Playing Games with The Player: GAME OVER (Sequal to PGWTP)

Chapter 11

Playing Games with The Player
Chapter 11

Nash's POV

I hear the doorbell ring, wiping my eyes and getting up from the couch.

I walk around the coffee table, accidently knocking over a few empty glass bottles as my leg bumps into them.

"Coming."

Does anyone leave me alone?

I exhale a heavy sigh, and open the door carelessly.

"Hello?" I blink a few times, and then proceed in attempting to identify the figure in front of me.

"Nash? What on earth?" I recognize the southern female voice immediately. I rub my eyes in disbelief.

This cannot be real.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" She's everything but joyful, and I can't imagine what lecture I'm about to recieve from her.

My questions are quickly cut off, as she ignores any gestures to come in,

Instead, she moves past me, making her way throughout the living room leaving me standing at the foot of the door in surprise.

"Oh my God." A gasp falls from her lips, as I shut the door, forcing me to mentally sigh to myself.

I turn back toward her direction, hearing the glass bottles and aluminum cans slightly clang against each other.

"Two...thr-four..."

"Seven..." She counts repeatedly every container of alcohol she picks up, before she suddently pauses.

I stay silent, as does she, before walking into my kitchen and searching for a trashcan.

She disposes of them quickly before counting in the kitchen. She collects and throws away the rest that's left in the kitchen.

It's awkward for a few moments.

Speechless and frozen we both remain for what feels like an eternity.

"39, Nash. 39 drinks."

I remain silent, unsure of what to say to her.

"Are you doing anything else Nash?" She looks at me sternly.

A guy from the side, only a few times...rarely, I buy Adderall tablets from.

"No." I lie.

"What are these?" She throws a bag on the counter of circular orange pills.

"I don't take them all the time, just when I—."

"Nash, please. You need to get some help." She interrupts me, and I sigh, rubbing my eyes.

"Mom, I'm fine."

"You're not even standing up straight! I know everything. I'm your mother and I know you better than anyone else. And this—, is not a way of dealing with whatever you're going through."

I scoff at her, and make my way to my dining table before sitting down.

"I'm fine Mom." I repeat to her and she chuckles.

"Well since you're fine..."
She grabs the bag and turns to the sink, dumping them out and turns the faucet on.

I don't even bother to get up, I'm so unstable and tired I don't think I have enough energy to move, and more less argue with mom.

I slumo over, laying my head into my hand and it's not long before I hear mom sit down across from me.

"Who's buying you beer, and who are you buying tablets from?"