Page 22 of Playmaker

Cameron

“Son, there’s someone here to see you.”

Blinking at my father, I can’t comprehend what he’s saying. Every motion for the past twenty-four hours has felt robotic. Lifeless. Foreign. I’m so numb to my pain that I can’t tell whether I’m angry or relieved there’s someone here to see me. It can’t be Ethan since he already stopped by this morning, so it must be—

My father moves to the side and Maddie steps into view. Her blue eyes are puffy and red from the crying she’s done on her own, and normally the sight of her emotions would crush me, but not anymore. It doesn’t matter when my eyes probably look the same. I sobbed for a straight twelve hours before I popped a blood vessel in my left eye, and then everything just stopped. My feelings. My tears. And if it wasn’t for the constant thumping in my chest, I’d think my heart had stopped too.

“I’ll give you guys a moment alone,” he says before walking down the hall.

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

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’re sorry . 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 same room as 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 almost kissed me 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 to kiss you?”

Her face pales. “I . . . you leaned in . I thought—”

“You thought wrong . 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—”

“But nothing . 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 fuck out , 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 seemed happier .

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.

Resting my elbows on my knees, I hang my head between them and let out another deep breath. Usually this spot brings me peace. I can come here and speak to my mom as if she’s here with me, and even though it sounds ridiculous, I think she is. There’s a spiritualism about being here. I feel close to her.

Tonight, however, I don’t feel like speaking. Memories of Maddie and that day drown my thoughts, and it’s something I’ve never spoken about aloud. I suppose if there is an afterlife then my mom is already aware of it, but it doesn’t take away the shame or guilt I feel for destroying the girl who means the most to me.

My mother always liked Maddie. She thought she was the sweetest girl, and she’d compliment her whenever she wasn’t in the room. A part of me thought she was trying to set us up and could see something before my feelings ever developed.

Maybe I’m an idiot for fooling around with Maddie like my dad claimed, but tonight in my bedroom didn’t feel like fooling around. Our kiss before we went inside my house felt genuine.

Real .

How can I be so torn about something? I can go back and forth about the pros and cons of being with Maddie, but I’ll never make a decision. I’ve always been conflicted when it comes to her, and it’s never been black and white. No matter what I choose, there will always be doubts, and the one person who has the ability to guide me isn’t here anymore.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “I miss you, Mom.” Biting hard on my lip, I try to keep the tears inside but it’s no use. They flow freely in a matter of seconds.

The cancer attacked quickly. Too quickly. We found out she had stage four ovarian cancer three months before she passed, and I was too young to understand. Too hopeful. I hadn’t seen enough bad in the world to fully grasp what was going to happen, but I wish I had. I wish others hadn’t just given me that look of pity when I said she was going to beat it. I wish they had been realistic and warned me she was going to die, and it was only a matter of time.

Maybe then I would have listened to her stories more. I would have made an effort to remember her laugh, and asked her the important questions I needed answers to.

For example, What do I do now that I’m in love with my best friend’s sister?

Am I ruining my chances of getting into the NFL?

Am I making her proud?

Is Maddie really a distraction?

The last question is useless when I already know the answer. Maddie isn’t the type of girl who would let me become distracted. She knows more than anyone how important my future is, and she wouldn’t do anything to get in the way of it. My father doesn’t know what he’s talking about. At the end of the day, I know the truth, and Maddie is the best damn thing to ever happen to my life.

The sentence rings in my head, a terrifying realization dawning on me.

Maddie has always been the best thing to happen to me. Even when I was a dick and gaslit her into thinking I felt nothing for her that day in my living room, she still agreed to my proposition to mend our friendship six years later, and I all but told her to go out with fucking Mark tomorrow night because I was too scared to admit my feelings and fuck things up.

Haven’t I already fucked things up by not confiding in her?

What’s the worst thing that could happen? I tell her the truth and she decides to leave? It’s my biggest fear, but by choosing the path of not saying anything at all, I’m going to lose her anyway. Maybe not as a friend, but I’ll lose her in the way that matters.

I don’t want to be friends.

I don’t want to explore.

I want her .

All of her.

Suddenly, boots crunch on the gravel behind me, and I quickly slip the crystal into the pocket of my sweatshirt before I glance over my shoulder. I’m unsurprised to find Ethan making his way over to me, his truck parked beside mine on the grass.

“Figured you’d be here,” he says, plopping down beside me. He places a hand on my shoulder, and it isn’t until now that I realize I’m still crying.

Ethan doesn’t try to pry, nor does he interrupt.

He sits with me and waits it out.

The gesture only makes me cry harder because what I’m doing to him isn’t okay either. I’m keeping secrets that will destroy our friendship if he finds out. The person who, aside from Maddie, has seen me at my ultimate worst and has accepted me regardless of the monster I became after my mother’s death. I’m lying to my best friend, my brother , after everything he’s done for me.

Five minutes pass before my breathing regulates and my sobs turn into sniffles. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. “My dad’s just a dick.”

“No need to apologize,” he replies. “Maddie came home and said she saw his car parked in the driveway on her way home from Maya’s. You weren’t answering your phone, so I pieced two and two together. Mom already said she’d make chicken noodle soup if you need some. Just say the word.”

I shake my head, unable to look him in the eyes. “Not tonight. I—” I can’t face your sister after I nearly broke her heart for the second time . “I want to be alone tonight.”

Ethan scoffs. “He’s leaving so soon?”

“Red-eye later.”

“Prick.”

I shift uncomfortably. “I’m sorry you had to come find me,” I admit. “You’re always there for me when it matters the most and I don’t feel like I do the same for you.”

“Why do you think that?” he asks. His voice is rushed, so I meet his stare, narrowing my gaze. There’s a tiredness in his eyes that hasn’t always been there, but when was the last time I truly checked in on him? Really looked at him?

“Are you all right?” I ask.

“Dude, I’m fine,” he replies, but something about his tone seems off. “Where’s all of this coming from? Aren’t I the one supposed to be asking you these questions?”

I wave my hand, dropping the subject. “You’ve interrogated me with those questions way too many times, Ethan. You’re the type of best friend everyone wishes they could have, and I hope you don’t think I take you for granted for putting up with me. My problems are a lot, but you’ve never made me feel guilty about them, and I’m sorry I haven’t been the friend you deserve in return.”

Ethan claps me on the shoulder. “You’re more than a friend, Cameron. You’re a brother. There isn’t a side you could show that would make me turn away from you. I understand you’ve been dealing with a lot over the past few years, and I’d never hold it against you. The best part about friendship is that you can’t control whether or not someone accepts your baggage, you know? They just do . It’s their choice.”

It’s their choice .

His sentence plays on repeat.

Isn’t that what my problems boil down to?

I’m terrified of Maddie leaving if I tell her the truth, and I’m fucking scared out of my mind that I’ll hurt her like I did six years ago. I’m not in the best emotional place to be in a relationship, and I’ve never been a boyfriend to anyone before, but . . .

But isn’t it Maddie’s choice whether or not she accepts that baggage of mine?

If I lay it all out in the open for her and show her my cards, would she agree and try to figure this out with me one day at a time, or would she choose to walk away and find an easier path with Mark?

I guess there’s only one way to find out .

“Thanks, man.” Rising from the gravel, I extend a hand to help him up. “And Ethan? I’m really grateful you chose to accept my baggage.”