How To Play the Player (COMPLETED)

Dear Asshole

Liam and I didn't speak for almost a week after his party. It wasn't a he's avoiding my existence kind of situation, but that we both were kind of steering clear of one another. My own emotions were a hurricane that I was very desperately trying to get to subside, and having to face Liam after his breakdown in his parents room Friday night would only add more fuel to the fire. Our mutual avoidance ended Wednesday afternoon when I found him sitting on the bleachers staring out over the football field. He hadn't even bothered to put his Letterman on despite their being a game Friday night. He was wearing a plain black sweatshirt with the hood up so all that was visible was a few loose strands of his dark hair across his forehead.

I set the next play on top of his backpack once I'd approached, not sure whether it'd be in our best interests to part ways. His face was unreadable, but after watching him fall apart, all I could see when he trained his emotionless blue eyes to me was the gut wrenching agony that had ravaged through them Friday.

"You good?" my voice was abnormally hoarse. I quickly chalked it up to being because I hadn't spoke more than a few words to anyone since last weekend. I'd been talking to Bryan through text, even when I was laying beside him, there were no words were spoken.

"I'm just thinking about my parents." He mumbled. His voice didn't sound much better than mine. "Dad was a player too and gave it all up when Mom got pregnant with me. He made it to every single one of my games. Even when I was on that stupid kids league when I was twelve, he was there, watching me trip over my own feet. The game Friday night will mark a year since they died. It'll be the first major game they miss."

Still standing, I reached out and touched a hand to his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Liam."

"I remember that first game after their death. It was hard. I didn't want to play anymore, it just made me think of my Dad. I didn't want to look out into the stands to find nobody cheering me on."

I squeezed his shoulder blade. "Everyone cheers you on, Liam."

"Nobody I care about." He deflected instantly. "But that first game, while I was trudging around with my head bowed ready to lose the game, I spotted your mom."

My eyes widened a little. Mom had been close with the Scotts, but his story was the first I'd ever heard of this.

"We lost, of course, I wasn't focused. But she still came up and she praised me. She gave me the tightest hug and told me how proud my father would have been of me. I'll never forget that."

That sounded like my mother. She had this really bad habit of putting her feelings on the back burner and making sure everyone else was okay before she allowed herself to feel anything.

"I guess I see why you are the way you are, Reese. Your mother, she's one of the most selfless people I've met, and it seems like she made sure you had that amazing quality and then some."

A sad smile touched at the corners of Liam's lips as he stared at the field below, as if he were reminiscing in a memory. I looked toward the school, a knot in my throat when I immediately met Jay's dark eyes. We held one another's gazes for about a minute before I swallowed and turned back to Liam. I wasn't going to let him, or anyone else, make me feel guilty for being a good friend.

**

I felt the coldness all the way by the door as soon as I walked into the cafeteria. I thought it may be coming off Bryan toward Liam, but it seemed as though they'd found a commonship and were actually in the midst of a conversation as I set my coffee cup down beside Bryan and lowered myself on to the bench. Nicola was at the end of the table in a quiet conversation with Shay, Brianna occasionally piping in. Andy was beside Liam on the other side of the table, making faces at my friend any time she'd look to him. The tension wasn't coming from anyone at the table; at least not until Jay dropped his backpack hard on to the table beside me.