It wasn’t a complete lie. Hehadbeen on the phone when he pulled up. The phone call only lasted for some minutes before Heavy began scrolling through his phone, looking at memories of him and Dre. When swiping through their pictures became too much, he stared at the front door like a part of him expected Dre to come walking out, laughing and talking shit, asking why his ass was just sitting there instead of coming inside.
His jaw had tightened at the thought, and he needed a second to gather himself. No matter how much Heavy tried to shake it, his mind kept circling back to the last conversation they had. It was one-sided, with Dre having been pronounced dead on the scene, and Heavy would never forget it.
Flashback
The sound of gunshots,especially in the hood, was unmistakable. People could tell the difference between triggers being pulled and fireworks going off, and although this was acelebration, Los and his people had just turned it into a crime scene.
The noise didn’t belong. Not on a day like today. It cut through the gym and the halls before anyone could process what they’d heard. For a split second, everything kept going; the music kept playing, and tennis shoes squeaked across the court. The shots echoed, bouncing off the walls, breaking through everything that had just been normal. Conversations stopped mid-sentence, as people flinched and took cover. Others turned toward the doors, confusion spreading faster than understanding.
Heavy didn’t wait for either to settle in. He had just spotted Mr. Joe near the entrance when the first shot rang out, and whatever favor he needed from him vanished from his mind that quickly.
“Yo! Everybody good?” Heavy’s voice cut through the rising noise and now chaotic crowd, but he didn’t wait for an answer.
His eyes darted around as he shoved past bodies that were either frozen or moving too slowly for his liking. The beat of his heart increased as he made it outside. Everything felt off, and the cries from someone nearby confirmed what he didn’t want to believe.
“Dre! Oh, my gosh. Someone call the police.”
Immediately, Heavy’s ears locked in on the cries and his eyes on the driver’s door of Dre’s car. His feet moved before his brain had time to comprehend what he’d just heard. His steps slowed for the briefest moment, like something in him was trying to reject what he was seeing.
“Dre… nah. Nah, bro,” Heavy’s voice cracked.
He dropped down fast, grabbing him, trying to hold him up like that would fix anything. Deep down, he knew it wouldn’t, but he wouldn’t stop trying.
“Aye! Aye, stay with me. You good. You hear me? You good.” His words came out rough and urgent, like saying them fast enough could make them true.
Heavy pressed his hand down, trying to apply pressure any and everywhere, but there were too many holes. Too much blood. Nothing he did felt like enough.
“Somebody call 911!” he barked, his voice booming through the crowd. “Stop just standing around!”
People had gathered around, and he couldn’t figure out what the fuck for. His eyes moved everywhere at once, looking for help, for anything, for something that could change what was already happening.
Heavy leaned closer, his grip tightening as he tried to keep Dre with him. Dre’s head shifted slightly, like he was trying to focus. Like he was trying to hear him.
“Look at me,” he said, quieter now, but no less urgent. “Stay with me, bro. Don’t do this.”
Dre gave him a lazy, blood-stained, barely there grin before gasping for air. Those were the last breaths he’d ever take. Heavy froze and then shook his body.
“Aye…” he said again, his voice breaking in a way it never had. “Dre… come on. We had plans, man.”
And without a heads-up or gentle warning, those plans changed.
The touchto his arm broke Heavy’s trip down memory lane. Cyren stood in front of him, her deep-set brown eyes locked onto his like she was trying to reach wherever he’d just gone. There was something soft in them, but Heavy could tell they had been tainted by pain. The intimate, unparalleled kind that allowed him the pleasure and torture to hold a conversation without words.
He noticed Cyren’s eyes didn’t match the glow of her smooth skin. They lacked a key component that Heavy had been robbed of, too. Love. Each of theirs a different kind, but still painfully missing. There was an understanding in the silence, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to. Heavy held her gaze for a second longer, then blinked, remembering where he was.
“You okay? You kinda spaced out for a second,” Cyren said.
Heavy gave a not-so-reassuring nod. “Yeah... my fault. What were you saying?”
Realizing she was still touching his arm, Cyren dropped her hand and put some space between them. She’d lost all train of thought.
“Nothing really. I’m sure my aunt and cousin will love these.”
Focusing on the flowers was better than that damn elephant who wouldn’t leave the room. Had he’d known she was there, too, he would’ve gotten her something.
“Yeah. I ain’t know they weren’t here. Probably should’ve called first. They been gone all day?” Heavy asked.
She’d heard Skylar moving around at some point, but she couldn’t recall the time. Nia was still at work, or somewhere. Cyren hadn’t quite figured out her work schedule. The days meshed together and passed by so quickly.
