know what? I donât even care who youâre going with. It ainât with me, so whatever,â Sam says. He starts banging out chords on the keyboard like heâs lost his ever-loving mind.
âOh, calm down! Iâm going with my friend DeShawn. Heâs not my boyfriend, so you can stop tripping.â
âI saw how that dude was all on you in that video. We werenât even broken up yet. Why you talking about me playing you? It looks like you were doing some playing too,â Sam says.
Okay, now Iâm about to be on anger and fury level ten. I know heâs not about to sit up here and accuse me of being unfaithful. Not when I was the one who was holding on to us for dear life.
âDonât do that, Sam. Do not do that.â
âDonât do what? Donât throw your past dirt up in your face? Why not? Thatâs how you do me. I canât live anything down.â
âOh my goodness! You kicked it with someone behind my back, took her virginity, and then bought her a computer! Not to mention the girl you slobbered down in the club. I havenât done anything to you, Sam.â
Dreya picks this moment to bounce down the stairs and into the lab. âUgh. Can yâall stop fighting and finish my songs?â
âIâm in agreement with Drama,â Big D says. âLetâs take this one song at a time. Can yâall agree to bury the hatchet for the rest of the day?â
Sam and I both tentatively nod. I donât know if I have a hatchet. Itâs more like a sword. But I do want to get back to my dorm. Today is the last day of the weekend, and Iâve got a paper to finish up for my composition class.
âLet me hear what yâall been working on,â Dreya demands.
âHold up,â Big D says as his currently on-again girlfriend Shelly descends the stairs daintily carrying a tray with glasses of lemonade and slices of cake. Shelly is like the hood Martha Stewart. Sheâs always baking or cooking something. How she does it in five-inch heels, acrylic nails, and ten pounds of hair weave, Iâll never understand. She smiles at Big D like heâs the only one in the room. I could never be like her. Big D plays her for sideline chicks all the time. They get into arguments, she storms out, and he begs her to come back. She always does. That is crazy to me.
âYâall want some of this cake?â Shelly asks. Her thick Southern accent tells me that sheâs a native Georgia peach just like me.
âIâll pass,â Dreya says. âThe last thing I need is cake.â
âYour body is perfect. You can eat what you want,â Big D says.
Dreya shakes her head. âNo. Evan told me that my skin is dull when I donât eat right. When I get off the plane in New York, I want to be glowing.â
Glowing? Really? Iâve never seen Dreya quite so taken with a guy like she is with Evan. I think she, like Shelly, turns a blind eye and a deaf ear to dirt he might be doing. This is how rich guys get over, I guess, because girls will stay with them in spite of foolishness, just so they can get iced up with diamonds and wear designer clothes.
âWhen does your flight leave?â Sam asks. âAre we going back on the same flight?â
âIâm leaving next Friday,â Dreya says.
âOh, naw, then. Iâm out tomorrow morning,â Sam says.
âYou let your man be alone that long?â Shelly asks as she sets her tray with the uneaten cake slices on the table.
âMe and my man are both grown,â Dreya replies. âIâm not stressing what he does when Iâm not there, just like heâs not stressing what I do. Thatâs called grown and sexy.â
I roll my eyes and shake my head. âOkay, moving right along. Hereâs what we came up with so far. Come on, Sam. Play the music.â
Sam moves slowly, like he doesnât like being bossed by me. After a long and
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