So, my up-front attempt to reclaim my friendship with Justin failed miserably. I should've known better. You can't just roll up to somebody's house after three years and expect them to just invite you in. But it was Justin. He's my boy. We go way back to the Gap. I never had to deal with that pissed off side of him. Sure, he's been angry with me, raising his voice and cursing every now and then. Yet, the hatred and disgust in his eyes were something new to me. The man hated my guts. Not that I blame him though. I did hop on a plane right before our anniversary. God, I bet he planned something too. Ugh, I'm such a jerk.

"Still beating yourself up about things?" Tiffany's sympathetic voice breaks the silence in my bedroom. I look up and see her leaning against the door frame, a mug of coffee securely cupped in her small hands. I groan loudly as I bury my face into my pillow.

"He hates me, Tiff. He really hates me." I whine as I suddenly feel the bed sink in from Tiffany's added weight.

"He doesn't hate you," she assures as she turns to place her mug on my night stand, "He's just completely pissed off." I rolled over on my back, staring up at my newly painted ceiling. It was a baby blue now. Tiffany had done some redecorating while I was away. The color only deepened my guilt. Justin's favorite color was baby blue.

"I know that," I tell her with a sigh, "I'm just trying to figure out how to make him. . . unpissed." Tiffany mocked my actions by flipping on her back, accompanying me in my aimless staring.

"Do what you did with me," Tiffany said, "Talk to him. Explain what happened."

"Been there, done that," I say, "He kinda kicked me off his property and threatened to get me arrested." Tiffany snorted.

"That's crap," she said, dismissively, "He was just screwin' with ya to scare you off."

"Well it worked," I pouted, "I'm not going back there. He's changed."

"Yeah," Tiffany giggled, "He turned into a freakin' ape, man. What's up with the beard?" Her giggle filled my ears and I couldn't help but crack a smile.

"I was wondering the same thing," I confess, "But talking about his beard isn't going to get me anywhere." The conversation was halted by the steady ringing of our telephone. We both laid there, not wanting to move from our comfort zones. I poked Tiffany's side, egging her to get it, but she only swatted my hand away.

"You haven't answered the phone in three years, it's the least you can do." Tiffany said sternly as she raised a brow, daring me to argue. I simply rolled out of my bed and dragged myself toward the kitchen. Whoever this was, it better be important.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Trace sighed as he paced around Justin's kitchen. His hands ran over his newly shaven head and he sucked his teeth as he fought over what to do. Trace knew Justin better than anybody besides his mother. He knew that Justin wanted to know what made Alonsha leave the way she did, but was too stubborn to set his pride aside and let her in. Hell, everybody wanted to know what she was thinking when she up and left. But he didn't want to intervene. The last thing he wanted was to cause some hostile feelings from Justin to be directed at him. Yet, he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that was telling him intervening was the right thing to do.

"God, I hate being such a good friend," Trace mumbled to himself as his hand grabbed the phone off of its based and dialed the ten digits of Alonsha's number. He was surprised he hadn't forgotten it after so long. As the phone rang for the third time, Trace was beginning to worry nobody was home. His courage to do this might never come back, so someone better pick up.

"Hello?" Trace let out a relieved sigh as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Alonsha?" he questioned, as he struggled to remember exactly what she sounded like.

"This is her," Alonsha answered slowly, "Who's this?"

"It's Trace," he began, only to be interrupted.

"Hey, Trace. How have you been?" Alonsha's cheerful tone caused his smile to involuntarily spread across his face. He quickly dropped his grin when he realized it was forming.

"I'm good, I'm good," Trace informed her, "What about you?"

"I'm doing alright," Alonsha replied, "Minus the whole Justin flipping me off scenario last week." Trace was tempted to tell her she deserved it, but opted not to. He didn't want to be an enemy here.

"Well, I'm actually calling about that," Trace shifted uncomfortably, "Look, I know Justin hates you right about now, but I'm willing to help you change that." Alonsha smiled to herself.

"Really?" she asked, "How?"

"Justin wants to know why you left and so does everybody else," Trace explained, "But he's too stubborn to admit that. That's why I'm willing to listen for him."

"Okay," Alonsha nodded as Trace continued.

"I wanted to come over and allow you to explain to me what happened and why things went down the way they did. If I think it's a good enough explanation, I'll do what I can to convince Justin to hear you out."

"Good enough?" Alonsha questioned curiously.

"Yeah," Trace said, "I'm not going to convince him to do anything if you give me a bullshit excuse."

"I understand," Alonsha told him, "I appreciate it, Trace."

"Don't try to be all nice and stuff either," Trace stated firmly, "You're definitely not my favorite person right now either, so don't lie to me. I need a genuine explanation and that's all. Honesty is all I'm looking for, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Alonsha balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder as she opened up the fridge door.

"I'll be over in a few," Trace told her, "Just give me the address." Alonsha obliged to his request and they said their goodbyes.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Well, Trace's call didn't ease my nerves. Knowing that he's nowhere near on my side only caused my stomach to fill with butterflies as I replayed my excuse in my head over and over again. It seemed like it was less convincing every time I did that. I decided to stop, hoping it would ease the nervous feeling that's slowly consuming my sanity.

I don't even know why I'm so nervous. It's Trace! Well, I thought the same thing about Justin and we all saw how that went down. It's like everybody's inner bitch came out while I was gone. Maybe that'll change once things get explained. That's if my excuse is "good enough" for Trace. What the hell does he want me to tell him? That one of Justin's crazed fans held a gun to my head and told me to skip town or else? I don't even know where to begin to explain myself. It's all jumbled up in this gigantic head of mine, just dying to get out, but I could never find the right words.

"Yo, I'm gonna head down to Scott's, sugar. I'll be back later," Tiffany babbled as she scurried back and forth through the living room and the kitchen.

"Now?" I asked, "But wouldn't you rather stay here and. . ."

"Explain things to Trace for you?" she added, "I'll pass." She flopped down on the cushion next to me, bending over to tie her shoes.

"Well, no, but you can be a support system," I reasoned. Tiffany rolled her eyes and smiled.

"You'll be fine," she assured, "Just tell him what you told me." I watched as she stood, grabbing her keys off the coffee table.

"What if it's not good enough?" I asked as Tiffany walked toward the door.

"It'll be good enough," she said hurriedly, "He'll tell Justin and all will be forgiven." She swung open the door and jumped back slightly.

"Sorry," I heard Trace's voice said, "Some old lady let me in the building." Tiffany laughed and shoved Trace into the apartment.

"That's Ms. Dubose," she informed him, "And go easy on her." Tiffany gestured toward me and Trace smiled softly.

"I'll try," I didn't like the sound of that, "Good seeing you." Trace called after Tiffany's retreating figure.

"You too!" I heard her shout back before Trace shut the door behind himself. The smile that was on his face disappeared and an emotionless expression took its place.

"I'm glad you came, Trace," I started nervously, "Thank you for giving me a chance to explain things," He nodded and took a seat on the cushion beside me. His eyes traveled around the room curiously before landing on me.

"Didn't you have a dog?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah, he's with Jared and Allison though. Farah loves him." He nodded before taking in a deep breath.

"Okay, let's hear it," He turned toward me, leaning on the armrest of the couch, "Make it good." I sighed and turned to face him.

"It's a long story. . ."

"I'm all ears," Trace said, "Just start talking." I bit my bottle lip and sat Indian-style on the couch. I calmed myself down, trying not to blurt everything out in an incomprehensible speech. I was going to be honest and help him understand.

I looked at Trace, who's annoyed stare only intimidated me more, before deciding it was now or never.

Well, here goes nothing.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Justin pulled his sunglasses over his face as the bright sun stung his eyes. He looked around the resort and waved at his stepdad as he walked inside the rented home Justin got for their stay. He had decided to spend some time with his parents and Cameron for the weekend. He loved being with them and speaking of Cameron. . .

"Yo, Cam!" Justin called, sticking his head back inside the door he had just stepped out of, "Come on, I wanna get some ice cream!" He could hear Cameron laugh as she made her way down the stairs, her blond locks flowing over her shoulders as she shook her hair back into a ponytail.

"So do I," Cameron told him, "But Lynn's not ready yet." Justin rolled his eyes and sighed. He bet that she was dolling up for Paul.

"I swear, she's acting like it's their first date or something," Justin smiled, "It's annoying."

"It's cute," Cameron argued, "She loves him. Just like I love you," she cooed as she sauntered over to him, draping her long arms over his board shoulders. They giggled and brushed noses before being interrupted.

"Ahem," Paul coughed, "Hope I'm not interrupting anything." Cameron and Justin laughed, pulling apart, but grabbing hold of each other's hands.

"Well, dad, you are," Justin joked, "But don't worry, we'll finish later." Cameron laughed as she swatted his arm playfully. Paul smiled and shook his head.

"I'm ready!" Lynn announced as she made her way down the stairs. Her spring dress hung loosely from her body and sandals adorned her small feet. She looked so cute with her hair newly straightened.

"Lookin' good, mamas," Justin complimented as Paul walked over to her and offered his arm.

"Gorgeous, actually," Paul said as he planted a tiny kiss on her forehead. Justin pretended to vomit before his cell phone rang.

"What?" he asked into the phone, seeing that it was Trace's number on his caller id.

"Dude, you're gonna kill me, but I had to do it." Justin raised a brow and guided Cameron outside with him as they made their way to his car.

"What, man?" Justin asked, "You didn't break anything, did you?" Justin went over to the passenger side of his Hummer and opened the door for Cameron.

"No, I didn't break anything," Trace assured, "But I did talk to Alonsha earlier this week." Justin hopped into the driver's seat and made sure that everybody was inside.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Justin asked angrily, "I told you I didn't want anything to do with her." Cameron's ear caught onto Justin's words and she curiously leaned over, trying not to seem too obvious.

"But she explained everything," Trace said, "I really think you should hear her out."

"What is this? Are you on her side now?" Justin started to pull out of the parking spot and headed down the road.

"No, of course not," Trace said, "But I think it's best that you talk to her and work this out."

"There's nothing to work out," Justin growled, "I hate her and always will regardless of what she has to say."

"I don't believe that," Trace argued.

"No, I don't believe you!" Justin yelled as he turned the car sharply, causing everyone to grip their seats, "How could you go behind my back and do this?"

"Don't be so dramatic," Trace groaned, "You know you want to know what happened just as much as I want you to know."

"What I want to know is what happened to my best friend because he wouldn't be an ass and talk to some bitch I can't stand."

"Justin!" Lynn said, "What is wrong with you?" Justin took in a deep breath and sighed.

"Sorry, mom," he whispered, "Trace, you are an ass. I'm gonna beat the crap out of you when I get home." With that, Justin hung up his cell phone and focused on the road ahead of him.

Justin walked inside his home, leaving his bags at the front door as he continued his journey through the foyer. He kicked his Nike's off and roughly slammed his cell phone into its charger base as he walked passed the coffee table. The grumbling in his stomach forced him into the kitchen in search of something to eat. He spotted a box of Frosted Flakes and grabbed it. With a plop, he jumped onto the counter and stuck his hand inside the box, cupping some of its sugar-coated contents, and brought it to his mouth.

"Were you going to help me with these?" Cameron breathed as she dragged her suitcases into his living room. Justin rolled his eyes and Cameron made her way into the kitchen.

"Sorry," he mumbled through a mouth full of cereal. Cameron glared at him as she strolled over to his spot on the counter. She grabbed the box from his hands, eliciting a whimper of protest from him.

"You know, ever since you got that call from Trace, you've been really crabby," she told him as she began to snack on the cereal as well, "What's wrong?" Justin shrugged, not really wanting to rehash his earlier argument with Trace. He was completely pissed that he had went behind his back and did that, so he decided not to speak to Trace until he apologized.

"Nothing's wrong," Justin lied, "I'm just having one of those bad. . . weeks." Cameron laughed drily.

"Right, and I saw a fairy smoking a joint with the president," Justin laughed at her ridiculous comeback.

"If you saw that, I think you were the one smoking the joint." They laughed and Cameron playfully slapped his arm as she settled in between his open legs.

"Seriously," she pouted, "What's wrong?" Justin stared down into her eyes. The cyan color darkened with concern for him. His hand came up to caress her soft cheek and she smiled at him.

Justin sighed, "Do you remember the girl I told you about?" he asked, "The one that hurt me before I met you?" Cameron nodded.

"What about her?" Justin rolled his eyes at the thought of Alonsha.

"She's in town," Cameron's eyes widened in shock, "In fact, you've met her already."

"What? When?" Cameron questioned as her face contorted with confusion. She had no idea who this girl was. Justin never spoke her name or showed her any pictures of her. He said it had hurt too much to do, so she never forced the issue.

"You know that girl that came here, like two weeks ago when we were having that barbeque?" Cameron thought back until a light bulb went off in her head.

"That's her?" she gasped, "Why didn't you say something?" Justin shrugged.

"I was just so pissed off that she showed up at my door like that," Justin confessed, "She acted like I was going to forgive her." Cameron angrily furrowed her arched brows.

"You shouldn't," she suggested, "She really hurt you. You loved her and she screwed you over." Justin nodded and softly smiled.

"I'm glad to have somebody on my side," Justin said, "Trace apparently crossed over while we were in Florida."

"How? What did he do?"

"He had the audacity to tell me that she can explain and that I should hear her out," Justin told her, "I mean, what the hell is that?"

"Well, maybe you should hear her out," Cameron shrugged, "It wouldn't hurt." Justin's eyes widened in shock.

"Wouldn't. . . Wha-," He paused as he stuttered over his words, "I thought you said not to forgive her?"

"You're not forgiving her, you're just hearing her out," Cameron explained, "You deserve some explanation, Justin. If you don't talk to her about things, you might regret it."

"You know what?" Justin asked rhetorically as he slid off the counter, forcing Cameron to back up, "I'm going to talk to my mom about this. She'll have more sense than you and Trace." Cameron placed her hands on her hips, shocked by his words.

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" she asked, "You're the one without the sense and you're being very immature right now."

"I'm immature?" Justin pointed to his chest and narrowed his eyes, "You, Cameron, are the queen of immaturity."

"What?" Cameron screeched.

"You heard me," Justin said coolly, "You're the immature one. I'm acting my age, why don't you do the same?"

"Oh, this is the age issue again?" Cameron questioned, "If my age is such a huge problem, why did you say it didn't matter?"

"It's not about that!" Justin yelled before realizing this had nothing to do with Cameron. He was mad at Alonsha and took it out on everybody else.

"Then what is it about?"

"It's about Alonsha and me," Justin answered, "I just. . . I need to be alone, okay?" Cameron nodded as her anger dissipated.

"Okay, I'll be down here if you need me." Justin smiled softly before turning around and heading upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. He took long strides toward his bedroom, shutting the door behind him when he entered it. His bare feet slid across the white carpeted floor as he made his way to his bed. Justin's hand reached for the flip phone that was clipped to his belt loop and he dialed his mother's number.

"Hey, Justin," Lynn answered, "Did you get in okay?" Justin's fingers began to pick at a piece of lint on his comforter before he answered.

"Yeah, we got in," Justin fell back against the bed and sighed, "Mom?"

"Yes, baby?" Lynn asked. Justin scrunched up his nose.

"What do you think I should do about Alonsha?" he questioned, "I mean, Trace and Cameron think I should talk to her, just to hear her side of things." Lynn paused as she thought it over.

"I think you should do what you feel is right," she stated calmly, "This is your decision."

"Mommy. . ." Justin whined, "Why can't you just tell me?" Lynn laughed, already picturing the pout on his face.

"Because, it's your choice, Justin," Lynn said, "All I can say is that you know what you have to do. You're just too stubborn." Justin rolled his eyes, realizing that his mother was right again.

"Why do I feel like she's winning here?" Justin complained as he sat up straight.

"Because you're man with too much pride," Lynn said, "Put all that aside, just for a little while."

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Okay, so Trace called me about a week ago, informing me that Justin is no longer speaking to him because he tried to help me out. I felt terrible when I got the news and thanked him for trying anyway. He promised that he'd keep trying, swearing that Justin would cave in eventually, but I told him that I didn't want to cause anymore trouble than I already have.

But the good news is that I've been accepted back into the open arms of the center. Chris was more than thrilled to have me back. Adam was still there, doing better than when I was there. He told me that he let Kimberly go (the girl he had been dating and stringing along for years). It had been hard on him, but he was happy that she moved on and got married. We had a nice conversation about the things going on around the rec.

Anyway, I spent the whole day getting hugs and kisses from everybody. My office was still the same, small space it had been. I loved it. I had a nostalgic longing for it since I left. Remembering all the good times. Like when I realized I was in love with Justin. Oh Justin, it sucks that he hates me. But things will work out, hopefully.

"Come on. . ." I mumble as I shuffle through my purse in search of my keys. I finally find them stuck in one of the dark corners. I quickly pick out the right key and unlock the door. In one with swift motion, I'm inside with the door locked behind me.

"Alonsha?" I screamed involuntarily as my hand cupped over my mouth. I turned in time to see a wide-eyed Justin with a beanie covering his head and hands dug deep into his pockets.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," My hand rested over my heart as I stared at him in shock, "You scared the shit out of me." Justin shrugged and shifted his feet.

"Sorry," he stated simply as he took a step back.

"How'd you get in here?" I asked as I hung up my hoodie and turned to face him.

"I came by a little earlier. Tiffany told me I could stay here because you would be home in ten minutes or something." I nodded and twisted my hands out of nervousness.

"Did she head down to Scott's?" I asked as Justin nodded, allowing the silence to fill the room. As we stood there, for God knows how long, the swarm of butterflies in my gut doubled. What the hell was I suppose to say to him? Before, conversation would just happen. But now, with all this tension and drama, I can barely breathe.

"You painted?" Justin questioned innocently as his eyes ran over the creme colored walls.

"Yeah, Tiffany did some redecorated while I was gone."

"Hmm. . .Looks nice." Justin's eyes fell on mine momentarily. I stared back as watched as a hurt expression took over his features before he turned away.

"Thanks," I mumbled, "Would you like something to eat or drink?" I ask politely, filling in the silent gaps.

"Sure," Justin replies with yet another shrug, "Do you have any tea?" I nodded and walked into the kitchen, Justin trailing a few feet behind.

"Green tea or mint tea?" I offer. Justin thinks for a moment.

"Green." I pull out a small tea bag, placing it inside of a black mug. As I make my way over to the stove top, I hear the scrapping of a table chair. Justin's sitting down, which means he plans on staying. That's a good thing, right?

"So," I began after turning on the heat beneath the kettle, "How's your mom?"

"She's fine," Justin answers, "Everybody's fine." Well, that cut short my long list of names.

"Are you and Trace okay?" I asked, feeling guilty for the entire fighting situation.

"We're good," Justin assures, "He's the one that convinced me to come here." Convince. . . I never thought I'd see the day where Justin would consider visiting me some type of burden.

"Well, that's good to know," I say, "I made a peach cobbler," I blurted suddenly, "There's some in the fridge. You can help yourself while I go change into something more comfortable," I froze, realizing my poor choice of words, "Like sweats or something," I add as Justin sends me a weird look before nodding. I turn and make my way into my bedroom, locking the door behind me.

My eyes roll at my stupidity before I make way over to my dresser. I open a drawer and pull out my sweats and a white shirt that read "God Milk?". As I slipped the dress pants from body and unbuttoned my striped blouse, I kept an ear out for Justin. I could hear the clangor of dishes and eating utensils as well as the microwave. I removed my socks and quickly slipped on my sweats and t-shirt. Before I walked out of the room, I glanced in the mirror, making sure my ponytail was still straight.

Justin's eyes gave me the up and down as I walked across the cold tile floor. He was removing the heated cobbler slice from the microwave, placing it on the table. As he took a seat, I sat down across from him. The shriek of the kettle caused me to rise from my seat again. My hand gripped the black handle, tipping the kettle slightly to allow the steaming hot water to pour into the mug. I grabbed a spoon, swirling the liquid together.

"There ya go," I said, more to myself than him, as I placed the mug in front of Justin.

"Thanks," he said, "We should probably get started," he said in a businesslike tone.

"Get started on what?" I asked while taking a seat.

"This great excuse Trace forced me to come down here and listen to." I nod, taking in a deep breath.

"Okay," I say, "I guess I can start from the beginning and work my way up." Justin nods as he chips of an edge of crust from the cobbler.

"That would be nice," His tone was far from polite, but I decided to ignore it. He did come all the way down here, ready and willing to listen to my complicated excuse.

"Well, about a month before I left, I began to stress out again. You know, the whole self-conscious, second guessing stages of my personality began to rear their ugly heads and I was practically going insane with you on a tour and everybody else living their lives and whatnot. So, I just kinda suppressed it. Thinking that if I pretended I didn't feel those things, they'd go away. I actually ended up with the opposite effect.

You and I became a huge issue for me. Everything was going good, minus the whole Danyelle scenario, but I couldn't help but think that something wrong was going to happen, or that I wasn't good enough for you. It kinda got to the point where hearing you say 'I love you' felt like a lie. That scared me. You're the only guy that I trusted enough to give my heart to, but that wasn't even enough.

I was so messed up then, Justin. I couldn't let go of the past and I was terrified of the future. I always saw the negatives and someone else pointed out the positives. Looking the mirror was painful for me because I couldn't stand the woman staring back at me. I didn't love myself and I couldn't see the beauty that everyone claimed was there."

"So, running away was your brilliant plan to solve this problem?" Justin raised a brow, "Why didn't you talk to somebody? Why didn't you come to me?"

"Because, Justin, I was sick of doing that," I sighed and licked my lips, "I wanted to do this on my own."

"It's okay to ask for help," Justin argued, "That's why you have people in your life,"

"I know that, but that's one of my problems," I said, "I was dependent upon everybody. I couldn't do anything without getting someone else's approval. I'm surprised I could breathe without asking first."

"Alright, fine, you wanted to be Miss. Independent, and prove that you can do it all by yourself. I get it," Justin quipped, "But did you have to get on a plane to. . . Where the hell did you go?"

"Rhode Island," I answer simply. Justin's face contorted with confusion.

"What the hell?" he asked, "Rhode Island?" I shrugged and looked down at my hands.

"That's where the retreat was," I explained. My words only added to the obvious confusion he was feeling.

"Retreat?"

"Yeah," I say, "I was at the center one day and I was placing things on the bulletin board when this flyer caught my eye. It was some spiritual cleansing resort down there. I know it sounds insane and hippie-like, but it wasn't anything like that. It was one big therapy session."

"Why didn't you explain all this before?" Justin questioned, "And why did you leave right before our anniversary?"

"I know it was a shitty time to leave, but I had to make it down there on time for registration or not go at all," I explained, "And I didn't explain this because I know you, Justin. You wouldn't have let me go."

"Well, duh," Justin stated drily, "I could've paid for a personal therapist if you needed one that badly." I rolled my eyes, annoyed with him for not understanding me.

"That would've been a dependent action," I pointed out, "I had to do this on my own, don't you get that?" I questioned.

"No, I don't," Justin sneered, "I don't understand you and this freaky retreat you went on to cleanse your damn spirit."

"I just had to, okay?" I was almost tempted to reach across the table and hold his hand, "I was carrying so much baggage. Letting go of all that was worth the three years I spent away from home."

"Okay, fine," Justin said, "But why didn't you at least call?"

"Because I wasn't ready to face you or anybody for that matter," I paused, "I felt. . . I felt like I would run back home if I heard your voice or read a letter of yours. I was so in love with you, Justin. All you had to do was ask, and I would've been on the first flight home," Justin swallowed and looked away from me, "Besides, I was afraid that you hated me." I laughed at the irony. Justin smirked, and I was happy to see he still had that sense of humor of his.

"I don't really hate you," Justin confessed, "Just what you did. How you left and everything was wrong. No matter what the excuse." I nodded in agreement.

"But it was the only way I could do it without having to face opposition."

"Well, Alonsha, when people love you, they tend to not want you half way across the country," Justin groaned, "Did you even consider our feelings about this?"

"Of course I did!" I said, raising my voice in a fit of anger, "So much so that I practically ran off the plane when I got to the airport," I calmed down, "Justin, it hurt to leave and it hurts now seeing so much change and me having to catch up is no fun either. I don't like being out of your life. Especially since you've been such a huge part in mine." Justin looked up at me, his eyes big and blue. I had forgotten how beautiful they are, but the hurt and sadness in them wasn't what I was hoping to see.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"Alonsha, I just can't forgive you," Justin said, "I don't even know how or where to start because I wasn't prepared for this," He gestured toward her as his eyes focused on hers, "When you left, I went through a lot of shit. The tour and everything. The press and media. The paparazzi were on my case like you wouldn't believe, and I just about lost my mind. I know things were crazy when you were around too, but at least you were around. Alonsha, I was dependent on you too. I needed the assurance of knowing I had somebody waiting at home for me. I wanted to be able to pick up the phone and have a late night conversation with you. But I couldn't because I thought you didn't love me enough to stay."


When you left
I lost a part of me
It's still so hard to believe


Justin continued after a brief pause, "I felt like I couldn't breathe without you, Alonsha. You have no idea how much I loved you," Justin told her, looking away from her, not wanting his pain to be anymore evident then it already was, "I kept thinking to myself, 'What am I going to do now?' because I needed you. Wanted you. But I couldn't have you. I felt like I'd never love again. I didn't want to either because I couldn't bring myself to put anyone else before you."


Who else am I gonna lean on
When times get rough
Who's gonna talk to me on the phone
Till the sun comes up
Who's gonna take your place
There ain't nobody better


"But," Justin added, "I ran into Cameron. And she changed everything," Alonsha smiled, seeing his eyes light up when he said her name, "I love her and I'm grateful that I didn't stay at home and mope around instead of going to the Kid's Choice Awards."

"So that's where ya'll met?" Alonsha asked curiously. Justin nodded.

"Yeah, about five months after your departure," Alonsha was somewhat shocked that he got over her so quickly, "It wasn't easy at first though. I didn't trust her because of all the hurt I was going through, but she didn't trust me either and was honest about it from the beginning. So, we were on the same boat and just took our time to reach the point where we're at."

"That's great," Alonsha commented.

"I know," Justin stated confidently, "She was also one of the folks that persuaded me to hear you out."

"Give her my thanks," Alonsha told him. Justin took a sip from the warm tea.

"You might want to hold onto that thanks," He licked his lips, "I didn't forgive you yet." Alonsha frowned.

"That's understandable," she agreed, "I'm just grateful you took the time to hear me out." Justin nodded before glancing down at the Rolex watch that was on his wrist.

"I better go," Justin said as he stood from his chair and pushed it in, "Thanks for the cobbler and tea." Alonsha nodded and smiled.

"You're welcome," She made her way to his side and began to walk toward the door with him, "Thanks again for coming by." Justin nodded again, and opened up her apartment door. He paused and turned around to face her.

"I'll call you," he said, "Sometime. . .soon." His less then convincing tone told Alonsha not to hold her breath. Justin flipped his hood over his head and put his hands in his jacket pockets. Alonsha watched as he took the stairs down before going back inside of her apartment. She leaned against the wooden door and rolled her eyes.

Her little explanation wasn't even the half of it.



Song Credit:

"We Belong Together" - Mariah Carey

Well, I wasn't totally honest with Justin that night three weeks ago. I don't know if he sensed that or not, but it might explain the delayed phone call that he promised. Everything I said was the honest to God truth . . . I just failed to mention a major part. So, I'm guessing that the truth must be revealed at some time or another, which means I might as well get this off my chest.

It took me only a year to leave that retreat. Yeah, one year. I was so happy when I was feeling good about myself for the first time in my life. I was on top of the world and thought I was ready to face anything. Even my father. The big man himself was something that seemed so small to me at the time. I wondered why I was so afraid of him in the first place. I finally started to see that I deserved happiness and didn't have to torture myself by making myself believe that I didn't.


I will not make the same mistakes that you did
I will not let myself
Cause my heart so much misery


So, in the mist of my newly gained confidence, I hopped my happy ass on a plane to Englewood, California to face my greatest fear.


I will not break the way you did,
You fell so hard
I've learned the hard way
To never let it get that far


Everything was going surprisingly well. I woke on time, got on my flight and landed safely. The traffic wasn't so bad and I was still on my natural, bubbly high. I even got up to the front door without freaking out and turning around before anyone noticed I was there. My hand nostalgically ran over the wooden door that led to my childhood hell before pressing firmly against the familiar doorbell.

It was only a matter of seconds before it swung open, revealing a timid, middle-aged woman, "Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized, "This must be the wrong house."

"Well, who are you looking for?" the woman asked curiously as she stood up straighter. I looked over her pale skin and tired eyes. She looked so worn down.

"Um, Michael Daniels?" I said. She nodded and opened the door wider. I took that as an invitation inside and briskly walked through the door. My eyes scanned the living room and I realized that nothing much had changed. The furniture was all the same, just rearranged. The t.v. had been updated to a big screen and a new recliner replaced the old one my father once owned.

My mood was slightly dampened as I remembered once thinking my father loved a chair more than me, but I perked up when I realized that it was just a thought. He was my father, for Pete's sake. There was a reason behind the abuse and hurtful words. My schooling and my retreat taught me that many people take out anger on the weaker people because they can't fight off a bigger problem in their lives.

I guess that's what I was there for. To find the bigger problem so I could let go of all my hurt when I could confirm that it wasn't me who caused him pain.

"Helen, who was that?" I snap my head in the direction of his voice. I can feel myself recoil as his large form comes into few. He's dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans. His beer belly has slimmed down some, but he still held that intimidating glare in his eyes. But I refused to back down. I came way too far to just quit.


I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point it out


"Well, this young lady . . . " Helen began before being abruptly cut off by my father.

"What are you doing here?" His tone is far from welcoming, but I don't back down.

"I came to see you," I explain, "I wanted to catch up on a few things." He snorts and makes his way to his recliner, plopping down with a thump. He gestured toward the sofa across from him and I make my way over to it, taking a seat.

"So, you wanna catch up, eh?" I nod, "Are you sure that's all you want?" I shrug, suddenly feeling like a five-year-old as I twiddle my thumbs.

"I'd like some explanations too," I answer honestly, "Just to get some closure." Suddenly, his hearty laugh boomed through my ears as he turns to Helen.

"Do you hear this?" he asked, "She wants some 'explanations'." Helen smiles awkwardly and I'm tempted to break his fingers as he makes air quotations.

"I think I deserve an explanation," I state calmly. He raises a brow with a smug and amused look on his face.

"Deserve?" he questioned, "Is this the part where I apologize and all that other shit?"

"I just want to know why things happened the way they did while I was growing up," I said, "Maybe we can find the root of the problem." My professional tone takes over as a feeling of vulnerability came over me.

"You want to know the root of the problem, Alonsha?" He leans in toward me and I can smell the alcohol on his breath, "You."

"I don't believe that," I told him, trying to hold back the angry tears that were threatening to drown me, "I didn't do anything to deserve that type of childhood."

"You were born," he stated simply, "Enough said." Despite my many attempts to fight it, a single tear rolled down my face as my heart broke for the millionth time.

"You haven't changed," I said softly, "You're still the same." I stood as he rolled his eyes. I sent a silent wish that they would get stuck that way.

"Neither have you," he told me, "You're still weak and pathetic. Crawling all the back here for some apology you don't deserve."


I cannot cry
Because you know that's weakness in your eyes


"I. . ."

"You know what you deserved?" he sneered, "Everything I gave you and so much more." I didn't even know how to respond to that. I worked so hard to gain my confidence, and in a few short minutes, he tore it all apart.


My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with


As I practically ran out of the house, I could hear every sinister threat and word my father ever said to me. It all echoed through my head, reminding me of how useless I really was. I tried my best to find a Greyhound bus station with blurry eyes. I brought a last-minute ticket back to Rhode Island and did the stupidest thing I could've ever done: Gave up.


Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid


I didn't go back to the retreat, thinking that it was a waste of time. I decided to make a new name for myself in Rhode Island. Since I wasn't a familiar face, nobody to could label me or expect anything from me. I was free to do as I pleased. Now that was liberating. I wasn't anybody's bitch. I didn't have to be the best friend or perfect girlfriend. I didn't have to listen to him. I finally had control of my life.


I watched you die
I heard you cry every night in your sleep
I was so young
You should have known better than to lean on me


I became completely selfish. Before, I was always concerned about what was going in the lives of my friends back home in LA. Wondering how the center was going. Hoping that Tom and Diana were doing alright. Praying that Adam was adjusting to his new environment . . .

But that was before I got new friends: Gin and coke, Jack and coke, rum and coke . . . We became quite close as time went by. I'd spend my days working as a waitress at some bar before heading down the street to drink at another one. For a while, it was all good. I downed a few before heading out to the dance floor, shaking it like there was no tomorrow. It was even better when I started to slip my drinking habits into my afternoon and morning schedules. And before I knew it, I had developed an addiction.


You never thought of anyone else
You just saw your pain


It took me six months to realize it though. I just thought I was doing what any normal twenty-something year old would do: drink and party, party and drink. But once the partying stopped and the drinking continued, I began to see the light. It only added to the depression I was already feeling, so it led to more drinking and crying.


And now I cry in the middle of the night
For the same damn thing


Then one day, I woke up in the small apartment above the bar I had been working at temporarily. At first, I didn't realize where I was. My head was heavy and my body ached. A ray of sunlight seeping in through a crack in my blind struck me in the eye as I struggled to lift myself off the bed. As my hand touched down against my mattress, I was surprised to feel the sticky wetness of my own vomit. I groaned and rolled over as the scent attacked my nose for the first time.

That's when it hit me. I was becoming my father. A lonely alcoholic who could barely stand in the mornings because of the enormous hangovers from all the drinking I had done the night before. As I brought myself to the eight by ten cell of a bathroom, I looked in the mirror and saw it all in front of me. What I had become and what I would continue to be if I didn't make a positive change.


Because of you
I try my hardest just to forget everything
Because of you
I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you
I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid


The rehabilitation center in the retreat facilitation took me right in. I spent over a year in detox before I finally found the strength to stare at a beer and not get the urge to drink the whole six-pack. I'm proud of that and I'm proud that I can I say I've been alcohol free since the day I handed myself in for help. I love myself too much to go through that again. I'm just hoping Justin takes the news as well as Tiffany and them did.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"Call her."

"No."

"Call her."

"No."

"Call her, damn it!" Trace yelled as he slammed down his fist, causing Justin to mess up the line he was writing.

"No!" Justin yelled back, "And you made me fuck up my song book." Trace narrowed his eyes at his friend before sighing.

"Why not?" Trace asked. Justin looked down at his book.

"Why not what?" he asked absentmindedly.

"Why won't you call her?" Trace questioned in a frustrated tone.

"Because . . . " Justin said, trailing off with nothing else to say. Trace waited for a moment to see if he'd continue.

"Because is not an answer, Justin," Trace informed him. Justin sucked his teeth and slammed his book shut.

"Because I don't want to!" Justin whined as he stood from his kitchen table and walked out of the room, Trace right on his heels.

"Oh, that's mature," Trace taunted, "'I don't want to," he mocked, "You should be ashamed." Justin's jaw tightened and he ignored Trace's comments. He should be ashamed. He knew that Alonsha was being completely honest in her words, and in a weird way, he understood what she was talking about after thinking about things. But he just couldn't bring himself to forgive her. Who's to say she won't break his heart again?

"Trace, it's not that easy," Justin explained, "I can't just forgive her like that. I need time."

"It's been three weeks, man," Trace reminded him, "And you said you thought over her words and kinda understood her stance."

"I did, and I do," Justin sighed, "It's just . . . "

"It's just what?" Trace pried.

"I don't know," Justin whimpered, "I just don't think I should be the one to back down."

"You're not," Trace assured, "She's the one that begged you to talk to her." Justin shrugged. She had done a reasonable amount of begging.

"But . . . "

"No buts!" Trace said sharply, "Just put it into perspective." Trace told him with a serious tone.

"Put what into perspective?" Justin asked as he took a seat on his living room sofa. Trace sat on the love seat across from him.

"Your life," Trace explained, "Plot it out in black and white."

"What about grey?" Justin questioned. Trace waved him off.

"There's no grey, dude," Trace sat up and leaned in toward him, "Your life with Alonsha in it, or your life without Alonsha in it. It's as simple as that."

"And there's no grey?" Justin asked again.

"No, just with or without," Trace told him, "She can't sorta be in your life."

Justin raised a brow, "Why not?"

"Because . . . " Trace paused, "Because I said so."

"But . . . "

"Stop being a dick and just think about it," Trace interrupted. Justin sighed and rested his head in his hand.

To have Alonsha in his life, or not to have Alonsha in his life. That is the question.



Song Credit:

"Because of You" - Kelly Clarkson

Justin sighed as he leaned his head against the cool glass of his Mercedes' window. His eyes traveled up the tall apartment building and his heart sank with the realization of what he was about to do.

He couldn't have Alonsha in his life.

Not that he didn't want to. Justin knew that he had love for her and he always would, but that didn't make up for the pain she put him through. Sure, their friendship means a lot to him, but it isn't the world. It's hard though. Alonsha and him had been virtually inseparable since their meeting in the Gap store a few years back. She knew things about him that Cameron had yet to find out and understood him in some ways nobody else did.

At least she used to. But things were different now. Over the past three years, Justin has grown, moved on, and has learned things the hard way. Especially heart break. He learned that the only way to prevent it was to kill every chance it got. That's why he was parked outside of her apartment complex, to stop the inevitable.

Alonsha was going to hurt him again, one way or another. He just knew that if he forgave her, their friendship would fall right into place and she'd slowly but surely inch her way into his heart. Then BAM! She'll fly off to Maine somewhere and leave him to bleed. Justin wasn't kidding when he said she hurt him. Alonsha should've just cut him with razor blades and thrown him in salt water. The burn would've hurt a lot less than the turmoil he went through worrying about her for those three years.


I told I would be there for you
A promise I intend to keep
But the subject matter here is a little too close to home
And now I can't take back what I gave


"It's now or never, Justin," he mumbled to himself as he finally exited the black vehicle he had been sitting in for fifteen minutes. As his Nike cladded feet touched the ground, his stomach overflowed with butterflies. He felt so guilty for what he was about to do.

Justin let out a ragged breath as he made his way inside. He decided to take the stairs, hoping that the small walk would ease his nerves. When he finally approached her floor, he took his time walking to her door. His hand reached up and gently tapped on stained wood. As he inhaled and exhaled, he tried to convince himself that this was the right thing to do.


All the times we've seen
All the states we've been in
You always saved me from my troubled self it seemed


The clicks of her door's locks caught his attention. He looked and nervously dug his hands into his pockets when she was standing in front of him, all smiles in her shorts and tee.

"Justin," she greeted, "I didn't know you were coming down today." The thought finally occurred to him that he didn't call her in advance because of his nerves.

"Sorry," he apologized, "I was just in the neighborhood, I guess." Lie. Such a huge lie.

"Oh, well come on in," she offered politely, "It's nice to have you here." Justin weakly smiled and walked in her cozy home. An apple cinnamon scent entered his senses as he made his way inside of the small living room.

"Smells good," Justin complimented, "Are you cookin'?" Alonsha nodded as she locked the door.

"Apple pie," she stated simply, "Adam was feeling a little homesick, so I offered to bake him his favorite dessert." Justin was almost tempted to roll his eyes at the thought of the guy. He had yet to meet him, but just knowing he was still breathing was irritating.

"So. . ." Justin began, "You and Adam, huh?" Alonsha laughed that contagious cackle before making her way into the kitchen.

"Yeah, sure," she told him sarcastically, "We're an item." Justin smiled awkwardly as he followed her into the kitchen. He watched as she bent over and grabbed the golden brown pie out of the oven. His eyes fell onto her ass and he mentally kicked himself.

"Alonsha?" Justin spoke softly as Alonsha rested the dish on the stove top to cool, "We need to talk." He could see her glow dim down at his tone. She nodded and took off the cooking gloves she had been wearing.

"I know," she sighed, "I've got something to tell you too."


But now I'm hearing all these words you say
And I'm not sure if I can stay
And listen to you melting all my dreams


"I think I should go first," Justin interrupted, "Believe me, you want to hear this." Actually, Justin just didn't want to hear her. The last thing he needed was one of those 'You're such a great guy' speeches that cause him to go through another guilt trip.

"Justin, I really think that you-"

"I can't do this," he stated, abruptly cutting her off, "I can't forgive you."


Baby its you that kept my feet on the ground
Thought that I could choose if I always wanted you around
Darling I do
Think we need time apart
I still need time to mend my broken seams


"Jay-"

"Alonsha, I know that this might be hard to deal with, but this is how I feel," Justin continued, "You did me wrong. Broke the trust I had for you and no matter what you say to me, that's not going to change."

"I beg to differ," Alonsha argued, only to be interrupted again.

"I think it's better if we spend some time apart, ya know?" Justin spoke slowly as he looked down at his hands, "It's been three years without you, and it sucked. But having you back doesn't really ease the pain. I feel like it's making things worse for me, for us."


I told you I would listen to you
So I'm all ears
But don’t ask me respond
You're pleased from my advice
'Cause now I'm too burdened to speak


"I listened to your side of things," Justin added, "I understand that you had to pull away and do your own thing, but I just can't get over the fact that you. . . abandoned me," He finally looked up at her, staring into her brown eyes, "I do love you, Lonnie. You know that's not gonna change. But I just can't let you in again. Not if there's a chance that you'll hurt me like before."


Baby it's you that kept my feet on the ground
Thought that I could choose if I always wanted you around
Darling I do
Think we need time apart
I think the time has come for me to go


"I mean, maybe it'll work out in the end," Justin carried on, "Maybe I'll be able to forgive you one day. . .Maybe I'll be able to truly understand what the hell you were thinking when you were away for those three years, not bothering to call. Maybe. . .Maybe we'll be friends again in the long run. But as of now, I can't. The confusion and shit in my head is so far from sorted out that it's not even funny. It's so not funny. . ."


But I can not forget how hard I cried
When I discovered you had lied
When you said I could never hurt like this


"Justin?" Alonsha stated softly, causing his blue eyes to meet her brown ones, "I really appreciate all that you're trying to say, but can I please get a word in?" He looked at her momentarily, before nodding slowly.

"Okay," he replied, "I'm listening."

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

". . .So, that's why I was gone for two more years," I said as I finished explaining myself to Justin. For a moment, he stared at me, eyes wide, mouth shut. The shocked expression on his baby face only caused me to feel some shame. I knew he was judging me in some way. Thinking that I really wasn't the person he once knew.

"I. . ." Justin began, only to trail off. I looked away from him, feeling uncomfortable beneath his gaze.

"You can't believe it, huh?" I finished for him with a soft smile, "I didn't believe it myself until I finally saw my reflection that morning." Unexpectedly, Justin's warm hand rested over mine. I looked up and he searched my eyes before smiling.

"I was going to say that I admired your strength, Alonsha," he stated honestly, "I'm sorry that you went through all that, but I'm proud of you for pulling through it. And by yourself? That's amazing."

"I had good people around me," I mentioned, "I also had some great people in mind." He stares at me for a second longer before realizing our hands are still connected. He glances down at them before pulling away from me.

"Well, I guess everything I said before was crap," He chuckled, "I think our friendship deserves a clean slate. What do you think?" I smiled brightly.

"I think that's all I ever wanted." Justin jumps up suddenly, placing his hands on his hips like he was some sort of superhero.

"How about a celebratory ice cream on me?" he offers, "They built this cute little sundae shop on Sunset." Before I can answer a giddy 'yes', I realize that I was suppose to go down to the center to give Adam some pie.

"Yeah, but could we make a stop at the center?" Justin raises a brow and I explain simply, "Adam's pie." He wrinkles his nose before sighing.

"Fine, but we're not waiting on the mofo," I laughed out loud and nodded.

"Okay," I agreed, "I'll just drop it off and run back to the car." Justin nods as I stand up and begin to gather up the dessert.

"Sounds like a plan," Justin smiled as he took the pie from my hands, "Let me carry this for you." I smiled and gave him the pie. I was grateful for his sudden change in attitude.

"Thanks." I walked over to the front door and held it open for him. As he walked through, I followed behind him, locking the door behind me. We took the elevator down to the first floor, exiting the building. Justin led the way to his Mercedes and opened the door for me. His inner southern gentlemen was definitely revealing himself today and I couldn't be happier.

And to think, I actually thought he'd see me differently. I'm glad that he admires my strength instead of being disgusted by my alcoholic down fall.

"You alright?" Justin asked as he glanced over at me. I nodded and offered him a small smile.

"How could I not be?" I asked, "I got my friend back," Justin laughed and stared intently at the road.


Reunited and it feels so good
Reunited 'cause we understood


"I see you're still the dork I remember," I rolled my eyes playfully, "And you still have that attitude." We both laughed as Justin continued down the small streets. The rest of our drive is in a comfortable silence and I can't get the smile off of my face. I know that Justin and I have a long way to go, but this is definitely a step forward. I was more than determined to get that best friend of mine back.

"You can pull over right here," I said as I pointed to a parking spot. Justin maneuvers the car into the area and took the pie off of my lap so that I could get out.

"Hurry up or I'm eating alone," Justin threatens with a lopsided grin. I once again rolled my eyes and smiled, taking the pie from his hands.

"Alright, man. No need to get feisty." He laughs and settles into his seat before I walk inside of the center. The kids instantly flock toward me, staring at the food in my hands.

"Back up, losers. That's mine!" Adam calls over the crowd as I giggle. The kids scatter away laughing as Adam approaches me.

"There's enough to share," I reasoned, "Let's not get greedy." He smiles and lifts the edge of the plastic covering, breathing in the scent.

"Hell no," he laughed, "This is just too good." I smile and give him the pie.

"At least give some to Chris." Adam shrugs.

"I guess I could spare one piece," he mumbles, "Or two, if you're interested." I give him a sympathetic look before looking outside. I can see Justin leaning over into the passenger seat window, raising a brow and pointing to his watch with a huge smile. I chuckle and turn back to Adam.

"Sorry, but I promised Justin we'd hang out," I explained, "Rain check?" Adam nods, waving me off.

"He's finally talking to you again, Lonnie," he said, "That's bigger than eating pie with me." I feel somewhat guilty, but he's right.

"Okay, as long as you're cool with it," I said as Adam offers me a one arm hug.

"Have fun, okay?" I nod, "And thanks for the pie."

"You're welcome," I told him politely before I turn and walk towards the door, "Share!" I call over my shoulder with a smile. He smiled and rolled his eyes. I make my way back out to the car where Justin impatiently sighs.

"Damn," he complains, "Were you making another pie or something." I laugh lightly.

"I was in there for like five minutes, Justin."

"Five minutes too long," he smirks, "What did he say?" I shrugged.

"He wanted to eat the pie with me, but I told him that I was hanging with you tonight." Justin bobbed his head to the sound of Trick Daddy's 'Sugar', turning up the volume.

"Are you and Adam. . ." He paused, "Close?"

"He's cool," I replied, "Very polite and kind. But we're not close. . . Friends, but not best friends, I guess."

"Cool." The car goes back to silence except for the music booming through his speakers.

"So, you and Cam, huh?" I started off, "You two are tying the knot?" Justin's face contorts with confusion.

"Did you read that out of a tabloid?" he questioned.

"No, Cameron told me," I turned to face him, "When I came back to your house that day. She said she was your fiance." Justin rolled his eyes.

"We're not engaged," Justin opposed.

"She had a ring on her finger," I said, "A very nice ring, might I add."

"It's a commitment ring," Justin elaborated, "Like a promise ring almost. She doesn't even want to-" He abruptly stopped speaking and I raised a brow.

"Doesn't want to what?" I questioned. Justin shook his head and licked his lips.

"It doesn't really matter," he said quietly, "This about our friendship, girl. Let's not worry about anything else, alright?" I can see him put on smile. I know we've been apart for three years, but I can tell a fake grin from a real one. Whatever he wasn't saying was upsetting him.

"You're right," I agreed, "This is about you and me, homeslice." Justin laughed heartily and looked over at me.

"Not that word again," he complained. I smiled over at him, despite the fact that he was once again facing the road.

"You know you love it," I taunted, "You just don't want to admit it." He snorted obnoxiously.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that." I glared at him and turned to face my window.

"Go to hell, Timberlake." Justin reaches over and pokes my side, causing me to giggle.

"Save me a seat?" he asked. I grinned and turned to him.

"You know it."


There's one perfect fit
And, sugar, this one is it
We both are so excited 'cause we're reunited, hey, hey



Song Credit:

"Sensitive Subject Matter" - Bonnie McKee

"Reunited"- Peaches & Herb