Resisting the Player -- [Completed - Unedited]

Chapter 35: Stop It

It's cold.

I don't know why I agreed to this—I don't know why he wanted to meet outside at the begining of December—but here I am.

I could walk back home, but this bench—though it is cold—is too comfortable and I'm not really looking to, you know, exercise right now. It's bad enough I walked over here on crutches, and I'm not exactly looking to do it again.

Kyle is late.

We texted some more, and we agreed on one in the afternoon, and it's two-fifty right now, and the park is empty. He was always late everywhere, though, even when we were dating.

It was one thing about him that always pissed me off, to be honest.

"Cassandra."

Fucking finally.

I turn my head to the right to see Kyle standing there, his hands in his pockets.

I want to smile at the familiar sight of him, but I force myself not to.

I sigh. "Let's just get this over with. What did you want to talk about?"

He hesitates, and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. "I just...wanted to apologise. Again," he adds. "Apologise again. I didn't mean to say what I did on the phone the other day."

"Great. Is that it?"

He narrows his eyes at me. "Why are you being like this?"

"Being like what?"

"You know like what."

"I really don't."

"Cassandra."

"Kyle."

That was the wrong thing to say.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he yells, taking a step closer to where I'm sitting on the bench. "Why are you being like this?"

Getting kind of scary here.

On the side of my body facing away from Kyle, I take my phone out and unlock it with my thumb, sneaking a glance at the screen to go to my contacts.

"What are you talking about?" I ask him calmly, trying to not freak out. Or make him angrier. He always did have a short temper.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he yells, taking another step towards me.

I click on what I hope is Aaron's contact, and I hit the picture of a phone to dial his number.

"I really don't," i say, and, completely out of nowhere and for no reason at all, I'm transported back to the day Aaron yelled at me that day I had detention.

Not fucking now, brain.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the screen of my phone displaying the call screen, meaning Aaron picked up.

Kyle takes another step forward—I quickly put my phone on speaker and flip it over so he can't see—and he grabs my arm, yanking me off the bench, but not before I manage to grab my phone.

"Let go of me, Kyle," I say firmly, hoping my phone picks up our conversation.

"No," he says. "Not until you listen to me, actually listen to me."

"Fine. I'm listening. Happy?"

He shakes me, and, even though it was only for a couple of seconds, it causes my ribs to start aching the slightest bit.

"Would you stop?" I ask.

His grip on my arm tightens to the point where I feel my circulation is getting cut off, and I can't stop myself from crying out.