The Other Game

by J. Sterling

  Cassie pulled out her phone to glance at the time. “I’m gonna be late to class. I have to go. Thanks for telling me.” She turned and started to walk away before tossing over her shoulder, “You’re a good friend, Dean.”

  • • •

  Cassie must have filled Melissa in because the next day at school, the pixie chucked a T-shirt into my lap.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it, dummy,” she said with a wicked grin.

  When I unfolded the plain white tee to reveal writing in black letters that read Team Cassie, I smiled.

  “Am I supposed to wear this around campus?”

  “I thought you could wear it under your tux at the wedding,” she said with a wink.

  I let out a belly laugh, the first one in a long, long time. It was a huge relief that my interactions with Melissa had become comfortable again. Maybe it was because whatever was between us had taken a backseat to all the drama with Jack and Cassie.

  I wasn’t sure but underneath it all, I believed I still wanted to be with Melissa, or at least give us a shot. Jack had been right about one thing all those months ago—I didn’t give up easily and tended to stay attached. I could see that now.

  Grinning at Melissa, I said, “I am so doing that. I’m absolutely doing it. It’ll be the only way I can give this wedding a big fuck-you without pissing anyone off.”

  “Thought you might like it.” She gave me a big smile. “I have to go. Have fun in stupid Alabama with your stupider brother at the stupidest wedding in the whole entire world,” she added with a scowl.

  “Mature much?” I said, teasing her.

  “Not really.” She laughed before walking away.

  Worst Wedding Ever

  Cassie and Melissa had been oddly secretive since I’d confessed I was attending the wedding. A few days later when I joined them at lunch, they were talking in hushed whispers, and clammed up the second I sat down at the table. They were obviously up to something, but I was too chickenshit to ask.

  For some reason, I still felt partially responsible when it came to Jack’s screwup. Not that I played a role in it, of course, but simply because I was related to him. Guilt by association. Jack had hurt these girls, and I felt as if I’d hurt them as well.

  The three of us refused to address the elephant in the room—Jack’s wedding—and that was fine by me. The look on Cassie’s face after I told her that I was going would be burned into my memory forever. Maybe they discussed the wedding when I wasn’t around so they didn’t put me in the middle? Hell, I honestly had no idea what went on in the female brain.

  “When do you leave for Alabama?” Melissa asked as Cassie played with the fruit on her plate, pretending to be disinterested in my answer.

  “In the morning.” I dreaded the wedding, but was happy to see my brother. It had been too long, and so much had happened since the last time I’d seen Jack in person.

  Cassie stopped forking her food and looked up at me, her eyes conveying an emotion that I wasn’t equipped to read.

  “I’m sorry,” I said automatically, not knowing what else to say as she looked back down at her plate.

  I wished like hell that I could take away her pain and change my brother’s mind. One of the hardest things I was going to have to do was to stand up there and watch Jack exchange vows with someone I knew he didn’t love, someone I hadn’t even met yet. Thinking about it filled me with dread. It was challenging, to say the least, to stand idly by and watch someone you cared about make decisions you knew would screw up his life, even if you understood his reasons.

  Which I did.

  In theory.

  I knew my brother and I understood his mindset, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to go through with it. Seeing the future I once assumed he would have be replaced by this unexpected and unwelcome one sucked.

  Maybe I could talk some sense into him when I got there. Maybe once I was there, in person, he’d listen to reason.

  The idea of getting him to postpone the wedding filled me with a small sliver of hope, and I suddenly found myself looking forward to getting on the plane.

  • • •

  Alabama was hot. And sticky. Even though I’d taken the first flight out at the crack of dawn, with the time difference, Jack was already at the field when I landed. He wasn’t pitching tonight, so I had no intention of going to the field to sit in this nasty humid heat.

  Apparently Chrystle had offered to pick me up at the airport, but thankfully Jack talked her out of it and sent me a car instead. I walked outside, following the driver as sweat instantly beaded on my forehead. Southern California was hot, but this was something else entirely. This was heat wrapped in a moist towel. You couldn’t escape it. The air felt heavy, like you could feel it as you breathed it in.

  On the ride to Jack’s house, I started to regret not asking if I could go the field instead. The idea of being alone with the girl he was about to marry made me uneasy. I’d spent so little time actually thinking about Chrystle at all, the thought of spending time with her alone gave me a sick feeling.

  What if I hated her? Or worse, what if I liked her? The very idea that I might like this girl caused my stomach to roll. I would always be loyal to Jack, and I wanted him to be with someone who was nice and treated him well, but I also felt a sense of loyalty toward Cassie. And liking this girl who’d ripped their world apart almost seemed like a slap to Cassie’s face.

  I was torn, not sure which was the lesser of two evils—liking Chrystle or hating her.

  When I stepped out of the car in front of Jack’s house, a too-thin brunette came out onto the porch. I picked up my duffel and thanked the driver, wanting nothing more than to hop back into the car and head to the airport to fly home. She was strikingly pretty, and I cringed at the image in my head of my brother in the bar that night, trying to tell this girl no a hundred times, and then telling her yes once.

  “Dean,” she called out as she waved at me, smiling at me like we were old friends.

  We weren’t.

  I forced a smile. “You must be Chrystle,” I said, trying to be polite as I took in her perfectly toned body.

  “We’re both so happy you’re here,” she said, and I tried not to wince at her speaking for my brother already. “I’ve been simply dying to meet you. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Her voice was so different from what I was used to, slow and syrupy sweet like molasses with her Alabama accent, and I instantly questioned everything that came out of her mouth. I wasn’t sure if I was just primed to dislike her, or maybe the mere sound of her overdone Southern drawl made me uneasy, but her voice seemed fake, every syllable stretched and drawn out.

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” I lied.

  I couldn’t help it, but this girl was messing up everything. It seemed easy to blame her, at least in my mind, for every single thing that had gone wrong now that I was face-to-face with her. Maybe if she was the villain in this scenario, Jack wouldn’t have to be.

  “I made up the guest room for you. Jack stocked the fridge with beer, so help yourself.” She smiled, her teeth overly white. “Oh, and your tux is hanging in the closet. Jack picked it up earlier.”

  “Cool,” was all I could manage to say in response to that topic.

  “I’d offer to take your bag, but,” she patted at her flat stomach, “I can’t. You know, because of the baby.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to carry my bag anyway,” I said with a huff. What kind of guy did she think I was?

  She let out a giggle. “Of course not. How silly of me. If you want to follow me upstairs, I’ll show you to your room.” She started up the stairs, acting like a damn tour guide. “Isn’t this place great? Your brother spoils me rotten,” she cooed, and I knew she was lying. “It’s just a rental because Jack says we could move at any time with his team.”

  “It’s nice,” I said, trying to be agreeable, but I didn’t care about their stupid house.

  Chrystle stopped in the hallway
and said, “This is your room. You have your own bathroom too.” She indicated an open doorway and I walked in, tossing my bag on top of the bed. “The TV is hooked up to cable, so you can watch whatever you want.”

  “Nice.” I looked around at the huge room. “I think I’ll take a shower. I feel kinda gross after that flight,” I said, hoping for some peace and quiet.

  She smiled again, her head tilting to the side. “Of course, sweetie. You do whatever you want. If you need anything, just holler.” She stepped out and closed the door behind her.

  Relieved that the dreaded introduction was over, I quickly unpacked, wishing my brother was here already.

  After my shower, I planned to hide out in my room until Jack got home, but my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t eaten in hours and was starving, but to eat I’d have to go back out there and socialize. Remembering the beer she’d mentioned, I comforted myself with the fact that at least there was alcohol.

  Chrystle refused to let me do anything myself. She served me, bringing me beer after beer and making way too much food for me. It would have been nice if I thought for one second it was genuine. It all felt like a show, and the truth was, I could get my own damn beer and make my own damn food.

  She tried to be a good hostess and make small talk with me, but I kept pointing at my full mouth, pretending that I couldn’t talk while I was eating.

  A thought hit me, and I broke my self-imposed silence to ask, “Are you staying here tonight or are you sleeping somewhere else? You know, the night before the wedding and all.” It was a strange question that surprised even me. I had no idea where that thought even came from.

  “I’m staying here. Jack and I think that tradition is silly, and we want to wake up together on our wedding day.”

  Her voice had taken on a dreamy quality, and I wondered how much fantasy filled her damn head. There was no way Jack would say anything like that to her.

  When she finally excused herself to go to the restroom—thank God—I bolted from the kitchen and locked myself in my room. A few minutes later, she knocked on my door.

  “Dean, are you okay? Did you want to come out and watch a movie or something?” she called through the door.

  “No thanks. I think I’m going to take a nap. I’m beat,” I called back. There was no way in hell I was moving from the bed.

  “Oh, okay. Well . . .” She seemed to be at a loss, making me wonder if this girl wasn’t used to hearing the word no, or not getting her way.

  “Thanks again for the food,” I called out to her, praying she would leave. “It was really good.”

  “Oh, don’t think anything of it,” she said through the door. “We’re going to be family soon. You’re going to be my brother too.”

  Chrystle’s words had crossed an invisible line, making me angry. I wanted to smash through that door like the Incredible Hulk. The only girl I’d ever consider a sister was Cassie. I didn’t want this chick as my sister. In fact, I didn’t want any of this.

  After she walked away, I actually did consider napping since there was nothing else to do, but my phone alerted me to a text.

  Melissa: How’s Alabama?

  I smiled.

  Dean: Hot. Sticky. Did I mention hot?

  Melissa: How’s your dumb brother and that stupid girl?

  Dean: I haven’t seen Jack yet. He’s still at the field. I’m home alone with the chick now.

  Melissa: Shut up! What’s she like? Do you like her?

  Dean: Fake. And NO.

  Melissa: LOL. Good. Well, I just wanted to make sure you got there. And I might miss you.

  Dean: I might miss you too.

  Melissa: :) See you when you get back. Don’t forget to wear your shirt.

  Dean: I have it right here.

  I pulled the Team Cassie shirt from my bag, wondering how I was going to put it on without Jack seeing and getting pissed off. After deciding that I’d figure that out later, I tossed it onto the floor.

  Whether I was truly tired, or maybe it was out of boredom, I wasn’t sure, but I eventually did fall asleep.

  The squeal of a car peeling out of the garage startled me awake at one point. But when I pulled open my door and yelled for Jack, there was no response. I shouted for Chrystle too, but the house was quiet.

  So I went back to bed and closed my eyes, wondering when the hell my brother would get home.

  • • •

  “Hey, little brother! Where are you?” Jack shouted from somewhere in the house, and he sounded happy.

  Drowsy, I sat up and checked the time on my phone. It was late, and my room was dark.

  I yawned as I stepped into the hallway to look for him, and called out, “What’s up?” Following the sound of his voice, I found him downstairs in the entryway.

  Chrystle stood by his side as he tried to stow his equipment in the closet. She kept touching him, trying to get attention or affection from him, but he ignored her, pulled away without even looking at her. When she put her hand on his arm, he pulled back and leaned away from her. If she put her hand on his waist, he wriggled out of her touch and stepped to the side. If she reached for his hand, he balled it into a fist, unable to be held.

  I watched this, amused, wondering if Jack even realized what he was doing. His reactions looked almost second nature, as if he always pulled away from her touch without thinking twice.

  “Can I talk to you out back?” he asked me, ignoring her.

  Chrystle faked a yawn and batted her eyelashes at him. “You won’t be long, will you, Jack?”

  I realized in that moment that I really didn’t like this girl. She hadn’t done a damn thing to me, or given me a single reason to not like her, but that didn’t matter. Maybe I was being irrational, not really giving her a chance, but I didn’t care about logic. Deep down, I sensed that this girl was trouble, and I didn’t like it one bit. And my brother was going to marry her.

  “Go to bed without me, Chrystle. I’ll be there soon,” Jack said, his tone clipped and rude, and my brows went up. He’d never talk to Cassie that way.

  He pushed open the back door and stepped outside as I followed close behind. He walked over to one of two lawn chairs on the patio and sat down, gesturing for me to take the other.

  “So,” I asked, “are you nervous about tomorrow?”

  He glanced at me, his eyes hooded. “A little.” Then he turned in his seat and angled his body toward me. “Listen. Did you know Cassie’s here?”

  I leaned back into my chair in shock, the weight of his words hitting me full force. “Excuse me? What do you mean, she’s here?”

  “She was waiting for me in the parking lot after my game tonight.”

  “Shit.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “You didn’t know? I was certain you knew.”

  “I had no idea, Jack. I swear. I would have given you a heads-up or something if I knew.” I shook my head before it hit me. “Which is why, of course, they didn’t tell me.”

  “They who?”

  “Melissa and Cassie. They were acting weird all week, but they didn’t say why.”

  I thought back to the hushed whispers, the conversations that would stop whenever I came around. How long had they been plotting this?

  Then I thought back to my flight from this morning and wondered if Cassie had been on the same one. No, I would have seen her. Melissa knew what time my flight was; she would have never allowed Cassie to be on the same one.

  Jack caught my eye. “Does she ever talk about me?”

  He hadn’t asked me that since the day they ended things, and I had never offered, assuming the truth would be too big of a pill to swallow on top of everything else.

  “Not when I’m around,” I said truthfully, then steered the conversation back to tonight. “What did Cassie say?”

  My head was spinning at the thought that Cassie was here in Alabama. I couldn’t believe it. Was she planning on showing up at the wedding?

  Jack shook his head in disbelief. “She asked me
not to get married tomorrow.”

  “Wait—she flew all the way out here to ask you that?” I lowered my voice to a loud whisper. “She could’ve just called.”

  A little nervous, I cast a quick glance at the second-story window where Jack’s bedroom light was on. I didn’t trust Chrystle not to eavesdrop on our conversation, but when I was satisfied with the lack of shadows or movement in the window, I refocused on my brother.

  Jack let out a low laugh. “I told her the same thing.”

  “That sucks,” I said, shaking my head. “I know this is killing her.”

  His expression tightened, all humor gone. “I’m pretty sure it’s killing both of us.”

  The realization hit me in that moment. Cassie must have thought the same thing I did before I left, that being here in person might be the only way to talk him out of making a huge mistake. I assumed that I would have a better shot getting him to call off the wedding once I was here versus a simple telephone call. Cassie must have had the same idea.

  “Then why are you doing it?” I asked. “I mean, don’t do it. Don’t marry Chrystle.”

  If Jack was in as much pain as he said, then I couldn’t understand how marrying this chick was going to make it better. I knew how he saw this situation, and I understood. I just didn’t want him to do it, and honestly believed he would regret this decision for the rest of his life.

  This would be a make-or-break decision for him—one of those defining moments you don’t get back, you never get over, and you never truly come back from.

  Jack gave me a disgusted look. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

  He had a point. All the guests were already in town and the wedding was tomorrow.

  Frustrated, I reached out and clutched his forearm. “Look, I get why you’re doing it; I just wish you wouldn’t. I know you still love Cassie.”

  He glared at me, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “Of course I fucking love Cassie. But I cheated on her and got someone else pregnant. I’ll spend the rest of my life loving the one person I can’t have. That’s my punishment for hurting her.”