Play With Me (Playing for Keeps #2)

“You’re damn right you are.” Sure, I was thinking it, but it’s Mikhail who speaks it. “I can’t wait for the day I’m paying to see you on Broadway, Jennie.”


Yuck, sounds terrifying. Do I like being center stage? Obviously; let me shine, baby. But also, let’s keep the shining to a time-limited and controlled atmosphere. Broadway comes with publicity, being stuck in the on position for far too long, things I’d rather avoid.

Mikhail prattles on about how fantastic we are, and I’m extra pleased when he remarks that kiss he suggested months ago isn’t needed between our chemistry and talent. He sends us home to rest, and Simon and I hit the sauna first for a quick steam. It’s amazing how quickly the knots begin to unfurl, but by the time I’m toweling off after my shower, I can barely keep my eyes open. I’m worried I’m going to curl up in Garrett’s lap and fall asleep when all I want to do is talk to him.

I pull a set of fresh clothes from my locker and dig my phone from my bag. Missed calls from Garrett sprinkled throughout the afternoon litter my screen, which is mostly how our days look lately. We almost never manage to catch each other, and I’ve found myself spending the majority of our fleeting video chats reacquainting myself with the way the skin around his eyes crinkles when he laughs, or how his mouth tilts, tugging up on the right side first before giving way to a full explosion, his striking blue-green eyes always so beautifully vulnerable and breathtaking, like a robin’s egg in the spring.

As I pull my sweater on, that bear emoji dances across my screen once more. I’m about to answer when I hear that awful, patronizing laugh, the one that makes me want to drag my nails down a chalkboard.

I tuck my phone in my pocket and sweep my hair over my shoulders before securing it in a knot. I smile forcefully at Krissy and the Ashleys.

“I spotted those UGGs and knew it must be you. You’re the only person I know who still wears those.”

“It’s snowing.” I yank the zipper of my bag closed and hook the strap over my shoulder. “They’re warm and comfy.”

“Ugly too.” She must think her giggle softens the blow, but it only pisses me off. She props her hip against the door frame, blocking my exit, and her friends look about as uncomfortable as I do. “Everyone’s going out tomorrow night after the show. Wanna come?”

“Really?” I can’t stop the eager way the word flies from my mouth, my fist tightening around the strap of my bag. A hopeful smile tugs at my lips, and my heart thuds with excitement.

“Of course. You never come out with us.”

“You’ve never asked me,” I remind her.

She dismisses me with a wave. “We’ve asked you plenty of times.”

They haven’t, actually, but—“Oh shit. Tomorrow? I can’t. It’s my brother’s birthday. We’re going to dinner after the show.”

“So come later. Meet us at the club.”

“I…” have a date. A real one. And though I’m sure he’d tell me to go, to make friends and have fun, I’d rather be with him. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Krissy’s eyes narrow. She’s really a beautiful girl. Shame she has the personality of a slimy, evil snail. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I have plans that I’m not going to reschedule.” I’m not in the mood to take her bait. I want to go home and spend the rest of the night with my best friend. So I give her a smile as I squeeze through the door and into the hall. “I’m free the rest of the weekend if you want to go out again. I’d love to celebrate with you guys.”

“When are you going to stop living in your brother’s shadow?”

The question stops me in my tracks, fingernails biting into my palm. There’s an angry tic in my jaw and a hard, fast gallop in my ears. Slowly, I spin back to Krissy and her lackeys. They look just as stunned at what she’s said. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Krissy lifts a brow, pinning her arms across her chest. “But then why would you ever want to stop living in his shadow? Being Carter Beckett’s sister has afforded you so many luxuries. A fancy apartment, an expensive car, a scholarship to an exclusive program, and a job offer most people could only dream of.” She’s got an inch on me, such a minuscule difference, but one that feels humongous when she looks down her nose at me as if I’m the smallest, most insignificant thing she’s ever encountered. “Becoming your own person would require you to work for something for once in your life. And that’s something I’m not sure you know how to do.”

My jaw clenches, the air in my lungs rattling against my rib cage. When her mouth tugs into that self-righteous smirk, a match lights inside me, igniting a fire so fierce there won’t be any survivors.

“Look at you,” she continues, soft and condescending. “You don’t even know how to think for yourself, do you?”

I used to want to disappear for Krissy. Hide all the special parts that made me me, yearning for acceptance. But I’ve come to realize I’m tired of hiding; nobody is worth disappearing for. Tough shit if she doesn’t want me the way I am; that’s exactly what I’m about to give her.

“I’m sorry, Krissy,” I murmur, closing the distance between us. “But I don’t speak dipshit.”

Her eyes blaze. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” I parrot back. When I take a step forward, she takes one back. “I cannot believe I ever wanted to be a part of your group. What would ever entice me to be friends with you? I am nothing like you. I used to think it was my fault, that I didn’t know how to make friends, that there must be something wrong with me. Now I know I just have fucking standards.” My gaze flicks to Ashley and Ashlee as they step away from Krissy like they want nothing to do with this. “You girls should think about getting some.”

“You’re a bitch,” Krissy spits. “The only reason anybody ever wants to be your friend is because of your brother.”

I used to think so, too, but I’m slowly learning there are people in my life who love me for exactly who I am and what I have to offer.

“My brother is funny as fuck, compassionate, and loves harder than anybody I know. I don’t blame people if they see what he has to offer and want to add another Beckett to their lives. Quite frankly, we kick fucking ass. But you…” I lift a brow, looking her over. “You know what you are, Krissy? You’re the type of girl who peaked in high school. Pretty enough, popular enough, with a cute enough boyfriend. You thought it could only go up from there. Then you stepped into the real world and realized you were only one of many. That you didn’t stand out the way you wanted to. That your version of enough wasn’t enough anymore. Everybody else grew up, but you’re stuck wishing for a life that doesn’t exist.”

Stalking toward her, I revel in the way she stumbles as she frantically tries to match each step, and I continue.

“You’re mean, nasty, miserable, and quite frankly, a solid six out of ten at best when it comes to dance.”

Krissy gasps. “Fuck you.”

“I used to wonder why you hated me, kept myself awake wondering how I could make myself better so you’d want to be my friend. But that’s impossible, isn’t it? You hate me because you’re nothing like me, but you wish you were. You’re jealous. You have the friends, the popularity, the army that follows you so recklessly, but you’re still miserable. My group may be small, but my people love me for exactly who I am, and who I am is something I refuse to change, not for you, and not for anyone.

“So, walk in my brother’s shadow? I don’t fucking think so. The only people who walk in shadows are those who follow you so blindly, who have no idea there’s a life out there that you’re not a part of, one that’s happier, with friendships so much more fulfilling than the ugly way you dictate yours.”

Krissy’s shallow breathing fills the hallway. “I hate you.”

“Guess what? I don’t give a fuck. Not anymore.”

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