The Player Game

Chapter 2

I keep to the edge of the walkway, carefully dialling Micky’s number as I make sure not to trip over my own feet.  Micky’s house is conveniently just a few streets away from mine, an easy walking distance.  The downside is that the streets where we live are always packed with people taking the shortcut into town, especially on the weekends.  It makes it almost impossible to speak on the phone at the same time.

“Hello?” his familiar voice answers.

I’m so surprised that he’s actually bothered to pick up his phone during a date that it takes me a few seconds to respond.  What is he doing?  Surely guys must know that talking to another person, a girl nonetheless, on the phone during a date, best friend or not, is absolutely out of bounds?

“Why did you pick up the phone?” I scold him, accidentally knocking shoulders with a man bustling past.

The man mutters incoherently, glaring as I put a hand up in apology.  Luckily the steady stream of people behind him force him to continue walking.

“Nice to talk to you too, Em.”  I can hear the smile beneath his sarcasm.  “Chill, I’m in the restrooms.”

I relax.  It’s nice to know that I’ve at least taught my friend some manners.  “You haven’t totally killed any chance of seeing this girl again, then?” I joke.

“Hopefully,” he replies.  “So, are we gonna make this quick or do you want me to sit on the toilet for the next hour?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.”  My words sound jumbled with haste as I try to remember my reason for calling.  “Your cousin was home.”  I try to make my tone of voice convey how annoyed I am.

His reply is so fast that I miss what he says.

“What?” I say dumbly.

“Never mind,” he sighs.  I’m sure that if we were face to face, he’d be rolling his eyes.  “Just tell me what happened.”

I start to explain.  “Well, since you abandoned me, and my mum disappeared, I was stuck with Aaron.  I had to make stupid conversation with him whilst scrolling through tumblr, which believe me, isn't as easy as it sounds.  He was being such an arrogant ass, it's not even funny - wait, hang on.  Shouldn't you be with Tatiana?”

“Oh, yeah.”  I can hear him unlocking the cubicle door.  “Maybe you should tell me later.”

“Sure,” I respond.  Unable to resist, I rush out an extra piece of advice, “Whatever you do, don’t spill anything on her.”

“I know, I know, and no ketchup in case I get it around my mouth.  Got it, Em.  Later, girl.”  With that, the line goes dead and I know he’s gone back to his date.

I chuckle, smiling as I switch my phone off.  He’s such a naïve person for a 'player'.  It’s obvious to me that his player days are over, not that he’ll admit it easily.  But I have my argument.  What type of Player goes on a date with the same girl three times?

Exactly.  None of them.

I know that in the past, many people have thought- even said to our faces- that they think that we’ll end up together.  They don’t understand the commitment of best friends for life.  When you grow up with a guy as a best friend, even the mere thought of him as anything other than a friend is bizarre. It’s something that isn’t just unlikely, but impossible for us.

Pushing open my gate, I’m relieved to see that my mum’s Nissan is parked in the driveway just as she promised.  I walk up the small pathway, pulling a large leaf from the hedge that separates the garden and path from the driveway.  Childishly, I rip the leaf apart, flicking the little pieces into the air and watching them litter the ground.  It’s a hobby that will never get boring.