Playing The Player

:Chapter Thirty-Two:

I laid down, loving the feel of grass brushing into my hair. The soft wind that greeted me almost made me believe that everything was perfect, but... it wasn't.

Why was everything so complicated? I wanted to be with Blake, but I didn't know how to tell him. I knew that he meant what he said, after all why would he lie? But there was still a part of me, a tiny little corner that insisted that it was still all just a game, and this was the finale. My answer, either yes or no, would give the final verdict on who was the winner, and who was the, well, loser.

The thing was, I was a loser. I might be Nina's sister, and Blake might have an interest in me, but that didn't stop the ugly feelings that was part of my baggage. I had history with an abusive boyfriend, I only had a few friends, and I studied for hours every night just to impress the parents who never bothered to come home.

I was like, the epitome of baggage.

Of course, he tried to talk to me, but it wasn't easy to look him in the eye and throat out an easy line anymore. I couldn't keep eye contact with anyone, and while I knew I wanted to talk to him, it was next to impossible to do so.

"I heard Blake told you he liked you."

The malicious tone made me open my eyes immediately, and the face that was sadistically looking down at me made me sit up immediately. Though I hadn't talked to him since the time Blake completely bashed him up in the parking lot, I couldn't shake off the feeling that he hadn't forgotten what had happened.

Dylan.

"Okay," I said cautiously, not wanting him to get angry. Though by the looks of it, he was already pretty pissed.

Dylan sat down next to me, a friendly smile on his face - but I knew that behind the smile was a lot of boiled up anger and resentment. "I also heard that you rejected him. Is that true, Gracie?" His smile lifted even more when he said the name he'd given me when we were going out. He trailed a finger up and down my bare arm.

"You've heard a lot of things," I said, acting nonchalant and trying not to flinch when he touched me.

He continued to run his finger up and down my arm. "I also heard that you're not talking to him."

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, confused.

Dylan looked up at me, his dark eyes showing nothing. "It means he won't come looking for you when we start to have fun."

I jerked my arm away. "Piss off, Dylan," I retorted angrily, "It's not funny anymore."

It was like he hadn't even heard me. "I mean, you could scream, but I doubt anyone would hear you. You picked a funny place to sit. The courtyard. The furthest place from the main buildings. And we still have around ten minutes till the bell... not that it matters, since no one comes here during lunch anyways."

With a sinking feeling, I realised he was right. It was why Courtney and I sat here in the first place; there were no people to distract us from our conversation or to yell out offensive comments. Whatever we said definitely wouldn't reach the ears of other people, and he was right: Because it was so isolated, students didn't come here. Unlike Courtney and I, they liked to sit where they could watch people and where people could watch them.

"Courtney knows I'm here," I blurted out without thinking, "She'll be here soon."

"I'm in her biology class," Dylan mused, "And I somehow managed to change her last exam results to... well, you don't need to know all the details, just that she won't be here for lunch. At all."

I grabbed my bag and tried to stood up, but he gripped my wrist so tightly it hurt. "Let me go!"

"Not until we've had a little fun," Dylan said harshly, pulling me down so I fell on his lap, "I know you want to, Gracie. Even if you do like Carter, which I really doubt you do, I know you still love me." He stroked my hair.

I started to struggle. "I don't love you, I don't even fucking like you," I shouted, panicking.

"You're lying," He hissed, "And you've said some bad things." Without warning, he removed his hand from my hair and landed on my cheek with a sharp smack. Tears immediately sprang to my eyes, but I forced them back. I wouldn't let him see me cry. Not anymore. I forced myself not to cradle my face, even though it was stinging and I just knew that it was a bright pink. He had probably left a hand mark as well.

"Sit still, you little whore," He hissed as he restrained me forcibly. His hand crept its' way up my thigh, and I repressed shudder after shudder, until -

Punch.

Punch.

Punch.

"I warned you before," Blake said in a low voice. Punch. Punch. Punch. "That if you ever touched, looked, or talked to her, then I would make sure you'd regret." He paused.

"I wasn't lying," He said simply, before indulging him in punches again. The way Blake had gone at him in the car park was nothing compared to this. I felt almost sick just from looking and it, and I knew I had to stop it.

"Blake - ," I said weakly, "I'm fine. Let's just go."

I let Blake have a few more minutes of fun before I really stopped him, grasping him from his biceps and pulling him away. I looked at him, really properly this time, and saw no bruises or blood anywhere. This guy was good.

Blake stared down at me, not talking.

I gulped. "I think we need to talk."

***********************************************************************************

Hey you, yes you with the face, you're fucking AMAZING. :)