Page 12 of Play Nice

“Yeah. Might be in the basement. I bet Amy sold it, though.”

“Facebook Marketplace?”

“She’s obsessed with Facebook Marketplace.”

“Loves it.”

“I worry she’s gonna get murdered. She’ll tell me about how she went to some random person’s house in the middle of nowhere to pick up, like, junk. Like an old end table or some shit like that.”

“Yeah,” I say. I take a hit and pass the joint back, then start pumping my legs, start to swing.

“Hey, are you serious about going to the funeral, or are you just being…”

“Being what?”

“Difficult.”

“Me?” I ask, feigning shock and indignation.

“Dude.”

“Okay,” I say. “No. I’m serious. I’m going.”

She blows smoke rings, showing off. “Yeah. I was afraid of that.”

“You all need to relax.” I hop off the swing, landing hard on my feet. I raise my arms like a gymnast. “Ta-da!”

“Very good,” she says, unimpressed.

“I’m going in,” I say. “It’s too chilly out here.”

“All right. I’m gonna finish this.”

“Go for it,” I say, turning to head inside. “Night. Love you.”

“Love you.”

I take two steps before she says, “Wait.”

“Mm?”

“Can you just…”

I look over my shoulder at her. It’s dark, and she’s just a shape, a shadow beyond a floating ember.

“They’re gonna talk about how much she loved us. How much she loved you. But she didn’t. What she did to us, it wasn’t out of love. We love you. This, what’s here, this is love. Just remember that, okay? When you’re there?”

“I will. I do,” I say. “I know.”

I keep walking, and as I march up the slight hill toward the house, I wonder what right Daphne has, what right anyone has, to say what is and isn’t love. I wonder if love can be ugly. If it can do the wrong thing. Bad things.

I wonder if it can ever really die.

5

Tommy asked what I wanted to listen to on the ride up, but I could tell he was nervous, so I let him pick the music. It was a lot of nu metal, which I found kind of funny and kind of tragic.

Did u know Tommy listens to Slipknot? I texted Daphne.