Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game (9 page)

When she and I sat down at the table, I held up a
hand. “Can we not talk about Jake anymore?”

“Sure honey.”

Relief momentarily flooded me as I took a giant bite
of chicken. My elevated mood was only short lived when Grammy went
for the throat with another question. “So, whatcha think about
Greg?”

I kept my eyes firmly on my plate. Greg was my mom’s
new boyfriend. Well, he wasn’t actually new. They’d been dating for
almost a year—she’d waited several months before she sprang him on
me. Her excuse was she wanted to make sure they were serious first,
but I didn’t buy it. He was an anesthesiologist at the hospital. In
all honesty, he was one of the few boyfriends Mom had had in the
almost eighteen years since my dad. I guess the old Sperm Donor had
left a bad taste in her mouth for quite a while when it came to men
and dating.

“Didn’t you hear me, Noah?”

I fought the urge to snap at Grammy. The last thing I
wanted to do before Jake’s visitation was to talk about my mom’s
boyfriend. “Yes, I heard you.”

“And?”

“He’s fine,” I grumbled.

Grammy harrumphed. “By the way you’re actin’, you’d
think your mama was datin’ the devil himself. Greg seems like a
pretty nice fella.”

“Yeah, he’s a real peach.” I glanced up from
cornbread to see Grammy giving me the stare down. I sighed. “I
don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve probably been with Greg
six or seven times since Mom introduced us at Christmas. Whenever
I’ve been with him, he seems nice. Okay?”

She responded by tapping her fork on her plate. “What
if they were serious?”

I furrowed my brows. “Serious?” I pondered. “You mean
like
marriage
serious?”

“Yeah, that kinda serious.”

Suddenly, Grammy’s usually mouth-watering chicken
wedged in my throat, and I had to take a long gulp of iced tea not
to choke. The thought of my mom getting married to Greg or anyone
else for that matter wigged me out completely. It’d always been
just the two of us against the world, and after all this time, I
couldn’t imagine her being anyone’s wife. Now that I thought about
it, she did seem to be spending more and more time with Greg.
Whenever he was over, Greg seemed crazy about her. Well, I could
have lived without the fact he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off
of her. That was pretty disgusting.

Grammy stared expectantly at me for an answer. After
I swigged some of her sugary sweet tea, I shrugged. “I guess it
would be fine.”

She slowly shook her head. “Noah Andrew Sullivan,
when are you goin’ to stop lyin’ to me—better yet when are you
going to stop lyin’ to yourself?”

My fork clattered noisily onto my plate. “Grammy,” I
started calmly, trying to keep my temper in check so she wouldn’t
ride my ass. “I would really appreciate you dropping the subject of
Greg considering the shi—the stuff I’m going through right now. I
mean, isn’t it enough I have go to the funeral home for…” I broke
off when my voice wavered at the thought of Jake being connected to
Whitfield’s.

She sighed. “I’ve raised five boys, Noah. I’ve seen
evah range of emotion possible since all of my boys are different
in their own way. Life is hard, but it’s even harder when you don’t
wanna face it.”

“But I am facing things,” I protested.

“Facin’ means acknowledgement and acceptance.” She
shook her head. “You’re not there yet, baby.”

Suddenly, my favorite meal wasn’t so tasty anymore. I
put my napkin on my plate and stood up from the table. Knowing how
she was a stickler for manners, I said, “Excuse me, Grammy, but
I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait, you can’t go yet,” she hopped up from the
table and hurried over the countertop. “I want you to take this
cake to the Nelson’s for me.”

“I think you did enough last night,” I argued.

Grammy waved her hand dismissively at me. “Grieving
bodies need fuel.”

My heart constricted a little in my chest when she
lifted the lid on the ancient Tupperware container. It was her
signature chocolate cake, and it was Jake’s favorite. She always
made him one for his birthday. Even without closing my eyes, I
could see him perched on a stool at the bar with a mixture of a
chocolate and milk mustache smeared across his face—even when he
was seventeen.

I took the cake from her. “Thanks, Grammy. I’m sure
the Nelson’s will really appreciate this. And thanks for cooking
dinner for me.” Giving her a weak smile, I added, “I really needed
it.”

Grammy smiled. “I know you did, sweetheart.” She held
the door open for me, and then hurried out to my jeep to open the
passenger side door. I eased the cake down on the floorboard. I
wasn’t about to tell Grammy that I wasn’t going in the funeral home
with a cake in my hands. That was the last thing my reputation
needed. I doubted anyone would wait around long enough for me to
explain my grandmother had baked it. I’d already decided I’d wait
until the crowd died down to give it to Jonathan or Jason.

After kissing Grammy goodbye, I buckled my seatbelt.
With a heavy heart, I started my pilgrimage over to Whitfield’s.
The parking lot was packed when I pulled in. It was quite a
difference than last night when Maddie and I had come to drop off
Jake’s things. I eased into a space next to a SUV full of football
players. “Noah!” they called as soon as I hopped out of the
Jeep.

“Hey guys,” I said. I glanced around the parking lot.
“You all waiting on somebody?”

The four hefty full-backs eyed each other before
staring down at the pavement. “Uh, no,” Paul Monroe muttered.

At any other time, it might have been remotely funny
that four hulking football players were afraid to go in a funeral
home. But I think I’d left my sense of humor back at Grammy’s.

“Yeah, well, I think I’ll go on in,” I said.

They nodded. As I started to the side door, I heard a
scuffle behind me. The guys were following me.

The moment I opened the door, I cringed. Weeping
wafted out of the viewing room into the corridor. I took a deep
breath and pushed on through the doorway.

Jason and Jonathan were stationed at the double doors
leading into the room with Jake’s urn. They looked quite different
than how I’d seen them earlier in the afternoon. Their dark hair
was slicked back, and they were wearing our “planned” outfits along
with a black suit jacket.

A line formed out of the room and down the hallway.
Kids from all groups of the Creekview caste system were lined up to
pay their respects. The guy in front of me had dyed black hair and
a studded dog collar on.

When Jonathan saw me, he motioned me forward. I felt
kinda shitty cutting in line at a funeral home, but I did it
anyway.

The crying got louder the closer I got to the room.
It came together like a tragic symphony of sobs, sniffling, and
rattling tissues.

I craned my neck to find Mrs. Nelson. She was weaving
erratically around the room. One minute she would be laughing with
someone after they shared a funny story about Jake, then in an
instant like flicking on a switch, she was sobbing hysterically.
Whenever she did that, Mr. Nelson would obediently go to her side.
As if he could sense it, his hand would hover at the small of her
back until she was overcome. Then he would catch her just before
she slumped into the floor.

Jason must have noticed me eyeing his mom’s behavior.
He eased over to me and lowered his voice. “She’s tripping on
Valium and Xanex—it’s the only way we could get her here.”

“And a shot of PawPaw’s White Lightning,” Jonathan
muttered, after the woman he’d been speaking to walked away.

“Wait, he gave her some of that shit?” Jason
questioned.

Jonathan nodded grimly. “You were in the shower, I
think. I took a spoon full, but she drank a half a cup.”

“Fuck me,” Jason murmured as he shook his head and
stared in awe at his mother. “It’s a wonder she’s even still
standing after all that. PawPaw’s moonshine is some serious
shit.”

“You got that right,” I seconded. The most plastered
I’d ever been was after drinking a Dixie cup of that stuff at
Jake’s grandparents. After spending half the night puking my guts
up, I spent the next day practically paralyzed in bed. Whatever it
is, those hillbillies sure put some potent shit in there.

The rest of the night seemed to pass in a blur of
faces. Like a third brother, I stood with Jonathan and Jason
greeting people. It made sense because everybody from school and
even Jake’s family knew me as well. After a while, my hand started
cramping up from shaking so many hands.

It was about eight when Maddie and Pastor Dan showed
up. Maddie’s dark hair was swept away from her face in a
twist—making her solemn dark eyes glistening with tears stand out
all the more. She was wearing a straight black dress that should’ve
been demure, but to my horny teenage self, it hugged every one of
her curves and showed off her fabulous legs. Just as soon as those
thoughts went through my mind, I wanted to smack myself. I mean,
who the hell is a horndog at his dead best friend’s wake? Deep down
knowing Jake, he would have appreciated my thoughts.

After she and Pastor Dan inched forward in the line,
she caught my eye by the doorway. She smiled. “Hi Noah.”

“Hi Maddie,” I said.

We stood awkwardly next to each other—unsure who
should make a move and what that move should be. Finally, I stepped
forward and briskly hugged her.

She stared past me to where Mrs. Nelson was weeping.
“How’s she holding up?”

I shook my head. “Not good.”

“Poor thing,” she murmured. She turned back to Pastor
Dan. “Daddy, you should go to her. Do something for her,” Maddie
urged.

“Sure honey.” He bobbed his head at me. “Excuse me,
Noah.’ Like me, he cut in line to go and comfort Mrs. Nelson. No
one seemed to mind, or at least they weren’t going to call out a
minister for line jumping.

Across the room from Jake’s mom, tension hung heavy
in the air between Avery and Presley. It looked like two rival
gangs had set up territory in the room adjoining the urn. You had
Avery and her fellow Ice Princesses—the girls who usually rounded
out the Homecoming Court. The girls that no one for the life of
them could explain how they were popular since no one liked them.
Then you had Presley’s group—girls whose popularity came from being
popular with the guys.

Ironically, as much as each group was staring daggers
at the other, their anger seemed to unite when Maddie entered the
room. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own
eyes. As Maddie embraced Mrs. Nelson, a flurry of conversation went
up among the two groups.

It was like one of those moments when people are
talking about something, and you have no clue what they’re talking
about. The more you hang around, the more you feel completely out
of the loop, and you start to wonder what the hell is wrong with
you.

I stared as I watched these two groups of the social
elite annihilate sweet, innocent, Honors program Maddie Parker with
their eyes. I couldn’t imagine why they hated her for being Jake’s
friend and tutor.

I eased over close to Avery’s group—desperately
trying to hear their conversation.

“Look at her acting like she and Mrs. Nelson are
united in their grief? I mean, who does she think she is?” one of
the girls snapped.

“I’ll never understand what Jake saw in her or why he
wanted to be friends with her. I mean, look at her—she’s so not his
type!”

“Totally pathetic.”

Another girl nodded in agreement. “Do you remember
how whenever we had a party, he always made us invite her—even
though we knew Daddy’s little angel would never come?”

Avery snorted. “Thank God she only transferred in
last year. Can you imagine what it would have been like to have had
to put up with Jake and her all these years?”

What the hell? That funny feeling crept over me again
like I’d missed the great secret. Jake had never mentioned inviting
Maddie to parties to me. But then again by senior year, I’d refused
to attend most of the parties because I’d always end up plastered
with some girl puking on me. Sometimes you can only have so much
fun doing that. have too much fun.

I inched across the room to get the opposite verdict.
Maddie was talking to Mr. Nelson as the slutty girls sized her up.
Once again, the issue was what Jake had seen in her.

“I heard she was a virgin,” one of the girls
hissed.

Presley rolled her eyes. “Oh get serious, Melody. Of
course she’s a virgin! That was her whole allure for Jake—the
conquest. I guarantee you if he’d lived, he would’ve tapped that
ass by graduation.”

“How can you be so sure? Maddie’s one of those
ultimate goody two-shoe girls.”

“I’m surprised she doesn’t wear one of those dorky
purity rings.”

Presley’s eyed narrowed at Maddie. “Trust me girls. I
know what I’m talking about. Besides, Jake could charm the panties
off anyone!” She gazed around the group. “Am I right?”

All four girls nodded in unison. It put me to
wondering if Maddie was the only girl in the entire room Jake
hadn’t slept with. Well, he and Avery had originally slept
together, but then she’d told him she couldn’t handle a physical
relationship with him. So, basically, he dated her for appearances
while being serviced by other girls. I guess it was a win/win
situation for both of them.

While I half-heartedly listened to the conversations
floating around me, I couldn’t help the anxious feeling in my gut.
Most of the girls in Jake’s life fit into very black and white
areas. But I couldn’t help worrying that with Maddie, there was
some grey area. She’d seen parts of Jake that hardly anyone
saw—that had to mean something. I just wondered if it meant she was
her
—the one who the ring belonged to. It was almost too
farfetched to even wonder, let alone believe it could be real. But
if the last twenty-four hours had proven anything to me, it was to
expect the unexpected.