Playin' Hard (Original version)

Twenty-nine

I looked elsewhere.

"Why are you here, DeAndre?" I asked.

He ran his hands down his face, letting out a heavy, strained breath. "I got in a fight with my dad and I-I hit him. I fucking hit my dad, Cree."

Shit.

Judging from the looks of his handsome face, his father hadn't hit back.

Without asking for more, I grabbed his hand and led him up to my bedroom, closing the door behind us. We went and sat on my bed and I watched as DeAndre leaned over, bowing his head and drooping his shoulders.

I didn't know what to do. Instinct told me to touch him, caress him, but things were different now.

Reaching out, I hesitated before placing my hand on his back.

"What happened?" I asked.

He shook his head, staring down at the carpet. "I just asked why my mother left us. He said it was because he used to be out on the road and giving in to Lay-up Bunnies. He acted like it was her fault for leaving, that she overreacted to his cheating. And then when I threw it back at him about pushing people away, Darnel included, he...he called my brother a bitch and I lost it."

It was both a surprise and shock. DeAndre didn't seem like the type to ever get mad, let alone mad enough to hit someone. In some ways, I'd always envied his calmness and nonchalance, in others, I found it irritating.

I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close. "I'm sorry, Dre."

It didn't last long before he fought me off and pulled away. "Don't," he said.

Right, he wasn't good about affection, let alone comfort when he was down.

"I shouldn't have come here," he said. "The best thing I did for you was end it. You deserve better than some guy like me with all these fucking problems. I'm sure being friends with Troy isn't this dramatic."

My heart ached, knowing that I had already fallen for a guy like him.

I snorted. "She did end up with Marcus."

DeAndre looked over at me. "I'm sorry for intruding."

I hated this. I hated that things were so far gone between us that he had to be sorry for needing my help or company. Most of all, I hated that I'd given in and stopped being his friend. I should've fought for it, because when I needed someone, he was there for me.

I wanted to hold him, but settled for reaching out and taking his hand. "No, I'm sorry for abandoning you when you really needed a friend. This was never a burden, Dre. You were there for me, so let me be here for you."

He took his hand back. "I'm not the one you owe an apology to." He glanced at me, seeming serious now. "Trey's been cool with you from day one and that shit you said in class Thursday wasn't called for."

Of course he would drop the subject and turn the tables on me.

"I know," I said. "It wasn't right but—"

"No buts, Cree. You need to fix that."

Bossy DeAndre was Strict DeAndre. "Yes, Daddy," I mocked.

He rolled his eyes and looked over, noticing my paused movie. "Save the Last Dance?"

I nodded. "It's such a good movie."