Living with the Player

Chapter 8

"Welcome one, welcome all, to Maestro Niccoló's Academy for the Heartbroken," Nico announces in a heavily exaggerated Italian accent. It's day three since he's moved in and he's felt free to take over my room and everything in it, including my whiteboard, which has "OPERATION DESTROY BRIAN" written at the top in huge block letters.

"It's just me, Nico," I say from my seat. This whole me sitting down as he towers above me thing is not my favorite. He already has nearly a foot on me standing up. Sitting down, it's even worse.

He ignores my comment and scans over me, his eyes not really stopping anywhere and his face unimpressed.

"Pop quiz," he announces. "What is the best way to get back at a guy who played you?"

"This is dumb," I say.

"Don't talk back to your teacher," he says immediately and my face curls.

Time goes by as he waits expectantly for my answer so I finally let out a sigh and say, "Ice crea-"

"Raise your hand," he interrupts.

I cross my arms. "Do you have a boner for our English teacher or something?"

"What?!" he exclaims in horror.

"This student-teacher roleplay thing you're doing is fucking suspicious," I say as seriously as I can. Internally, I'm holding in my laughter at his expression.

His face stays stunned for a second but it suddenly shifts from terrified to smirking. "So you're my student then," he says. In one swift move, he places both of his hands on the arms of my chair, entering my space. I lean back immediately in shock as his eyes stay trained on mine despite the proximity of our faces. "In that case, I'm going to need you to follow the rules. You're good at that, right?"

Hah. Does he think I'm going to back down? I lean closer to him and he doesn't budge. Our noses are practically touching. "You don't intimidate me, Nico."

Back away. Back away.

He doesn't back away. Up close, I notice a tinge of azure in his eyes. My hands itch for my paints to replicate the color. "Be a good girl and listen to your teacher."

That's it. I push him away from me and start to gag, only half pretending, as he laughs.

"Don't be gross," I say with a spiteful look.

He just smiles. "Anyways, the correct answer to my question, Cho, is to get hot and finesse a guy who's taller than him so he feels insecure."

I raise an eyebrow.

"My bad, I meant hotTER," he corrects himself, flashing a saintly smile.

"This sounds extremely toxic," I say. "And there's no guy for me to 'finesse'. I honestly dislike all of you."

His mouth opens slightly. "Wh- you still don't like me? I thought we were friends."

Of course he would focus on that part of what I said.

"My friendship has to be earned," I say. That's why I'm really only friends with Samaya. "But I dislike you a little less than before if that helps."

He smiles. "You play with my heart too much," he says, placing his hand on his chest.

"Funny. Can we move on?" I motion with my hands.

"C'mon, Jennie," he says. "There has to be a guy who you think has potential. Besides me, of course."

Disregarding the last part of his comment, I rack my brain for any guy at our school that I would be interested in. Nothing. Nada.

"What about Jordan?" he suggests.

"Your friend Jordan?" I ask. "The Soundcloud rapper?" He can't be serious.

"I mean, his music isn't that bad..." he starts but still moves on. "How about Todd?"

"No. This whole concept is wrong. I'm not going to talk to a guy just to play around with his feelings."

"Then don't. Talk to a guy because it's an opportunity to meet someone cool that you get along with." He makes everything sound so easy.

I shake my head. "I'm not you, Nico. I can't just go up to people one minute and be their best friend the next. Especially not guys."

"Why not?" he asks.

I bite my lip. A lot of reasons. One: guys at my school don't like Asian girls. Two: I'm not great at pretending that I'm nice. Finally, most people think I'm scary and probably don't want to talk to me. That's fine by me. I don't want to waste my time on people who don't want to be my friend and I really don't want to be a bother to someone.

"Because I'm not Samaya," I say. He waits for me to expand. "I'm not someone people want to talk to," I explain, trying not to feel humiliated. Even if it's something I've felt, admitting it out loud makes it feel real. Sheesh. I've barely talked to Nico for a couple days and he's already getting me to spill all of my deep, dark insecurities.

"I like talking to you," he says immediately. "I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit." He pulls me up from my seat and smiles. "But I think I know how to fix it."

"What do you mean?" I ask suspiciously and his smile widens, revealing pearly white teeth.

"Lucky you, I happen to be out of clothes at the moment, which gives us both the opportunity to scoop some stuff."

I raise a brow. "Shopping? You and me? I'd rather just go with Samaya if this is about getting new clothes."

He lets go of my wrist, making me realize he's been holding onto it this whole time. "New clothes... and some other things," he says with an evil smile.

Oh no. "What other things?"