Living With The Player

DYLAN EMERTON.

MONTHS EARLIER.

EMERTON MANSION.

“Morning.”

I grumble, gliding into an empty chair.

“Good morning, son.”

Dad peeps along with mother and Claire, who gawk hard at me.

I gape at my food instead, having the appetite of an ape courtesy of the alcohol I had last night.

I dozed off in that spot, got up in the middle of the night, and crawled my way to an actual bed.

Arose with a heavy hangover. The only reason I’m putting food in my stomach is full-on body weakness.

“Dylan?”

Claire hissed across from the table. My mother and father left moments ago to get set for work. It’s just me and her now.

“What!?”

I snarled, slipping on some ketchup on my fries.

“You look like shit.”

I snorted under my breath, lifting my head to glare, which only made her chuckle further.

“I’m glad to amuse you, dear cousin.”

I whirled my eyes, dipping my head away from hers and back to my food.

“Don’t you think it’s the day to call coach yet?”

“I thought you’re betting Prada jackets that I won’t do it.”

I arched a brow tentatively.

“Oh, I am. I’m just searching for ways to annoy my favourite cousin.”

“I’m your only cousin, well, aside from Blake.”

I gritted my teeth, fisting multiple fries in my hand.

“Exactly!”

She squealed. I shut my eyes and ignored her.

I’ll ignore her all day.

“So, when are you making the call?”

She added. Ignore.

“Today? Tomorrow? Sent a text? An email? Or you’ll go there yourself. I’m sure Kingston High would gladly let their star soccer player in, especially when he tells them he’s taking the legacy forward. You only have a tiny window before the coach’s influence can’t do much. Better make that call.”

She pauses, gnawing on her fries too loudly.

“Could you drop it?”

“Nope.”

She popped her lips against the other end, then titter.

“I’m rethinking having you around. I may just leave the house and return when you go to college.”

“You’re planning on staying in this house even while I’m even college? Dylan.”

She gasps, clamping her chest with one hand, then batting those annoyingly long lashes. I grunt and turn away.

“I won’t let you ruin your future. Not while I’m here.”

Hair flip. Terrific.

“Alright then. Have a good day Claire.”

I grabbed my plates and left the table.

“You can’t hide for me, Dylan Emerton!”

She screeched.

“I can certainly try.”

I whisper low, leaving the dishes in the washer.

****

“Sup cuz.”

“What are you doing in my room?”

Glaring, I took off my earbuds, leaving them on the bed.

“I’m bored. This house used to be more fun than it is now. You used to be more fun. I wish cousin Blake was here.”

“He’s not.”

I answered icily. Blake got into winter sessions in some college, plans to transfer to a university after completing a few credits. His life isn’t shitty anymore. I took his place.

“Calm down. You’re my favourite. Although you’re turning into a grumpy ass hole as of recent.”

“Grow up Claire. You’re twenty. Life isn’t all sweet and soft.”

“Oh, I know.”

She retorts simply.

“So tell me about Camilla.”

She demands, plopping beside me on the bed.

“No.”

“So rude of you Dylan.”

She fakes another gasp.

“Aren’t you tired of this banter?”

“Nope. I told you I’m bored, so unless you find something for me to do, all I have is annoy you. That rhymes!”

She giggles, clapping her palms together. Fuck my life.

“Go run into a bus.”

“That’ll be painful, not fun. Don’t be silly.”

She nudges my elbow, falling back to the bed with a sigh.

“I’m sorry. I have no more options for you.”

Rolling my eyes, I picked up my phone and unlocked the screen.

“Finally making that call?”

“For the last time, no. Leave me alone!”

“Annoyed are we?”

She countered, a smirk playing dutifully on her lips.

This used to be me months ago. Annoying. Cocky. Charming even. Now I prefer staying indoors and being grumpy.

What happened to me?

“Did I prick too hard? Struck a nerve?”

I sighed.

“I’m not calling coach.”

I murmur.

“I know.”

She whispers back.

“I love soccer, as a sport. It’s not something I’d like to do every day for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Okay.”

She chortles, lifting both arms in surrender.

“It’s for fun. I will not get drafted of whatever. Go into a team or be a captain. That’s not what I want in life.”

“So, what do you want?”

She queries. There’s no sarcasm or taunt. Genuine curiosity.

“I’m going into the university to be a doctor. Why? When my mother was sick, I felt dead inside. I wanted to help her, but I couldn’t. When my friend Kira came down with a cold during one of our slumber parties, it tortured me all night because I didn’t know what to do. That’s how I feel anything someone is sick or down, so it’s what I want to do. Help people. Regardless of what the problem is.”

I nodded softly.

“You. What do you want to do? What gives you so much joy and satisfaction that you might burst inside? What feels so natural and makes you complete as though they made you for it?”

My mind returns to Camilla. Not just her. The times I watched her. The moments I could predict what she would do next since I already figured that out. And then, I recalled the court case.

I reminisced, figuring out the call history, the alcohol, everything that led to proving her innocence. That’s when it clicked. The thing I love doing is figuring things out.

Mysteries. Being able to predict the outcome. It all began with her.

“Dylan?”

Claire calls out, grabbing my arm. I jerked away and turned towards her.

“Are applications for Cal-U’s fall semester still open?”

Slowly, she smiled before full-on grinning.

“Oh cousin, I thought you would never ask.”

****

MONTHS EARLIER.

“So? Did you get in? Tell me? How was the interview?”

Claire blasted too many questions at once.

I chuckled and pulled a chair.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

“What’s funny? I’ve been waiting all day for the news. You said an email came in. I assume it’s the admission decision. So, did you get in?”

Joining both hands, she shut her eyes in anticipation. I consider teasing, but I’m too excited for myself to bother.

“Yes, I got in. Obviously. They’ll be dumb not to let me in.”

I add an eye roll and Claire leaps before embracing me. Too tight, might I add?

“Yes! Oh my God, I was worried you wouldn’t. You applied a few weeks before the deadline. Thank fuck.”

She squeals.

Thank fuck? I’ll let that slide.

“Well, I did.”

I moved from a chair to the sofa, facing the ceiling quietly.

“Phase one of my plans is complete.”

“Phase one?”

“Yes, birdbrain.”

She answers, pulling a glass of water.

“Phase one was getting me into the university?”

“Yes. CAL-U specifically.”

I exhale, and she gulps the liquid.

“And what exactly is phase two?”

I momble, knowing her next sentence will knock a breath or two out of me.

“Dear cousin, phase two is fixing your screw up with Camilla.”

I flinched.

“Do I even want to know what phase three might be?”

“No, dear cousin. No, you do not. Just go with the flow. I only have your best interest at heart. With a little fun along the line.”

She winks, then strides upstairs, leaving me with my thoughts and expectations.

A few more months till I see her again.

I’ll be a liar by saying it hasn’t given me goosebumps or sleepless nights.

But as Claire always says, it’s the thrill that makes everything so goddamn interesting. I know I’m on the verge of losing it when I quote Claire Mitchell. I know I’m on the verge of losing it when it’s been too long without her.

****

I’ll be an alternating between POVs, not so much to get everyone confused but to have a better understanding of each character’s thoughts. Enjoy!