The Love Game (26 page)

His words shock me until the truth of them sink in.

Braden was – is – the first guy I fell in love with. He's the first guy I ever gave myself to – not sexually, but emotionally. He knew everything about me, and if he's to be believed, he loved me anyway. For that, a part of me will always hold him close. Maybe I'll never stop loving him completely.

I nod slowly. Kyle smiles, nods once and waves to Kay, throwing me a wink over his shoulder.

“Did you just tell that hot piece of ass 'no' again? ‘Cause I'm tellin' you, baby girl, if you don't have him, I will.” Kay takes Kyle's seat and puts a coffee and muffin in front of me. Something in me twists and I force myself to accept them.

“I told him no. For the last time, I think.” I glance over her shoulder at his still-retreating figure. “He's just not the one for me.”

“But Carter is,” she says nonchalantly.

I blink. “I don't think so.”

“Oh, I do.” Her eyes pierce mine. “You been mopin' since he hot-tailed it outta our dorm room – and believe me, I'm pissed he saw my frilly pink boobie holder. But what can you do? Anyway,” she redirects herself. “I ain't gotta be damn Einstein to see you're in love with him. I gotta be honest, I don't understand what it is, but you love him, baby girl. Now, question is, what are you gonna do about it?”

I smile at her words. “Nothing,” I say and pick at my muffin. “Because nothing can right what I did.”

“But love don't get that. I'm no cupid, I tell ya, but you two are like peanut butter and jelly. You're pretty shit on your own, but get you together and actually, you're kinda good.”

I laugh a little. “Thanks, I think.”

She winks and waves her hand. “You're welcome. So, I'm gonna ask you again. What are you gonna do about it?”

I sigh and twirl the coffee cup round. “Nothing,” I say again. “Don't you see, Kay? This all started as a game. It was never meant to last forever because someone always has to win the game. Love or not, we were always destined for disaster. He was always gonna be the murderer in Clue, I'd always win the most money in Monopoly. Braden would always hold the most cards at the end of the round of Old Maid, and I'd always top him at Jenga. Not everyone has a 'one,' Kay, and whether he's mine or not, it doesn't mean we have to be a two. I did this because you guys asked me. I didn't want to – and I didn't want to fall in love. I was always going to have to deal with the fall out of this game and this just happens to be it.”

“Then you won't mind if we go to the frat house party tomorrow night.”

I stop breathing, my whole body freezing for a second. “No,” I lie eventually. “No, I won't mind.”

~

I'm torturing myself being here - especially before the party actually starts. Every place seems to have a memory of us, and even though I know it's my fault, it doesn't stop the sting that still accompanies each thought of him.

“Ryan, what do you mean?” I hear Lila ask as I pass the front room.

“I
.... Shit. You weren't meant to find out, babe.”

“Obviously.”

“It's no different than what you guys did!”

“Oh, real
ly? ‘Cause it is. We planned to get Braden to stop sleeping around. Your plan was to get her to fall in love just so he could sleep with her. Vile, Ryan!”

I gasp. I slap my hand over my mouth to stifle it, but Lila turns her head towards me.

“Maddie? Oh, crap,” she whispers, her soft eyes filling with regret. “I'm sorry.”

I'm shaking. Anger is flooding my body, red hot and ready to burst out of me. It's coupled with the dull pain of betrayal, the pain he felt.

The pain he lied about.

“Fuck!” Ryan looks at me.

I spin and storm off into the kitchen. He's at the bar, drinking a beer and talking with the guys. I can't see straight. I can't think straight. All I can see, all I can think, it's all him.

I grab his arm and pull him from the stool.

“Maddie? What the fuck?”

I look up into the blue eyes I fell in love with, and the anger increases. I shove his chest. “You!”

“What?” He looks at me, behind me, and I take a step closer. He steps backwards, and I keep stepping forward until he's backed against the wall.

“Congratulations, you won,” I mimic. “Remember that line, Braden? Remember the bullshit you laced in it? Remember every goddamn, fucking
lie
you've fed to me over four weeks?”

His face pales slightly, his eyes sparking with recognition. “Shit.”

“Shit is about right.” I'm shaking. Bad. I can't stop, because if I stop shaking the anger stops, and if the anger stops the tears will come. “Shit is about right because you played me all along, didn't you?! A quick fuck. That's all I ever was, isn't it? Well, did you enjoy it?”

“Maddie,” he says quietly. Sadness is in his eyes. “That's not how it was-”

“Lies. Don't fucking lie to me, Braden. I've heard enough of them recently, don't you think?”

“Angel-”

“I'm not your damn angel. I'm not your anything, other than the last person to warm your bed.” I shake my head and step back. My eyes meet his again. “Everything was a damn lie! I guess you played me as well as I played you, huh? 'Cause guess what? You got what you wanted. You won.” I walk backwards slowly, tears springing to my eyes. “I guess we both won.”

I turn from him and run through the house, shoving my way through the crowds forming at the front of it. I need to get away from this place. From this house, this campus, and this state.

My feet pound angrily against the floor as I run back to my dorm. I slam my door behind me and grab my cell, doing a quick Google search. Satisfied, I follow through the process on screen and pull my suitcase from under the bed. I shove random belongings into it, needing to leave.

Ring.

Reluctantly, I grab my phone and look at the screen. Kyle.

“What?” I wipe under my eyes, brushing away the hot tears there.

“Are you okay?”

“What do you think?”

“I'm sorry, Mads. If I'd have known....”

“You'd be too damn clever for Berkeley,” I reply. “Do you need anything, Kyle? I have a place to be.”

“Where are you going?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Do you need a way to get there, wherever there is?”

“I can call a cab.”

“No. I'll come and get you. I'll be outside your dorm in five minutes.”

“Thank you,” I whisper and hang up. The background image of me and Braden smiling into the camera laughs in my face. I'd only put it on there for appearances, but then I couldn't change it.

I still can't change it. I stare at it, numbly, remembering that this particular picture was taken after Pearce's visit. My smile wasn't fake.

I don't think my smiles ever were.

A horn beeps, and I grab my suitcase handle, giving a cursory look around the dorm room. I leave, the door clicking shut behind me, and I bump my case down the stairs to where Kyle is waiting. He grabs it from me, hoisting it into his trunk. I get in the car silently.

“Where to?” He catches my eye.

“Promise you won't tell? Not even after you've taken me there. If anyone asks, say you don't know.”

“Maddie-”

“Kyle, please. I need to get away from here.”

“Fine,” he grumbles.

“Promise!”

“I promise. Where to?”

“The airport.” I gaze out of my window and hear his sharp intake of breath.

“The airport?”

“I'm leaving for a week. I'll call in sick at school.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see my Dad. I'm going home. To Brooklyn.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck and another fuck.

I stare at the space she just left through. A great, big, gaping hole. That's what she does.

She comes into your life in a wild burst of color, filling an empty space you didn't know was there. And when she leaves, she takes it all with her, painting it in shades of black and white.

I push off the wall. I'm determined to find her and explain. Two hands grab my arms.

“Braden, leave her, bro.” Aston tugs me back. “Let her calm down.”

Calm down? “No. Fuck no.”

“Bray.” Megan appears in front of me and I try to focus on her. “He's right. She needs to calm down.”

“No,” I argue. “She needs to know the truth, Meggy! She needs to know the damn truth!”

“And she will.” She cups my face and makes me look at her. Makes me focus. “She will, when she's calm. She's hurtin', Bray. Let her deal with it.”

Hurt. Hurt that I put there.

Prick.

I shake off Ryan and Aston and head for the backyard, slamming the door open hard. I storm to the side of the house and lean my head against the wall, feeling like the biggest asshole ever. A car starts from the front of the house. I look up - to see Kyle's car go past.

“Fuck!” I yell and punch the wall. Blood trickles from my already grazed knuckles, but I don't care. I don't give a flying fucking shit about anything other than the girl that just walked away from me.

Because through it all, all the kisses and the laughs, the playing and the joking, I never bothered to tell her how real she is to me.

All the times I've held her close at night through her nightmares, all the times I wiped away her tears and put a smile back on her face – they're the times that made it real. Seeing that light spark in her eyes when I did something that made her laugh, the pain in the same eyes when she remembered the past – they're what made her real.

But none of that matters now. She's taken it all with her. Every last bit followed her out of the frat house ten, fifteen minutes ago. I don't even know. I don't even know how long I've been out here. But I am alone.

I can go.

I-

“Don't even think about it.” Ryan's face is in mine as I turn from the wall.

“Fuck.” I spit and shake my fist, my brain registering the first tinges of pain from my bloodied knuckles.

“Inside. Ice on that and a beer,” Ryan orders, grabbing my arm and pulling me back towards the house.

“I can fuckin' walk, Ryan.” I yank my arm from his grip. “I've got bloody knuckles,
not broken feet.”

“Really?” he drawls. “'Cause you look pretty fuckin' broken to me.” He shoves the door open and crosses the kitchen towards the freezer. He grabs an ice pack and hands it to me. I rest it on my knuckles, flinching at the cold. Ryan grabs two bottles of beer from the cooler and nods towards the door, meaning we should go upstairs. It's better than being down here.

I push my way through the crowd when I hear my name.

“At least someone finally did to him what he's done to half the girls in freshman year,” a voice I've never heard before states.

I see red. I've had about as much as I can take today, and I spin. Ryan stops me and through the angry film covering my eyes, I see Aston's fist fly into the speaker's face. It cracks into his nose, and he staggers backwards.

“Shut your fuckin' mouth,” Aston warns. “Anyone else wanna say somethin'?”

No one says anything.

“That's what I thought.” He shakes his fist out and looks at the guy he just hit in disgust. “Goddamn. You got a nose of fuckin' granite?”

Ryan snorts and pushes me back towards the door.

“Move it. Down here is the last place a live wire like you needs to be.”

The house is the same as I left it, and a half shiver runs down my spine as I step from the cab. I wave to the driver in thanks as he leaves and look at the house properly.

Built just outside of city limits, our two-story house has been home my whole life. I played on the now yellowing grass in the front yard, planted the wilting flowers and, with Pearce, helped Dad paint the little fence that surrounds it.

A white picket fence.
Cliché, but it was what Mom wanted - and Mom got it. It was the perfect family home. Until she died.

Now, the house is a shell of what it once was. There's no laughing in the kitchen at breakfast, no water fights when the flowers needed watering, and no Candy, Mom's cocker spaniel, there to greet you at the front door. Candy went not long after Mom.

I unhook the gate and walk to the front door, tugging my suitcase along after me in the darkness. I knock once on the door and step inside, noting the gentle light coming from the front room.

“Dad?”

“Maddie?”

I shut the door, stand my suitcase against the wall and take off my coat. Walking into the peach-colored front room, Mom's haven, I find Dad sitting in her chair in the corner. His hair is a little grayer, his cheeks more sunken, and his eyes a little duller than when I left - but he's still alive. Just.