The Player

Chapter 5

Brielle

10:32 PM

"Do it again!" I yelled, trying to be heard over the blasting music. Christopher and I had been practicing

for about an hour and a half, and we had gotten absolutely nowhere. Today was supposed to be easy

for him, since I was just teaching the fundamentals. However, with how much he was currently

struggling, I was hopeless that he would be able to do an entire routine for the showcase in just two

months.

"Honestly, how many times were you hit in the head? I've been teaching you the five basic positions for

over an hour and you still don't remember them!"

Stepping away from Christopher, who was currently trying, and failing, at the ballet barre, I swigged

from my water bottle. All the yelling that I was doing was breaking me into a sweat.

"I don't think that yelling at me counts as teaching," He complained back, groaning in the process. He

stepped away from the barre, seemingly giving up, and sat down with his back against the mirrored

wall. He ran his hands through his hair, obviously frustrated with himself.

Seeing him in this state, distraught and beaten down, couldn't help but make me smile. Just a few days

earlier, he was THE Christopher Russel, untouchable and perfect in everyone's eyes. But now he sat in

front of me, worn down after only an hour of dance taught by yours truly.

"Why are you smiling?" He asked, in between pants. His eyes were squinted in an attempt to keep the

sweat out of them, and his face was actually contorted in pain from how bad his body already ached.

And this is our star quarterback? I'm surprised we've ever won.

"Nothing," I said, a smile on my lips. "I just think it's funny that Vista Valley's star athlete can't handle a

little ballet."

He scoffed, "Oh and you think that doing football is easy?" Now laughing he continued. "I bet you five

bucks that you couldn't even make a field goal if you tried twenty times."

"Oh please," I rolled my eyes. "I could do it on my first." I don't know why I lied, because I knew that I

couldn't make it if I had a hundred tries, but I just wanted to wipe that smug little smirk off his face.

"Prove it." He said. "Let's go right now."

Crap.

"No, we can't because..." I scrambled for an excuse, my face now turning red. "...we have to finish

practicing." I let out a deep breath, thanking god that I came up with a reason.

"If I take a break I'll be more focused." He now began to stand up, waiting for me to do the same.

"The football field is locked!"

"I have a way in."

"I don't have any gym shoes!" I said, scrambling for anything at this point.

"They're right over there..." He said, confused, pointing to my Nikes in the corner.

Traitors.

"Wait a second, you're scared that you're going to lose, aren't you? Are you afraid of a little bet?" He

mocked, having too much fun at my expense.

Seeing that I had no choice at this point, I gave up trying to prevent the inevitable.

"No, I just wanted to save you the embarrassment of losing." I got up, switching out my ballet flats for

my gym shoes. "Let's go."

~~~

"You know on second thought, I don't think that this was a good idea."

Christopher and I now stood in front of the field goal, which looked much bigger on the field than it did

in the bleachers. It was pitch black outside, and Christopher's way of getting into the stadium was

climbing over the ten-foot locked fence.

"Seriously, what if we get caught?" Christopher may be used to breaking the rules, but I tried to be a

good student. I couldn't afford to get any marks on my record.

"Oh relax." He said brushing me off. "Now do this field goal that you were bragging about."

"You know the wind is a little off so I don't thin- "

"If this is your way of forfeiting then I can take my five dollars now." He stuck his hand out, waiting for

me to give it to him.

I slapped his hand away from me. "You wish."

I rediverted my attention to the field goal, praying that by some miracle I would be able to make it. I

tried to bring back all the memories of football I had, which was just a few super bowls and high school

matches. Darn my hate for sports.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared to make a complete fool of myself.

"One," I said, trying to line my foot up with the ball.

"Two," My eyes began to close as I brought my leg back, preparing to kick. Even my body didn't want

to see this disaster.

"Thre- "

Before I could kick the ball, the florescent lights in the stadium flashed on, causing me and Christopher

to cover our eyes.

"Who's there?" a deep voice asked. The culprit of the voice was soon identified as a security guard

came running towards us. I looked back at Christopher, to see that he was already booking it out of the

stadium.

"Come on Brielle, move!" He yelled, looking back at me. My mind screamed at me to run, but I was

paralyzed, stuck watching the security guard reach closer and closer to me.

Move Brielle!

Move!

Christopher took another look back, and saw that I had still yet to move. Groaning he yelled, "For the

love of God!" and turned around, running back towards me. Without saying a word, he picked me up,

and slung me over his shoulder before sprinting at full speed out of the field.

What in the world is happening!

When we reached the parking lot, the security guard was still behind us, but was falling further and

further behind. Christopher's ability to run that fast while carrying me was shocking to say the least. He

stopped at a car, which I assumed to be his, before putting me down by the passenger door.

"Get in!" he yelled, already in the driver's seat. I quickly snapped out of my trance, before jumping into

the passenger seat next to him. Before I could even close my door, he pulled out of the parking lot, his

tires screeching the process.

"What the heck was that!" He yelled, driving away from the school. "You just stood there like a deer in

headlights!"

"I don't know, OK," I said, a smile on my face. "I just had a delayed reaction!"

"No, missing a catch is a delayed reaction, you looked like you were attacked by Frozone from the

Incredibles." Throwing my head back, I laughed so hard that my stomach began to hurt. He took his

attention off the road as I did, his eyes bright with amusement. Once I stopped laughing he began to

talk.

"Look at how much fun you have when you're not a goodie-too-shoes all the time."

"I am not a goodie-too-shoes!" I cried, punching him in the arm. "I live life on the edge."

"Oh really," he smirked. "Prove it."

Feeling brave, I unbuckled my seat belt and opened his sun roof. I stepped onto his armrest before

sticking my body through the opening, loving the feeling of the cold, night wind nipping at my skin. My

hair whipped in the wind as I let out the loudest scream that I possibly could, before sitting back down

in my seat.

"I was thinking more along the lines of flashing me." Christopher said, his arrogance returning once

more. "But that works too."

"Hey!" I huffed, offended at yet another one of his crude remarks. Before, I could scold him, he pulled

into my neighborhood.

"Oh, here's my house." I pointed to the small red brick house in front of us, pulling into my driveway, he

parked.

"I would say thank you for the ride, but with the amount of therapy that I'm going to need, you should be

apologizing to me." I said, opening the car door.

"Anytime, darling." He flashed one of his signature smiles, which did nothing for my attitude.

"Just be at the studio tomorrow at seven."

Before I could even close the door, my older brother Scott came storming out of my house, his face

contorted in anger. I walked up to him, trying to understand what he was mad about. However, once I

reached him, he rushed right past me and straight to Christopher.

"What are you doing with my sister?" Scott yelled, grabbing Christopher by the collar and dragging him

out of the car. "Stay away from her!"

I ran up to them, trying to pull them apart, but it was of no use.

"Nothing happened!" I attempted to shout to Scott. But before I could finish, Christopher cut me off.

"What's the issue?" he said shoving Scott away from him. "We were just playing around at my house,

nothing that I haven't done before." My face grew hot as I grew angrier. He was using me to get under

my brother's skin, even though we didn't do anything.

Upon hearing this information, Scott lifted his fist and punched Christopher in the face. Christopher spat

on the ground and wiped his mouth, getting ready to punch back. I knew that if I wanted to stop this, I

would have to do something, and fast.

"Stop!" I yelled, jumping in-between the two of them. "Please."

Scott's eyes softened as they looked at me. However, once he glanced up at Christopher's face, they

hardened again instantly.

"Go inside Brielle." He spat, pushing me out of the way. "I'll deal with you later."

"She didn't seem so submissive a few hours ago." Christopher butt in, only making the situation worse.

"God stop it!" I screamed finally reaching my breaking point. "Christopher, you know that none of that

happened, and for the love of God Scott stop treating me like I'm five! I'm sixteen and smart enough to

make my own choices!"

"If you were smart enough to make your own choices, you wouldn't be coming home with him at eleven

at night." He clenched his fists as a vein popped out of his neck. "Get inside the house, and don't make

me say it again."

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"Watch me."

He did this all the time, always taking on the role of my dad when I didn't ask him. An overprotective

brother was useful when I was young and needed protecting, but I was a teenager now. And while I

never claim that I know it all, I was certainly old enough to make my own decisions. It was frustrating

that he constantly tried to tell me what to do, and I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to show him that

he couldn't control me anymore, and that I was my own person.

I took a deep breath and braced myself to the most stupid thing that I've ever done. I spun on my heels,

walked past both of them, and hopped into the passenger seat of Christopher's car.

I waved at Scott from inside the car, relishing in his astonishment, before turning my attention to

Christopher. Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

"Are you coming or not?"