DRE'S P.O.V
Nate's lips finally leave mine, and I'm blushing so hard.
"You know it doesn't have to end here, we can go in, finish what we started," he says with a wink.
I unbuckle my seat belt. Nate has taken me home, and, as always, he tries to convince me to let him stay over. Like I do all the time, I decline.
"I can't have boys over, my mum won't allow it," I remind him.
"She has a night shift. You're the only one home, Dre."
"I'm sorry," I say. "Can I have my phone now?"
"Sure."
Earlier, I had given Nate my phone so I could study without any distractions from it.
"Luke called?" I ask, going through my phone.
"Yeah, so?" Nate replies with a bit of an attitude.
I stare uneasily at the seven missed calls from him.
"Why didn't you tell me? It seems really urgent," I say.
"You were studying, no distractions, remember?"
There isn't a single text from Luke either, just calls.
I look around, and it's getting late already.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I say to Nate.
We get out of his car, and he walks me to my front door.
Nate looks up at the building.
"That's your room, right?" he asks.
I nod.
"I thought you said no one else is home, the lights are on", he says.
"I forgot to turn them off," I say quickly. "I'll text you."
I unlock the door, smiling at Nate as I wave him off.
I wait for him to drive away
I hurry to my room.
No boys were allowed, well, except Luke.
I watch him lying on my bed.
I clear my throat, and he jolts awake.
"Hi," I start to say.
Luke sits up, and the first thing I notice is the sunglasses he has on.
"I called you," he says.
"I was studying, my phone was with Nate," I reply.
"You were studying till eight?"
"Nate and I went to eat after," I explain.
"Why would Nate be with your phone?" Luke asks.
"You know I get distracted when I study," I reply.
Luke wants to say something, but he stops himself. It's then I realise how rough he looks, like he had just gotten into a fight with someone. His shoulders flex, and he just sits uneasily.
But it's hard to read his face with the damn glasses he has on.
"Are you okay?" I ask, coming closer to him.
"Are you?" Luke asks back.
"I am, why wouldn't I be?" I ask.
"You didn't see the... nothing weird was sent to you?"
"No," I reply. "Why are you wearing sunglasses?"
Luke gets up instead.
"I have to go. I wanted to see if you were okay."
"I am okay," I say. "I didn't fight Maddie. Do you think I did?"
Is he still worried about what happened earlier? The fight I almost had with Maddie.
"No, I just thought..." his voice trails off. "You'll tell me if something happened, right?"
"What is it? You're scaring me," I say.
I look closely and notice a side of his face, like it's almost swollen.
"What happened to your face? It looks swollen," I say, stepping forward.
"It's nothing," he says.
Luke heads to the door and quickly, I step in front of him
"Take off the glasses," I say.
I try to reach for them, but I can't because he's much taller.
I try again, but Luke quickly catches my hand.
"Stop," he says.
He's definitely hiding something.
Luke attempts to leave again, and I try again. This time, I'm able to knock his glasses off his face.
His glasses fall, revealing what he was trying so hard to hide.
LUKE'S P.O.V
Dre's jaw drops to the ground, and I'm pissed she took my glasses off.
"What...what happened to you?" She asks, struggling with words.
This isn't why I'm here; whatever happened to me is currently irrelevant.
"Your eye is black," she points out, worry obvious in her tone.
"You shouldn't have taken them off," I say.
I turn to leave, but Dre doesn't let me.
She reaches for my hand, holding it.
I flinch, overly sensitive to her touch.
"Luke, what happened to you?" she asks. "Did your Dad?"
My jaw clenches, and I wish she'd stop talking and let me go.
But she doesn't, her soft hands intertwine with mine as she leads me to her bed.
She sits in front of me, staring at my face.
"I don't want to talk about this," I tell her, before she starts to say anything.
I don't want to talk about my black eye, how I got it or why I look a mess.
"You don't have to," she says softly.
It's fucking embarrassing as it is. I didn't want Dre feeling sorry for me, even though by the looks of it, she already is.
I watch her leave for her bathroom. She returns with a first aid kit.
"Can I ?" She asks, tapping lightly on the box.
I shrug. This has happened one too many times. I'll get hurt, and Dre will play doctor.
Dre sits up, and my head rests on her lap. She stares down into my face, her eyes hold mine.
Her fingers brush against the bruise, and I try my best not to flinch at the pain or her touch.
Dre gets to work, dabbing all sorts of medicine around my face to try reduce the swelling.
I close my eyes when she tells me to.
"What did he say to you this time?" Dre asks about my abusive father.
I shrug, "Nothing new."
"I'm sorry I didn't get your calls," she starts to apologise, and before I know it, she's already crying.
I sit up immediately, taking the first aid material from her hands.
"I'm so sorry," she sobs.
"Dre, I promise I'm okay," I say.
"You called so many times, and I didn't answer once. If I hadn't done this, it wouldn't have happened."
"Dre, you don't understand. This isn't why I called you. I swear it isn't," I say, wiping her face with my palm.
"Then why did you call?" She asks tearfully.
Instantly, I remember what I had watched earlier today. Not all of it, just the first five seconds, because I couldn't dare to watch my best friend's sex tape.
"Why?" she asks again.
Do I tell her that there's a video going around of her being fucked from behind by some dude?
A video which, by the looks of it, she hasn't seen.
I have to tell her, I can't hide something like this from her.
"Dre...someone sent me your—"