Just before sixth period lunch Monday afternoon Troiann caught me in the hall at my locker. The clever and nervous smile on her let me know she was up to something.
I eyed her cautiously. "What?"
"I've got a confession to make. I've been messing around with Marcus Hamilton." She said his last name like there was some other Marcus that would come to mind at the admission.
DeAndre had beaten her to the punch but I played along for the affect anyway. "Marcus 'the Dog' Hamilton?"
Troiann rolled her eyes. "I'm just hooking up with him, Cree. I don't even let that boy cuddle with me. But I do wanna make it up to you."
"How?"
"I've set you up on a date this weekend."
I hadn't heard her right. She hadn't said she was setting me up on a date with a complete stranger. No, my best friend wasn't stupid.
Seeing my reaction, Troiann went on. "Oh come on, Cree. It's about time you get out there and try."
"But I—"
Troiann went on, touching my hair and spouting off about her plans for the date. "Friday you'll go home and shower, and straighten your hair, paint your nails and ooh, I'll get you the outfit."
I took a step back, touching a strand of my hair. Usually, I wore my natural, textured hair down on my shoulders or sometimes up in a ponytail. I straightened my hair sometimes, but when I knew I would only sweat it out at the studio or stuff it in a hairnet at work, I would just leave it as it was. Still, my hair always looked presentable.
Looking down at my jeans and sweatshirt, I wondered what was so bad about my choice of clothing.
"What's wrong with how I am?" I dared to ask.
Troiann smiled politely. "Cree, babe, you're cute, but we're gonna need you to be bad to land you a play thing. Repeat after me, three S's, shower, straighten, and style."
I was partly curious, but before I could say anything, I felt myself being nudged forward, hard. Someone had walked into me, too forceful for it to be a mistake.
I looked over, finding Draya and a couple of her girls walking by.
Troiann spotted her too and took off before I could stop her. She caught Draya by the arm and cornered her in front of a locker. "Um, excuse you."
Draya smirked. "Excuse me? Your friend should watch where she's standing."
Oh I hated Draya Young.
Troiann shook her head. "Uh-uh, don't you go walking into my friend like that. Watch where you going before you catch it."
Draya laughed, looking to her friends as if Troiann were a joke. "Catch it?"
"You ask for a fade don't get mad when I grab the clippers."
Draya was unfazed as she rolled her eyes. "Move, midget, I gotta get to lunch. Ain't nobody afraid of you."
No one talked about Troiann's height and got away with it. She wasn't that short, but calling her a midget always set her off. "Midget?"
"Yeah, got a hearing problem?"
Troiann pulled her sleeves up past her elbows. She pointed a finger in Draya's face, about to say something foul, I could already tell by the sneer on her face. "Drink bleach and die, Draya."
Troiann was a loose cannon when pissed and for that I attempted to grab her.
I held my crazy best friend back as much as I could. "Stop it, Troy. I got this."
"I don't like you!" Draya shouted over to Troiann, trying to stir up some more drama.
How could any guy like Draya? She was stuck-up and bougie without the actual background to back it up. Rumor had it her mom was nothing but trailer trash who tried to get on with the next up-and-coming successful man, but ended up on her ass with Draya and alone.
Shoving Troiann out of the way before it could get worse, I replaced her spot in front of Draya. "Shut up and leave her alone. You don't like us, and we don't like you. There doesn't have to be communication or anything, stay in your lane and we'll stay in ours."
Draya smirked, eyeing me from head to toe. "And what lane is that, Cree, Basic Bitches 'R' Us?"
I almost, almost, felt tempted to sic Troiann on her, or better yet, handle her myself. But girls like Draya, they were going nowhere in life without the assistance of the government, so why bother, she had already lost.
"Funny, there's nothing cute about you, Draya," I said.
"Is that right? It's crazy how almost every boy in school is dying to get a taste, including the Balla you following around like a lost puppy."
A Balla? I hadn't a Balla to claim. "Who?"
"DeAndre Parker."
"Dre's not mine."
Draya rolled her eyes, walking past me. "Got that right."
I should've gone after her, but I was frozen in my confusion. I hung out with all the Ballas, more with Tremaine than DeAndre, and yet people like Draya thought I was following DeAndre around, like a puppy?
Troiann stood beside me, reaching up and removing her earrings, prepared to throw down.
"Troy." I reached out and grabbed her arm.
"Uh-uh, no, ain't no way she's getting away with that. My mom told me when I was young that there are two types of women: the kind that marry, and the kind that never will. That's the type of chick dudes run through 'cause she pretty but they never stay with her because she's foul. She's making us mixed chicks look bad."
The fact that she was serious made me laugh and calm down. Draya Young was nothing to get upset over. I didn't like her and I wouldn't let her win by getting on my last good nerve.
Instead, I led my best friend down to the cafeteria where we gathered our lunches. It was too cold outside to be on quad, and so we found a seat with the Ballas at the far corner of the room where all the other athletes seemed to migrate. It was some kind of cliché that all the basketball and football players sat together with the cheerleaders right by their side. So cliché indeed.
The Ballas were at a table by themselves and just like the usual table we sat at out on the quad, the table was long, leaving enough space for Troiann and me to sit on either side of Tremaine.
"Okay, Troy, tell me more about this date you set me up with." I gave in as we sat at the table.
"Well, he's cute, really sweet and he's just looking to find the right girl," Troiann replied.
How was I to know if I could trust her judgment, she was messing with Marcus after all.
The Ballas stopped their line of conversation and poked in on ours.
"Cree's got a date?" Tremaine sat up and looked over at me and then at Troiann.
Troy appeared proud of herself. "Yes, I found a nice guy who's perfect for her."
Tremaine frowned. "We should've gotten a say."
"Um, what?" Now he was acting like my older brother or something.
"We know dudes and we can tell who's out to just feed you a dream and smash," Marcus cut in.
"And dude better not have struggle braids neither," said Tremaine.
Like I'd date a boy with cornrows like some wannabe thug. Well, A$AP Rocky and Pusha T got a pass, but no more than them.
Not only had the Ballas become my friends, they had turned into four variations of my father.
Troiann waved him off. "I know what type of guys my best friend likes. I wouldn't set her up with just anybody."
"What type of guys you like, Cree?" Chris asked.
They all turned to me and I felt in the spotlight, not liking it at all. "Uh, honest, smart, hardworking, follows the rules?"
Tremaine began to laugh, as did the other Ballas, except for DeAndre who didn't seem to be paying us any attention.
Tremaine reached out and patted my shoulder. "You know what your problem is?"
"What?"
"You've got a bad taste in dudes, which explains why you was never feelin' me."
I focused on my lunch, poking at the school's version of macaroni. "I just want a good guy, Trey."
"And you can get you one, you just gotta be a little more fun and open. When you get to college you gotta at least give your dude a threesome, or else he may resent you."
"Trey—"
I cut Troiann off, tired of Tremaine's talk of threesomes for acceptance. "Okay, fine, I'll give my future boyfriend a threesome."
Tremaine sat back, smiling. "Word?"
"Yup, but if I have to get down with another girl he's gotta get down with another guy. They gotta kiss and play with each other and everything, it's only fair."
All of the Ballas mirrored the same look of disgust while DeAndre sat by me snickering. I guess he was paying attention after all.
Tremaine frowned. "You nasty. That's not a threesome, that's a train and it's gross."
"Fair's fair, Trey."
I loved my father because he was all those things I listed that I wanted in a guy, and even if in the beginning I didn't like him with Loraine, I admired the way he treated her as an equal and not some weak woman beside him. My father taught me women were made as complements to men, as partners and helpers, but that didn't mean we were less than men and should've been weak minded to the point that we depended on them. My father taught me to fix things myself and he tried to show me cars, though it never stuck.
Thanks to my father, I wanted a boy who would see me as his equal and yet play the role as the man when needed be. A boy who would consider my feelings and opinion before making decisions for the both of us. A boy who was respectable and wouldn't pressure me to be anything that I wasn't. A boy who was okay with my dressing the way that I dressed and sometimes would wear my hair in a bun for a week. A boy who didn't deem the idea of love as something to avoid because of our age or place in life.
I felt like laughing. I wanted a boy who didn't exist.
Troiann's mother didn't play and when it came to women empowerment, she instilled that in both Troiann and me. Anh was strong, but she would admit that her biggest weakness was Troiann's father. She didn't want us to be dependent on boys or later men, and she didn't want us to be weak minded either. There was a reason Troiann spoke her mind and didn't back down from a fight and it all had to do with her mother.
I envied it, I really did.
I didn't know much about my mother but I wished she were alive to help me figure out the whole dating situation and boys. In my gut, it was simple, no, I would never allow myself to be the girl in waiting for a guy in a relationship. I couldn't allow myself to be cheated on. I didn't want to be the "main girl" or the "side girl," I just wanted to be the only girl. Maybe I was old fashioned or naïve, but I thought the point of a relationship was to be mature and one on one. What was the point of games and cheating? If you didn't like someone, why not just end it?
DeAndre hadn't uttered a thing. I looked his way to find him texting on his phone.
"Don't you have any input?" I asked.
He shrugged indifferently. "Relationships is for the birds. Fuck who you wanna fuck and don't commit to anyone you're not really trying to kick it with exclusively. Ain't no way I'm going to date a girl and cheat on her and disrespect her and potentially have her doing crazy shit to my car or clothing. It's not worth it. If I tell a girl she's mine, she's mine, no games, no lies, nothing. That's what being single is for if you're just out to fuck and avoid responsibility, not when you cuff a chick."
DeAndre went back to texting on his phone and I again felt confused. Damn his enigma. He was the king and leader of the Ballas on the surface, and yet the more I was around him and the more he spoke, he did not seem to imitate their behavior at all. They were all smart, but DeAndre seemed to have it more together. While he was still a heartbreaker, he hadn't ever "exclusively" dated anyone from my knowledge. His trail of broken hearts led strictly from his bedroom, not from some short lived relationship.
At least one of the Ballas was almost there.
Still, I wished my mother was alive so I could have her perspective on the matter. The new school way of dating and hanging with the opposite sex seemed so hard to handle. Was it wrong for a girl to want to feel special and be with someone who wanted to be with her?
Troiann may have just been sleeping with Marcus, but her head was on straight, hopefully enough so that my impending date wouldn't be a disaster.
But then again, I wasn't out to be like her and Marcus. I didn't want to give myself to a boy who only intended to sleep with me. I wanted to make love, wasn't that the purpose of getting physical? To do something beautiful and with someone you cared about? I didn't want to hurriedly give up my virginity just because I still had it and people thought I was missing out.
I was stumped and if the boy Troiann set me up with was anything like the Ballas, I was in for a hell date.
Tremaine tapped my arm. "Yo, if the date goes well maybe ol' dude can come see you in the talent show."
Talent show? "I'm not in the talent show."
The boys all appeared confused, as did Troiann.
"I saw your name on the list by the guidance counselor's office," Chris spoke up.
"I didn't...." I stopped, looking to the only person who hadn't said a thing and DeAndre didn't even have the nerve to appear apologetic. "What did you do?"
"If I'm going to sit through that boring shit with a bunch of basic people showing their 'talent' I might as sit through it and see you saved for last. You can win if you do some dance routine."
Wasn't it my decision to decide if I wanted to go to the damn show in the first place, let alone be in the show?
"You'll be fine, Cree."
My fist was shaking and I had half a mind to knock the eased expression off of his face. "You can't just go doing shit like that, Dre!"
He rolled his eyes and went back to his phone. "Scared?"
And now he was challenging me?
"Dre says you're a good dancer but we haven't seen a thing," Tremaine said gesturing to the rest of the Ballas.
It was just dancing, something I enjoyed. Plus, DeAndre had a point; it was either the talent show or being stuck in class.
Still, I wanted to kill the asshole for signing me up without even speaking to me. I knew he did it out of a good place and that was the only reason I calmed down as I faced him.
"Fine, I'm going to give you my trust on this. It's yours."
DeAndre's eyes darted up from his phone. He looked at me quizzically. "What?"
"My trust," I repeated, "it's yours. I trust you with this talent show thing because I know you did it out of a good place."
DeAndre stared at me longer before shaking his head. "You're weird, Cree."
Tremaine tugged on my arm. "You should do it because it'll be better than the rest of these kids singing terribly."
"You know you can outdo half of these hefas," Troiann added.
Having my friends support, I shrugged. "Fine."
The conversation shifted back to relationships and I was lost back in my thoughts.
Lunch ended and Troiann and Tremaine were still going on debating relationships. I was about to stand and head for my next class when I felt a hand rest on my thigh.
DeAndre held his hand up, signaling for me to wait while the others left.
"Yeah?" I asked.
He waited until Chris walked off with Marcus, starting their own debate, before he began to speak. "Nervous?"
I looked down at my floral print sneakers. "Am I that obvious?"
"Just be yourself, Cree. If anything goes wrong, call me."
"Seriously?"
He held his hand out, nodding his head. "Word is bond."
I shook his hand. "Okay." Not knowing what else to say, I added, "Thanks."
Together we stood from the table and headed for class.
DeAndre jabbed my shoulder. "You'll be okay, you're cute, you've got talent and you're a nice girl. Like I said, you're too good for guys like us, don't let what they say get to you."
His words caused me to stop walking. "But cute's not bad."
DeAndre stopped too. "No, it's not."
"But that's what boys like."
DeAndre didn't respond right away and I knew he knew I found a hole in his attempt to make me feel better.
The longer he took to find something to say the more hurt I felt.
"I-I gotta get to class. I'm sure Troy's already there waiting for me and planning my date. And I'll figure this talent show thing out. I'll see you."
I didn't wait for him to respond or catch up. I tugged on my messenger's strap and headed for class, feeling completely plain and basic.
* * *
Troiann had it all set. Friday night I went over her house and together we rode to her father's condo. Troy figured if we got ready at Mr. Jackson's place we could hide my date from Loraine and my father, and if it didn't work out the boy would have no clue where I really lived.
Troiann's parents were fickle. One minute they were shacked up together at Anh's house being a family, the next they were on the outs and Mr. Jackson, or Howard as Troiann called him, was staying back at his condo downtown. They'd never married but were on and off for years since spawning Troiann.
She wouldn't say it out loud, but I knew my best friend was tired of all the back and forth. Anh wouldn't date but Mr. Jackson would, pissing both Anh and Troiann off. I never said anything bad about Mr. Jackson. He always asked about my dancing and told me I should've taught Troiann. When he and Anh were on again he would take us all out and treat me like his second daughter. He still did when it was just Troiann and me.
Together Troiann and I hung in her bedroom at her father's condo. I sat in a robe at her vanity while Troiann set out makeup along the tabletop, prepared to fix me up.
"Your eyebrows aren't bad, but it's been two weeks, time for a touchup." Troiann arched my eyebrows first before doing my mascara and eyeliner. She then stood back and stared at my hair.
"Can we leave it as is?" We only had so long before my date showed up.
Troiann tugged and pulled on my hair. "We gotta tame it some way. Oughta give you a perm."
I felt my face deadpan. I may not have ever had those chemicals in my hair before, but I knew she was wrong. "Troy, a perm curls your hair and a relaxer straightens it. And my hair is not nappy."
"I'm only half black, Cree, gees," Troiann shot back. "And your hair is dope, but we gotta make it look sexy for tonight."
The top I was wearing underneath my robe made me feel very bare. Hair down it was.
"Just leave it down, Troy. Just in case he keeps sneaking peeks at my breasts all night."
It was a very good thing I was sneaking with the date, or else my father would've grounded me into the next century for attempting to leave the house wearing a bustier top. As soon as I developed breasts and they kept growing my father barred me from wearing tank tops. I wasn't even a D-cup, but my chest did catch attention growing up. Harlem Allen said I had "pointy titties" back in the fifth grade when they were still coming in and his cousin poked fun of me until I showed him one. Of course, that was when I was eleven, now at seventeen and a C-cup, my father was still quick to tell me to put a t-shirt on.
The studded black bustier with spaghetti straps definitely called attention to my breasts and exposed navel. The long pale pink maxi skirt at least hid the curves of my legs and butt.
Troiann conceded and went about styling my hair to her liking.
"He's not a total dork, is he?" I wanted to know.
"Of course not. He's no Balla and that's all that matters. Dereon's in college though."
A college boy? "Really?"
"A freshman, but yeah."
"Oh wow. Do you think I've got what it takes?" I had never had a real boyfriend or serious suitor. The guys who hit on me were usually old and drunks traveling from the liquor store in Henry's. Or assholes who catcalled to me on the street. Prince Mandingo never approached me.
"Uh, duh, Cree."
"But I'm not 'bad.' " Oh how I'd grown to hate that word.
Troiann took a step back. "My best friend is not basic. And tonight you are going to be the baddest bitch in town. Believe that."
Mr. Jackson poked his head in the door, eyeing Troiann as she came forth lining my lips in lip gloss. He shook his head. "You girls have so much to learn. You should want nothing to do with a boy who sees you as a bitch."
Troiann clicked her tongue. "Says you. That's all you call your play things."
"And that's exactly how I treat 'em, like dogs. 'Cept your momma, she was always special."
Troiann scowled and ran her fingers through my hair, a little too hard, showing her anger. "And look how you did her. We don't need your advice, Howard."
Mr. Jackson shook his head and vacated the room.
She huffed, going and tossing the tube of lip gloss on the desk, so hard it bounced and rolled onto the floor.
She made no attempt to pick it up.
"So you and Marcus, huh?" I said to change the subject.
Troiann rolled her eyes and backed away, going and sitting on her bed. "It's not like that, Cree. We just hook up. You and I, we deserve better than Ballas. Guys like that are nothing but trouble. They only make baby mommas, not wives."
Tremaine once told me I was good enough to "leave it in" with. He gave the most awkward compliments.
"So it's just sex?"
Troiann nodded. "He wears a condom and I'm on the pill. It's nothing. I know better." She stood and came over to me and undid my robe, urging me to stand up and model myself for her. "Though DeAndre may have his head on straight at least."
My best friend was beautiful. Gorgeous. A bad bitch, if I was being on the Ballas' level. DeAndre and Troiann would make sense, but I got the feeling it wasn't that simple with Marcus. Troiann deserved better than DeAndre anyway. He was damaged.
"Really, you and Dre?"
Troiann smirked. "You know how it is, Cree. They can sleep with the both of us and get praised, but on our end it's like we're nothing but Tackle Bunnies. Besides, Marcus would probably cry or something."
"Anh would like you two probably."
"Oh you know that woman would love that negro with his muscles and good looks."
The thought made me sad suddenly. "Yeah."
Troiann stopped fussing over my outfit and paused. "What?"
"Nothing."
She wasn't fooled. "No, what?"
"I was just wishing that my mom was here, to talk about boys and dating and how relationships should be. I'm just now letting Loraine in, but...forget it."
Troiann frowned. "You can have my mom, too."
My eyes watered. "But it's not the same."
"Don't cry. Do not ruin my makeup." Troiann tried to joke as she began waving her hands in my eyes. "Hey, what's the first thing I told you when we became best friends?"
I couldn't fight my smile. "That your mom had two daughters, Troiann Ciara and Cree Michelle."
"Right, we're sisters, Cree. My mom is your mom and your dad is my dad, and nobody wants Howard."
My best friend was the best.
I laughed. "He's not that bad, Troy."
She gagged. "Whatever."
Mr. Jackson poked his head in the room. "A boy's out here waiting for Cree."
Butterflies blossomed and fluttered in my stomach.
Here we go.
Together Troiann and I walked out to the living room where a boy stood with a flower. He was tall, a couple of shades lighter than me, and staring right at me.
"People say he looks like Chris Brown," Troiann leaned over and whispered in my ear.
He did not. He was fairly handsome, not in that stop-and-do-a-double-take kind of way, subtler.
"You must be Cree. I'm Dereon." He came over and shook my hand with a nice, firm grip. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Dereon stared into my eyes, making me feel small and unable to hold eye contact for too long. The tone of his voice and the way he was staring at me let me know he meant business. That everything said was to the point and serious.
"You won't have her out too late, will you?" Mr. Jackson asked, exposing those muscled arms of his as he crossed them.
Dereon wasn't intimidated. "No, sir. Ten p.m. at the latest."
I hoped we were going dancing. It was such a carefree activity, and no pressure rather than the cliché dinner and movie.
It was late April and it was just starting to warm up, but I was already regretting letting Troiann dress me in such a light and revealing top as soon as I stepped outside with Dereon.
He handed me the flower and led me down to his car.
Dereon opened my door for me and I got in and buckled up as he closed it shut.
He got in beside me and my nerves increased a notch. It wasn't just because it was my first ever date, it was also because his whole vibe had me nervous. I knew he was older, but everything just felt odd.
"You're almost done with school, excited?" he asked as he began driving.
"Yeah, a little, but it's not really over. I mean, there's college."
"What are you going for?"
That was a good question. I wanted to study dance, but I knew my father would have an aneurysm if I even brought it up. "Secretly I wanna do dancing, but my father wouldn't have it. I guess I'm undecided."
"He has a point," Dereon replied. "I mean, you have to be a bit realistic in this day and age."
Ouch.
"Right. Dancing is a reach that's too far out of my grasp."
"You should spend your senior year looking at a lot of schools and seeing their programs. And join a few organizations. I work with the NAACP and I campaigned for the president. That's good stuff to have on file, Cree. My older brothers never did that, they have no degrees and are both working jobs they don't really care for."
What good was telling people to have dreams only to tell them that they were impossible? I knew I wasn't good enough to go big time with dancing and that I was too "thick" to really be considered a ballerina, but still, I at least wanted to learn more in college about technique and build more on my hobby. I didn't want to go to school and aspire to be a lawyer or something in the medical field just because those occupations equaled money. What good was money when you weren't happy? I hated every minute of working at Henry's. I hated the customers and the grimy part of cooking food and having to clean at the end of the shift. I hated the job and I didn't want to spend the rest of my life there like Old Miss Susana who was going on her twentieth year.
I guess I had a lot of soul searching to do when it came to the rest of my life.
Dereon pulled up further downtown to a quiet little restaurant I'd only heard adults talk about. House of Solé was my father and Loraine's favorite spot to go and get some good old fashioned soul food. There weren't that many black owned businesses downtown, but House of Solé was the spot. The family owned restaurant went back for many generations and was highly praised in newspapers and magazines all across the country. The place was a tad bit expensive, hence my father's only having taken me once, but I had to give Dereon his props for bringing me on our first date.
Together we were seated across from each other at a table in a quiet corner. Dereon stared at me and I forced myself to pretend to take interest in the menu.
Whatever I decided on, peach cobbler had to be for dessert.
"So," he began, "this is nice. I'm glad Troiann hooked us up, you're a beautiful girl, Cree."
Did beautiful beat bad?
With my eyes glued to my menu still, I said, "Thank you."
"Look me in the eyes when you thank me."
The tone and the authority in his voice made me do just that. He sat waiting and watching me across the table. "Thank you, Dereon."
He nodded. "Troiann tells me this is your first date."
"It is."
"I doubt I'm the first person who's ever been interested in you before."
Depending on your definition of "interest," Dereon was.
"I don't know, I guess it's because I never really wanted to date or ignored guys who approached me," I said.
Dereon's brows furrowed and he sat back. "Why?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why would someone want to be alone?"
"It wasn't about wanting to be alone, it was just about not feeling those guys who approached me."
"You never know until you give them a chance."
"I'm pretty positive the right guy doesn't approach you with a 'hey, ma.' " That was the ultimate turn off. My name wasn't "ma" or "shorty" or even worse "baby girl."
"Some people just don't know any better, Cree. I hope you can give me a chance. Troiann's told some things about you, I'm pretty sure this can all work out."
He looked sure as well. Something about his optimism turned me off.
"Let's hope so," was all I could say in return.
Again he looked so assure. "I know so. I feel from your vibe that we can take each other to the next level."
Did he really just say that...on the first date?
"Wow. Levels, huh?"
"Yes, maybe I can teach you some things and you can teach me a few things."
"What if I don't want to be taught and just want to ride out this wave as time goes on?"
Dereon shook his head. "You gotta open your mind and give me a chance. I'm not like those other guys. I have a good paying job, I make good money, I'm getting a good education, trust me, I know what I'm talking about."
"And you think together we can go to the top?"
"I think I can help you be where you need to be, and you can help me."
And he got all this from my vibe? I could've sworn I came off nervous and shy, not in need of assistance.
"With me, Cree, you can just be yourself. You don't have to dress that way or wear makeup. It's okay to just be bare."
His words slightly ticked me off. I liked wearing makeup every once in a while when Troiann wanted to get dolled up. I liked spicing it up sometimes and wearing cuter clothes than what I wore on the usual.
"I like how I look right now," I said.
Again Dereon shook his head. "We're gonna work on you."
"Excuse me, I have to go powder my nose or whatever." I made sure to smile nice and friendly before excusing myself from the table.
Instead of heading towards the women's restroom, I headed straight out the door and down the block, pulling my phone out of my bra and calling Troiann.
"Please, God, pick up and save me," I prayed into the phone as I kept walking. It was rude to abandon my date but the brotha was coming on way too strong and way too assertive for me. Sometimes it could be sexy for a guy to tell you what to do, and others, when they came off controlling like Dereon, no, it wasn't the business.
Troiann's phone went straight to voicemail twice.
"Shit." I hit END and tried Tremaine, but of course his phone did the same.
I stopped walking and leaned against the brick building I was standing near. I didn't want to call Loraine and I couldn't call my father. The only person left for me to call was the last person I wanted to see.
Tilting my head back, I stared at the sky. "Why do you hate me?"
DeAndre answered on the second ring. "What's up?"
"Can you come and get me?" I pitied myself for sounding pathetic.
"What's wrong?" I could hear him sitting up in the background and something on TV going mute.
"I can't do this date, Dre. I need a ride out of here, but if you're busy I can just—"
"Nah, where you at?" The jiggling of keys could be heard next. He was coming to save me. Thank God.
I waited on the fountain by the university and sat scrolling through my phone, anything to distract myself from the students who would pass by me on their way to their dorms.
A sleek black car pulled up a few yards away and soon DeAndre was getting out and heading over to me.
I stood up from the fountain and kept my distance as DeAndre kept his, coming and standing in front of me but keeping space between us.
He didn't look amused by my failed date or annoyed that I'd called him. He looked apologetic even.
He spoke first. "Hi."
"Hi."
"I know you didn't want to see me."
"I didn't."
"And I know you needed space."
"I did."
"But I'm glad when you knew you needed someone you called."
I kept my focus down at the ground. "Troiann was busy and Tremaine was MIA."
"I was with Marcus when Troiann called, and Tremaine's with Chris."
"Okay."
DeAndre took a step closer and looked around. "Where is he?"
"At House of Solé probably just figuring out I ditched him."
"Do I need to...?" He let the threat hang in the air.
I blinked. "No, no, he was just...no."
He came closer and stood in front of me. "You look nice, Cree."
I started to walk past him. "Sure."
He grabbed my arm, forcing me back. "I mean it."
The look in his eyes let me know he wasn't bullshitting me. It made me annoyed when I thought of what happened between us earlier in the cafeteria at school.
I punched his shoulder. "I'm still mad at you."
DeAndre held his hands up. "You can take all your frustration out on me. I know I fucked up and I'm sorry."
I pointed my finger in his face. "Don't try to be a nice guy now, Dre."
"I didn't say I was a nice guy. Look, I know I'm a dick and I own that. I said we'd be friends, and that's why I'm here. When Tremaine fucks up with me, I can't stand his ass, but I know if he needed me or vice versa, I'd be there. You needed me tonight and here I am. What I said at school—"
"It's whatever." I shook my head. "Cute girls like me only get weirdos and egomaniacs to ask them out. Bad bitches like Draya Young get the good guys. That's just how it is. Good guys are too busy trying to save the bad bitch and the bad guys aren't any good. I can deal."
Now DeAndre looked annoyed. "Don't compare yourself to Draya Young, Cree."
"I'm not, because I don't compare." She was a bitch, but a pretty one.
DeAndre rolled his eyes. "Draya's bad as fuck, that no one can deny, but she's not it in the long run."
"It?"
"I just want to fuck, that's it, nothing else. She's not the girl I'd want to settle down with. It's vanity and that's not it for me, Cree."
At least my newest friend would never attempt to wife a girl like Draya.
I calmed down. "You think about settling down?"
"When I feel the time is appropriate, yes."
"And you plan on being faithful and honest?"
"I may be an asshole, but I don't intend to be one forever. I'm used to seeing guys all around me being unfaithful, keeping girls hidden and all this drama but I don't wanna hurt anyone when I make the official step. For me to be in a relationship, that's going to be big, and as far as marriage, that's even bigger. I'm a boy now, but when I connect with that right person, I aim to be a man and respect her."
I could hate DeAndre forever when it came to his enigma. It was entirely frustrating.
So I punched his arm once more. "Do not keep doing that."
DeAndre took a step back. "Doing what?"
"That mysterious thing. One minute you're this dick and the next you're showing you may actually have it together."
He shrugged. "I'm not so simple, Cree."
"That's good, Dre, you stick to that. These other guys are out here playin' hard and cheating and hurting girls and women because they think it's the 'man' thing to do and it's okay. At least some of you know when play time's over."
"I'm just not for the drama. If you wanna fuck every girl in the world, be single."
I looked down and kicked at some stray trash. "The rest of the Ballas could learn from you."
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I'll survive."
He gave me a crooked smile. "Friends?"
As much as he could annoy me, I felt okay with him enough to agree. "Friends."
Soon, he shook his head. "Best friends."
DeAndre opened his arms out, and just when I thought he'd hug me, he reached out and patted my arms in an awkward attempt to show affection.
It was all messed-up.
I shook my head and led the way to his car and together we got in.
"So tell me, what was it like that made it so bad?" DeAndre asked.
I sat back and rolled my eyes. "He was too much, you know? He told me that together we could take each other to the next level. That he could enhance me and vice versa."
DeAndre snorted, slapping the steering wheel as he drove. "My dude was a supreme hope dealer, sellin' dreams by the ounce."
I laughed. "I don't think he's ever sold a dream in his life."
Dereon's whole vibe was just too much for me.
"And then he got on me about my wanting to take dance in college and how I dressed and wore makeup."
"This dude sounds wack. I don't care if a girl wears makeup or none, has a weave or real hair, that doesn't equate to her personality."
"When I'm at home I just wanna wear sweatshirts, sometimes my dad makes me feel ashamed of my body. When I get around Troy I can breathe a little, and then that asshole says I'm dressed all wrong."
DeAndre glanced at me. "I like your body, it's nice. Whether I do, or anyone else does, you have to like it and be comfortable with it. If you want to wear form fitting clothes, do so. Don't let anyone stop you from seeing yourself, Cree."
I felt a smile break across my face. "Thanks." At least DeAndre wasn't psycho like Dereon had been. "Plus he told me how he's 'not like those other guys.' And how he had a 'good' paying job and made 'good' money and was getting a 'good' education."
"Frontin' 101: Never brag about your money. You might as well take your dick out and show how small it is."
"You've never bragged about your money?"
"I'm Darrel Parker's son, it's kinda assumed. Plus I don't have money like that."
His father was a famous NBA player. How could he even pretend he hadn't any equity? "Sure."
"I'm serious, I have to earn what I have, it's not just handed to me."
"Still, most kids have to earn twenty dollars. You receive things people have to work their whole lives to earn."
"I don't have it that easy, Cree."
"I'm sure in your mind you don't having to earn your father's love—"
"My father loves me. I don't have to earn his love with basketball."
It seemed that way.
It was hard to miss the bite in his tone, I'd offended him and I hadn't meant to.
"I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. But FYI, if a guy has to tell you he's not like those other guys, chances are, he's exactly like them. I'm not into bragging, I'd rather show you better than I can tell you."
"Oh, is that true, Mr. 'I'm a real dude'?"
DeAndre lightened up and smiled. "You got jokes."
"I have to get past this. Never let your friends set you up on a date, ever."
"Noted. My boys know better to pull the shit Troy pulled with you. I don't date for one, and for two, I know my taste in the idea of dating department. Sometimes who you're willing to bed and who you're willing to date are two mutually exclusive things. Plus, it's all bullshit."
His words piqued my curiosity.
"So, I have a question," I nervously announced a moment later.
"I might have an answer," DeAndre replied.
"What makes you so sure you'd be bad to me? If we were together or something."
"I don't do relationships. I don't know how and it's not my thing. My eye is on the prize and that's basketball, I can't let anything get in the way of that."
"But you said you could be good where it counted."
A small smile turned the corner of DeAndre's mouth. "I can be good in bed, but bad in life, Cree. I'd rather be honest and upfront than fill your head up with lies. Love and all that shit is not for me."
"But how can you know if you don't try?" I didn't want to be with DeAndre, he wasn't my type and I wasn't his, but I couldn't understand his grasp on things.
DeAndre appeared thoughtful, but then he scowled. "I don't have time to catch feelings. I've got too much going on to lose focus. I'm not supposed to fall in love. I'm supposed to play basketball."
Still, couldn't he have both? "Why are you so against dating?"
"I'm not. The way I see it, I'm seventeen years old, my focus right now should be on maintaining my grades, training for basketball season and keeping my eyes on the prize. We're young, Cree, we do not have to date seriously right now or fall in love. That can wait for later, it's not going anywhere. I think it's pathetic the way some people try to force it on you."
"When you put it that way it doesn't sound like you're so against it. But what did you mean in class when you said love wasn't just a verb, you clearly haven't ever dated."
"Love isn't just something you feel for a significant other. I love my father, I love my brothers, I love my friends, and I love basketball. That love is an entity, a noun, an adjective; it's more than my showing them and vice versa."
No, DeAndre wasn't so simple at all.
A familiar song came on the radio and just as I was going to reach down to turn it up DeAndre beat me to the punch. He had one hand on the wheel as he leaned back, snapping his fingers on the other and bobbing his head.
"This shit never gets old." He turned to me, seeing if I agreed.
"I'd Rather Be with You" by Bootsy Collins never got old. Of course, none of the classics from back in the day ever did.
"Hell yeah," I agreed, digging the iconic tune. "You weren't busy when I called, were you?"
"Nah. I was watching Belly."
"I haven't seen that in ages."
"You wanna come through? Or do you have to go home?"
"I could fangirl over DMX and Nas." I smiled as I thought of the '90s rap gods.
DeAndre shook his head and changed the direction he'd been driving, going and heading for his house instead. "I oughta stop and get something. I could kill for a turkey sandwich right now."
"You got some turkey at your house?"
"I think so."
"I'll make us a sandwich, I'm starving too."
He laughed. "Damn, Cree, you should've at least eaten first before dippin' out."
I should've.
DeAndre pulled into his driveway ten minutes later and killed the engine. He faced me and jabbed my arm. "You'll be all right, Cree. You just need a good dude that's gonna treat you right."
"And you need a freak for the sheets that knows when to leave in the morning."
"Damn, you right." DeAndre held his hand out and we high-fived, sharing a laugh.
We got out of the car and I followed DeAndre to the front door.
"Most of all you need a dude that knows how to hold you down," he was saying as he let us in. "Not no clown ass guy who wants to 'change' you or some other shit."
Devonte passed us by on his way to the staircase, stopping and noticing my presence. He looked to DeAndre and grinned. "I told you not to listen to Darnel, Dre."
DeAndre sighed. "I'm not."
Devonte's eyes shifted to me. " 'Sup, Cree?"
I waved. "Hey, Devonte."
He angled his head, blatantly checking me out. "I see things were blossoming underneath those heavy sweatshirts of yours. Not bad."
" 'Te!" DeAndre snapped in my defense.
Devonte shrugged and jogged up the dual staircase, disappearing on the second floor.
DeAndre just shook his head and led the way back to the kitchen where he tossed his keys on the counter and showed me to the pantry and fridge.
I gathered the turkey and ham and swizz cheese along with the rest of the ingredients needed to make the sandwiches and stood at the counter putting them together as DeAndre sat on top of the counter further down from me, observing.
"Basically, don't rush it, Cree," DeAndre said after a few moments of silence.
Maybe I had agreed to the date to just taste what everyone else was experiencing. I once heard a girl say being a virgin past sixteen was just lame and unacceptable, let alone graduating one. I was fine with my virginity, and okay with my single status, maybe DeAndre was right.
"Maybe you're right."
He tapped his temple. "Love is not just a verb, it's more, remember that."
Now he was educating me on love? DeAndre himself didn't even live in a home that gave off the presence of love, how could he know what love was?
I finished making the sandwiches, turning and just staring at DeAndre until he caught on.
"What?" he asked.
"You don't know how to love, do you?"
He looked down at his shoes, shaking his head. "No."
This poor boy. "Maybe you just need to be taught."
"Maybe someday I'll meet someone who will teach me," DeAndre agreed. "But until then, I know I love basketball, and I'm not going to let someone take that away from me and force me to be in something that's not on my mind right now."
He'd learn on his own and allow someone to caress him far deeper than a simple touch. DeAndre was damaged, too damaged, and it'd take a special girl to work with him, and show him how to love and be affectionate and passionate. I wondered if it were possible for someone to undo all the years of coldness he'd suffered through. Either way, they had their work cut out for them.
I handed him his sandwich on a plate. "Word of advice, I hope you know the chances of finding real, true love when you're in the NBA are slim."
"Then I'll aim for college."
"Yeah?"
"Someday, Cree."
"She's going to have to be really patient," I joked.
He squinted, opening his arms as if to gesture to himself. "Yo, what are you saying?"
I headed past him, heading to the dining room. "Oh nothing, let's eat."
______________
"Teach Me" – Musiq Soulchild (Could NOT be anymore PERFECT for DeAndre)