The Player

Chapter 8

Brielle

6:53 AM

Sam and I made our ways to our lockers, trying to ignore what everyone was talking about. However, it

only got worse as we continued, with people blatantly staring and pointing at us. When we passed a

group of football players, they let out a group of loud whistles, slapping each other on the back in

approval and laughing. Without looking back, I flipped them my middle finger, before continuing down

the halls. When we finally reached our lockers, Sam turned towards me.

"I think I might know why people are acting weird," she said, biting her lip nervously. "Do you remember Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

anything about that party two nights ago?"

I shook my head no. The only thing that I remembered from that night was drinking way too much

punch, and me and Christopher screaming at each other in his car. Everything else was just one big

blur.

"Well," she dragged on, trying to stall. "You may or may not have danced on top of Christopher's dining

room table before attempting to give a strip tease to the entire school."

My face turned ashen as my jaw dropped in disbelief. "You're joking, right?"

She shook her head remorsefully, looking at me with sympathetic eyes. "Sorry."

I banged my head on my locker, just wanting the day to be over. I groaned in agony, wishing that I was

on my bed and eating while watching Gossip Girl.

"This day can't get any worse."

Just then, Melanie Stuart came strutting down the hall, her eyes locked on me. I flinched involuntarily,

already anticipating her wrath. Melanie had only looked at me once before, and afterwards I stayed

home from school for two days, crying and eating my feelings on my couch. To this day, I still shudder

when I eat a Krispy Kreme donut.

She finally stopped in front of me. "Hey Brielle!" she said excitedly, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Hey...?" I questioned, confused on why she was being nice to me. Either we had a serious kumbaya

moment at Christopher's party, or she was up to something.

"Well," she gushed, a wide smile on her face. "I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about what

happened to your outfit."

"What happened t-"

Before I could finish, Melanie reached into her bag, pulled out a purple Gatorade, and poured the cold

liquid on top of my head. The hallway became silent as I stood, frozen, in shock. Melanie and her

friends cackled as they high-fived each other, apparently content with their work.

My T-shirt was soaked, now revealing my red bra underneath. The stickiness of the drink began to set

in as my fingers stuck together. Now I was seriously confused. What did me dancing on a table have to

do with Melanie?

"What was that for?" I yelled, now snapped out of trance.

She stared at me with dark eyes, her previous nice-girl act nowhere to be found. "Did you really think

that I wouldn't know that you left the party with Christopher?"

My eyes grew wide as the realization hit me. Everyone was whispering about me because they thought

that I had slept with Christopher, not because I was dancing on a table. To be honest, I didn't know if

that should make me feel better or worse.

"Save the innocence act, Christopher already confessed that you slept together. He felt so guilty that

he told me."

What?

I knew that I didn't remember much from that night, but I could vividly recall Christopher dropping me

off at my house after our argument in the car. So why would Christopher lie to her?

"Nothing happened," I pleaded, trying everything in my power to not be on Melanie's bad side. "I

swear."

Her eyes scanned my soaked body up and down before flipping her hair and sneering at me. "Just

keep your hands off my boyfriend."

Her and her friends spun on their heels before walking back down the hallway. Sam turned towards

me, her facial features soft.

"Is that true?" she asked. "I don't judge, but why didn't you tell me?" I sighed, even my best friend

believed it.

"No Sam, if I did you know that I would tell you."

A smile returned to her face, her usually perky attitude back. "Good, because I hate secrets, especially

after the dating crisis of 2017."

We both shuddered, remembering when Sam hid her boyfriend that I didn't approve of from me. She

ended up with two eyebrow piercings and a terrible tattoo infection. After the amount of ointment that I

had to apply on her, we promised to never keep things from each other again.

She continued. "But if it wasn't true, why did Christopher lie to her?"

Anger filled my body, as I remembered that Christopher was the reason for all of this. Determination

filled my face. "I'm going to find out."

I stormed down the hallway, my eyes laser focused on finding Christopher. No longer caring about what

people thought of me, I made sure to tell the first person I saw whispering about me where exactly they

could shove it. I smiled, the look of shock on the freshman's face was priceless. By the time I finally

found Christopher and his friends leaning against some lockers, I was seeing red.

Before I could give Christopher a piece of my mind, I was interrupted by his gang of football players.

They began hooting and whistling, clapping Christopher on the back for a job well done. It wasn't until I

looked down and saw that my bra was still showing through my T-shirt.

"Seriously," I snapped, annoyed with their constant cat-calling. "Is that all that you dogs are trained to

do other than slap each other's butts?"

The insult seemed to have no effect on the boys, as one of them shouted. "You can train me to do

whatever you want."

I rolled my eyes. Nothing seemed to phase them!

It wasn't until Christopher told them to go that I could final speak my mind.

"Why did you tell Melanie that we slept together?" I cried, throwing my hands up in the air. "She poured

a drink over my head because of you." I shoved my finger in his chest, emphasizing my point.

"I have no clue what you're talking about." He said, a smirk on his face. "But if you ever want to have

another go at it, just call me."

"What is wrong with you!" I was so angry that I could barely get the words out of my mouth. "You know

that's a lie!"

He suddenly got quiet, darting his eyes across the hallway before speaking.

"I have a reputation to up hold," he whispered, hoping that no one would hear. "Don't take it personally."

My face grew hot, rage building up inside of me.

How dare he!

I reached into my backpack before finally grabbing hold of what I was looking for. "Don't worry," I said

sweetly, trying my hardest to plaster a smile on my face. "I won't."

At that moment, I took my water bottle out from my backpack and poured the icy liquid over his head.

"Doesn't feel too nice, does it?"

Just then the bell rang, signifying the start of first period. I walked away from him, quickly throwing on

my Julliard sweatshirt, before making my walking into my first period class. Sam sat down next to me,

setting her backpack down on her desk.

"Did you really throw water over Christopher's head?" she asked, her eyes a little too excited for my

liking.

"Have you been watching reality TV?" I questioned. "Because we agreed that you would stop after you

pretended to be a real housewife of Beverly hills for two weeks." During that phase, she insisted on

wearing sunglasses inside and only drank her water out of martini glasses.

"I was just practicing just in case I married rich!" she cried. "And no, I haven't been watching it." I

looked at her with knowing eyes.

"Ok I have but only on Thursdays," she confessed. "But you never answered my question."

I sighed. "Yes, I did pour water on him, but he deserved it."

"I wish I could have seen it," she gushed. "How did he react? Did he yell?"

"Sam," I warned. "Control yourself."

"I know, I know," she said disappointedly, facing forward as the teacher entered the room. Mr. Brown,

my chemistry teacher, took a slip out of his pocket and read it aloud in a deep, monotone voice.

Well I'm most definitely sleeping in this class.

"Brielle Miller, you are wanted in the principal's office immediately."

My face went pale, as I started to regret dosing Christopher in water. I slowly got up, making my way to

the front of the now quiet class. I passed by Melanie on my way, my eyes locking with hers.

"Slut," she coughed, smiling. Everyone erupted in laughter, making Mr. Brown tell them to settle down. I

nervously walked to the principal's office, preparing myself for the trouble that I was going to face. If

Julliard found out about it, I could kiss my dreams goodbye.

When I finally arrived at his office, I was surprised to see a scowling Christopher already sitting in front

of him.

"Sit down," Mr. Wilson, our principal, bellowed. "It has come to our attention that you two broke into our

football stadium a few days ago."

I shot a glare at Christopher, angry that I had allowed him to convince me to do it. He stared straight,

seemingly unfazed by us being caught.

"That kind of behavior will not be tolerated this year," he continued. "So, as punishment," he reached

under his desk, pulling out a bucket with two metal scrapers inside. "You two will be forced to scrape all

off all of the gum from under the bleachers every day until the entire stadium is cleaned."

My jaw dropped, those bleachers hadn't been cleaned for years! "But-" I protested, not willing to accept

that punishment.

"End of discussion," he cut me off. "You're dismissed."

I grabbed my bag, shooting Christopher one last glare, before storming out of his office. On my way

out, I ran into a hard body. Their hands quickly grabbed on to my shoulders, steadying me. I looked up,

about to apologize, before I realized that it was my brother Scott.

"I never thought that I would see the day that Brielle Miller was in the principal's office," he teased,

seeming to enjoy my demise.

At least he was talking to me.

Before I could respond, Christopher walked out of the office, his jaw going tight as he spotted my

brother.

"What are you doing with my sister!" he demanded, his fists tight.

I rolled my eyes. Here we go again.