How To Play the Player (COMPLETED)

Peace, Pray, Love

I braced myself for a blow as soon as the door knob turned and clicked. Whether it was my mother and her cloud of exhaustion stepping through the front door or my father with his self-righteous attitude, I would have to conversate, and at this moment I had no desire to with either of them. I loved Mom, but the little time I did see her or spend time with her, she was always dozing off and looking so beyond exhausted that I felt guilty.

I swallowed every word I had thought to try and muster up to greet my mother when my father walked in. He still kept his appearances up; he was in a navy blue suit, his blonde hair slicked back in a perfect comb over, blue eyes immediately finding me on the couch. He set his briefcase on the kitchen table, eyes still on me as he shrugged out of his suit and hug the jacket on the coat rack to the left of the front door, just under the mantle.

"Hey, sweetheart." He tried at a smile but it faltered seconds later. "How was school?"

I battled the urge to snicker and shrugged a shoulder instead. "It's been fine."

"I'm sorry. For all the arguing and—"

"I don't understand why you don't just get a divorce, Dad." I closed the playbook on my lap and rose to my feet. "It'd be what's best for everyone."

His hardened blue eyes softened a little. "Sweetheart, we'll get through this. Just like we got through everything else."

"Hate to break it to you, Dad, but not all of us sit here and try and act like it never happened." I snapped, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "Like you didn't have another daughter. Like you didn't go and cheat on Mom while she was grieving over her dead daughter. My dead sister."

He looked as if he were ready to blow a blood vessel with how tight his jaw was clenched and how rapidly his eye was twitching, he even raised a hand as if he wanted to slap the sarcasm right out of me. He composed himself a second later, turning his back to me before whispering, "Go to your room and don't come out until you're ready to apologize."

*

Unable to sleep as per usual, I alternated between writing up the new plays in the Playbook and reading. Around three, in the midst of an intense climatic scene in my book, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Bookmarking the page, I set it on the bed beside me and grabbed my phone, eyebrows shooting up when I saw the contact I definitely hadn't put in.

Sexy Scott: You up?

It was so immature, so childish, I couldn't help but laugh.

No.

I felt my smile fall the second a loud slamming sounded from down the hall, my mother's yelling following it. I rolled over on to my side, squeezing my eyes shut to contain my tears when I saw the next text from Liam.

Sexy Scott; Look outside

I frowned, sliding into my fluffy pink slippers and heading for my bedroom door. I opened it as quietly as possibly, keeping my footsteps light in an attempt to keep from giving my parents any indication I was awake. As soon as I walked into the living room my eyes went to the curled up ball that was my mother on the couch, still in her scrubs. Dad hadn't even given her the opportunity to change before he started with his bullshit. I grabbed a clean blanket from the closet beside the washer and dryer, throwing it over my mother. She stirred for a moment, but if she was awake didn't want me to know because she tightened her grip around the blanket and buried her face against the lumpy old pillow under her head.