The Player Game (Original Story)
Whoever falls in love first… loses.
When daring Emily Rosser meets arrogant player, Aaron Nichols, the two of them clash immediately. But in coming across a picture online, the invention of their very own game occurs – The Player Game. But when there are conditions involved, falling in love doesn’t seem so difficult.
Who will win The Player Game?
â€œWhat?â€ I reply sharply, too shocked to shove him back like I normally would. My head snaps to the side to stare at him.
Why would I have a crush on Aaron? What on earth could I find attractive about the arrogant jerk-head Aaron Nichols, chief player of Greentree High?
â€œI said,â€ Aaron leans past me to take control of the computer mouse and the soft scent of blueberries rise into my nostrils. I lean back in my chair, trying to put myself a bearable distance away from his close body. â€œI bet you have a crush on me.â€ He doesnâ€™t even bother to spare a mere glance in my direction, too busy concentrating on scrolling through tumblr.
I can feel my teeth starting to grind together, a habit when I get angry. My fists clench together as I fight the urge to get violent. When I'm upset or angry, violence is my first reflex. If someone annoys me, the first thing I think of doing is hitting them over the head.
You could say I'm the violence-junkie type of girl.
â€œWhat the hell?â€ I yell, satisfying myself by slapping his hand away from the mouse. Irritably, I regain control of the computer, clicking onto the next page and glaring at the screen.
I canâ€™t believe that Iâ€™ve been abandoned by Micky for his new girlfriend. We've been planning our "Make Fun of Movies Night" for the past week. I even went to the extreme of buying two shopping bags worth of junk food for the night. Yet, when I turn up to prepare, I find that he's abandoned me for his new girlfriend Tatiana, leaving me with his ass of a cousin, Aaron.
Heâ€™s probably quite content eating spicy chicken with his glamorous girlfriend. You could say the Player-ism runs in the familyâ€¦ though my best friend is much more likeable.
Aaron smirks at me, obviously knowing the peeved thoughts going through my head. He leans back in his comfortable black armchair, one leg propped over the armrest casually.
I glare at his comfortable posture for a second before I continue using the mouse to scroll down the page.
The computer is an old grey thing, with a server as slow as a snail. The screen flickers with every click so that it's as though lights are flashing in your face. It can be so bad sometimes that I have to blink rapidly to rid the feeling.
The matching keyboard isn't much better. Not only is it hard to type on with it's chunky grey keys but the mouse is big and heavy too. I have to admit, even the ugly school computers are more modern.
â€œI do not have a crush on you,â€ I assure Aaron, letting a moody edge creep into my voice.
I try to ignore the smug smirk I can see stretching across his lips. I watch his smile grow in my peripheral vision as he opens his mouth to speak. Before he can utter a word, I take action.
â€œDonâ€™t." I point a finger sternly at him before he has a chance to open his mouth. â€œI do not like you.â€
I realise that my teeth are clenched together again, and force myself to unclench them, turning away from his smirking face. Angrily, I return to tumblr, clicking onto a new page.
I donâ€™t know how we even ended up on tumblr. I guess that I chose this option over sitting in the awkward silence that fills the Nicholsâ€™ kitchen. I canâ€™t go home since my parents are out and my keys are on top of the cabinet in my bedroom.
A low chuckle sounds from next to me. â€œYouâ€™ve gone bright red.â€
This time I whirl around on my chair to face him, my rage flaring. â€œI have not gone red. I do not have a crush on you. Get the picture?â€ Iâ€™m speaking through my teeth, another habit when I get angry.
Does he never shut up?
Aaron seems to bask in my anger, taunting in a sing-song voice, â€œYouâ€™re falling for the player!â€
â€œIâ€™d never fall for a player, douche bag.â€ I glare at him. His blue eyes glimmer with humor at my fury. â€œYouâ€™re so annoying.â€
Defiantly, I turn my shoulder on him, allowing my blonde hair to fall across the side of my face, shielding my rosy cheeks. As much as I hate him, I have to admit that his more-than-attractive presence is embarrassing on my behalf.
His tousled dark brown hair is perfect with just a flick of his head, and his bright blue eyes are big and oval. Thereâ€™s nothing you can fault about his looks, from his nicely sized nose, with a slight bump in the middle, to the line of straight white teeth resting comfortably in his gums. Thereâ€™s no denying that heâ€™s fit too. His membership in the football and baseball team is something that he enjoys showing off.
Itâ€™s a shame his personality doesnâ€™t match the good looks.
Well, what can you say? A pretty face doesnâ€™t mean a pretty person.
â€œOh my god, Emily!â€ His hand slams on top of mine to stop me from scrolling further down the page.
â€œOuch.â€ I tug my hand out from underneath his, rubbing it tenderly where he hit so hard. Iâ€™ll admit- Iâ€™m exaggerating the injury a tiny bit, but when Iâ€™m around Aaron, I have a need to annoy him as much as possible.
He nudges me in the ribs with his elbow. â€œLook!â€
â€œWhat was that fo-?â€ Indignantly I start to protest against his unneccessary violence, before I realise that heâ€™s pointing at a large picture on the screen.
My eyes roam over the text on the image for ten seconds. As I reach the end, my jaw drops. Heâ€™s grinning at me suggestively.
I look at him with disbelief. â€œNo way.â€
His teeth are gleaming at me now, his eyes flickering from the screen to me.
â€œAbsolutely not. Nuh-uh.â€ I cross my arms defiantly. â€œI refuse.â€
His smile quickly turns into a smirk. â€œScared youâ€™ll lose?â€
Heâ€™s called me out. Whatever excuse I use, heâ€™ll just insist that Iâ€™m scared. Thereâ€™s one thing Iâ€™m proud of and thatâ€™s my nerve. Iâ€™m not one to back away from a dare.
When I was five, a little girl named Cerys challenged me to a game of truth and dare. The dare was to drink a whole bottle of vinegar. Hell, I drank it and it made me sick for days. But if anyone asked me if I would change what happened? Without hesitation, Iâ€™d say I wouldn't. I donâ€™t back away from dares.
â€œAre you daring me?â€ I raise my eyebrows at him, spinning around to face him.
â€œYes,â€ he replies, staring right back at me with a determined expression on his face.
Thatâ€™s what makes the decision for me.
â€œI canâ€™t believe youâ€™re forcing me to do this,â€ I complain, dropping my pen onto the sheets of paper in front of me.
â€œForcing?â€ he retaliates. â€œYouâ€™re the one who accepted the dare. Youâ€™ve signed the sheets. There's no backing out now, sweetie. We start on Monday.â€
He points at our two signatures at the bottom of each sheet. There are two copies of the pact, and at the top of each sheet, written in neat capitals is The Player Game.
That's Aaronâ€™s dare, you see.
The tumblr image we came across online sparked the idea and now we are taking it to the extreme, adding our own little accessories to the text and taking away bits as well. Now we are finished, and the two signatures at the bottom of each copy bind us to the Game until someone wins.
I read through my copy one more time, as if to prove to myself that this is actually happening. This isnâ€™t just a strangely abnomal dream.
THE PLAYER GAME
Letâ€™s sweet talk.
Letâ€™s hold hands.
Letâ€™s play fight.
Letâ€™s talk 247./
Letâ€™s tell each other good morning and good night every day.
Letâ€™s take walks together.
Letâ€™s share candyfloss.
Letâ€™s French kiss.
Letâ€™s sneak out to see each other.
Letâ€™s risk our phoneâ€™s life to text in class.
Letâ€™s hold each other.
Letâ€™s hug and kiss.
Letâ€™s go on dates.
Whoever falls in love first?
By signing this, I swear that I will abide by these terms for the next five months, without fail, and with no excuses.
My expression wavering between a glare and smile, I fold up my copy and force it into my tight jeans' pocket. I'm not sure whether to be excited or angry about my agreement to The Player Game. In a way, I'm excited about the prospect of it, but then again, I'm angry because it's Aaron I have to put up with. I decide to settle with a sulk.
Aaron smirks at the grouchy expression on my face.
I glare at him, getting out of my seat and pulling my cell phone out of my pocket.
â€œIâ€™m going to go now,â€ I decide to point out the obvious, dialling my mumâ€™s number as I walk towards the door.
I hear a pair of faint footsteps behind me, and before I reach the door, Aaron steps in front of me. He reaches out, holding the door open in a gentlemanly fashion.
â€œBye bye, sweetie.â€ He winks as I give him a confused look.
My spare fist clenches together as I try not to hit him in aggravation. Just as Iâ€™m about to tell him off angrily, a â€œHello?â€ comes out of the receiver. Promising myself Iâ€™ll get him back later, I send a haughty glare in his direction before stalking out of the door and out of the house.
New story! It's a lively, fun novel, which I am determined to finish. It already has five chapters- since it's already on Wattpad- and I'm updating every weekend. I'll gradually add chapters to get this up to date though. Comment? :D
Slideshow of characters --> http://s1181.photobucket.com/albums/x434/StoriesMakeMeCry/?action=view¤t=8243c60e.pbw