Playing His Game

Chapter Eleven | Time Waits for No One

Eleven:

"So, do you work out a lot, or are you just naturally buff?"

The strong urge to slam my face onto my desk almost overcame me as this giggly girl asked Trent yet another stupid question about himself.

The last ten minutes had featured, "Do you spend a lot of time in the sun? You're soo tan!" And, "Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?" Needless to say, I was counting down the time until the bell rang and US Government was over.

Since Mr. Moss didn't particularly care about enforcing the seating chart he made, Trent took it upon himself to now sit by me every day, which meant I was forced to endure his never ending flirtation with the various girls in our class.

And currently Britney, (or was it Brandee?), Was on the receiving end of his flirting.

"Well, I do get my exercise in...but not from running, or lifting weights." Trent delivered this line with a smirk, but whereas I could tell he was holding back a snort of laughter at his own cheesy line, the girl obviously thought he was serious. I cringed when she let out yet another screeching laugh.

I inhaled in irritation and was assaulted with the strong smell of perfume, hers undoubtedly. Trying to tune them out, I studied the posters hung up around the room with extreme detail. There were huge cutouts of all the famous US presidents, a big American flag, and even a laminated copy of the damn declaration of independence.

Looking around the rest of the classroom, I saw multiple girls staring shamelessly at Trent with either curiosity or longing. Most of the other students were staring glassily at the projector screen or trying to sneakily text under their desks.

My eyes unwillingly found their way back to the annoying girl, who was fiddling with the belt loops of her jeans with one hand and touching Trent's arm with the other.

"Bridgette, please have a seat in an unoccupied desk." Mr. Moss solved my earlier name dilemma for me while simultaneously putting an end to the girl's giggling.

Rising up dramatically from where she was perched on Trent's desk, Bridgette flipped her short, brown hair over her shoulder and walked away, defeated.

I suppressed a groan as, almost instantly, Trent turned in his seat and faced me.

"You know, partner, our project's due Friday." He stated slowly, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah, I know." I muttered. That meant we had only four more days to finish it, and working together after school was inevitable.

He slid even closer, so he was on the edge of his chair and we were within touching distance.

"But we can't work on it today," He whispered, leaning so close his nose almost brushed mine, "Because, I'm pretty sure Bridgette's coming home with me after school, if you know what I mean." He jerked his thumb at the girl a few desks away, who glowered at me when we made eye-contact.

Looking back at Trent, I cringed and leaned further away from him. "You're disgusting."

He shrugged, seeming unfazed by my glare. "At least I'm actually getting laid."

I bristled. "Maybe I am too, you don't even know me." I wasn't ready to admit to my virgin status.

Suddenly his eyes darkened and the smug tone was replaced with something darker. "And who would that be with, Audrey? That Allen guy?"

"His name is Austin," I said, holding back a laugh.

"I don't give a fuck," he deadpanned.

After covering up my uncontrollable giggle with a cough, I twisted a strand of hair around my finger and tried not to stare too long at his lips, that were turned down in a frown.