The Player's Weakness | ongoing

TPW// chapter thirteen

THIS TIME, I DIDN'T WAKE UP because of whistling winds or a snoring dog or a hung over friend pushing me out. No, that would be repetitive and boring. Would it not? So, instead, I tumbled out of bed upon hearing that cursed alarm clock with a thud. I let out an exasperated sigh as I straightened myself, feeling dizzy at the sudden change of blood flow.

I hurriedly got dressed, realising I would need to make my own way to scho-. Oh, right. Em's mysterious organisation plan. How exciting! Note the sarcasm.

Last time Em had surprised someone, they had ended up in hospital with a fractured wrist. Word to the wise: if someone doesn't like ice skating, don't take them to a frozen over lake. Just don't.

To be fair, she'd had the right intentions, but... Surprises really aren't her strong suit.

Throwing on some jeans and a comfy jumper over my plain top, I continuously began spying out the window. Mum told me it was silly and that I was such a pessimist. I need to be "more optimistic and quit jumping to conclusions." The thing with thinking Blake was going to drag me off into the woods really wasn't helping my case when I tried to argue otherwise.

It was when I was eating my toast that I was rudely interrupted by a knock at the door. 1. You don't interrupt a girl while she's eating; that's just a no no. 2. This must be the result of Em's planning skills and I felt incredibly uneasy.

"When does Em ever knock?" My mum wondered, a look of bewilderment etched onto her face. She reached towards the door before I could stop her, swinging it inwards to reveal a smug Blake Colton.

Blake Colton, the manipulative playboy, was leaning against my door frame, brandishing that swoon worthy smirk. Dear Lord.

Upon seeing this model worthy boy, my mum slammed the door and swivelled to stare at me with those accusing eyes. She pointed a finger at me, silently jumping up and down. Ok, my mum was a teenager at heart, always ready to discuss boys.

"Mum," I pointedly stared at the now closed door.

"Oh, right!" She yelped, pivoting yet again to reopen the door. Blake looked shocked, most likely not expecting a middle aged woman slamming a door in his face. Or maybe he'd realised he's forgotten to have a wee before he left. Probably the former.

"I'm so sorry," my mother stammered. So that's where I got my awkwardness from! I thought. Figures. "I didn't- You didn't-," After a string of different sentence starters, she opted lastly with "Who are you?" No matter the embarrassment she now faced, she still had that cheeky look to her.

"Blake Colton, ma'am," he answered, showcasing that magnificent smile of his. "I came to pick up Ashley for school."

She simply nodded, clapping her hands together. My head snapped to the sound. "You best be off then," I didn't miss the not-so-subtle wink she threw my way as we exited.

My street was fairly quiet and I was glad we wouldn't pass too many people who knew who would know me or Blake.

Arriving at school with Blake would evoke rumours and very angry females and a few males and I didn't need their wrath even before we got to school. Oh how much I was looking forward to the border line bullying. Whooh.

"I'm sorry about that," I began.

"No worries," he chuckled, one hand on the steering wheel while the other rested on his thigh. The weather had definitely improved, now all that remained of the previous few days of storm was dark clouds. Even they would be swept away soon. Maybe, just maybe it would be decent enough to walk home.

The rest of the drive was silent, except for the quiet hum of the outside world through his window, but strangely not too awkward. I wondered whether he was going to bring up the fact that I called him, you know, egotistical again. I was surprised he hadn't brought it up yesterday, to be honest or maybe he was waiting so he could public ally humiliate me. But, so far the subject hadn't arisen.