Playing with Fire

Chapter 2

 “His every syllable flirted. Honestly, he kind of turned me on. I didn't even know that guys could turn me on-not, like, in real life”  - The Fault In Our Stars, now in theatres!

Chapter 2

It had been three full days since I had gotten hold of Marcus’s number, or potential numbers. Or it might not have been his number. Whatever. Those three nights hadn’t been the most peaceful, but at least it was less tortuous than thinking about my previous life, where I still belonged with my ex-group of friends.

Right now, it was the fourth night, however, and I was growing impatient.

It was incredibly easy to give out reasons on why I shouldn’t call: 1. Marcus was someone who was devoid of any tact, or even human-emotions. 2. I had never hated anyone upon the first five minutes of meeting them, but Marcus was an exception. 3. He was my boyfriend’s freaking brother, for God’s sake. 4. And even if he weren’t, it’s so very unladylike to call first. Like, what the hell?

And the sole reason on why I should call: 1. Because I wanted to. I freaking wanted to.

I bit on my lip, feeling my pride diminishing by the seconds. I hated to be a coward, but on the other hand, I hated to be a chaser.

The clock struck at six fifteen when all hope for self-respect flew away, and I dialed one of the numbers.

Failed Dreg.

I listened to the ringing sound, my heart sinking lower and lower as the gravity of my situation dawned upon me. Here I was, reaching out to my boyfriend’s brother. What kind of sick person was I!

And then I heard a click.

To say that my whole world snapped into a halt would be the understatement of the century. 

“I’m flying on heaven, man…,” the voice on the other hand sounded like someone was having a particularly good time. Like, shit your biggest piece of deuce kind of good time. I almost couldn’t catch what he was saying since there must be the rest of the world simultaneously talking around him. On top of all the noise, there was also what might be passed as ‘music’ blasting on the background. It took me a while to figure it out.

This guy was having a very illegal, very wild party over there.

“Where are you? Why are you not here?” the guy drawled.

I closed my eyes, trying to remember what Marcus sounded like. And then I hung up, blocked the number, deleted it and prayed for a good fifteen minutes that whoever he was would never attempt to contact me back.

That didn’t go well at all.

I looked at the second number. ‘Obnoxious Sociopath’.

Did I lack the self-respect to not call the second number after the obvious disaster of the first number? No. I did not.

Did I lack the self-restraint to do what my pride and my brain told me? Yes, my dastardly magnificent self did.

And so I called the second number, silently cursing myself for falling for Marcus’s games.

And then I heard his voice at the fourth ring.

“What?”

This time, I was so sure that it was him. Nobody could have sounded like that much of an entitled bastard with just a word.

“Marcus?” I called out hesitantly.

“Mmm,” he sounded like he was only half awake. “Yeah, that’s me.”