scrawling once again in his notebook.


I watched him scribble in his notebook, his big hand cradling the pen I had given him. He was so... nice.

"So let me see what you wrote so far," I said, quickly banishing the thoughts of him. I held out my hand.

He looked up, looking slightly... guilty? "I haven't really written much," He said, holding the notebook behind his back. He was obviously hiding something.

"Blake, give me the notebook."

"You forgot the magic word!" He teased.

"Please," I said, exasperated, "Please will you show me the notebook?"

"Aw," Blake cooed, scrunching his face into an adorable puppy face, "She said please."

I stood up, carefully putting the clipboard on my table. "Blake. What are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything!" He said defensively.

"Then show me your book."

"No."

"Blake."

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Hand me the book."