Drake was in my ear, rapping about no new friends, and as I looked to my left, seeing Marcus, and to my right, seeing Tremaine and Chris, I knew Drake's words to be true. It wasn't usual for them to wake up early just to join me on a run, but as I stepped out of my house at exactly 5:00 a.m. on the dot, I found my three best friends waiting to run with me.

         I never had to question their support or loyalty, because time after time they showed me, just as I'd shown them, that they were down for whatever. And with friendships as good as ours, what was the point of building new ones?

"I can't believe you do this shit every day, Dre," Tremaine was saying as he slowed down his pace. We were all running side by side down the street in my neighborhood. I lived in one of those nice neighborhoods you only saw on TV or in pamphlets, the kind people showed on those reality shows, but where they rented their houses to allude that they had it like that, my father really did it and we lived it.

No one was out driving as early as it was, and the few vehicles that passed us simply waved upon recognizing me or one of my boys.

I shrugged. "Gotta keep in shape somehow."

"But still," Tremaine continued.

"That's why Coach is always wilin' on you, you never wanna work," Marcus cut in.

It was a known fact, if Tremaine didn't care, he didn't put in effort. But even when he slacked off he still dominated on the field, he had an arm crafted by God.

Tremaine smirked. "I put in work last night, though."

That caused all of us to laugh. After failing to bed Draya, he moved on to a friend of hers, and though she wasn't as bad as Draya was, she was also a dime.

I was partially happy Trey hadn't succeeded with Draya, and I was even more excited at the fact that she wasn't about giving it up easily. It wouldn't be too hard to get her, but the chase would still be fun and worth it. Draya Young was one of the finest girls in our junior class. She was bad, tatted, and built to perfection. Pretty face, small waist, thick ass and perky chest, she was just begging for it. But that was the thing, Draya knew everyone was checking for her and she made it hard for anyone to succeed. I had yet to try with her, but I knew it wouldn't be too much of a challenge. Word on the street was that she had a crush on a Balla and I was MVP.

"Looks like Dre ain't get any play from Cree, though," Chris joked, by now we were all walking instead of running.

I shrugged. "It ain't even about that. I keep telling her I don't want her."

"And how are you going to succeed with that?"

I tossed my best friend an arrogant smile. "Easy, every girl wants to be wanted."

I meant it when I said I didn't want Cree. She was the good girl and I didn't do good. I was down for one thing and that was something Cree wouldn't give up until "love" or some other shit. Besides, her mouth was just as bad as Troiann's, how Marcus put up with it was beyond me.

"But like I said, I'm not trying to smash," I went on.

"Shit, then let me holla at her," Tremaine replied. "Light skin chicks is poppin' right now."

I shook my head, remembering the time Devonte had said that shit around one of our aunts and she had popped him for it. Though my brothers and I were more of a simple brown in skin tone, dark skin or chocolate ran in our family on our father's side. Our father and his two sisters held a chocolate tint to their skin, and I couldn't blame my aunt Renee for being offended at Devonte's stupid remark.

As far as I was concerned, just as long as it was black skin, I didn't care what shade it came in. Skin didn't make or break a girl's appearance for me, and I definitely wasn't stupid enough to like a girl based on some lame ass trend.

Besides, if Cree didn't like me, she sure as hell wasn't about to fall for Tremaine—even if he was good at sweet talking his way into a girl's pants.

"Yeah, right," I said.

Tremaine frowned as he looked my way. "I know you don't think she ugly."

Light skin or not, Cree was just pretty to me, definitely no Draya Young.

Shrugging, I let her and the topic go. "She's okay."

"Man, whatever." Tremaine waved me off. He looked over at Marcus. "When you gone let me smash Troiann?" He rubbed his hands together, licking his lips lasciviously.

Marcus glared at Trey. "Never."

Tremaine frowned, taken back. "Never, why not?"

Marcus didn't admit to being whipped, but he said, "No Smash List."

He'd thrown down the flag then. Our No Smash List was an exclusive list of girls we'd smashed and refused to let any of our friends get with next. None of the girls on the list had been our girlfriends, but we'd liked them to a point where we didn't want to see them shitting in our backyard. I wasn't surprised Marcus was putting Troy on the list, especially if he liked her enough to hassle me about how I was treating her friend.

"Get outta here, you gotta at least let me know if she got that w—"

"Yo, Trey, let me talk to Dre alone for a minute," Marcus interrupted.

Both Tremaine and Chris went ahead of us, beginning to run again as we were a few blocks from my house.

I looked to Marcus, wondering what was up. "Yeah?"

"So last night Troy took Cree home," Marcus began, "and then she came back and she was complaining about Cree being all down." Marcus looked to me, studying my exterior. "Mind filling me in? I saw you talking to her."

When it came to my boys, I didn't lie, period. "The truth hurts, I guess."

"Truth?" Marcus repeated.

"I told her you were fuckin' Troiann."

He sighed, taking in a sharp breath upon doing so. "Why?"

"Have you ever talked to Cree?"

Marcus shook his head. "Not really."

"She got a smart mouth." Things were going fine, even if she had re-broken my father's trophy and had been cornered by Draya and her friends when I laid eyes on her. But then she took my kindness for my trying to get with her and again she insulted me and my dick—what was up with her obsession with it? "And I just wanted to prove a point and I did, you made it even better by standing with Troy."

Marcus shook his head, scowling. "Man."

"Did you still fuck last night?" It couldn't have been that bad if Troiann hadn't brought up Cree saying something about our conversation. Maybe she was in denial.

"Yeah," Marcus said, "but still."

"Still nothing, she must not care too much about her best friend if she didn't tell her she was messing with you, or for the simple fact that she came back to the party and let you fuck."

Marcus shrugged. "Because she know can't no other dude put it down like me and I can take it or leave it with her. As soon as she left I had another girl come and talk to me. I like Troy, but I ain't tryna wife her or nothing. I'm just enjoying the fun."

That sounded like the Marcus I knew.

I patted his back. "And here I thought she had you whipped."

Marcus snorted as we picked up pace and began to jog back to my house to meet the others. "The box is good, but it ain't that good."

Together we shared a laugh as we raced back to the house.

Darnel came home around noon on Sunday, and it felt just like old times as he, Devonte and I went out to our backyard and played ball on the court our dad had installed. When it came to basketball no one could beat Darnel, he was just as good as our father after years of playing, that even went when he was wore out. After Darnel, I was the next best and then Devonte, and as we played against one another, I couldn't fight the feeling of how much I missed my oldest brother since he'd been down in Columbus for school.

"Damn, it's like you've gotten better," Devonte huffed as he leaned over, planting his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Darnel spun the ball around on his index finger, grinning. "Or you two have gotten sloppy in play."

I smirked. "Shit, you ain't been to our games this past winter, I owned that court."

Devonte shoved me. "You mean I did."

We all could argue all day about who was the better player, we were all cocky that way.

"I'd say you're all about the same, not nearly as good as your pops." From behind us our father stood on our back patio, holding a cigar in hand as he'd apparently watched us play.

Devonte waved him off. "You're rusty."

It wasn't true, at forty-three our father could still play as good as a twenty year old. He loved the sport too much not to stay in shape for it.

Darnel tossed me the ball and headed over to the hoop and scooped up his water bottle to take a swig.

"Nice to have you home, son," our father spoke up. "How are things at the school?"

Darnel barely looked at our father. "Good, I've been busting my ass in chemistry, but I think I'll finish the semester with an A."

My father narrowed his eyes for a moment as he took in Darnel's words. "Don't work too hard on the books. Put in twice as much as effort on the court, that's where your future lies."

Darnel looked down at the ground, picking at the label on his water bottle, not responding.

Before an awkward silence could set in our father turned to me next. "I see you recently had a party here, Dre."

There were two of us at home and still I was found out for being responsible for the party? I snuck a peek at Devonte. Snitch.

"Yeah," I answered, "I threw a little something." We had a housekeeper, it wasn't like the house was a mess when he came home Saturday afternoon or anything.

"And you was all up on that girl, too," Devonte spoke up, elbowing me with a sly grin as he stole the ball from me.

My fists balled up and I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting to calm myself before I released my fury on Devonte for bringing up Cree.

Just as I'd feared, I found my father watching me when I opened my eyes.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said. I knew his rules about dating, he didn't care if we messed around, smashing any and every girl that came in our paths, but we were not to get caught up on a girl, our focus was for basketball only. His rule didn't bother me, I hadn't the interest or patience for a relationship and I couldn't help but get pissed that he was starting to look at me like I was going against his rules.

"Come again?" he asked.

I forced interest at the squirrel that was eating a nut by our pool. "I'm not repeating myself."

My father chuckled. "Well, it appears I'm missing a few cigars. The box cost me quite a penny, too, so to make up for it, how about you run an hour before bed every night for this upcoming week, starting today."

It would be a bitch getting up, but I had no choice. "Yes, sir."

Devonte was doing a terrible job of hiding his laughter beside me.

"Same goes for you too, Devonte, don't think I didn't measure my Yak, and I didn't see your times on the board for Friday and Saturday. I'm disappointed, I leave for a day and this is what you do?" He shook his head before placing his cigar back into his mouth and retreating back into the house.

Devonte tossed the ball to side and sighed. "Man, this is bullshit."

"What the fuck was that?" I snapped, getting in his face.

Darnel was quick to get in between us before I could take a swing.

"Easy, Dre," he said.

"Nah." I shook Darnel off, going and getting back in Devonte's face. "What was that?"

Devonte smiled at me, not at all intimidated, knowing he could take me if needed be. "I was just joking, relax. She was fine anyway."

I talked to Cree for all of a minute before going and messing with the girl whose name I couldn't remember. It wasn't even something for Devonte to bring up, unless he purposely was trying to stir up some trouble. "That shit wasn't funny. Now I gotta get my ass up and run in the mornings and nights thanks to you."

"Didn't you hear him, I do too," Devonte shot back.

Darnel stood off to the side, staying out of it as he stared at the both of us, shaking his head.

"What?" I asked, tired of his judging.

"You mad at the wrong person, Dre," said Darnel. "You talk to a girl and Dad flips out? Why doesn't that bother you?"

It did, but not in the way Darnel was getting at.

I shrugged. "Why should it?"

"Because you're seventeen, why should it be a big deal if you talk to a girl?"

"He knows I get around, he doesn't care."

"But if you brought that girl home and said she was your girlfriend you know he would trip."

Of course he would, because then I'd be losing sight of what was important: basketball. "Because it's not what's important right now."

"Not what's important? Do you hear yourself? When are you supposed to do something for yourself then?"

Darnel was reading too much into things. "I do things for me, Darnel. I don't want a girlfriend, that shit is for people who don't like being alone."

He took a step back as if I'd just hit him in the gut. "I can stand being alone just fine, Dre."

What was he saying? "Do you have a girl?"

He looked away from me. "I met someone, so what? Was I supposed to tell her I can't be into her right now because getting drafted's more important? What if I don't want to get drafted? What if I don't want to play ball, Dre?"

Now he wasn't making any sense. We'd all wanted to play ball since as far as we could remember. It was a dream to someday go pro like our dad.

I shook my head. "What are you talking about right now, you make no sense."

Darnel smirked. "I'm just thinking for me now. You're still being controlled by Dad, Dre. Think for yourself, do for yourself."

Devonte waved him off. "You on your period or something?"

Darnel shot Devonte a mean look. "Sooner or later fucking girls you don't remember in the morning and going to parties gets old. I'm just trying to open your eyes. Parties, ball, girls, it's not the world."

It was to me. "Don't let Dad hear you talking like this, he'll—"

"What? Disown me? Let him, or maybe I should disown him if he can't accept the fact that maybe I'm tired of just basketball," Darnel said. "Maybe it's time someone else walks away from him, or else he'll never know what effect he's having on people."

His words were scaring me. Darnel was always the brother I could go to for advice. When I started liking girls, Devonte gave me condoms and Darnel gave me words of wisdom. It was how it always had been. Devonte was the fun brother and Darnel was the serious one. He couldn't leave us, he couldn't abandon us for some girl and quit ball. It was disloyal. It was traitorous. It was wrong.

"W-what are you saying?" I grew the strength to ask.

"I was five when Mom walked away. Five, Dre!" Darnel shook his head. "Why do you think she left?"

Our mother leaving was something I barely thought about. I was too young to even remember what she looked like or how she was.

I shrugged. "Because she was too caught up in her emotions."

Darnel frowned. "Like it or not, one day you're gonna realize you've got a chip on your shoulder, we all do and we get it from him." He pointed to the house before going and walking away, leaving me in the backyard with Devonte, without so much as a goodbye.