Living With The Player

**CAMILLA RENÉE**

TUESDAY.

CAL-UBelongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

Jimmy. Never got his last name. I scan him, taking in his features compared to the last time I saw him.

As much as I thought I’d never return to that moment in time, I recall the shots of tequila we had taken, the laughter brewing in the air, his hand slung over my shoulder. His got even broader. He’s holding up a box and my brows shoot up. He’s moving in here? He’s going to Cal-U? Isn’t that precious? No, it is not, that’s sarcasm.

“Camilla.”

I snap my head back to him. He’s in the elevator, and we’re going up. Then he slams his hand over the buttons and we’re halted in the air.

I swallow hard.

“I’d like to think you remember me.”

He chuckles, a hand running through his silk hair. There’s a wrinkle left and the urge to help him out is overwhelming. He’s wearing a simple ash shirt and sweatpants. Just like me.

*Keep calm Camilla.*

I clear my throat.

“I remember you, Jimmy.”

I swallow again. His smile widens, and he kicks the box towards the corner.

“Why aren’t we moving?”

“Why do you think we aren’t?”

He taunts with a smirk.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”

I retorted, crossing my hands to hide the fact that they were shaking. I’m not scared. I don’t think Jimmy would hurt me. So why am I feeling fluffy suddenly?

“Eight months.”

He breathes.

“Eight months and I spent every moment with you at the back of my head.”

That’s such a guy thing to say.

“You knew I go to Kingston. You could’ve tried to contact me if you wanted.”

I snap harshly at him. Did I want him to contact me?

“Cliché…”

His words ring in the back of my head. I could’ve given him my number if it wasn’t for…

I shake the thoughts off.

“I know, but considering the terms we left off on, I didn’t think contacting you was the right choice, so I kept my distance and here you are.”

I scoff, adding an eye roll in between.

“I need to get back to my room.”

I straighten my shoulders, trying to conceal a glare.

“Of course.”

He pushed the button, and we began moving again.

I have two more floors till I get to Residence Hall B. What are the odds that we are living on the same floors?

God no. Jimmy going to school here wouldn’t influence anything. For all I know, anyone at Richmond or Kingston could be here. It changes nothing.

I stepped forward and pushed the stop button once I reached my floor.

“Till we meet again, gorgeous.”

He whispers, standing by my side. Great, his voice got even thicker up close.

Why is there a shiver running down my spine?

*Not a chance in hell Camilla.*

“I doubt it.”

I swerve my head, passing him a tiny grin, before walking out of the elevator.

It was hot in there. I strode quickly to room 205 without turning back. It’s best if I have no clue about him. None.

I didn’t state it explicitly, but I have no plans to date or anything of that sort. Boys are at the bottom of my to-do list, right after never.

I intend to let it stay that way.

Room 205.

Twisting the doorknob, I walked inside, and Miranda jumped in fright.

Her slightly elevated phone slipped from her grip, dropping on the bed, and I frowned in confusion.

Was she on a video call with someone? And why pause at my expense?

Quirking my brows, I shut the door behind me, and she sat up on the bed

“I didn’t know it was you. I got a little scared there.”

She explained, giggling nervously.

She’s withholding information.

“Spill.”

I demanded, crossing my arms once more.

Her hands went behind her head. We’re scratching now?

“It’s nothing.”

She giggles again.

I narrow my gaze suspiciously, contemplating whether to push it further or simply let it slide. The latter seems better for now. I had a long day.

“Mmm.”

I reply, striding towards my bed. She turned away to reach for her phone and I catch a glimpse.

It’s a video call. I wasn’t wrong.

*I’m never wrong these days.*

Why would she be startled over that? A better question was she speaking with? Weird.

I kick off my shoes and get into bed properly, pulling the covers up to my neck.

“I saw Jimmy.”

I blurt, staring at the ceiling.

Miranda was dead drunk that day, but she remembered events in bits and pieces and although I never spoke about the main course, I told her about the desert. Desert in form of Jimmy whose last name I still do not know.

“Jimmy?”

She repeats, her voice straining to recall.

*One. Two. Three…*

I murmur.

“Fuck! Jimmy!”

She squeals. Of course. Drama-Queen.

“Cute. Hot. Funny. Sexy. Jimmy!”

Those were not my words. Not even close.

“Tell me everything!”

She gushes, leaping from her bed to mine.

Ugh. Why don’t I ever keep things to myself again?

“I went for a walk. I got into the elevator while returning and he got in as well.”

“Oh, my God! The elevator thing! That’s so cute!”

She squeaks. Oh, my eardrums.

I release a breath. I could just turn and try to sleep, but will she let me? Not.

“Nothing happened. We said hello, and I got off.”

I rolled my eyes, placing both hands over my chest.

“When you start a sentence with nothing happened, it simply means something happened, so tell me!”

What do I say? He may or may not look more beautiful than I last saw him?

Beautiful isn’t the word for a guy, but not the point at the moment. He may or may not have broader shoulders, a sexy voice. What else?

It’s the lack of manly contact that’s getting to my head. Jimmy and I had a good time one night. The night turned into something else afterwards. There was lots of flirting, some from my end. I think.

That’s all it was. Eight months passed. I changed.

“Well, I’m not the rule, am I? I’m the exception. Good night Miranda.”

I reached for the night light, switching it off and turning it over.

She grunts in reaction, hopped off my bed and went to hers. I have a feeling that subject is to be continued.

Orientation.

The last thing on my mind before drifting completely into slumber.

****

WEDNESDAY.

7th September 2022. For first-year students, we get a meal plan. There’s a large dining hall, typically all I have to do with every money is get ready for classes. Everything else is planned out.

“Morning roomie.”

Miranda chirps. She’s a tight sleeper, but I’ve dealt with insomnia in the past. I barely get any sleep in.

“Morning.”

I reply, searching for an outfit inside my closet

“No!”

Miranda screams, jerking my arm away from the black gown.

“You are not putting on that trash. You will wear something colourful and pretty. I’ll burn all your baggy shirts and sweatpants. You are not doing that with me.”

Her grip around my arm is tight as fuck.

“Wait here.”

She commands, stomping to her closet. A new day. Miranda Cosgrove caused a new regret.

Fuck me.

“There.”

She shoved a gown in my hand. A blue gown. I scrunched my nose.

“Don’t you dare Camilla Renée? Put that fucking gown on. It suits your eyes.”

“It’s also too tight. Too scrubby. Too not black.”

I whined, holding it up by the tip of my finger.

“Ugh.”

I groaned.

“Put it on or I swear to God I’ll burn those clothes.”

She pointed to my other comfy outfits. Knowing my best friend, she’s well capable of doing that.

“Fine.”

I caved and slid the hand of the other dress down both arms. I’ll regret this for sure.

****

Orientation would take place in the huge space outside.

I’ve received too many glances from everyone to know I hate this dress. Miranda is flaunting herself more or less without a care in the world. She’s going to be an actress, the looks will be a regular thing

There was a podium in the middle and a projector. Lots of pictures as well.

I don’t need this. I spent the last eight months researching this place. I don’t need a map. I know every faculty advisor, every course due date, every lecture hall. I should be the teacher.

Folding my arms, I stood in the corner watching Miranda speak with a few people.

Paula’s parents sponsored her. I’m not sure what occurred. Miranda knew Paula was a soft spot, and I truly wasn’t paying attention, but I know they’re supporting every expense.

I smiled softly at that thought.

“Hello again, gorgeous.”

A voice whispered, thickening in my ear.

Fuck me.

“Jimmy.”

I gritted my teeth. It’s getting annoying now.

I kept looking forward. Fingers crossed, he’ll walk away. He did not.

Miranda is smirking at the corner, giving me the *you’ll spill later* look.

Eye roll.

“Orientation is not just for the talks. You’re supposed to move around and communicate.”

He clicked his tongue.

Second eye roll.

“I don’t care about that.”

“Why is that?”

He’s closer now. Almost as though our bodies are fused, and he’s behind me.

“I don’t..”

I paused.

That sentence was supposed to be “I don’t know”, then a third eye roll. That’s how I proposed it, but it didn’t go in that direction and it’s not because of Jimmy’s alluring tone.

I halted. You’re wondering why aren’t you?

Well, I have a question as well which will answer the former.

What the fuck is Dylan Emerton doing here?

“Camilla.”

Miranda pulled my hand away. I jerked and faced her.

“Huh?”

I blurted out.

Fuck.

Turning back, I zoned in on that spot. He’s gone.

There’s no one there anymore.

Did I imagine him? He wouldn’t go here? He would not attend Cal-U. I know that, but I’m positive I saw him?

“Camilla.”

Miranda called behind me. I. Jimmy. Miranda. Possibly him. Just like that night.

Déjà vu. The bad kind.

****