The Player's Weakness | ongoing

TPW// chapter five

AFTER GETTING PAST BLAKE, our casual act fell apart and we got out of there, fast. We all but barged into the classroom door, but very few people were in there. None of them batted an eyelash when we clicked the door shut.

My heart still shook from the terror I'd felt when passing Blake.

When we were seated in lesson, she seemed to be bored of the whole 'conspiracy' thing after seeing Blake and had decided to play a little game. Probably to distract me from thinking about him.

"Okay, Stiles Stilinski or Scott McCall?" She began, sitting on the table and looking down at me.

"Stiles, duh," Stiles was one of my many husbands, so I got to stay loyal. It's ironic really because of just how many 'husbands' I actually do have. Don't blame me if there are so many great looking guys on television. Not as good looking as Blake though. Dammit.

Thinking about my pair, I finally asked, "What about Cedric Diggory or Isaac Lahey?" I don't know who I'd choose out of the pair, considering they are both on my husbands list.

"Can't choose. They're both hot and can be my children's fathers any day of the week," she responded at last, now sitting in her seat as the teacher strode in.

Em may be committed to Jay, but that didn't mean she wouldn't let her mind wander elsewhere, especially if they're *gasp* just characters. Besides I think Jay has gotten used to Emily muttering "impregnate me," whenever he watches literally any show with her.

"Nina Dobrev or Shelley Hennig?"

"Both. They are both gorgeous."

"Ms Turner and Ms Blossom. Please save your chatting for later," the teacher's voice sounded abruptly. Em rolled her eyes whilst I mumbled an apology. Stupid teacher and their interrupting of our conversation.

Whilst the teacher had his back turned, we continued down another path of talk.

"Jay is already fretting about this stupid game. I want to hang out with him and he's bloody training!" Em complains, throwing her hand up in the air. I grabbed two pens from my bag, throwing her one.

Settling myself more comfortably in the chair, I watched her redoing her ponytail, "You knew what you were signing up to when you began a relationship with the captain of the football team." This was far from the first time that we'd had this exact conversation, which we usually settled with a girls' night.

"I know," she huffed, exasperatedly. "But I didn't know it was going to be like this." She rested her head on her hands, closing her eyes for a few minutes. "I mean I support what he wants to do and our intimacy is amazing," she tilted her head and threw me a wink to which I scrunched my face in disgust. TMI Em, TMI. "I just want to spend a bit more time with him."

"Why don't you go to some of his practices," I tried. "Or going out on a proper date with a restaurant and wine. The whole works." She seemed to be contemplating this for a moment. I've known Emily long enough to know not to interrupt her when she's thinking or eating or watching her favourite tv show or film or... you get the picture.

Opening a crisp packet with a pop, she said through a mouthful of crisps, "There is a that nice Italian restaurant down the road." And it's possibly the most expensive one in the state, I thought, but didn't voice it. Best not ruin her fantasies.

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"I'm going to spend some time in the library," I told Em as we both hurriedly placed (more like stuffed) our most recent assignment in our bags, realising I had a free period. I wanted to get a head start on the homework, knowing I would inevitably procrastinate until a day before the deadline and then run around that night like a headless chicken.