Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game

by Katie Ashley

  I grinned. I could always count on Grammy. “Okay.”

  After heading up the familiar staircase, I went into my old bedroom. Grammy had basically kept it the same way I’d left it. Mom had bought us all new furniture—a symbolic gesture for our fresh start at the new house. I still kept a few pants and shirts in the closet.

  I took a quick shower and then put on a pair of black dress pants and black shirt. I’d talked to the guys, and we’d all decided to wear black pants, black shirts, and a silver ties. Yeah, we sounded like a bunch of silly girls coordinating what to wear, but at the same time, we wanted to show our unity—the same way the football team was all going to wear their jerseys in honor of Jake being a four year letterman.

  Grammy was just taking up the fried chicken—my all-time favorite—when I came back into the kitchen. She’d fixed all my favorites vegetables too with green beans and creamed potatoes. Since I wanted to enjoy my meal, I knew I needed to mention the unmentionable.

  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 wou
ld 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.

  The night wore on, and the crowd started to thin. I was going to be at the funeral home for the long haul since I’d agreed to help “sit up” with Jake’s urn. It was Jake’s grandparents who had given us the idea of “sitting up” with Jake. They were practically mountain people who lived way out in the boondocks up in North Georgia. I’d gone to their farm once with Jake. The further we drove along the backwoods roads, the more uncomfortable I got. I was on edge the entire weekend straining to hear banjo chords and waiting for some toothless hillbillies to come ass rape me like in that movie Deliverance.

  Anyway, Jake’s grandparents said there was a tradition back in the day where family and friends sat up all night when somebody died. I guess it made more sense when there weren’t funeral homes, and you would have felt kinda funny turning off the lights and leaving a dead body in the living room.

  Jake’s brothers were all for “sitting up”, so the rest of us decided it sounded like a good idea and a good send off.

  It was around eleven when Jake’s parents gathered up their things to head home. Jason turned to me. “Hey man, Jonathan and I are gonna walk Mom and Dad out, but we’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Jake’s parents had barely gotten out the front door when the shit hit the fan. It was
at that moment that Avery and Presley decided the icy stares and pissed body language wasn’t cutting it anymore. They were finally going to duke it out over who was going to be Jake’s ‘unofficial widow”’.

  Surprisingly, Avery made the first move. “I just don’t know what you’re doing staying here, Presley, unless it’s to service Jason and Jonathan during the night or some of the other guys here!”

  Presley smirked at Avery. “At least I’m in touch with my sexuality, and I could give Jake what he needed.”

  Avery jerked her chin up. “Yeah, Jake, half the school, and even some of the faculty!” she spat.

  “You bitch! You know that rumor about me and Senor Martinez is a lie!”

  “Then why did he transfer schools?”

  “Because that skanky ho Amanda Montrose gave him a blow job on Cinco De Mayo last year.”

  A shriek went up in the middle of the crowd. Amanda grabbed up her purse and stalked past Avery and Presley in a huff.

  “Whatever,” Avery grumbled.

  Presley stepped forward to stand toe to toe with Avery. “Let’s get this straight once and for all. I loved Jake, and he loved me. He only dated you for appearances.”

  “No, Jake loved me.”

  “Oh yeah, then why didn’t he go to prom with you?”

  “Because I was already going with Caleb Evans.”

  “No, it’s because Jake didn’t ask you. He asked me!”

  “Yeah, so he’d be guaranteed to be screwed.”

  Their voices were getting louder. Some of the others looked at me, urging me to be referee for the fight. I sighed. “Avery, Presley, listen. Fighting like this isn’t gonna solve shit. You’re both tired and overemotional right now. The whole school knows that Jake cared for both of you, so it’s really useless to argue about it,” I said, trying to step between them.

  Presley knocked me out of the way right before Avery slapped her. Everyone, including Presley, stood motionless, in shock. It seemed Avery’s grief had completely dethawed her usual Ice Princess demeanor.

  Suddenly, Presley grabbed Jake’s urn and pressed it against her ample cleavage. “He was mine!”