How To Play the Player (COMPLETED)

Prologue

I was absolutely positive of two things walking into school the first day of my senior year; I was in desperate need of freshly brewed coffee from Java Jen's and this sure as hell was not going to be my year.

In a school of over three thousand students, I couldn't exactly blame the faculty for losing my transcripts. I wasn't exactly a stand out student; I wasn't a star athlete and had no place in any of the student councils or clubs. I was just a student that floated on by with one thing on my agenda. Graduation. Unfortunately, losing my transcripts only proved to be at the top of an extraordinarily long list of things that went wrong throughout the rest of the day.

Once my paperwork was recovered, it was shoved into my hands without much of an apology. I cringed internally at the sight of the classes I'd been thrown into, not one of them an elective I chose. It was safe to say I'd be making a reappearance before I left for the day to try and bargain with my counselor.

"You look like shit." a quiet voice broke my concentration on my journey down the hall to first period.

"They couldn't find my transcripts." I slowed to a stop at my locker. "And I literally don't have one class I wanna be in."

Lifting my head, I shot my best friend a weary look. I had no doubt in my mind Bryan had drunk a full pot of coffee before coming in. His brown eyes were slightly dilated, gold flecks dancing around in them as he shifted back and forth on his feet anxiously. It had only been a couple days since I'd seen him last, but he had buzzed off the Afro he'd been trying to grow out for the last six months sometime during the last forty-two hours.

"Poor you." he feigned sympathy. "What is poor Reese gonna do without me?"

I crossed my arms. "I seem to remember I'm your ride home, idiot."

He cracked a smile.

"Okay, okay. Honestly, that sucks." he squeezed my shoulder. "But try and suck it up, Re, it'll all smooth out in a couple days, I'm sure."

I mocked him under my breath, earning a dirty look out of him. Smiling sheepishly, I started to back into my English classroom.

"I'll see you at lunch!" I called, startling a few girls gossiping in front of my locker before ducking in and hurrying to the back of the classroom.

I was stopped midway.

"Miss Taylor!" I winced at the sound of Mr. Herring's voice echoing through the room. "Please take your assigned seat."

"Assigned seat?" I responded confusedly, turning around to face the elderly man. My English teacher narrowed his eyes for a moment, then held his hand out in a gesture toward the table right in the middle of the classroom.

I'd been a student aide for this class last year as an elective, and we'd had a decent enough rapport. But seeing his look of irritation now, I understood that I'd gone from a helping hand he didn't have too much say over to one of his pupils. 

His white brows furrowed. "For this semester, you will be partnered for a project. Please take a seat."

My lack of coffee irritation almost got the best of me, my lips starting to form an angry comeback. Realizing what I was about to say, I made my way to the table and slung my backpack over the chair, watching the door as the rest of the class started to pile in.

Everyone wandered around aimlessly until they understood the  order of things and finally took a seat. A small bubble of hope spread through my chest when the bell rang and nobody had taken a seat beside me.