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

Authors: Katie Ashley

Tags: #loss, #death, #young love, #Grief, #teenage romance

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BOOK: Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game
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I turned around. “What’s wrong?”

The world slowed to a crawl as Mr. Nelson extended
his hand. I drew in a deep breath as he opened his fingers.

I stared at a small, black box. I exhaled slowly
since it wasn’t pot, porn, or anything else shock-worthy. But the
look on Mr. Nelson’s face caused my breath to hitch. “What is
it?”

“You don’t know what this is?”

Duh, would I have asked you if I did, asswipe?
I wanted to say, but I managed just to shake my head.

Mr. Nelson sighed and stalked across the room to me.
He thrust the velvet box into my hands. I cracked the box, and the
sound echoed through the room. A glittering diamond stared back at
me. But it wasn’t just any diamond. It was two carats of commitment
in a platinum setting.

Wow, even I could tell the man-whore had taste. I
didn’t know much about diamonds, but I did know it glittered like
it cost a fortune. That made me wonder where in the hell Jake had
gotten the coins for such a ring. He was probably dealing drugs for
all I knew. Mr. Nelson jolted me out of my thoughts.

“Did Jake have a steady girlfriend?” he asked.

I gave him a dumbfounded look. The words “Jake” and
“relationship” just didn’t mix unless it was combined with multiple
sexual
relationships.

I staggered backwards. The mere fact I was standing
in the middle of Jake’s bedroom with an engagement ring in my hand
made me dizzy.

“Noah?” Mr. Nelson questioned.

“I’m fine,” I murmured. He continued staring at me,
so I cleared my throat. “No, Jake didn’t have a steady girlfriend.
I mean, he and Avery were off and on again, and he and Presley…” I
glanced up at Mr. Nelson, and he nodded.

“What about this? Do you know what it means?”

He handed me a piece of paper. It was the song lyrics
to
You Were Always On My Mind
. As I read over the lyrics, I
remembered a couple of months ago when I’d gotten into Jake’s truck
after one of the basketball games.

When Jake cranked the car, music came blasting out of
the speakers.

“Dude, what the hell is this shit?” I’d asked.

“It’s Willie Nelson man,” he replied, turning the
heater on.

“That’s freakin’ fabulous, but
why
are we
listening to it?”

“Cause I like it.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little hokey?”

Jake grinned. “I like hokey. Besides, it’s my
song.”

I snorted. “I thought your song was more 50 Cent’s
Pimp
or JT’s
Sexy Back
!”

“Yeah, I am kinda a pimp, aren’t I?” Jake mused. Then
he laughed. “No man, you’re wrong. This is a song to warm a girl
up.”

I raised my eyebrows skeptically. “Warm one up? I
thought all you had to do was look in their direction, and they’d
fling their clothes off and fall over.”

Jake laughed. “Usually…but not this girl. She needs a
little work, and trust me, it’s sexy as hell.”

I had scoffed at the thought and dropped the subject.
Funny, how the most ridiculous conversations could have some deep
seeded meaning. Now that I looked back, it was a private moment
between two friends—one I wasn’t willing to share.

So, I looked at Mr. Nelson and shook my head.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the
doorbell rang. Mr. Nelson rolled his eyes. “That would be Pastor
Dan,” he grumbled.

Dan Parker was the pastor of the church Mrs. Nelson
attended, and the one Jake had been court-appointed to attend after
one of his sophomore year stunts. Well, the judge hadn’t actually
mandated he attend church—just the rehabilitation program that
Pastor Dan ran for wayward teens who did dumbass things like get
drunk and drive a lawnmower naked down to the school and mow grass
into the shape of a penis on the football field.

I handed the velvet box back to Mr. Nelson. He
glanced at it and then back up at me. “Don’t say a word about the
ring to my wife, Noah. Not until we get through all this funeral
bullshit.”

Asshole.
“Whatever,” I mumbled.

As I went out the doorway, I glanced back at Jake’s
room one last time, and then I followed Mr. Nelson downstairs.

Standing in the foyer alongside Pastor Dan was a girl
who looked just like an angel. No shit, she was decked in a flowing
white summer dress. Only her dark brown hair contrasted against her
pale skin and attire.

I skidded to a stop on the bottom step and stared. It
was then I realized she wasn’t really an angel. I’d seen her around
school many times before. I may have even had a class or two with
her. She’d transferred to Creekview when I was junior. That was the
year her family moved to town, and Pastor Dan became the pastor of
one of the local churches.

Mrs. Nelson smiled. “Noah, I’d like to introduce you
to, Pastor Dan Parker.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, as I shook his hand.

“Nice meeting you too, Noah.” Pastor Dan turned to
the angel. “This is my daughter, Maddie.”

At the sound of her name, Maddie dutifully raised her
head.

I reached out and took her hand in mine. “Yeah, I
think we know each other from school,” I said.

She nodded. “Yes, we do.”

Mrs. Nelson put her arm around Maddie’s waist. “I
don’t know what Jake would’ve done without Maddie. She’s been such
a help to him this year. Why I doubt he’d earned enough credits to
graduate without her.”

I noticed tears glistened in Maddie’s eyes. She
leaned over and hugged Mrs. Nelson, and they both wept. I shuffled
back and forth on my feet and glanced over at my mom. She had tears
in her eyes, too.

If there was anyone more uncomfortable with people
showing emotion, it was Mr. Nelson. His face darkened. He
interrupted his wife and Maddie by thrusting the duffel bag of
Jake’s things into Mrs. Nelson’s arms. “Noah and I got the things
you asked for.”

She wiped her eyes. “Thanks, dear,” she replied,
pressing the bag against her chest.

Mom cleared her throat. “Noah, I told Mrs. Nelson
you’d be happy to take those items down to the funeral home for
her.”

I shot my mom a look. The last thing on earth I
wanted to do was go down to the funeral home. I didn’t like to
admit it, but I kinda had this thing about funeral homes.

“Sure, that’d be fine.”

Mrs. Nelson smiled and then reached over to hug me.
“You’re such a good boy, Noah.”

Pastor Dan peered out the window. “Uh-oh, if that’s
your SUV, we’re blocking you in. Maddie, why don’t you give Noah a
lift down to the funeral home real quick?

Maddie and I both stared at him in disbelief.
“W-What?” Maddie stammered.

Pastor Dan nodded. “Sure. I was going to have to drop
off Mr. St. Clare’s eulogy for tomorrow anyway.” He glanced at Mrs.
Nelson and smiled. “You know, they’ve got to translate it into
French for all those Cajun relatives coming into town.”

“Oh that’s right,” Mrs. Nelson replied.

He reached in his briefcase and pulled out a large
envelope.

Maddie reluctantly took it from his hand and started
for the door. I followed close on her heels.

I slid into the silver Camry still clutching the bag.
Without a word, Maddie cranked the car. Christian Worship music
blared out of the radio. She flushed a little and quickly turned it
off. We started down the road as an uncomfortable silence hung in
the air.

Out of the corner of my eye, I checked her out. I was
a guy—I couldn’t help it. I started thinking about why I’d never
really noticed her—you know the way a guy was supposed to notice a
girl, especially one as beautiful she was. Then it hit me. Maddie
didn’t wear low cut shirts and tank tops with her jacked up
cleavage winking at the free world, and she didn’t have her ass
cheeks hanging out of her shorts and skirts. She kept herself
covered.

But it took just one glance at her long legs wrapped
underneath the steering wheel to make me imagine them in short
skirts. With my eyes roving upward, I realized she was also hiding
a fabulous rack underneath her dress. Damn, what a waste.

My below-the-belt thoughts along with being in close
quarters made me blurt out the first thing that came to my
mind—after her amazing legs and Double D’s. “You smell nice.” The
moment the words left my lips, I cringed.
Way to be an utter
lameass, Noah!

“It’s Noa,” she murmured.

“What about me?” I asked.

A smile tugged at her lips. “No, the perfume’s name
is Noa.”

“Oh, I get it,” I laughed.

Maddie’s smiled widened. “Jake really liked it, too.
He used to joke about it being a biblical experience or something
silly like that.”

“Yeah, I’d forgotten you were Jake’s tutor,” I
said.

She glanced over at me. A dark look flashed in her
eyes. “I was his friend.”

“Yeah, I know.” The truth was Jake had mentioned her
to me before, but I’d never really paid attention. Not to mention
he and I were both going in such crazy directions senior year. I
had just taken it as one of those random “Jake” comments—the kind
I’d blow off and then wait until he moved on to something else. But
the more I thought about it, he never moved on to anything else. I
remembered him stopping to say hey to her in the hallway or at
lunch. Hell, when we were with him, we all said hello to her
because everyone in the group knew better than to say something bad
about her or tease her. If they did, Jake would have kicked our
ass.

Maddie brought me out of my ramblings with the tone
of her next question. “Are you sure?”

“Sure of what?”

“That you knew Jake and I were friends,” she replied,
an edginess creeping into her voice.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“You know.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Um, no I don’t, so why don’t
you give me a hint or something.”

She sighed. “I know I’m not part of the in-crowd or
one of Jake’s usual conquests. And I’m sure you don’t know how it’s
possible for someone like Jake to have given someone like me the
time of day, but he did. He was always a sweet and perfect
gentleman to me.”

I thought about the way she’d been crying at Jake’s
house. She’d really cared about him. “I’m sorry. I really don’t
think that, I promise. Jake was…complicated. Even our friendship
was complicated sometimes,” I said.

Maddie looked at me in surprise. “Yeah, I guess he
was a little complicated,” she agreed, softly.

She didn’t say anything else, and thankfully, we
pulled into the parking lot of Whitfield Funeral Home.

When we got to the door, I balked. The last time I’d
been there was when my grandfather had died. Suddenly, my mind
tripped out, and I was flooded with memories. I was afraid the
moment I opened that door, I would smell the sickening sweet aroma
of funeral flowers. Worst of all, I would see my grandfather’s
chalky dead face the way it had looked the last time I’d seen him
in the casket.

Maddie turned back to me in confusion. “Are you
okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I muttered.

Her face flooded with concern. She reached out and
touched my arm. “Oh, I’m sorry. If I’d known you had some sorta
phobia about funeral homes, you could’ve waited in the car.”

Okay, I didn’t the like the way she was able to see
through me so well. There were only two women in the world who
could do that, my mom and my Grammy. I quickly got a hold of
myself. “I don’t have a phobia, Dr. Phil.”

Maddie raised her eyebrows. “Well, by the look on
your face and your tone, one could only assume you have some sort
of fear. If you do, it’s perfectly fine because-”

“Don’t you know what they say about making
assumptions?”

“Um no.”

“It makes an ass out of you and me!” I snapped.

By the look on her face, I knew I’d gone too far. I
sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that-”

She interrupted me by holding out her hand. “Pay
up.”

“Excuse me?”

“I have this thing about people cussing in my
presence. It’s disrespectful, and I think it reflects on one’s lack
of vocabulary. So I’ve started this thing called a ‘Cuss Can’. You
cuss around me, and you have to put a quarter in the can. All the
proceeds go to the mission work at my dad’s church.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re shitting me, right?”

“Now you owe me fifty cents.”

I stared at her in disbelief. I didn’t know who the
hell she thought she was standing before me demanding money simply
for cussing. What planet was she on?

“Listen Miss Priss, I’m not paying you a damn
thing.”

Maddie didn’t miss a beat. “Seventy-five.”

When I still stood there gaping at her, she simply
cocked her head. “Not man enough to pay up?”

For reasons unknown to me, I reached in my back
pocket and pulled out a dollar bill. “Now let’s just get something
straight. Nobody tells me what I can or can’t do, you got
that?”

BOOK: Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game
12.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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