Can The Player PLAY The Player?

Point 12.

Z.B

"You're in love with Aaron, aren't you?"

Death was creeping close and I almost spat out my apple juice as I looked up from the tree I was leaning against, coming upon Kylene as she smirked evilly. I wiped my mouth in skepticism as I closed my book, trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. "Where did that come from?" I raised a brow, ignoring the rise of my heartbeat.

"I was just thinking about it," She hummed before taking a seat down next to me on the blanket that I was using and I could sense an off air about her. "You're stuck to his side all the time and when you aren't, you always talk about him. If I came over here with the intention of talking about how you could use the bet in your favor, you would find a way to bring Aaron in it. If I was just talking about my day, the next conversation would be about Aaron," Kylene's eyes twinkled as she reveled in this information and I sighed, feeling defeated.

"But I'm sure you already knew this," She chuckled and I looked at her for a minute before nodding in agreement. 

"Yeah, I realized it long ago."

She blinked incredulously as if she didn't expect me to agree with her. I had no reason to lie, now that all my cards were dealt and my hand was exposed. I offered her a small smile as I turned to look off into the distance of the track and field, seeing Owen chasing Aaron around as a way to increase his stamina.

For as long as I could remember, Aaron Moore was there from the beginning to the end. He was my first friend when he hit me on the head with a ball in kindergarten. From there on, we were glued to each other. "I thought he was perfect growing up because he always had it together, always knew what to say to get out of a tough situation, always knew what to do and what to say. He was so smart and so passionate," I mused, highlighting all of the beautiful things that came to mind when I imagined him.

"But then I noticed how imperfect he was and god damn, Kylene," I snickered, hitting my forehead. "I was far too gone," I shook my head. He had the pottiest mouth out of everyone I knew, he was damn impulsive and he didn't care, he got upset when things didn't turn out the way he wanted to, and he drooled in his sleep. 

All of those things made me want him more than I ever did.

"I didn't really know how much I liked him until one night, I had caught a cold from standing in the rain with him for too long after practice," I went on to explain the fateful night during seventh grade. 

"Oh my, you have such a higher fever," My mother bit her lip in fear and in anticipation as she touched my forehead, not liking the feeling. "I'm going to go make some chicken soup for you," Her worried eyes scanned my sweaty figure as I looked at her through hazy eyes, shivering as I managed to give her a shaky smile.

"T-thank you," I stuttered, feeling like my throat had dozens of cotton balls stuck to it. "No need to, Ms. Katrine," I heard a voice from the doorway and my mother moved out of the way to see Aaron standing there, looking sheepish with a Tupperware container in his hand. "I made him some soup as my way of saying sorry for getting him sick," He shrugged and Katrine stood up, shaking her head.

"What are we going to do with you two?" She chuckled to herself before nodding in my direction to Aaron, indicating that he had privacy to talk to me. "Come find me if you need me," She ruffled his hair and he scowled, enticing a laugh from her as she exited the room. 

It seemed like she knew that no matter what happened to me, Aaron always had a remedy for everything. "Oi douchebag, you should've told me that you weren't feeling well!" He hissed as he placed the warm and deliciously smelling soup on my nightstand, patting my face. "I brought you some soup and some orange juice and some water. I'm not leaving until I see you consume them all," I huffed in annoyance and he raised a brow, daring me to defy his words.