Thirty Reasons Not to Date a Player

20. He'll Make You Do Things You'll Regret

I barely get any sleep Friday night, and by time Saturday rolls around, I spend two hours sulking in bed before I finally decide to get up and do something productive. I am not about to waste the day being upset over the stupidity of a guy that I never even dated.

A guy I was never supposed to like, in the first place.

A guy who couldn't possibly ever have feelings for me. 

I groan aloud, after pulling a white pillow over my head. 

Why am I so pathetic? 

"Amara, this room is a mess," my mom scolds as she walks in and opens the curtains. The bright sunlight is blinding. "Do you have any plans with your friends today?"

"Not really," I admit. I'm not sure if I even have friends at the moment. 

Mel is probably still mad at me. 

April is out with Aiden. 

And Rachel is Ryder's sister. 

Who's left? 

"Why don't you invite Daniel to go see a movie?" my mom suggests, causing me to raise an eyebrow. I'd forgotten about him. 

"I'm not going on a date with Daniel," I scoff. 

"It wouldn't be a date," she says, "but you know he has a hard time making friends." 

I pause for a moment. Maybe she does have a point.

Daniel's the only person who could possibly give me some decent, unbiased advice. "Okay," I agree, swinging my legs off the edge of my bed and getting into an upright position. I feel a little dizzy, probably from sitting up too fast. "I'll go see what he's up to."

After a ten-minute shower and a bowl of cereal for breakfast, I head downstairs and knock on the door of Daniel's apartment. At least, I think it's his apartment.

There's no answer for a minute or two, and I contemplate heading back upstairs when finally, someone opens the door. 

It's a blonde woman, in her mid-forties. "Good morning, Mrs. Anthony," I greet, trying not to sound too awkward. "I uh, I was looking for Daniel." 

He appears in the doorway behind her, seeming to have just gotten out of the shower. His hair is wet and he has a beige towel tossed over his shoulder. His eyes go a little wide upon seeing me—its not every day that a girl comes to visit him, I guess. 

"Hi," he says, sliding one of his hands into his jean's pocket. "Is everything alright?" 

"Daniel," his mother scolds, "be polite." 

He goes a little red with embarrassment, before inviting me to come inside. Mrs. Anthony, seemingly pleased with her son's invitation, leaves us alone and heads into the kitchen. I follow Daniel into the living room and take a seat on the couch. 

"I'll be right back," he says, dashing into one of the rooms down the narrow hallway. He probably went to go ditch the towel. I smirk at the thought. 

Oliver, Daniel's six year old brother, walks over to me. He has what looks like chocolate smeared at the side of his mouth and his baby blue eyes look even bigger underneath his glasses. He looks like a mini version of Daniel, I think, ruffling his hair affectionately. 

"What's up, big guy?" I ask, offering him a high five. He returns it happily, before inquiring whether or not I'm Daniel's girlfriend. 

"No," I laugh, "I'm just a friend."