Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game (12 page)

Alex and I glanced at each other before I responded.
“I really can’t answer your question. I mean, Jake never told me
about any of that stuff, but Pastor Dan is a religious dude, so he
wouldn’t have lied.”

The other guys nodded their heads in agreement.

“Maybe there was a lot about Jake that we didn’t
know,” Alex suggested.

“He seemed pretty straight forward to me,” Tyler
Mitchell mused.

“Yeah, parties, girls, and good times—that was the
Jake I knew,” Blaine replied. He looked around at the other guys
and shook his head. “I’m not sure I’d even want to believe that
Jake Nelson was doing all those things Pastor Dan claimed he was
doing. Hell, I liked him just the way he was!”

A chorus of “Damn rights!” rang through the car. Next
to me, Alex remained silent, obviously overwhelmed by the drama of
the ‘Two Jakes’. I kept my mouth shut as well, and so did Bubba,
aka Sean and Ryan. I guess we all realized that driving home the
point about Jake’s transformation would be meaningless to this
crowd.

The cars wound around the circular main road of
Rolling Gardens. It was a relatively new cemetery in town that was
close to the interstate. High on a hill overlooking a pond was a
mausoleum that held “Cremains”….a term I’d never heard of until
Jake died.

The driver parked the car. While the other guys
hopped out quickly, it took every last shred of strength and sanity
to pull myself from the tinted glass limo. Once I put my feet on
the ground, I fell back against the side of the car, shielding my
eyes from the intense sun. Why the hell was it such a cheerful day
outside? It was almost like the weather was mocking the emotions I
felt. Dark clouds should be rolling in on the horizon while icy
pellets of rain beat down on my back. Lightning, harsh and jagged
as the pieces of my broken heart, should cut across the blackened
sky.

Instead, a cloudless, cornflower blue sky stretched
overhead. Birds chirped happily from their perches in nearby trees.
It was all a fucking sham.

I drew in a ragged breath. So this was it—the final
finish of Jake’s funeral. I wasn’t sure I could stand idly by as
they put what was left of my best friend into a mausoleum vault.
Mr. Whitfield walked by us, reverently holding Jake’s urn.
Suddenly, my mind wandered back to Jake’s “cremains” littering the
floor of the funeral home. I wondered how in the world Mr.
Whitfield had gotten Jake back in there. I hated to think of him
whipping out his Dust Buster and vacuuming Jake up.

Tugging on my suit sleeve, Alex jerked me forward
from both the car and my morbid thoughts. The massive crowd
enveloped the marble mausoleum. Once everyone was assembled, Mr.
Whitfield gave a nod, and Jason and Jonathan stepped forward. They
both said a few words about their brother. It was mainly funny
stuff that had the crowd roaring with laughter about Jake’s antics.
After they finished, each of us pallbearers took off our
boutonnieres. One at a time, we walked over to the open vault and
laid out flower next to Jake’s urn. Then we stood and watched as
the vault was closed. A marble tile already bore Jake’s name, birth
and death dates, along with a saying:
The life of one we love is
never lost. Its influence goes on through every life it ever
touched.
Yeah, that summed up Jake pretty well.

When the crowd started breaking up and heading to
their cars, Blaine stopped me. “Hey man, you’re coming to the
party, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Good deal. Alex, you comin’?”

Blaine and I both turned to Alex who continued being
uncharacteristically quiet.

“Uh, no, I gotta go make sure my passport is being
renewed—you know, for our trip.”

Since freshman year, we’d all been planning on going
to Brazil—Rio De Janeiro to be exact—when we graduated high school.
My Aunt Eva’s family was from a small village outside of there, and
Alex didn’t get to see his Brazilian relatives much. There were
five of us going: Alex, Jake, Blaine, Tyler and I. Jake had been
thrilled by the prospect of what he deemed ‘international ass’.
Now, there would be only four of us unless we invited someone
else.

“Bummer. Well, I guess I’ll talk to you later,”
Blaine said, then went off to talk to some of the other members of
our group.

I cut my eyes over to Alex. “What’s up with the
bullshit story?”

“What do you mean?”

“You took care of your passport renewal months ago.
You did it when I went to get mine, remember?”

Alex shuffled on his feet and refused to meet my
gaze. “Oh yeah, that’s right.”

“So what the hell is going on?” I demanded.

“I just don’t think it’s right—partying and drinking
right after Jake’s funeral. There’s something kinda disrespectful
about it, okay?”

That wasn’t exactly the answer I expected from him.
But I understood what he meant. Jake would have thought we were
both pansy party poopers, and I’m sure if it had been me that had
died, he would have been leading a full charge to the nearest beer
keg.

“Yeah, that’s okay, cuz,” I replied.

Alex looked relieved. “So we’re cool?”

I smiled. “We’re always cool, man.”

“Good,” he said. He saw where his mom was waving at
him. “Shit, I guess I better go. Talk to you later?”

“Yeah sure.”

***

The Monday following the funeral, I decided
there was no time like the present to get busy, so to speak, with
my detective work. I had no idea in hell how I was supposed to find
her
. So, I decided to start with the most likely of suspects
or one of the girls who knew Jake the best.

On and off again Girlfriend #1 Avery.

I met her at her locker after first period. “Hey,
Avery.”

“Hi Noah,” she said, in her usual voice devoid of
emotion.

“Listen, I was wondering if I could come over this
afternoon.”

She raised her eyebrows and peered questioningly at
me. Geez, I guess she thought now that Jake was dead, I was gonna
start hitting on her or something.

“To talk. Just to talk.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. How about right after
school?”

“That’s good.”

“Okay, see you then,” she replied and slammed her
locker. She walked off down the hallway holding her head regally
like a queen. I sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy.

The rest of the day went by in a slow haze. Maybe
daze was a better word. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. We were
in the home stretch towards graduation, and most of us were feeling
the burn out. That coupled with Jake’s death meant we didn’t give a
shit about anything anymore. I knew my college acceptance was good
to go, and there wasn’t much I could do to screw it up.

When the bell rang at the end of the day, I bolted
out of my seat and practically sprinted to the parking lot. I made
the familiar drive through the tree-lined suburbs of Governor’s
Ridge, one of the richest areas of town. Avery lived a house you
might see on an episode of
Cribs
. Her parents even had one
of those crazy televisions in the bathroom mirror. It’s insane.
She’s an only child, and her dad is some multi-millionaire. I’d
been to her house for parties before. But the house was most
memorable to me because I’d had a pretty hot hookup there with
Avery’s cousin from out of town during our February break.

As I pulled into the driveway, the opening dum, dum
music from
Law and Order
played in my head. I could see it
flashing across the screen now:
Tuesday. 3:45 PM. The home of
Avery Moore.

God, I seriously needed a life.

After she let me in, Avery led me upstairs to her
room—in the East Wing of the mansion. I couldn’t help but remember
the comments Jake had made about Avery’s pageant crowns and
trophies. He always teased her by calling her Honey Boo-Boo, even
though Avery was the farthest thing from a redneck diva. He’d
always snort back a laugh and say,
“Man, the second you step in
Honey Boo-Boo’s room, you’re blinded by the light radiating off the
rhinestone tiaras.”
Then he’d grin his wicked grin and say,
“Sometimes it’s kinda sexy because you can almost catch your
reflection in the trophies while you’re doing it!”

He hadn’t been lying. Well, at least about the
tiaras. From the looks of it, Avery had participated and won every
single pageant imaginable since she was a toddler. One entire wall
of her room was dedicated to her winnings. It was intense.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Avery
asked.

“Jake.”

“I thought so.” She sat down on the leather love-seat
and motioned for me to join her. “Noah, I’m really sorry about what
happened at the funeral home—you know with the urn and all.” She
shook her head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

I snorted. “I do. It was jealousy.”

She pulled her shoulders back and then shot me a
death glare. “Yes, I realize it might initially appear like
jealousy, but you have to understand that I was also under a lot of
stress at the time. Do you know what it’s like to love someone like
Jake?”

With a smirk, I replied, “Well, no, actually I
don’t.”

She dismissed my smartass comment with a wave of her
hand. “I did love Jake. And I know he loved me…in his own way. It’s
just when he died, everyone…” She glanced at me. “Every
girl
was fighting for a piece of him. I just wanted to protect
mine.”

“I’m not here about that night, Avery.”

“Yeah, well I just wanted you to know that.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Time was
ticking, so I cleared my throat. “So did you guys have a special
song or something?”

She gave me an odd look. “Why do you ask?”

“I just wondered. You know, I’m just trying to gather
as many memories as I can of him,” I replied lamely. Damn, I
sounded like a complete tool. Peeking up through my shroud of hair,
I tried to gage whether Avery believed me. Her skeptical expression
spoke volumes.

“I’ve heard a rumor, Noah.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, about something that was found in Jake’s
possessions.”

Oh
s
hit.
“And?” I prompted.

She narrowed her eyes determinedly at me. “I want
it.”

I eased away from her since she appeared like she was
ready to pounce. “Well, Avery I’m not sure it’s yours—”

Avery stared at me in shock. “What do you mean it’s
not mine? They’re pictures of me!”

The world around me tipped and then spun at her
revelation. Finally, I replied, “Wait, what?”

Avery glanced down at her hands folded in her lap.
“We were fooling around the weekend after New Year’s. I let him
take some pictures—you know of
me
.”

When I got what she meant, I gasped. “Um, okay.”

“He may have deleted them, but I just want to make
sure.”

“Oh,” I replied, my chest deflating.

“So you think you can get them for me?”

“Yeah, um, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

She sighed with relief. “Good. The last thing I need
is for them to fall into the wrong hands and end up on the internet
or something.”

“That would suck,” I said. She still hadn’t answered
the song lyrics question. “So it’s a real bummer you guys didn’t
have a special song—you know that meant something to the two of
you.”

Avery rolled her eyes. “I guess that’s because Jake
only listened to ridiculous rap music without any deeper meaning
than ‘I want to screw you nine different ways’.”

At her totally exasperated expression, I ducked my
head to avoid laughing in her face. Geez, she had such a stick up
her ass that I wondered how Jake had ever managed to spend more
than ten minutes with her—especially considering for the latter
part of their relationship he wasn’t getting any from her. He’d
respected her wishes when she’d told him she couldn’t handle a
physical relationship anymore. Now that I looked back, it was
probably one of the most decent things he had ever done with a
girl.