Don't Hate the Player

by Shelby Elizabeth

People can abuse you if they can read you. Better to leave them questioning what you’re feeling.

I can’t let myself start to fall in love with someone who couldn’t possibly love me back.

He smiles, a full smile, and my heart picks up its pace. He so rarely offers this smile, and in this moment I know I’m the one to have prompted it

I’m not even looking at him, there’s something in the space between us that almost feels electric.

my cheeks flame even higher when I realize I just thought he was handsome, and that I can’t deny I think so, and my heart beats a little harder and faster . . . man, I’m a wreck.

I shouldn’t let myself hold him, but I have to. At this moment, it isn’t a simple want or desire. It’s a physical need. I know if I don’t hold onto him, something inside me will fall apart, and I’m not sure if it can be put back together.

The first time I met Mrs. Benson, this kind of attention and affection hurt me as much as it healed. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Now it just feels like love.

“If so much of what I do is stupid, why are you always right beside me?”

Why am I always right beside you, Jack? it asks, and yearns to speak. Because you do need supervision sometimes, you’re so innocent. Because you make me feel good and whole. And the loudest answer: Because I hate spending time away from you.

Eli and I were on the ground, tangled up together, his amazing laugh turning my insides liquid. Boy, I have it bad.

“It’s your fault, really,” Eli whispers. “I was distracted by you.” His voice is so soft, so vulnerable, I’m not sure if I imagine it. It takes me a second to realize he thinks I’m already asleep. I crack open my eyes to see him resting against the seat, almost asleep himself. Eli’s head dips closer to mine, hovers like he’s trying to stay upright, then lands on my shoulder. A soft, relaxed sigh escapes him. It’s one of the most peaceful sounds I’ve ever heard, and I let my eyes slide closed again, warm, sluggish butterflies flitting around in my chest.

telling me something I won’t admit to and immediately deny. You love him, you love him, you love him.

I’d been about to say it’s a date. It’s not a date, though. It’s just like what we did tonight. Our usual, hanging out. We’re going to study a bit.

“I didn’t think you could want me,” I admit.

His hand tightens on my shirt, clenching into a fist. “How could I not want you?” “I’m used to not being wanted.”

I know when I started hating you. What I can’t tell is when I started loving you, too. And when that hate vanished.”

know it vanished, with how quickly I fell for you. Maybe I never hated you at all.”

It’s your personality. You’re so warm and vibrant, full of energy. I can’t help but feel better when I’m around you. You’re my sun.”