Page 53 of Playmaker

Maddie takes a step closer, her sob echoing across the high ceilings. “Cam,” she chokes out. “I amsosorry.”

I’m sure she is. Everyone else seems to be too. Frozen lasagnas clutter our deep freezer, and handwritten notes and flowers line the kitchen island. When the kind gestures first started appearing last night, I found myself infuriated by them. I don’t need pity. I don’t need frozen fucking meals or cards or people coming over here to tell me they’resorry. I don’t need any of it.

I just want my mom back.

Maddie sits beside me on the couch, her thigh brushing mine, and the scent of vanilla and honey from her hair gives me a brief moment of clarity. For a second I’m reminded how good she smells and how close I’d been to kissing her on that beach.

“I—” She clears her throat, swiping away a tear that’s fallen on her cheek. “I brought this for you.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out some sort of rock that she places in my lap. I grab the object and spin it between my fingers, liking the way the hard edges dig into my skin.

“I’m not really into stones or crystals,” she explains. “It’s not that I don’t believe in them, but I don’t know much about the subject. My mom is the one who’s crazy knowledgeable about it.” When I don’t respond, she drums her fingers on her knee and adds, “My mom gave that to me when I had the flu in third grade. Clear quartz is supposed to be good for healing, and I . . . well, I thought you could use it more than me.”

I clench the rock in a tight fist, hating how kind she’s being. I don’t deserve her. I’ve become an emotionless robot since yesterday, and I have no plans on stopping anytime soon. I don’t want to feel, and with her being beside me, in the sameroomas me, I’m feeling too much. Maddie reminds me of everything good life has to offer, and right now I don’t want to see the good. There is no good if my mom isn’t here to see it with me.

And with that knowledge, I can’t have Maddie around me. I’ve turned into an empty version of myself, and the thought of her seeing me like this, seeing how evil and dark my thoughts have become, she’s going to learn to hate me and eventually leave me too.

Everyone does.

“You should go,” I whisper. The sentence doesn’t feel right leaving my tongue, but it’s the right thing to do.

Maddie glances up from her lap. “What?”

“I said you should go,” I repeat. “I’m not in the mood for visitors.”

Her eyes linger on mine, filling with tears. “I understand. I’ll try to visit tomorrow, then, when you’re in a better place maybe.”

I shake my head, clenching the rock she gave me with so much force I wouldn’t be surprised if it drew blood. “Not then either. I can’t be around you, Maddie. Not anymore.”

“What are you talking about, Cam? You almost—” Her voice drops lower into a whisper. “You almostkissedme last week.”

I turn to look at her, and devastation lines her features when she sees the expression on my face. I’ve become cold. Lifeless. The kind of human who doesn’t give a fuck about what he’s about to do to because he doesn’t have feelings. “What are you talking about?” I sneer. “You thought I was going tokissyou?”

Her face pales. “I . . . you leanedin. I thought—”

“You thoughtwrong. I would never kiss you. We’re friends and that’s all we’ll ever be, so get over whatever stupid crush you have on me and leave me alone.”

I refuse to make eye contact with her. Instead, I keep my gaze glued on the mosaic carpet. The shock she seems to be in prevents me from saying anything else, but staying away from me is what will benefit her in the long run. I’m nobody worth fighting for. I’m a broken, shattered mess, and she shouldn’t waste time trying to piece me back together.

“You don’t mean that,” she says. “You’re grieving, and you’re hurt, but—”

“Butnothing. Did you not hear me? I said to get out and don’t speak to me again.” The burning sensation forces its way through my chest and into my throat, but I desperately try to push it away, fighting tooth and nail to hold it at bay.

“Cam—”

“Get the fuckout, Maddie.”

The tiny gasp of hurt is a sound I’m certain I’ll never forget, but the sobs that come after are even worse. They linger long after she disappears down the hall, and when the front door slams shut, I realize I’m a flat-out liar.

Turns out I’m not an emotionless robot after all.

Because the tears I swore vanished for good hit me again like a damn tidal wave.

—

As I sit on the sandy, dusty gravel by my mother’s grave I twirl the clear crystal around and around in my fingers. I’ve kept it ever since Maddie gave it to me, and I bring it whenever I visit the cemetery. It was the only object after her death that seemed to calm me down, and I can’t tell if it’s because the damn crystal actually works or if it’s because it’s connected to Maddie.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I glance around the dimly lit graveyard and frown at the sight. My mother didn’t want to be buried here. She always loved farmland, and she’d raved about the smell of fresh grass. We went to her hometown back in Pennsylvania once to visit distant family, and she just seemedhappier.

Arizona is the opposite of what she loved, and regardless of what it said in her will, she only wanted to be buried here so that my father and I would be able to visit. She’d be devastated to know it’s only me who comes. I replace the flowers as often as I can, but my father hasn’t had the courage to come here since the funeral.

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