A/N: Hey, guys! First and foremost, I want to apologize for neglecting my stories for sooooooo long. Life, you know? (Lame excuse, but anyway.) Endless thanks to those who kept in contact with me while I was away and those who continue to read my work. It honestly means a great deal to me.

The idea for this story stemmed from a combination of personal experiences mixed with an era of Aaron-less Boondocks and several years of watching and re-watching classics like Love & Basketball and My Best Friend's Wedding. I'm a sucker for movies like these.

This is an edited and re-uploaded version of my original prologue. Changes have been made.

But anyways, enjoy. Let me know what you think in a review :)

Prologue

Raindrops splashed against the windowpane in a seemingly rhythmic pattern. Huey leaned back in his black, leather computer chair, listening. It had been raining in Chicago for almost three days straight, and Mother Nature didn't seem to have any intent on letting up. He had long given up any hopes of getting any real work done on his new case, choosing instead to listen in silence to the musical rainfall. Closing his laptop, his eyes fell shut with a deep sigh.

Most days, he loved the rain. It was calming, soothing even. These sounds were included on a relatively small list compiled of simple things that truly relaxed Huey Freeman. But after three days of sitting at home, literally getting nowhere as far as freeing his new young defendant was concerned, he was beginning to find the rain a bit... distracting. Shaking his head, he slowly rolled his chair back up to his desk, glancing at the documents spread about. After a few moments of attempting to rule out incriminating evidence, Huey groaned. He couldn't do this. How in the hell was he supposed to concentrate with all of this annoying rain surrounding him?

He couldn't, that's how. Beginning to accept that he may very well lose this case, he decided to give all thoughts work-related a much needed rest for the day. He glanced down at his wristwatch. It was a quarter until nine. He hadn't eaten all day, and noticing the time made him suddenly realize just how hungry he actually was. Maybe he'd order some take out...

The rain outside of his home office window picked up, adopting a faster paced, heavier beating against the glass. It was almost as if Mother Nature was mocking him.

Scratch that. He had to get out of his house before he completely lost his mind. He had to go somewhere else, anywhere else. His sanity depended on it. And in no time at all, he was sitting in his car. He wasted no time, immediately starting the engine and backing down his driveway. Before he turned on to the main road, something at the end of his driveway caught his eye. It was his mailbox, and it appeared to be bursting at the seams with envelopes. When was the last time he checked the mail? He couldn't remember, but he knew it had to have been at least a few weeks. Rolling down the driver's side window, Huey opened his mailbox and retrieved his mail. He tossed it into the passenger seat and headed on into the city. After all, he was pretty hungry.

A few hours passed, and by the time Huey returned to his home, it was still raining. He slightly slammed the front door shut, taking extra care to lock it since you never know in Chicago. He wasn't exactly looking forward to going to bed only to wake up and do the same thing all over again, but his eyes were feeling a little heavy. Removing his jacket, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something. What was he forgetting? Oh, right. The mail. He ran back to his car, grabbing the mail off of the seat and, once again, shutting himself up inside.

He started flipping through the behemoth stack, wondering how it slipped his mind for so long to check the damn mail. The first envelope was nothing but his electric bill, so he tossed it on to the kitchen table. He'd get to that later. The second was more of a flyer than an envelope, promising that God surely hates all who do not profess their love to Him via repentance. He also tossed this one aside, simply because he didn't even want to go there today. The third one, however, provoked an elongated stare from the former revolutionary. The sender's address was one with which he was very familiar with. This envelope had come from Woodcrest.

In hindsight, had he known at this time of the insane amounts of turmoil, sacrifice, and sheer stupidity that this single, tiny envelope would eventually ensue upon him, he might have actually burned it right then and there… But the thing about hindsight is that it's all-seeing, all-knowing, twenty-twenty vision. Living in the present, not so much.

It was from Jazmine.

He froze, staring blankly at the envelope in question. He hadn't really spoken to Jazmine DuBois since the last time he was home. And he hadn't been back to his grandfather's house in Woodcrest in years... five years to be exact. He never wanted to go back. He simply could not go back throughout the years. He couldn't face himself for what he had done to her. He never even allowed himself to think about it much, ever. It was…. Complicated. Huey Freeman didn't fare well with complicated. And the last time the two former best friends saw each other had been one complicated instance, indeed.

This was Huey's absolute favorite view in the entire world. From this magnificent hill sitting on the outskirts of suburban Woodcrest, he could see everything. He could see the Bay Bridge. He could see the twinkling lights of Ocean City. If he looked long enough, he could even make out the ships floating along the Baltimore Harbor, right here on this hill. It relaxed him.

He was sitting with knees bent, back resting against the trunk of his favorite Oak tree. It was a cool night in August, so the blades of grass beneath his fingertips felt almost wet to the touch. Resting beside him, in a position that just about mirrored his own, was quite possibly his favorite person in the world. His best friend. Only, while he was looking out at the city, she was looking at him.

"Jazmine," Huey started, his gaze remaining on the view.

"Yeah?" she prompted.

"Why are you staring at me?" He noted over the years that she did this often. Very often. If he didn't say anything, she would literally sit and stare at him for hours.

"I'm not staring at you, Huey Freeman," she protested. He could hear a small smile creep into her voice as she said it.

He finally tore his eyes away from the Harbor to look at her, and she was, nonetheless, still staring at him. "It sure looks like you are," he replied.

She rolled her eyes before resting them, once again, on him. "Hey, Huey?"

He raised a brow at her. "Yeah?"

"Shut up."

He smirked, turning his head back to his amazing view of Maryland. "What's with you?" he asked after a few moments of silence. "You're staring a lot more than usual."

Jazmine sighed, her eyes never leaving his face. "It's just that- it's just that I'll..." she huffed, flustered.

Huey waited patiently. He knew she'd speak her mind as soon as she gathered her thoughts.

"I'll... really miss you. When you leave, I mean."

He nodded in response. He was leaving the following day to attend grad school in Chicago, while she'd be staying close to Maryland. He knew this was coming at some point that night, he just didn't know when.

Jazmine was standing now, pacing back and forth. "What if I need you?" she asked abruptly, her voice shaken with fear.

Huey raised his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"You won't be here anymore!" she exploded. "What if somebody breaks into my apartment? Who will I call?"

He snorted at her ridiculous analogy. They lived in Woodcrest. People didn't do that around here. "I don't know... maybe, the police?"

"It's not funny Huey!" she shot him an angry look. "The point is, you've ALWAYS been there when I needed you. What if I need you?!"

Huey could see she was getting hysterical. He rose to his feet and grabbed her shoulders, preventing her from continuing her insane pacing. He had no choice but to look down at her, being as he was six-foot-three, and she stood at a petite five-foot-one. "Jazmine," he started. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" She looked up at him like he was crazy. "How can I calm down? What if I never see you again!" her eyes welled with tears.

"Listen to me," Huey sighed, looking away from her eyes. It was his mission to make her cry on a daily basis once upon a time, but now, her tears did something to him. They effected him in ways he couldn't explain. He wanted to do everything in his power to get her to stop crying. Both hands still placed firmly on her shoulders, he shook her gently, once again meeting her glistened green eyes. He held her gaze for a while before he spoke. "You don't have to worry about all that, okay? You're being ridiculous."

She frowned at him, uncertain of his words. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because," he spoke slowly to get his message to sink in her irrational brain. "If you ever need me, all you have to do is call."

"But what if I don't hear from you? What if I never see you again?"

"Of course you'll see me again, don't be dumb." He rolled his eyes. "Chicago isn't that far away. I'll be home for all your pagan holidays, alright?"

Jazmine sniffled, pouting. "You promise?"

Huey sighed. He watched a tear creep out of the corner of her eye and slowly start its descent down her cheek. He hated the thing. It made him feel... weird. He removed one of his hands from her shoulders and swiped the offending thing off of her face. "Yeah, yeah," he responded. He removed his gaze from her eyes, back to the view the hill provided.

Jazmine smiled, catching his hand before he could completely remove it. She gingerly placed his hand back upon her cheek. She took her other hand and rested it lightly upon his own cheek as well. "Okay," was all she said, softly.

Huey looked back down at her. He gently glided his thumb over her freckles, admiring her face. Long, strawberry blonde eyelashes curled upwards on her large, emerald eyes. She had the eyes akin to a life-sized doll. He brought his thumb down from her freckles and traced it over her full, pink lips. She was so god-dammed beautiful, he couldn't stand it. How could a human being even be so beautiful? Firmly grasping both of her cheeks in his hands, he bent down and crashed his lips against hers.

She let out a small moan of satisfaction, standing on the tips of her toes so he wouldn't have to bend down so far. She placed her arms around his neck, kissing him back passionately. His hands moved from her face to the small of her back, pushing her body closer against his.

Their lips moved effortlessly in synchronization. Huey sighed in ecstasy, easing his tongue into her mouth. Her soft lips tasted of her favorite mango chapstick. He kissed her with a sense of urgency now, hungrily. Kissing Jazmine DuBois felt unlike anything he had ever experienced. He could literally feel shock waves shoot through his entire body. It was electric. He wanted more of this sensation. He craved more. He needed more.

Jazmine stopped abruptly, taking her arms from around his neck and pushing his chest lightly. She turned around and walked a little ways away from him, folding her arms and looking over at the Harbor. "Huey…" she started. The way she said his name in that moment made it sound like an accusation. "Stop."

He knew where this was going. He leaned back against the trunk of the Oak tree, placing his hands in his pockets and watching her as she watched the ships sail away. Silence took over him.

"You always do this." She said, a cold tone taking over her voice.

"….I know." He responded, finally.

"Do you?" She asked, her voice raising slightly. She turned to face his direction, a frown resting on her angelic face.

He looked down at the grass, not wanting to acknowledge the look on her face. The look he caused more often than he would like to admit.

"Well?" She prompted, visibly upset.

"I can't give you the answer you're looking for, Jazmine." He said. He was still choosing to stare at the grass, unable to meet her eyes.

"You always say that!" She exclaimed.

He took a deep breath, running both hands through his large afro. "I know," he said.

"I don't know what you want from me, Huey Freeman!" She exploded. She began pacing back and forth again while she spoke.

"Jazmine-" he tried. She cut him off as if he hadn't spoken.

"It's like, one minute you can't be bothered with me. You get 'caught up' doing everything else, and can't even text me back."

"Jazmine-"

"For. DAYS. AT. A. TIME." She clapped between each word, putting emphasis on her phrase. "Huey Freeman, you go DAYS at a time leaving me on 'read!'"

"Jazmine-"

"The next minute, you're so into me! Taking me everywhere, telling me how 'special' I am to you, and spending the freaking night at my place!" She threw her arms into the air, exasperated.

Huey sighed. This was a conversation the two of them had quite often. "Jazmine, I-"

"One minute you don't know where you'd be without me, and the next we're just best friends." She shook her head.

"You ARE my best friend, Jazmine." He said, trying to reason with her.

"You have an entire drawer full of YOUR CRAP in my dresser, Huey!" She was crying now, obviously frustrated.

"Do you want me to come get it?" he asked sarcastically, finally meeting her eyes.

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I want," she said.

"I can't give you what you want." He replied, looking back down at the grass. He despised having this conversation with her. It made him feel completely uncomfortable.

"Well, that's not an acceptable answer anymore." She sighed. Fluttering her eyes shut and rubbing her temples in a circular motion. It was an attempt to calm herself down. A technique she learned from Huey what felt like a lifetime ago. After a few moments of silence, she turned around again. With her back to Huey, she gazed back out at the Harbor. "I can't keep doing this with you."

"Do you really have to question everything? Damn." With a deep sigh, Huey left his post at the tree and walked forward. He grabbed her from behind, wrapping his strong arms around her tiny frame in an embrace. "Everything doesn't need an explanation, Jazmine. Why can't you just leave things the way they are?"

"Because I want more than this, Huey…" Jazmine rested her head against his chest. "We're not kids anymore," she said."I'm not some toy that you can keep playing with when it's convenient for you, and tossing to the side when you're bored."

"It's not like that." He said, gripping her tighter and hoping she would just drop it.

"Then what is it?" She asked, stepping forward a few feet out of his embrace. "Because it seems like I'm more than good enough for you to have sex with, but not good enough to be your girlfriend." She turned around and peered up into his eyes. "It's been the same routine since high school. You don't want me, but you don't want anybody else to have me either."

"What the hell, Jazmine. Of course I want you." He rolled his eyes. "I just don't want to conform to society's standards. I don't want to be confined to a stupid label that doesn't actually mean anything in real life."

"It means something to ME," she said, her face wet with tears. She walked over to their tree and sat down in the grass, her knees pressed against her chest. "If all you want is a friend with benefits, then maybe we're not as great of friends as I thought."

He joined her under the tree, resting in the grass next to her. "That's not what I think of you," he said, leaning his head back against the bark and closing his eyes. Expressing intimate emotions was not something he did particularly well.

For a while, they sat in silence. Jazmine thought carefully about what she wanted to say before she said it. "Do you love me?"

Huey's eyes snapped open in an instant. He glanced down at her, finding her staring right at him.

"Do you love me?" She asked again, frowning. "I can't keep doing this Huey, please… If you want to keep me around, you have to tell me how you really feel."

He looked down, unable to hold her gaze. More silence fell between them before Huey finally responded. "It's complicated," he said.

"You always say that…." She said, her eyes welling with tears once more.

"I know," Huey responded for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Mentally, he was begging her to just let it go. This isn't at all how he wanted to spend his last night with her before catching his flight.

Jazmine didn't respond. She stood up, silently brushing the dirt off of her jeans.

Huey arose from his spot under the tree and stood next to her, studying her. Usually when they had this conversation, it ended with clothes being removed and headboards squeaking. Most of the time they'd watch a movie or binge watch a series on Netflix together afterwards until one or both of them fell asleep. That was enough for him, but it wasn't for her. He always managed to avoid the conversation getting this deep. But now she wanted real answers, answers he didn't know how to give her; and he knew that making her cum wasn't going to be enough this time to excuse his lack of commitment. He knew exactly what she wanted to hear, but he still couldn't bring himself to say it after all these years. So in that moment, he chose to say nothing at all.

She reached out to him with her arms extended. He accepted the embrace, hugging her back. The two of them stood there, holding each other for a while without saying anything. Jazmine sniffled before she spoke. "I hope you find everything you're looking for in Chicago, Huey." She said, retreating first from the embrace.

Instantly missing the warmth of her body heat, he watched her as she gathered her belongings from under the tree. There were so many things he wanted to say. He wanted to apologize ten thousand times over for hurting her. He wanted to tell her that he didn't even know what love was in that context; that she was pure. He wanted to tell her that she made him feel things no other woman had been able to. He wanted to tell her that she was brilliant and that her smile alone had the power to cease nuclear warfare. He thought the world needed more people like her and he didn't deserve to breathe in her presence, let alone BE with her. He wanted to tell her that he didn't mean to lead her on, but that'd be a lie. He did. He wanted to have as much of her as she'd allow, without making any promises about a future together. He wanted to thank her for putting up with his bullshit for as long as she did. The words to say all of these things never made their way out of his mouth.

"I love you, Huey Freeman." She said, securing the strap of her purse on her shoulder. "Maybe one day that might ACTUALLY mean something to you."

Not knowing how to respond, he quietly watched her as she walked further and further away from him down the hill, towards the direction of her apartment complex.

The memory left a bittersweet ache in his entire being. He was only twenty one years old then.

Growing up, he didn't have a positive, healthy relationship to look up to or aspire to emulate in adulthood. His granddad was a womanizer, his neighbors toxic, and his friends immature. The only people capable of showing him how to be a phenomenal man, let alone a functional relationship partner died when he was only ten years old. It wasn't that he didn't love Jazmine back then, he honestly just didn't know how to love her properly. He was literally incapable of giving her what she needed from him, and he didn't know how to pursue a future with her. He didn't want to ruin the bond they shared by attaching a made up title to it. He knew how to be a friend, and he knew how to fuck. He didn't know anything about what it takes to be in a relationship.

Worst of all, he broke the heart of someone he truly cared about. And he didn't know how to make it better.

When he landed in Chicago, she called him a few times and he ignored her. She sent him a few messages, too, which he also ignored. She was actually trying to apologize to him, as if she was the one who did something wrong. He didn't know what to say to her, so he chose to put off responding to her until he knew what to say. He even stopped flying home for the holidays to avoid running into her. Unfortunately, the day where he knew what to say to her never came. Time passed as he adapted to his new life, and the phone calls and messages from Jazmine came fewer and far between; eventually, they stopped altogether.

What would have become of his life had he just picked up the damn phone and talked to her? What if he had just been able to properly communicate how he felt, instead of just ignoring everything that made him uncomfortable? Would they still be friends today? Would he know how to be in a real relationship? He was twenty six years old now, and he still didn't know the answers to these questions.

Huey sighed. He still wasn't entirely sure how he felt about her, either. And he hated thinking about it. It left him with questions he couldn't answer and unfinished thoughts he simply didn't know how to complete. It frustrated him, not knowing things. He wasn't one to dwell on the 'what-ifs,' being as they're unproductive. It doesn't really matter what he would have hypothetically done differently given the chance to go back, because at the end of the day he can't go back. What's done is done.

Shaking off his plaguing thoughts, he decided he should probably open the envelope now. There were two objects inside. One being a handwritten letter... the other being an invitation to her wedding.

Wait... what?

His eyes scanned over the details, and then once more for accuracy. Jazmine DuBois was getting married in exactly twenty-three days.

A strange feeling came over him and he couldn't quite place it. In shock and completely unsure of what to think, he read over her letter.

Huey,

It's been some time, hasn't it? A lot has changed since we saw each other last. The main thing, of course, being that I'm getting married! I realize this is a bit awkward, but it would mean so much to me if you came. You've been on my mind a lot lately, and nothing would make me happier than seeing your face around here again. Please, come home soon? I could really use your advice, support and your company. I guess you could say that I miss my dearest friend.

Love,

Jazmine

Huey stood in the middle of his kitchen, unmoving. Unblinking.

Did he have a katana long enough to commit Japanese ritual suicide?