For the Save (Playing for Keeps #4)

by Amber Garza

  When my mom first brought it home I’d been an impressionable middle schooler, and I was pretty upset. I refused to get inside the first morning she drove me to school in it. Not until she’d threatened to take away my video game system did I finally hop into the passenger seat with a huge groan. But by the time the van got passed down to me, I was over it. The van and its nickname had grown on me.

  After hopping into the driver’s seat, my phone buzzed from inside my pocket. I glanced down at it, reading the text on the screen. It was from Holden. We were practicing today, and I was late. No one except my parents knew I attended these meetings, and I sure as hell didn’t plan to share it with anyone. Especially Holden. Not because I thought he’d be a jerk about it. Mostly because I didn’t want him to see me as weak. From what I could see, Holden was coping with the loss of Ryan better than I was. And that made me feel a little embarrassed. It had been months since the shooting, and I wondered why I couldn’t get past it. Then again, Holden had his girlfriend Chloe to help him. She had a calming effect on him. I longed for someone like that in my life.

  Holden had been Ryan’s best friend. They had a partnership on the football field that I envied. Actually, I’d envied a lot about both of their abilities. Holden was the best quarterback I’d ever played with, and Ryan’s speed and agility was unmatched. Ryan and I both played wide receiver, but I’d never tricked myself into thinking I was better than him. And Ryan and Holden had a connection during the game that I’d never experienced. However, since Ryan’s death, Holden and I had started getting pretty close. He’d had his arm broken during the shooting when he tried to take Preston down in an effort to save Chloe. It was pretty damn ballsy. The rest of us were too scared to do anything, but Holden risked his life to save his girl. And he had saved her. Too bad it came at a price. And it cost him his last high school football season.

  To make sure he was well enough to play in college, we’d been meeting every spare moment we could to throw the football around. Even though it was winter, the weather here in Northern California was pretty nice. We’d hardly had any rain this winter. It would suck come summertime when the lake would be too low to boat on, but it was awesome right now because it meant that Holden and I could meet at the park to practice.

  I shot him off an apology text. Made up some excuse about family obligations, and then I hurried out of the parking lot. The truth is, that as dumb as it sounded, I felt like the group was helping. It wasn’t the quick fix I’d been hoping for, but the couple of times I’d attended the weight that constantly sat on my chest seemed to ease up a little bit, and I was able to breathe a little easier. I couldn’t explain why. It wasn’t like there was anything special about the group, but for some reason being around other people who’d experienced the same kind of loss as me made me feel like I would be all right. Maybe all I needed was to know that I wasn’t alone.

  That’s why I was so excited to see Addison there. So far I hadn’t run into anyone I knew from school at the group. Which kind of surprised me, especially since I knew the group was started as a result of the shooting. I think a couple of John’s friends were there, but I didn’t know him or his friends. They were younger than me. I knew the minute I saw Addison that she wasn’t there because of the shooting. Word of her brother’s death had spread fast, and I didn’t remember even seeing her the day of the shooting. Still, I had hoped that Addison and I could chat, maybe commiserate about our shared loss and pain. But it was immediately clear that she wasn’t open to that. She was about as cold as a cube of ice, and I wasn’t sure there was enough heat in the world to melt through it.

  Pulling into the parking lot of the park, I spotted Holden sitting on a bench waiting for me. After cutting the engine, I hopped out and hurried toward him.

  “Sorry, man,” I said.

  “No problem. I know how moms can be.” He stood and flashed me a knowing smile. In his hand he palmed a football. I chuckled. Holden’s mom had always been known as the strict one, so I knew he’d bought my lie. It made me feel a little guilty but not bad enough to tell him the truth. “Normally I wouldn’t mind you being late, but I’m meeting Chloe after this.”

  “Hot date, huh?” I raised my brows.

  He shrugged. “Something like that.”

  My lips tugged at the corners. Holden had changed since he met Chloe. It’s funny, because I never noticed Chloe before Holden started dating her. She was new to the school and was in marching band. Not exactly the type of girl I was into. But now that I’d gotten to know her, I could see why Holden was so attracted to her. Not only was she pretty, but she was fun and outgoing. She also had a softness and humility to her that most of the chicks we hung with didn’t. She was certainly different than the girls Holden had dated previously. It was no surprise that he’d fallen so hard for her. I’d never wanted a serious relationship. Not in high school anyway. I figured I could wait until I was an adult before I settled for one girl. My parents didn’t have the greatest marriage. Sure, they were still together, and I was grateful for that, but they didn’t make marriage look like a fun adventure. More like something you endured, something you persevered through. Not something you took pleasure in. Therefore, I had no desire to tie myself up in something. I wanted to enjoy my freedom. Enjoy my life. But seeing Chloe and Holden together had challenged my thinking, and now I was starting to wonder if a relationship wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

  “Ready to get started then?” I asked, heading toward an open space of grass.

  “I sure am.” Holden followed me, the football cradled in his hand.

  My feet sank into the damp grass with each step. When we got in position on the field, Holden shot the ball to me. It came at me fast and hard, but I caught it. His arm was as good as before he broke it, almost like he’d never been injured. We only had to come out a few times before he was throwing like before. I had no doubt he’d play well in college. At the thought, jealousy coursed through my veins.

  I used to dream of attending college, but I struggled to maintain decent grades all through high school. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the smarts. I didn’t have the dedication, I guess. A fact which pissed my parents off to no end. The emphasis they put on grades used to bug the hell out of me. However I saw their point.now that all my friends were going away to college and I had to stay here to attend junior college. Especially because I knew if I stayed here I’d be constantly plagued with unwanted memories. What I wouldn’t give to get the hell out of here. To go to college like Holden and play football in a place that didn’t remind me of pain and death. But it was too late. There was no way to fix four years of poor grades in one semester.

  I tossed the ball back to Holden and got in position. This time when he threw it I had to run to catch it. My feet slid on the grass as I hurried in its direction. Lunging forward, I caught it in my arms.

  “Nice,” Holden called out.

  “Thanks.” I smiled. Holden was a good guy, and I was glad that we’d connected recently. I only wished it had happened sooner. For the past few years, I’d been closer to Ryan than Holden. And by the time Holden and I started hanging out, he was injured and no longer playing for our team. Pulling my arm back, I released the ball into Holden’s waiting arms.

  “Too bad the season’s over,” I told him as he geared up to throw the ball again. “We sure could’ve used your arm.”

  After tossing it to me, Holden shook his head. “I know. It sucks.”

  With Holden and Ryan we had been winning every game. But after Ryan died and Holden was injured, we started losing most games. It was a shitty way to end my senior year of playing, but I felt like a jerk when I mentioned it. Our football season paled in comparison to the fact that people had lost their lives. Crazy how death puts things in perspective. I think it drove home how much things had changed. How one moment in time can alter everything.

  CHAPTER 3

  Addison

  Mom would kill me if she knew I was here. But that didn’t
stop me from sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night. She was dead asleep when I left the house anyway. Mom was the heaviest sleeper I knew. She could sleep through anything. Therefore, I knew she’d never notice I was gone. Besides, I wasn’t scared of her. No punishment she could dole out would be worse than the nightmare my life had become.

  I’d already lost my brother and my dad. Lost my sense of security, my innocence, my happiness. There wasn’t much else to take.

  It was dark, but that didn’t bother me. There weren’t many people who would be comfortable hanging out in the cemetery in the middle of the night. In fact, when I was younger I never would have set foot in it. I’d always had an active imagination, and I’d watched way too many horror films. Back then when I passed a cemetery a chill would run up my spine. I’d picture dead bodies clawing their way out of the ground, ghosts soaring above the gravestones.

  But it didn’t seem scary to me anymore.

  Life was scary to me. Flesh and blood frightened me more than dead bodies lying in the ground. They couldn’t hurt me. Not the way my reality could. When I was here amidst the statues and headstones, I felt oddly at peace. When I sat in the grass in front of my brother’s grave I could finally breathe. My chest expanded, my shoulders relaxed. It was the only place I could be myself. The only place I could share how I felt. The only place it was safe to cry.

  At home I feared Mom would catch me. Then she’d want to have some damn heart-to-heart. I understood where her need came from, but I wasn’t in a place to open up to her. Hell, I wasn’t in a place to open up to anyone.

  But here there was no one to catch me. The dead couldn’t talk. But they could listen. I could talk until I was blue in the face and no one could interrupt me. Sometimes I imagined Ben pressing his palms to his ears when I talked. I imagined him begging me to shut up, the way he did when he was alive. Often, the thought kept me talking. If only he really would rise from the grave and yell at me. Call me an annoying brat. I hated when he said that when he was alive, but I’d give anything to hear him say it now.

  But he never did.

  The cemetery stayed silent except for the sounds of the wind rustling through the leaves and the cars driving by in the distance. Bending my legs and tucking them close to my body, I rested my chin on my knees. A cool breeze blew over me, lifting the ends of my hair and whipping a few strands into my face. Reaching up, I wiped them away and shivered slightly. I tugged my jacket tight around my body.

  “Hey, Ben,” I spoke into the night sky. “Mom made me go to that damn grief counseling group today. Remember the one I told you about last time I visited? Well, it sucked as much as I thought it would.” I wrinkled my nose. “And it’s totally your fault that I had to go. When you were alive you were always making me do things I didn’t want to, like listen to that stupid rap music you liked, or order pepperoni pizza even though I wanted combo. And even though you’re gone, you’re still making me do things I don’t want to.” Anger surged through me. “In fact, it’s because of you that my whole world sucks right now. It’s your fault that Mom is all depressed and sad, and it’s because of you…” I sighed, my lips trembling. “It’s because of you I lost Dad.” A tear slipped down my face, and I frantically brushed it away. I may have been able to cry here, but that didn’t mean I wanted to. Crying had never been my thing. Mom was a crier. She’d get all weepy during sappy romance movies. I even caught her crying at a hallmark commercial once. It took a lot more than a movie or commercial to make me cry. In fact, Ben used to tease me that I wasn’t really a girl. That I had ice in my veins, a hollow heart. But he said it affectionately. He liked that I was tough. I may have dressed girly. I may have painted my nails and curled my hair, but I could keep up with the guys if I wanted.

  Now I wondered if that had been a mistake. Maybe Ben didn’t worry about leaving me because he thought I could handle it. If I’d been needier would he have stayed? I guess I’d never know. I often contemplated all of the things we could have done differently, but in the end I had no idea why Ben killed himself. Maybe I never would. He didn’t leave a note. And none of us had any indication he was about to take his life. Even his friends seemed baffled.

  How did all of us miss the signs?

  It didn’t make sense to me, and I was convinced that someone knew something. Somebody had answers, and I planned to figure it out. If it was the last thing I did, I would find out who knew what happened to Ben that night. Finding out the truth was the only thing that mattered to me. I was convinced it was the only thing that would bring me peace.

  A twig snapped. My head bounced up, my pulse spiking. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I turned around. A dark figure approached. I inhaled sharply, folding in on myself like a book as it closes.

  “Addison?” The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. As he came closer, moonlight sliced across his face, giving me a clear glimpse. Familiar irritation surfaced. What was he doing here?

  “Are you stalking me, Sawyer?” Hoisting myself off the ground, I wiped dirt of the back of my pants with my hands.

  “I could ask you the same thing.” His eyes twinkled in the darkness.

  “Only I was here first.” I crossed my arms over my chest, bobbing my head down to my brother’s gravestone. “And as you can see, I was here for a purpose.”

  “So was I.” Lifting his arm, he pointed toward a nearby gravesite. Flowers and football memorabilia were strewn around it. My insides coiled. No one left anything on my brother’s grave, and he was a hell of a lot better than Ryan. Still, I felt bad for jumping all over Sawyer. Clearly he was here visiting his friend.

  “I didn’t realize the two of you were so close.” Truth is, I would have expected to see Holden here, if anyone. He and Ryan had been best friends for a long time. It was a little surprising that Sawyer was the one taking Ryan’s death so hard.

  A storm raged inside of Sawyer’s eyes. “I was sitting next to him when he was shot.”

  My stomach knotted. That’s right. He had mentioned that in the group today. Now it made sense. I nodded. “Does it help?”

  He furrowed his brows. “What?”

  “Coming here.” If it helped Sawyer, maybe there was hope for me.

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  Hope withered, and I frowned.

  “But I figure someone needs to come by and check on him. Make sure he’s still here and not causing trouble. You know Ryan. If there’s a way his ghost could escape and haunt people, he’ll do it.” A light chuckle escaped.

  I smiled. This was the Sawyer I was familiar with, and for some reason his joke loosened some of the tightness in my chest. For a moment it was like I’d gone back in time. Back to when things were normal. But then my surroundings came back into focus. We were in the middle of a cemetery. My life was unraveling.

  Nothing was normal, and no amount of joking could change that.

  Wrapping my arms around my middle, I hugged myself. “Well, I better go.” Ducking my head, I moved around him.

  “Wait,” he called after me.

  I spun around.

  “I didn’t mean to run you off.” He stepped closer to me. His smell was unfamiliar, and I couldn’t quite place it. Almost like a mixture of wood and leather. “Stay.”

  Biting my lip, I shook my head. “It’s fine. I need to get home anyway.”

  “I could use the company,” Sawyer said. “Ryan’s not much of a talker.”

  My heart softened a little. No one reached out to me anymore. At first my friend’s tried. They’d call and text, even stopped by my house a few times. But after a couple of weeks of freezing them out, they gave up. It was what I wanted, but it still hurt. I guess deep down I thought I meant more to them than that. I didn’t think it would be so easy to toss me aside. However, when I noted the hope in Sawyer’s eyes, the walls I’d carefully built around my heart flew up. I couldn’t afford to let anyone in right now. Besides, I was dead inside. Sawyer needed more than I could give.


  “I’m not much of a talker either. And I really have to go.” Flashing him an apologetic look, I whirled around and hurried out of the cemetery. I heard him holler out a goodbye, but I didn’t acknowledge it. The last thing I needed to do was make him think we’d forged a friendship, because we hadn’t. We may have run into each other a couple of times, but it didn’t mean anything.

  I couldn’t be his friend right now.

  I couldn’t be anyone’s.

  CHAPTER 4

  Sawyer

  I couldn’t sleep.

  Not like that’s unusual. I hadn’t been able to sleep in weeks. And when I got too restless, I ended up here. So far visiting Ryan’s grave hadn’t given me the peace I yearned for. However, I kept finding myself here anyway. Almost like I was drawn by an unseen force. Sometimes it creeped me out, as if Ryan was the one calling me back here. In all my visits I’d never run into anyone else. And I never expected to. I didn’t imagine there were many people who wanted to hang out in a cemetery in the middle of the night. Before Ryan died, I’d only been here a few times, and all of those had been dares.

  In fact, one time had been with Ryan. We’d been out partying in a field nearby and Ryan started telling scary ghost stories. Holden had been there, and I remember him teasing Ryan, explaining that we weren’t little boys. As teenagers we didn’t believe in ghosts. So Ryan told him to prove it. And that’s when we all raided this place, dancing on gravestones and drinking beer under the trees. We made jokes about people’s names, and Ryan made a big show about calling out the dead and asking them to rise.

  Tonight the memory made me feel sick. Back then the dead were nothing more than names on granite. Now I knew some of them. Now it was personal. Now it was real. Too real. And I didn’t like it one bit.