Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game(25)



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 f**king 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.”

***

Chapter Eight

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.

Katie Ashley's Books