The Player

Chapter 13

Brielle

6:23 AM

"Get out of the car!"

I rubbed my eyes, staying put. "I'm too tired to get up. Why did you insist that we get here this early?"

He opened my door, reaching over me and unbuckling my seatbelt. Despite my efforts of clinging onto

the car seat, Christopher managed to rip me out from his convertible.

"For the fifth time, the waves are better in the morning."

Now that my ankle had gotten better, Christopher insisted that the first thing I did was learn how to surf,

like I promised. I tried my hardest to talk my way out of it, but he was persistent.

"Why are you so gung-ho over me surfing with you?"

He walked to the backseat of the car, picking out two surfboards and a bag from his trunk. "First, no

one says gung-ho anymore."

Really?

"And two, surfing is actually fun when you get the hang of it. I bet you that by the time you learn you're

going to like it more than me."

"I highly doubt that."

He didn't respond after that. Instead, he started making his way towards the shore. He had parked near

the beach, and it was deserted due to the time of day. There were only a few surfers littered in the

ocean. We had just come at sunrise, and the view took my breath away. The sky was a mix of orange

and pink hues, all forming together into one beautiful sky. We walked in silence, each of us taking it in.

When we reached the shore he reached into his bag and threw an article of clothing at my chest. "Put

this on."

I held it up in front of me, inspecting it. It looked like a waterproof, skintight, onesie. He must have seen

the confusion on my face, because he explained what it was.

"That's a wetsuit. You're supposed to put it over your swimsuit to keep you warm." I nodded my head

as he took off his shirt, before slipping his legs into his own suit. I managed to get a good look at his

bare upper body, and nearly choked when I saw his defined abs. I quickly looked away, afraid that he

would spot me.

I turned away from him, taking off my t-shirt and jean shorts to reveal my bikini underneath. All that I

had were one-piece bathing suits, so Sam leant me one of hers. I told her that I was fine with my own,

but according to her I looked like a grandma going to water aerobics.

Sam was much smaller than me, so the bathing suit was way too tight. I blushed, quickly putting my

legs into the wet suit. I left the top part of the suit off, like he did, so that the sleeves were dangling from

my waist and my upper body was exposed. When I turned around to face him, I noticed that his eyes

were on me. He quickly looked away, but not before I caught it.

"Okay," he said, coughing. "Here's your first lesson." He picked up the surfboard next to him and laid it

on the sand. He then threw a piece of wax to me. I fumbled with it before finally catching it. "Wax the

board."

"Why?"

He let out a huff. "Just do it."

"I didn't know that Nike had a new spokesperson," I mumbled underneath my breath.

"I heard that."

Once I had finished rubbing the wax on the surfboard, I turned towards him, waiting for him to tell me

what to do next.

"Now lay on your stomach on the board." I did what he said as he stood over me. "You have to arch

you back off it."

"Like this?" He shook his head, before kneeling beside me. He placed his hand on the small of my

back, his cold hand against my warm skin causing me to shiver.

"You have to keep this part of your back pressed down," he then placed his hand on my shoulder,

gently lifting it. "And keep your chest lifted. Like that."

I let in a ragged breath, hoping that he didn't notice. Just contact from him was enough to make my

heart beat faster.

Get it together Brielle.

"You're going to paddle in this position, and then when the time is right, pop yourself up and stand." He

showed me how to do it, before making me do it for what felt like a hundred times. When my arms felt

like spaghetti, he finally let me in the water.

We both got on a surfboard as we paddled into the ocean, waiting for a wave to form. To pass the time,

I turned towards him. "So why did you start surfing?"

He looked behind us, checking to see if a wave was coming. "Surfing was always my oldest sister

Bianca's thing. She dragged me one day and after that I really liked it."

"Yea, well don't expect that to happen with me."

"Don't worry," he flashed me an award-winning smile. It wasn't fair how white his teeth were. "It will."

Just then, a wave started to form behind us. He began paddling, before pushing himself off his board

until he was standing, riding the wave. It was almost mesmerizing. He looked completely at peace,

gliding through water. The sight alone made me excited to learn, even though I would never tell him

that. When he returned to me, he shook out his hair, splashing me with water.

"Your turn."

****

Two hours and many failed attempts later, I was pretty much ready to give up. I didn't know how

Christopher made it look so easy, but it wasn't. At all. Christopher seemed to have given up on me too,

because he had returned his surfboard back to his car and was now sitting on the shore. Whenever I

wanted to quit, he would force me back out, claiming that he wanted to give up when he first started

too.

One bad wipeout later, I had finally reached my breaking point. "I'm not kidding Christopher I give up!" I

yelled trying to get him to hear me.

"Just one more!" He shouted. I rolled my eyes. If one more stupid wave was going to allow him to let

me quit, then it was worth it. I began paddling towards the wave before pushing myself up.

However, this time, it felt different, like everything had aligned perfectly. As I stood up, I felt one with the

ocean, soaring across the water. The wave crashed on the other side of me, causing me to be encased

in a tube of water.

What was probably seconds felt like forever as I held onto the moment, not wanting to let it go. When I

finally jumped off my surfboard, I looked to the shore to see Christopher jumping up and down,

cheering for me. An adrenaline rush hit me as I paddled towards the shore, discarding my surfboard

once I reached it.

I ran up to him, a big smile on my face. He held his arms out to me, and I jumped into them, wrapping

my legs around his waist as he spun me in a circle. After our excitement had subsided, I realized what I

was doing.

I'm straddling Christopher!

He must have had the same realization because his eyes grew wide. I quickly jumped off him, my

cheeks flushing with red.

"Sorry, I was just really excited," I rambled on. "I really shouldn't have jumped on you like that. And your

dating Melanie, so it especially isn't cool and-"

I stopped talking once I spotted the giant smile on his face. "You're cute when you're flustered."

Did he just call me cute?

Before I could react, he kept going. "Melanie isn't an issue. She and I broke up."

I rolled my eyes. Melanie and Christopher broke up and got back together every other day. "I give this

breakup a week."

He began to speak, his voice full of conviction, "I'm not kidding this time. She's different lately. She's

been acting really-"

I cut him off. "Crazy, insane, psychotic?"

He laughed. "I was going to say jealous."

I scoffed. Melanie was the most popular girl in school and her parents were loaded. "Who in the world

is she jealous of?"

"You."

"Me?" I sputtered, dumbfounded. "Why would she be jealous of me?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "She thinks that we spend too much time together. I tried to tell her

that we're just friends but she wouldn't listen."

For some reason there was a pang in my chest once I heard that word. Friends. That's what I wanted

us to be. So why did it hurt so much leaving from his mouth?

"I tried to tell her that I don't think of you like that. You're not my type."

I tried not to be offended as the pang in my chest returned. "Why is that?"

"You're just different."

No girl wants to be called different or not someone's type. It made me feel like some gross, ugly sea

creature that had un-dateable stamped on its forehead. Even if I didn't want to date Christopher, the

fact that he feels this way about me was still hurtful.

He must have read my facial expression because he quickly corrected himself.

"Different in a good way. You don't care about all the things that most girls do like fashion and drama.

All you care about is your family and dance." He wiped his hair from over his eyes. "I'm kind of jealous

of that. You don't care about all the stupid stuff that the rest of us do."

"So why don't you just stop caring?"

He looked off towards the ocean as the waves crashed against the shore. "I wish it was that easy."

"You wish for a lot of things."

He locked eyes with me. "What's your point?"

"Not to be blunt, but stop wishing for things and just do them, you know?" He seemed to be deep in

thought after I said that. I tried to lighten the mood, hoping that I didn't upset him.

"I would say that you're different from all the guys I've met but that would be a lie." I joked.

A hint of a playful smile formed on his lips. "Take that back."

"Make me."

Before I could turn around and run he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He lifted his hand

up to my armpit and began tickling me.

"Stop!" I yelled in between laughs. "Put me down!"

"Take what you said back."

I was about to put up a fight, but my stomach was so sore from laughing that I gave up. "You're

different! Are you happy now!"

He continued tickling me. "I'm still not convinced."

I was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face. I didn't know if it was possible to die

from laughing, but if so, I imagined that it would be something like this.

"Okay, fine! You are the most different person that I've ever met. No one in the world can compare to

you. On a scale of one to one-of-a-kind you're up there. Now put me down!"

That seemed to be good enough for him because he finally set me down. He had a smirk on his face,

happy with his victory. I wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug look off his face.

I put my hands over my eyes as I shook my shoulders, pretending to cry. Peeking through my fingers, I

saw a genuine look of concern in his eyes.

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"Are you okay Brielle? I was just joking."

I uncovered my face, the tears I had from laughing now looked like tears of sadness. "Yea, I'm fine." I

wiped the tears off my face with the back of my hand.

A smile suddenly broke onto my face as I reached into the back pocket of his shorts, pulling out his car

keys. I took off towards the parking lot, yelling at him over my shoulders.

"I just wanted to drive your convertible home without you!"

"You're dead, Brielle!" he called out, grabbing my surfboard from the beach and sprinting towards me. I

was nearly at the car, and almost screamed when I looked back and saw that he was right behind me. I

reached for the door, but before I could open it he placed a hand on either side of my head, pinning me

against the car.

I turned around to face him, his face just inches away from mine. He moved in closer to me, his body

nearly pressing against mine.

In between his panting, he huskily whispered, "Game over." However, my attention was no longer on

his stolen car keys.

The moment that my eyes locked onto his, the realization hit me like a truck. No matter how much I

tried to convince myself otherwise, I now knew.

I was hopelessly, undoubtedly crushing on Christopher Russel.