Patricia Hurley was black.

She knew she was because the white kids in her school reminded her of it every single day. She heard them whisper when she walked into class. Especially biology. She was the only one of two black girls in that class. Her friends thought she was a snob whenever she complained because she should've been grateful to be in honors biology and not worry about 'ignorant white folk'. She rolled her eyes. It was easier said than done. It was hard to ignore 'ignorant white folk' when they wrote the word 'nigger' all over her desk in black, bold letters and put tacks in her chair. It took her two weeks to realize that they'd never get tired of that joke and almost a year later, she still checked her seat for tacks.

It didn't matter anyway. No matter how many marches Dr. King held, they'd never stop. The segregation ended and they assumed it was a step forward, but Patricia secretly wished they'd kept things separate. Maybe she wouldn't have to face nothing but emotional and physical abuse everyday.

"I swear to God!" Penny Anderson preached at the lunch table, loud and angry, "If one of those white trash girls looks over at me one more time!" Her threat was heard around the world, but thankfully the girls, who her vicious glare was aimed at, only laughed from their table across the cafeteria. A couple of eyes glanced over at where she was seething in her seat. Patricia nervously lowered her head and placed her hand on her best friend's shoulder.

"Penny, please," she pleaded, using the soothing southern twang of her voice, "I got class with them girls. They gon' give me hell next time I see 'em." Penny rolled her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Why you so damn scared, Patty?" she asked her friend, smacking her full lips as she tossed a piece of bread into her mouth, "My mama said them white folk ain't nothin' but trash talkers. If I had a chance to tear one of their asses up-"

"You'd be dead the next day," Edward Chamberland chimed in from his seat across the table, "And Penny, ya too damn beautiful to die." He winked and Penny rolled her eyes. It was true though, Penny was beautiful. She was about 5'7 with dark chocolate skin and brown eyes. She looked smooth and soft and Edward had been in love with her since third grade. Despite the fact that he was beautiful as well, with light brown skin and dark brown eyes, Penny remained unimpressed.

"Stop with your tired lines, old man," she teased. Everybody laughed. Ed was the oldest of the gang. He was almost twenty, but it was the beginning of senior year and university was next for him. He had big dreams of New York and Broadway. Bigger dreams than Patricia. She only dreamed of going to any university. She'd never be able to afford to. Nobody could help her. Even her mother's blood, sweat, and tears hard work couldn't help pay for it.

"Hey, Patty," Tracy Macker called out from her spot next to Ed, "Them white folk you working for hirin'?" Patricia raised a brow at Tracy.

"Trace, it's work," she explained, "You have to clean and stuff." The table snickered and Tracy scoffed.

"Like I can't clean," she fumed, "I clean all the time. Just 'cause I don't look like a maid, it doesn't mean I don't get work done." Edward snorted and so did Penny. Tracy was the girliest female on the entire planet. Not a hair out of place and not a thread missing from her pressed clothes. She was a 5'8 beauty queen with her high yellow skin and curly, sandy brown hair. Her eyes were even a light brown that Patricia envied. She wore her church shoes to school and switched into heels once she reached the yard. She was sexy to everybody and fast according to the negro swim team. Even the white boys looked at her sometimes.

"She's right though," Dennis Roland cut in, "She cleans all the time. She cleans her hair, her nails-"

"Shut up!" Tracy exclaimed, slapping his arm multiple times as the table howled with laughter. Their loud cackles blended in with the noise of the cafeteria and Patty giggled at her friends antics as Tracy continued to beat up on Dennis. She was too busy to notice a young man with bright blue eyes glancing over at her every once in a while, trying to catch her eye.

"Man, whatcha starin' at them niggers for?" Peter Green asked his blue eyed friend as he followed his wandering eyes towards the colored section of the cafeteria. It wasn't called the color section anymore, but everybody made it a point to stay separate regardless.

"Relax, Green," Justin Timberlake smiled and it was calming to anybody who stared directly at it. Peter relaxed his scowl, but glanced between the colored folks and his friend, trying to understand. "That's the girl that works for my family now." He nodded towards Patty and Peter wrinkled his nose.

"She's got the nappiest hair over there," he laughed, causing the rest of the guys to snicker and nod in agreement, "But that yellow one... She's half. It won't be too bad if I get her alone." The guys grunted in agreement, giving Peter high fives. Everybody but Justin. He frowned instead, secretly hating the way they saw things. So narrowminded and mean. He was glad to not think that way.

"She just ain't mixed, man," Justin defended weakly, "All their hair looks like that when they're colored. 'Cept for that yellow one, but she's half, so she don't count."

"Whatcha so mad for?" Michael Tap asked his friend with a distasteful grimace across his chisled face. He was the biggest of the boys. A quarterback and a giant. Justin wasn't the least bit intimated by his size, but his question made him uneasy. Maybe it was because he didn't know why he was so mad or maybe it was because all of the boys at his lunch table were staring at him with suspicion and curiousity.

"I ain't mad," he argued, picking at his creamed corn, wondering why he allowed the lunch lady to put it on his tray, "I was just sayin'..." His excuse was lame, but nobody called him on it. Pete did glance one last time between him and the colored table before shaking his head. Justin stole a glance at Patty one last time before finishing off his ham sandwich and continuing on with the conversation Tyler Stevenson started.

He wasn't really paying that much attention though, despite the hype over the upcoming football game. All he could think about was Patty and how badly he wanted to wave and say hello. She was completely off limits in public. Even at home he found it difficult to speak to her. His family was as narrowminded as the rest of his small Tennessee town. His mother would always be wandering around the house, sticking her nose in his business. With his father constantly locked away in his office at home or in the city, she had nothing else to do. He still couldn't figure out why they hired Patty three weeks ago to clean and cook. His mother was perfectly capable of doing it with all her free time. Then again, his mother couldn't boil water if it were in a pot on the stove. He smiled to himself at his own joke and glanced over at Patty's table one last time. She was getting up and he grew excited when she looked up and they caught eyes. He smirked a little and she looked at him with wide, confused eyes before looking away and gathering her books.

Great, now he looked like freak, staring at her and smiling all small and creepy. He snapped his eyes back to his table and fell back into the conversation.

Patty was slinging her bookbag over her shoulder and adjusting her skirt when she peeked up at Justin to see if he were still smiling. Of couse he wasn't. He shouldn't have smiled in the first place. She glanced at all her friends and they were too busy joking around to notice the chaos going through her mind. The last thing she wanted was for them to see a white boy smiling at her. The thought of what they'd say made her whole body recoil. Didn't he feel the same way about his friends though? Her eyes scanned his table and everybody looked calm and not upset.

"Patty, girl, do I have to smack ya to get your attention?" Penny griped and when Patty faced her, her hands were placed on her hips. "What are you starin' at?"

"Nothin'," Patty quickly answered, "I ain't starin' at a thing."

"Well then, c'mon and get, girl! We got to get to class." Lunch wasn't even over yet, but the entire table was getting up to go now. The hallway was always the worst. The whites and blacks passed one another and all hell broke loose. They didn't want to be caught in the daily crossfire, so they decided that losing ten minutes of lunch was worth avoiding all the drama. Besides, they could walk at a languid pace and chit chat quietly. It was a peaceful walk, something that Patty wished wasn't so rare.

"You workin' today?" Penny asked Patty, now that they were alone. The others had departed along the way and only Penny and Patty were left. Both of their classes were at the west wing of school.

"Yep," Patty sighed, "I'm workin' all this week, Penny. Just like last. The money's helpin' mama a lil', but it ain't easy..." Penny nodded and frowned, feeling sorry for her friend.

"Well, I was going to go over to Andrea's, but I guess I won't now," she sighed, "I best get some work done anyway. Mr. Gross is havin' that dang'on music test on Friday." Patty laughed when Penny rolled her big brown eyes and smacked her lips. "I can't wait to get up outta here! Graduation ain't but a couple months away and I'm going up North and away from this place." Penny raised her hand to God, "Thank ya, Jesus!" Penny's smile fell from her face when she looked down at Patty who was frowning and walking quietly beside her as they trailed up the hall.

"Well, that's nice for you," Patty said after a moment, "I guess you'll come back and visit... Maybe Uncle John will give me a ride up there next time he goes to New York... I'd like to see that city anyway. 'Heard there were buildings and cars that were twice as big as the ones down here."

"Oh, Patty," Penny frowned, "I wish I could pay for us both, girl. Ya know I would!" Patty nodded and smiled at Penny.

"Girl, please, you're barely makin' it on ya own... I ain't gettin' there this year, but maybe next. Them Timberlake's payin' me good anyway... Couple dollars saved up just for me already." They reached their destination at the west wing of school. Penny's class was a door away from Patty's. The clock on the wall warned them that they had just thirty-three seconds before all hell burst loose. Penny rolled her eyes and hugged her friend.

"See ya after class, right?" she asked. Patty nodded as Penny walked down the hall.

"I'll see ya in an hour."

-------------------------

Patty and Penny walked halfway home together. Penny walked down her regular street and Patty walked towards the tracks. She skipped over the metal and wood before cutting through a hole in the fence that lined the tracks. It was the quickest route across town and Patty had no time to waste. Mrs. Timberlake hated it when she was late. She didn't want to have to mumble a thousand apologize to the woman with curly blonde hair. She just wanted to work and leave.

She kicked a pebble about six blocks up Ellis Road before she turned the corner and jogged up the stairs of the second house on the right. Carlise Street was lined with huge single homes with massive yards and dogs. Shiny Ford cars with curved corners parked against the sidewalk. It was gorgeous, especially in the spring. Patty secretly wished this were her house with the large oak door and wrap around porch, all white and prestine. She marveled at porch swing she always wanted to sit on and just watch the street just because there was another beautiful house right across from it to stare at.

"Hey!" A cheerful voice called from behind Patty as she jumped and gasped, placing her small hand over her heart. "I didn't mean to scare ya." Patty didn't speak as Justin crept up his front steps and walked over to stand in front of her. He kept a respectful distance, but Patty still backed up. White people never stood that close to her. Even Justin's mother yelled from across the room like she was diseased.

"Hello, Mr. Timberlake," she greeted with her head tipped downward, staring at the chemistry book held in his right hand. His hands were big enough to hold up that big textbook and Patty felt a little weak as she hugged her books to her chest. "I was just about to knock."

"I told ya to call me Justin," he complained, reaching out for her suddenly. Patty jerked back and he laughed, "I was just gonna take your books. They look a little too heavy for you."

"I got it," she said, somewhat offended, "They ain't too heavy for me."

"Oh..." Justin mumbled dumbly, playing with a button on his striped shirt, "Well, I ain't mean no disrespect. I was just taught to help a lady with her books if they got too heavy for her..." Patty felt a weird knot in her stomach. Nobody had ever called her a lady before. She felt grown up. She was seventeen years old and a lady. She almost giggled.

"Well, thank you, but it's not heavy, Mr. Timberlake." She held her books tighter.

"Justin," he corrected, pulling the keys to his house out of his khaki pants pocket.

"I can't call you by your first name," Patty said.

"Why not?" Justin asked, finally finding the door key, "I call you Patricia."

"Well... you don't work for me," she said, "But I work for you. Mama always told me to be mindful of that."

"First off, Miss. Hurley," he said, unlocking the door with a small smirk, "You work for my parents and not me. Secondly, I told you to call me Justin. If you 'work' for me, you have to do what I say, right?"

"I guess..." Patty mumbled as he stepped to the side and gestured for her to walk through the open door first. She mumbled a thank you and slid past him into the house.

"Well then I guess I won that one, huh?" Justin joked proudly. Justin's keys jingled loudly when he tossed them in the glass bowl sitting on the coffee table. Patty still wasn't used to the massive space of their cream-colored living room. There were artworks on the walls and a fireplace with pictures of family on it. Justin always rolled his eyes at his baby pictures, front row and center.

The large brown couches that helped fill the space were genuine leather and the large television across from them was a lighter brown. It was the biggest television Patty had ever seen. She knew how well off the Timberlakes were. Her mother had told her before she started working here three weeks ago. But her mother also said they were all nice, except for Mrs. Timberlake. She was always a little mean, but the men of the house surprisingly weren't.

Just to prove that kindness further, when Patty's mother fell ill about a month ago, they allowed Patty to work in her place until she got better. And work was all Patty did. She barely got sleep trying to catch up on homework, but she didn't mind. Her mother's medicines were the cheapest brand and it was still too much. They couldn't afford to see the doctor as much as they should. It pained Patty to hear her mother's hacking cough and see her drenched in sweat from time to time. She didn't want to know what would happen if those pills didn't start working. Patty wasn't saving for college, like she had said earlier, she was saving for her mother's medical needs. She would afford her the best doctor in the state if she kept working.

"Well, damn, Patty. Am I that borin'?" Justin joked, pulling Patricia from her thoughts. She shook her head, adamantly denying his question.

"No, no," she said, "I'm sorry. I was just thinkin' 'bout stuff..."

"Oh..." Justin said softly, catching on quickly, "How is your mama doin'?" Patty looked him in the eyes and saw he was genuinely concerned. Her mother was his nanny. Taught him how to dress and was there to watch him take his first steps. Him and Patty sort of grew up together, but at a distance.

"She's the same," Patty sighed, "I'm savin' up though, so we can get her a real good doctor. Them cheap pills we gettin' ain't doin' much."

"You know what?" Justin said, digging through his pockets, "Here. I don't need that much money this week. The boys are all going to the game. I don't think we'll be doing much else." Patricia couldn't believe her eyes as he held out a twenty dollar bill. He must've been crazy.

"Oh no, I ain't takin' that," Patty denied, backing up. Justin stepped forward, boldly taking hold of her hand. Patty shivered when his white skinned warmed her brown skin, engulfing her small hand completely in his big one.

"Patty, please," Justin pleaded, "Your mama was more of a mother to me than anybody. Besides, I couldn't bare to see ya all sad if somethin' happen'd to her..."

"Oh...I...umm..." Patty was staring at him and he was staring at her. There was a strange energy that she couldn't really explain, or maybe she just didn't want to.

"What on earth is goin' on here?!" The shriek of Justin's mother's voice made them both jump. Patty dropped the money and scurried away from Justin. She looked at his mother, regrettably so, as she scowled so disgustedly at her. Patty bowed her head.

"Mama, Patty's mama is sick and I was just tryna help a little..."

"By giving away your father's money?" she asked as Justin bent down to retrieve the fallen bill.

"If I put it in the church basket, would you have complained?" he asked rudely. Patty snapped her head in his direction, shocked. She'd never speak to her own mother that way, but she'd be damned if she said anything like that to Mrs. Timberlake. Justin didn't seem the least bit afraid.

"We pay her good as is, she don't need no more favors," Mrs. Timberlake growled, "If you don't know what to do with your money, give it to me."

"I know exactly what to do with it," Justin said, walking towards Patty. Patricia's eyes grew wide when he took her hand again, right in front of his mother and smiled at her.

"Justin..." Patty whispered, her eyes dancing wildly between him and his mother.

"Shush now," he chuckled, "Take this and buy your mama some good medicine. Let me know if it works." He placed the money in her shaking hand and curled her fingers over it. He offered her one last smirk before turning towards his mother.

"You must be out of your mind," his mother seethed, her chest was heaving.

"No, mama, I'm just helping her out a little. I'm sure Daddy won't mind. Like you said, it's his money, not yours." Patty looked down at her shoes to keep from panicking. She wanted him to shut up. Mrs. Timberlake was furious and that was never a good thing.

"Get out of my sight," his mother spat and Justin turned back to Patricia.

"I'll see ya later, Patty." Patricia nodded meekly as he swayed out of the room smoothly. Then she waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps.

"Mrs.Timberlake, I swear I didn't-" Patty began to rant as she looked at his approaching mother. Her petite figure seemed ten times bigger in all her fury.

"Shut your mouth, nigger!" she exclaimed and Patty zipped her lips accordingly. She felt so angry she was about to cry. That word hurt every time she heard it or saw it. She longed to say something just as hurtful back, but she didn't have enough hate in her to do it.

Mrs.Timberlake stretched out her hand and Patricia flinched, in fear of getting struck. Mrs. Timberlake laughed. "You foolish child, give me the money, not your face." Patricia shook as she handed Justin's mother the twenty dollars she needed. Mrs. Timberlake held it up and examined it.

And then she ripped it apart.

Patricia stood and watched in horror as Mrs. Timberlake tore the money into pieces too small to glue back together, turning it into confetti with her hands until there was none left. "Now sweep this mess up," she said, turning her back to Patricia and gliding out of the room. Patricia stared at that torn up money, now just meaningless shreads of paper, and her eyes welled up with tears.

"Dang it!" Justin exclaimed, slamming his fist on the kitchen counter, perched on a wooden stool facing Patricia. She snorted a laugh as she glanced over her shoulder at him while stirring the pot of stew simmering in front of her.

"What's the matter?" she asked, smiling and shaking her head as he dramatically ran his hands over his face. Then he threw his arms up in the air to show his agony, nearly popping the suspenders holding up his pants and throwing himself out of his seat in the process. Patricia giggled when he gasped in fear and caught himself by griping the counter for balance.

"You don't get to laugh at me," Justin jokingly scolded, smiling at her as she turned back to the stew, "This book is just so damn borin'. I can't read anymore."

"What book is it?" Patricia asked, adding a dash of salt to the pot. She loved to read and write. English was her specialty. Books were the only things she had to escape the horrible world she lived in. She read to her mother, who was poorly educated, but enjoyed literature. She just didn't know all the words and what they meant sometimes. But Patty didn't mind reading to her mama, especially after church when they went over Bible verses and discussed them. It was just mama, Patty, and her little brother Earl. He was sixteen years old and didn't have the patience to enjoy reading. He was much too into basketball and such. As long as he was happy, Patty didn't get on him too much. She knew that he would have a lot to deal with soon, especially as he grows into a man. She would allow him his childhood for as long as it would last.

"It's Romeo and Juliet," Justin all but whined, "I thought people died in this."

"Maybe if you'd get past the first page, they would," Patricia chuckled, her white teeth clashing against her brown skin in the most beautiful way. Justin looked over her face when she glanced over her shoulder at his non-responsive figure. She was smiling still, but it was turning bashful beneath his stare. "Shakespeare's wonderful. You shouldn't be the least bit bored..." Patty said, trying to break his unyielding gaze.

"Well, if you like him so much, then you can read this crap," Justin grumbled, sighing deeply as he shifted his gaze to the book in front of him, putting Patty at ease.

"I have," Patricia said, putting down the wooden spoon she had been stirring with to count off on her fingers, "I've also read Hamlet, A Midsummer's Night Dream, Othello, MacBeth, Love's Labour Lost, Antony and Cleopatra..." She trailed off when she turned to face Justin, who looked pained.

"What awful teacher put you through that?" Justin asked, his face turning completely sour. Patricia bit her bottom lip and shrugged, going back to the dinner she was making for the family. She was suddenly embarrassed at herself. How impressed did she really think he’d be after knowing how many books she read? Not impressed at all is what he'll be. Patty could slap herself, not that she actually cared about what he thought...At least not that much anyway.

"Well...no teacher, really..." she stammered, "I just...like Shakespeare."

"Oh," Justin laughed lightly, "You're a bookworm."

"I am not," Patricia weakly argued, lowering the the heat beneath the pot, "There's nothing wrong with liking books."

"I didn't say there was," Justin said, standing from his seat. He glided smoothly toward Patricia's turned back. The apron she wore was tied with the cutest bow resting at the small of her back. "But you're still a bookworm..." Justin could see her body tense up when he stopped and stood behind her. He was close enough to brush that bow with his fingertips. He wondered what she'd do if he did.

"And if I remember correctly, Mr. Timberlake, you're the science geek," she said softly, not moving an inch from where she froze at the stove. Justin's eyes traveled up her back and looked over the golden brown of her neck, which led to her hair, braided up in the most beautiful pattern of woven design. He wanted to reach out and touch it, to know what it felt like. He didn't care what Peter Green thought. Patricia had beautiful hair. It was thick and long and he felt like he could spend hours watching her braid it.

"Mr. Timberlake is my father," Justin said softly. "I want you to call me Justin."

"Fine," Patricia said just as soft, "Justin then..." She still didn't move. Justin however was leaning in just a bit to catch her whiff of her hair. He got close enough to smell a mixture of honey, menthol, and her own girly scent. It was completely enthralling. He found himself closing his eyes and finding peace in her scent... but then there was the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

Justin leapt away from Patricia, who suddenly became alive again, opening up the oven to check on the chicken.

"Son," Randall Timberlake greeted as he appeared in the kitchen. He wore a white button up and brown suspenders held up his tan pants. A brown blazer jacket was hung over his arm. He looked like an older Justin. His eyes were blue, although they weren't as striking as Justin's. He was six feet tall, just an inch or so shorter than his son. He was trim and had smoothed back brown hair that made him look like the businessman he was.

Patty could remember times where him and Justin argued over that hair. Justin preferred a cropped, short head of curls. His father preferred a straight, slick back look. They finally agreed that for holidays and special occassions Justin's hair would be smoothed back and the rest of the year would be cropped. Patty didn't see the problem with either style. Justin was handsome either way, just like his father. It was clear where Justin got his charm as well. Mr. Timberlake was kind, but kept his authority with Patricia and her mother. Unlike Mrs. Timberlake, Patty actually liked Mr. Timberlake and often wondered how he could love a woman so cruel.

"Hey, Daddy," Justin greeted, stuffing his hands in pockets. Mr. Timberlake gave a careful glance between his son and his young employee. Justin whistled a little as he sat back at his spot on the stool, flipping through the pages of his book aimlessly.

"Patricia," Mr. Timberlake said as she turned and faced him where he stood at the kitchen door. She bowed her head a little and smiled, shy and sweet.

"Hello, Sir," she said timidly, "Would you like me to take your jacket?" she asked.

"Oh, that's quite all right," he assured with a throaty southern twang, "I was just seeing what that delicious aroma was." Patricia felt her cheeks warm at his compliment.

"Oh, well I'm just roasting some chicken," she told him, gesturing toward the stove, "And I thought I'd make some of that stew you like. I got some rice cooking on the side too."

"You certainly take after your mother," Mr. Timberlake said, taking a deep breath, "How's she coming along anyway?" Patricia's mood had dampered a bit.

"Oh...well, you know... Not much has changed," she sighed, "Pastor comes and see her every other day now... She always seems a bit better after that."

Justin frowned. "That medicine you got her ain't workin'?" he asked. Patricia froze when Justin's mother came silently into the room. She gave Patricia a warning glance before reaching her husband's side.

"Sweetheart, I didn't even hear you come in," she said kindly to him and Patricia wondered if Mr. Timberlake knew how evil his wife was. Surely she couldn't hide such a spiteful demeanor for too long.

"Patricia?" Justin called, snapping her out of her daze.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"Don't worry about that," Justin brushed off quickly, "Aren't the medicines working?" Patricia turned back to the stove as she shrugged. She was always bad at lying and had hoped that since Justin hadn't mentioned the money or medicine for nearly two weeks now that he'd forgotten.

"I umm... I dunno," Patricia stammered, taking the chicken from the stove, "I...I haven't gotten it yet."

"Well why not?" Justin asked, "I thought you'd go runnin' for it."

Patricia certainly would have if she had the money to run with. "I haven't had much time," she explained, "I got so much school work to catch up on."

"Well, your mama is worth a homework assignment, ain't she?" Justin asked, disappointed in her nonchalant attitude. Patricia grew rigid, angry that he doubted her caring for her mother.

"I know what my mama's worth. I don't need you tellin' me." Patricia snapped. Justin gut tightened at her voice, never once being spoken to in that manner by Patricia.

"You better watch your tone -" Mrs. Timberlake started.

"Now, now," Mr. Timberlake interrupted as Patricia took a deep breath and turned to face the family, "She's just upset about her mother, which is natural."

"She's got a tongue on her," Mrs. Timberlake grumbled, "She certainly didn't get that from her mother. Must've been that trashy father of hers." Patricia chest tightened with a pain that was as sharp. Only Mrs. Timberlake would be cruel enough to speak ill of the dead.

"Mama!" Justin scolded, "Leave her alone!" He shot up from his stool and slammed his book shut. "She ain't say a damn thing to ya!"

"Boy, watch your mouth when you're speaking to your mother," Mr. Timberlake warned, rubbing his wife's back in soothing circles.

"But -" Justin started.

"I don't want to hear any excuse outta you," he said calmly and firmly, "Your mother is still your mother, no matter what she says."

"She ain't gotta be so mean, Daddy," Justin argued, "Patty ain't mean no harm."

"That's exactly why she keeps on talkin' the way she does," Mrs.Timberlake said, glaring at Patricia's silent figure, "I don't know what you're doin' to make my son so soft for you," Patty's face was on fire at the mention of such a thing. Justin's fought for his composure, slightly embarassed and certainly angry. "But whatever it is, it's just gonna get you into more trouble, ya hear me?"

"She ain't doin' nothing," Justin denied, blushing furiously. "You just run outta things to say, so you make 'em up."

"And why on earth would I waste my time on that?" Mrs. Timberlake inquired.

"Ain't like you got much else to do," Justin criticized underneath his breath. Mrs. Timberlake gasped and turned to her husband.

"Do you see how your boy treats me?" she asked, "And for some nigger -"

"Mama!" Justin groaned in frustration, glancing over a very silent Patricia. She was too busy looking down at her feet to notice him, but her eyes were glazed with tears.

"Justin," Mr.Timberlake said calmly, "Be respectful to your mother. We don't yell in this house. It only makes you look guilty."

"Listen to your father," Mrs.Timberlake said obediently standing her husband's side.

"Look, I-I'm s-sorry," Patricia broke in meekly. Everybody stopped to look at her. "Don't get angry with each other. Mrs. Timberlake... you're right. I was being disrespectful. I apologize, Justin."

"I don't need you apologizin' when you ain't done nothin' wrong," he assured, "I'm sorry for botherin' you 'bout your mama. It's your business."

"You were just being nice," Patricia said softly, "I shouldn't've raised my voice."

"Good to see you have some sense regarding that," Mrs. Timberlake chimed in. Justin narrowed his eyes in her direction.

"The kids were handling it just fine, Honey. No need to intrude," Mr. Timberlake cooed gently, calming his wife with a gentle back rub, "Now, lets leave Miss. Hurley to tend to the kitchen. The quicker she's finished, the faster we can eat." Justin rolled his eyes as his mother nodded like a faithful retriever. "Justin, grab your things. You can study in your bedroom."

"But Patricia's helping me," Justin lied, "She's telling all about Shakespeare." Patricia glanced at Justin and then at his father who was looking at her with a small smirk.

"Is that right, Patricia?" he asked, a bit teasing. Patricia nodded slowly.

"Yes, sir," she said, "Justin can't get past two pages." Mr. Timberlake chuckled.

"Well, if you can get my boy to appreciate some Shakespeare, I can't keep it from happening," he smiled, "You two carry on then." Mrs. Timberlake shot Patricia an awful glare before hooking her arm through her husband's, chattering away as they exited the kitchen.

Justin and Patricia both let out breaths they didn't know they had been holding. This caused them both to laugh.

"I am really sorry," Patricia apologized more seriously, "I really shouldn't have yelled."

"It's okay, really," Justin assured, "But really... If you can't find time to get the medicine, I'll get it for ya. I'm sure it'll take just a second." Patricia quickly looked away from him, turning to stir the stew.

"Justin, I'll get it tomorrow," she said, "I was planning on it. Mama's fine so far. It didn't feel like rushin' to get it."

"Well, I'll give ya this now then," he said softly, pushing from his stool and standing. Patricia turned slowly to watch as dug through his pockets. She rolled her eyes when he pulled out money, turning her back to him to shut the fire beneath the rice.

"Justin, I ain't takin' no more money from ya," she defiantly stated, mentally putting her foot down.

"It's not for you," Justin cooed, hesistanting behind her. He wasn't as close as before, but he reached out, his fingertips light grazed her arm. Patricia almost jumped out of her skin when electricity shot through her. She jumped and gasped, burned her hand against the stew pot when she tried to catch her balance. She hissed and jerked back, bumping into a confused Justin. She jumped away when her back collided with his chest momentarily.

"Are you okay?" Justin asked, panicked as she shook her hand like she was fanning it down. He put two and two together and grabbed her good hand. Patricia was dragged to the sink against her will and Justin ran the cold water. He took the wrist of her bad hand and guided her heated palm beneath the soft flow of cool liquid.

Patricia's hand was cooling down rapidly, an uncomfortable searing feeling on her skin. Justin was too busy cooing things like 'you'll be fine' and 'it's okay, it's okay' to notice that she wasn't trembling from the burning. She had burned herself before, but this... This was new. Justin had somehow nudge himself slightly in front of Patricia, holding her hand with both of his, caging her arm between his as he rested against the edge of the sink. Patricia was forced to brush against his upper arm and her free arm hung awkwardly at her side, trying to avoid touching him further. She made the mistake of trying to move it and grazed his ribs gently. His hands on hers tensed a bit.

Justin had noticed they were close. He didn't mean it, but he was aware. His heart was pounding like he had ran for a mile straight. He could feel the soft cushion of her breasts against the back of his arm, her chest moving at a rapid pace. Her breathing was felt like it was right by his ear and he was swallowing dryly to try and calm himself.

But her hands were so soft in his palms. Her nails were rounded and delicate like the rest of her. Their skin contrasted completely, brown and peach, but he liked it. He liked that she was different.

"I-" Patricia started and Justin jumped at the sound of her voice so close to him. "I feel fine now..." Patricia said softer, noticing that she startled him with her normal voice. She watched him nod as he reached to turn off the water. She had to subtly slide her hand away when he didn't immediately release her. The moment she was free, Patricia tore herself away, her stomach overpowered by this loss of contact. It startled her when she felt colder.

"I'm sorry," Justin said, rolling his eyes to himself when he felt the blood rush up to his cheeks. He was glad his back was still to her as he stared down into the sink. "I shouldn't have snuck up on you."

"I just..." Patricia rolled her eyes to herself, wondering where her words had gone, "I mean... I knew you was comin', but I didn't..."

"I know," Justin tried to ease the awkwardness.

"Okay," Patricia said simply, drying her hand against her apron, wincing when it stung a little. "I best get back to dinner. I'm sure ya hungry..."

"Starved," Justin said, chuckling as he slowly stood straight and faced her. They held eyes for a moment, but Patricia looked away. He continued to stare at the side of her face for a moment, marveled at the smoothness, before clearing his throat. "I'mma go wash up or somethin'..."

"Mm'kay," Patricia mumbled, stiffening when he walked around her quickly to grab his book from the counter. He scurried out of the kitchen without another word. Patricia heard him mumbling to himself, but she paid him no mind, shaking her head at the knots in her gut.

Patricia was in a sour mood. She didn't want to work today. All she wanted to do was crawl into her mental hole and fall away from the world around her. Not only was she late to chemistry and not permitted to go to class (making her 'absent' and possibly truant) but when she took her seat in Honors English, she had spit balls shot all over her as kids laughed when she tear up. Then the teacher sent her to the principle's office for 'disturbing the class'. She had to serve detention right after school, which made her late for work. She ran halfway to save time, but was exhausted after tripping and falling on the tracks and ripping her skirt against the edges of the fence hole she crossed through.

She was hot, late, in pain, and angry. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Hey!" Patricia whipped her head around at the sound of the voice. It was a familiar voice. The voice of Justin Timberlake. Her thoughts were confirmed as he came jogging up the road to meet her at the corner of his block with a wide grin. His baby blue button up was tucked neatly into his pressed tan khakis, but the top by the collar was unbuttoning, revealing his white undershirt. Patricia shyly looked away when he approached her, a little out of breath with flushed cheeks.

"Hey," she said to her shiny school shoes. Justin smile flattered.

"You okay?" Justin asked, looking over her disheveled appearance.

"Just peachy," she sighed sarcastically. She looked up to see Justin raise a brow.

"You look like you had a bad day," he prodded, "And your skirt's all ripped up."

"That was the fence up by the tracks," Patricia said, gesturing behind her, "I cut through to get here faster."

"Is that why you're upset?" he asked gently. Patricia shrugged.

"Maybe," Patricia said, "But honestly, I'm fine, Justin."

"Wow, I didn't have to correct you," he joked. Patricia glanced down to catch the white of his teeth behind his pink lips. She moved her eyes up to meet his, but regretted it. They were so blue with the sparkle of the sunny day in them. They always looked better when he wore blue for some reason. Patricia always noticed that.

"I think I'll get used to calling you Justin soon enough," she smirked, "I dunno if your mama likes it though." Justin waved her off, rolling his eyes.

"My mama doesn't like much of anything," he sighed, "I swear, I love her, but sometimes I just wanna kick her or somethin'."

"Justin!" Patricia scolded, but giggled a bit at the thought. Justin let out a chuckle.

"What?" he smiled, "You probably want to kick her more than anybody."

"No, I don't believe in hittin' elders," Patricia smiled, "Besides, anger just makes you sick. Your mama hates me, but I plan on just killin' her with kindness. That's what mama says works best. Love always overcomes the hate." Justin looked over her face, taking in the glow of the sun against her brown tone. It almost looked like she was shimmering with a thin layer of gold. Justin wondered if she used fancy soaps like those other girls, but he doubted it. Patricia didn't have the money to spend on things like that. Her glow was au natural and it only made him in awe more.

"How is your mama anyway?" Justin asked when Patty looked away shyly during his intense gazing. Patricia shrugged, getting uncomfortable with the topic. She began to walk towards his home. Justin followed suit.

"She's all right, I guess," Patricia sighed, "Not much has changed."

"Not even with the medicine?" Justin asked and Patricia sighed, shaking her head. She still couldn't get the medicine. She had to wait to get paid at the end of the week to scrounge up enough money. She was wiped out by the gas bill and used what little bit of college fund money she had for her brother's uniform and a pair of new boots he needed.

"No," Patricia lied, "Medicine's not helping."

"That just doesn't make any sense," Justin agonized, "Maybe she needs a stronger kind?" Patricia shrugged, staring right ahead so she wouldn't have to look him in the eyes.

"Maybe," Patricia said softly as she finally reached his home. They walked up the stairs in sync. Justin brushed past her to get to the door and unlock it.

"Maybe I'll get my dad to call Dr. Goldberg and see if -" he began.

"No!" Patricia panicked, causing Justin to pause his movements to stare at her strangely, "I mean, don't go through all that trouble. Your daddy has enough work to do. My mama ain't his concern."

"Patty, please," Justin pleaded, his eyes softening against hers. She felt her knees buck. "Your mama means something to our family. And she certainly means a lot to yours. My dad has a lot of connections in and out of this town. If I ask him, he'll be more than happy to help out. I don't want anything bad to happen if we wait too long, ya know?" Patty knew all right. She knew her mother's cough was getting worse and worse and that she barely got any sleep because she spent most of the night by her bed praying over and over again.

"I don't want any charity," she stubbornly denied, trying to contain her emotions, but her voice wavered. "I'm handlin' this the best way I know how."

"I know that," Justin assured, reaching out to touch her, but deciding against it. He played with the keys in his hands instead. "But you're dealing with a lot. You're as young as me and I can't imagine doin' what you're doin'. I just wanna help."

"Why do you care so much?" Patty asked, shrugging a bit. She hugged her schoolbooks to her chest. "I mean... I don't get it."

"I just want to help," Justin said softly. His cheeks were reddening more and more with each passing second.

"But..." Patty didn't know how to say what she was trying to say, but she couldn't understand him. He said hi to her in public and gave her money for her mom. He defended her against his own mother... He touched her at the sink and didn't act like she was diseased. Half the white people in her class wouldn't even sit next to her and anyone that did would ignore her existence or throw things at her. He treated her like she was...normal. Like she was almost a white girl and not some embarrassing black housemaid he was forced to be around. If her race wasn't enough, the difference in their financial class was certainly supposed to put a dent in his impression of her.

"Patricia, you're a good person and I see that," Justin said gently, "And I...like...good people." He turned back to the door and mumbled something she couldn't make out before opening the door. He stood to the side and gestured for Patricia to pass through first. She bowed her head in thanks and made her way inside. She didn't deny herself a whiff of his cologne as she moved past him. He always smelled so good, even after running around school all day.

"There's a lot of good people in the world," Patricia said, smirking a little, "I guess I do deserve some kind of prize for getting you through Shakespeare."

"Hey!" Justin complained, "I was a little unsure in the beginning, but I got through it real well. Even got a B plus on my paper this mornin'." He was beaming and Patricia clapped for him as he bowed.

"Well, go 'head, boy!" she giggled, "Who woulda thought you'd get through it after all that cryin'. I almost drowned in ya tears." Justin laughed before gasping a little in realization.

"I almost forgot," he said, smiling brightly at Patricia, "Wait here a minute." He dashed off before she could even argue and Patricia walked over to the lamp table and tucked her schoolbooks underneath it. She was about to agonize over the twenty pounds of math she had to do when Justin's shoe's skidded to a stop inside the living room. She stood and he walked over to her, holding a pair of white tickets in his hands.

"What are those?" Patricia asked, curious.

"These are tickets to 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'," Justin said smugly, "Pretty good seats too. Right by the stage."

"That's amazin'," Patricia said in awe. "I'm so jealous."

"No need to be," he told her sweetly, "They're for you." Patricia held her breath for a second before shaking her head.

"Oh no, Justin," she denied, "I can't do that..."

"Why not?" he asked, "I paid good money for these, so you have to go. It's Saturday night at Merriam Theatre." Patricia squealed despite herself.

"Oh my, that's the most beautiful theaters ever!" she gushed, "People from all over go there."

"That's what I hear," Justin smiled brightly, "So, you'll go?"

"Of course! I mean, you got 'em already and there's no sense in wastin' 'em," Patricia beamed, "Oh, Penny's gonna be so excited! We'll wear our church dresses and -"

"Wait," Justin interrupted her rambling and she looked up into his confused eyes, "Penny?"

"Well, she's my best friend," Patricia explained, "I'm sure you've seen her 'round. She's always at my hip."

"No, I know her," Justin said, sighing a bit, "But I don't think you're understandin' me here."

"What?" Patricia asked dumbly, confused by the darkening redness in Justin's cheeks again.

"Patricia..." he trailed off a bit, trying to collect his thoughts, "These tickets are for you...and me." Patricia tried to register what he was saying, but it didn't make any sense.

"Wait," Patricia said, taking the tickets from his hands. Seats six and seven were assigned on the back. If these were for them, they would have to sit next to one another. In public.

Justin saw the look on Patricia's face. It looked pained, confused, and slightly disappointed. He was mentally kicking himself within in a second. "Ya know what? Forget it. I don't like Shakespeare anyway. Call up Penny and let her know. Y'all can get all girl-ed up and whatnot..." He was trying to smile, but it kept falling. He felt himself getting emotional over the rejection and started backing away. Patricia reached out and grabbed his hand before he could escape.

"Wait a minute," Patricia said, placing her hand back to her side. The electricity of his skin on hers was distracting. "It's not that I don't wanna go with you... In fact, I think it would be pretty funny to watch you dose off several times before they even dim the lights..." She smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but Justin's weak smirk was all she got in return.

"It's okay, Patty," he assured, sounding exactly the opposite of okay, "I just thought it would be fun, but it makes more sense to go with your friend."

"But you're my friend too?" Patricia said, but she didn't sound as confident as she wanted to.

"Am I?" Justin asked, but Patricia just shrugged. His tone was too hard to decipher. She didn't know if the idea upset him or not.

"I would like to be your friend," she tried again, "I've known ya almost all my life and I still don't know ya as well as I should."

"Well, that might have somethin' to do with us always being shy around each other," Justin said, getting red again, "It's hard to talk to you."

"Sorry..." Patricia mumbled.

"Not your fault," Justin assured, "You can be real quiet. I dunno if I'm botherin' you or if you're bein' nice and lettin' me talk to ya..."

"I like talkin' to ya and I like the idea of goin' to this play, but Justin... together?" Patricia was so confused. Maybe he wasn't living in the same town as her in his mind, but going to something that public with somebody who looks nothing like you would surely stir some trouble.

"Why not?" he asked, "Things aren't like that anymore."

"On what planet?" Patricia scoffed, "Justin, just walkin' up your block is crazy. Don't you see the neighbors starin' out their windows, wonderin' why you're walkin' next to me?"

"No," he answered without hesistation, "I'm too busy starin' at you." Patricia swallowed down nervously when he refused to look away from her eyes, despite the cherry colored blotches on his cheeks. She shifted from foot to foot, letting the silence make the butterflies in her gut flutter even more.

"Well...ya shouldn't be," she said simply.

"Starin' or not noticin'?" he asked, amused that she could no longer look him in the face. He started to feel more in control and his cheeks weren't as red anymore.

"Both," she whispered, "Why are you bein' so weird? Ain't there enough white girls to stare at?" Justin shrugged.

"I guess not," he said simply, "I'm sorry, but I can't pay attention to ignorant folk. If I like spendin' time with ya, then that's what I like. Plain and simple."

"It's not plain and simple," Patty argued. "I guess it might be for you 'cause you're not the one runnin' from school grounds so nobody picks fights with ya. You're not the one checkin' for tacks on your seat or bein' kicked out of class for cryin' after havin' spit balls thrown at ya all afternoon while the teacher pretends to be blind to it until you start ballin'..." Patricia rambled and Justin's eyes widened in shock as he gently rubbed her shoulders. Patricia looked up because of the jolt of electric he caused.

"That happened today?" he asked in disbelief.

"That happens every day," Patricia sniffled, surprised that tears had fallen from her eyes. Justin's large palms left her shoulders to wipe her cheeks. She turned away, embarrassed by her sadness and the pained look in his eyes. She didn't want him pitying her.

"I'm so sorry..." he said softly, not knowing what else to do. "Do you know who it was?"

"Everybody in my classes," she sighed, shaking her head.

"There has to be a leader in the pack," Justin said, running his hand along her jaw to gently guide her to face him. She trembled beneath his touch and he smirked a little.

"I think his name is Shane," Patricia said, "He's the one who spit at me first."

"Shane Collins?" Justin asked, raising a questioning brow. Patricia nodded immediately.

"Yeah," she confirmed, "With the dark hair." Justin visualized him and locked it in his mind.

"I'll talk to him," he promised. Patricia adamantly shook her head.

"No!" she griped, "He ain't gonna listen to you no way. You'll make things worst. Everybody's gonna wanna know why you spoke to him for me and -"

"Calm down," Justin said smoothly, "I'll just tell him that his bullyin' is making you late for work and disrupting my household schedule."

"Justin -"

"Listen, I know him," Justin cooed, "All we need is a few minutes together and you'll be fine for the rest of the year - I promise." Patricia could see the certainty in his eyes, so she just nodded. Knowing Justin, he'd talk to Shane anyhow. She wasn't going to stop him once his mind was made.

"Fine," she relented. "Here. Take the tickets back. Some other girl can go with you."

"If I'm not watchin' it without you, there's no point," Justin said, "Take Penny. Have fun and tell me all about it so I can dose off here." They laughed, but Patricia still held out her hand.

"These seats are too good," she told him, "I can't sit where you would sit."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Justin asked. Patricia really wondered if he were from Tennessee at all.

"If I bought these tickets, they would be all the way in the far back corner with the rest of the colored people. No white ticket man is gonna give me front and center seats."

"It was first come first serve," Justin argued.

"Justin, trust me. Go to that play and see where you are and where I would've been. There's no labels on the seats, but there's an understanding." She placed the tickets in his palm and there was another spark. She wondered if he felt them too. "There're so many girls who'd die to go with ya. Just ask."

"I'm not much into dead chicks," Justin joked, sadly taking the tickets since it was clear she would not go. "I guess I'll ask around then."

"I'm really sorry," Patricia said.

"Not your fault," he assured again, "Thanks for helping me with my work anyway."

"No problem," Patricia assured, "But...I'd better get started on dinner." Justin nodded, stepping aside so she could make her way to the kitchen. He stared at the tickets in his hands. There were plenty of girls who'd love to go. Stacey Ambler has been following him around for months. He still owed Maryellen Compton a phone call and Jessica Stanley was on his waiting list as well. They were cheerleaders and pretty and white. Just what a footballer like himself should have on his arm, but none of them made him secretly love Shakespeare. None of them made him warm and tingly without taking their clothes off. None of them would give up a beautiful night at a play they love with a boy they at least considered a friend to satisfy the selfish, narrow minds of the ignorant town they lived in.

None of them were Patricia Hurley and with that, Justin tucked the tickets in his pockets and planned to give them to his parents as a random gift. He wouldn't spend his night out with a girl he didn't like when he could ask Patricia to help him study while his parents were gone. With any other girl, studying would've been a code word for fooling around, but Patricia Hurley was a force to be reckoned with when it came to academics. Justin would be doing well on his English exam on Monday thanks to her and he couldn't think of a better way to spend a Saturday night.

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Patricia fought the weight of her tired lids as she nodded off in class before jumping up in her seat when she realized she was losing consciousness. Her hands rubbed her eyelids in an effort to wake herself, but it turned into a soothing massage that had her falling forward in her seat. Just before her head could hit the desk, the loud smack of a ruler did. Patricia jumped back as her peers cackled. She was still in a daze when she met the scowl of Mrs. Anderson.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Hurley, but am I interruptin' your scheduled nap?" she growled sarcastically. Patricia involuntarily wrinkled her nose as the stale smell of her breath ran up her nose. She was too tired to be polite. She couldn't stop staring at the hairy mole on Mrs. Anderson's saggy old chin, a grayish-black on her pale white skin.

"I'm sorry," Patricia slurred.

"Are you drunk?" Mrs. Anderson accused and the class instigated accordingly with exaggerated gasps and 'oh's. Patricia felt a lump form in her throat. Drunk, no. Tired from working all week and dealing with her mother's illness, and getting her brother to school, fed, and washed every day while doing her school work and helping Justin with his... yes.

"No," she squeaked out, sounding guilty and embarrassed in her meekness.

"Ya know she lyin', Mrs. Anderson," Patrick Simmers laughed, tossing his head of light brown curls when he nodded in Patricia's direction, "Them niggers do nothin' but drink. Ain't that right, Miss. Hurley?" His name-calling had cut her deep and his mockery of her ever being considered a 'Miss' had cut her deeper. But, as usually, they both had gone unnoticed by Mrs. Anderson whose only acknowledgment of Patrick speaking was the quick roll of her eyes when the class chorused laughter.

Patricia shrunk into her seat. Wide-awake now and painfully anguished. She had no friends in Physics. There was only one black boy in the far left hand corner of the room who was too busy with his nose in the book for anyone to care for him. Patricia was always the target of ridicule. She wondered if she was cursed and why her attempts to remain unseen failed so miserably. Why couldn't see disappear in her corner desk like her peer? She envied his invisibility. Especially now. Especially when she felt so inhuman; like a beaten dog, whimpering in some dark street. Abused and insignificant.

The laughter only continued as Patrick Simmers badgered Patricia on about her drinking habits. He asked what kind of whiskey she liked and had her daddy thought her how to take shots like a man. The room was deafening as cackles bounced off the walls. Patricia's breathing was labored as she tried to will herself not to cry. She stared at the carefully sketched diagrams of planets she had drawn on the lined pages of her notebook. Her notes were sloppy toward the end where she was falling asleep, but she had written almost every word Mrs. Anderson said. She loved the planets and the stars. She loved learning about the universe and how big it was. She loved the mysteries. Any other aspect of science was not for her, but Patricia found peace in knowing that there was more to life than this world she lived in. There were bigger things at work. The studies of the stars helped her keep her faith, which wavered from time to time, especially now when she felt completely alone.

"That's enough, Mr. Simmers," Mrs. Anderson finally spoke, smacking her ruler on the board to demand silence. The moment her demands were met, however, the bell rang and the room buzzed happily as everyone rose from their seats. Patricia didn't move. It was easier to leave when she wasn't being shoved out the door with her books being slapped down to the floor.

"Catch ya later, monkey," Patrick cackled as yanked the bushel of thick hair sprouting from her ponytail. Patricia hissed in pain as Patrick released her, and high-fived his friends who laughed loudly before disappearing out into the hall. Patricia sighed and gathered her books, her scalp throbbing where he pulled. At least she hadn't cried, she thought, but the moment she went to mentally pat herself on the back, her sadness built up another lump in her throat. But she swallowed it down, getting up from her seat. She trailed tiredly out into the hall, unaware of everything around her. All the kids were so happy because it was Friday. They had weekend plans and Patricia was heading straight to work again.

"Hey, Patty!" Penny called, snapping Patricia from her daze. She looked up to see her best friend smiling brightly at her, as if she won the lottery. Patricia knew that look. Something good had happened.

"What's goin' on?" Patricia asked as Penny rolled her eyes, still smiling.

"Nothin'," she cheesed, making Patricia grunt in displeasure.

"Girl, don't make me crack ya lil' bony butt," she joked, "What's goin' on and why haven't ya told me yet?"

"Ain't nothin' to tell," Penny said carefully, "I mean... I could tell ya that I'm finally lettin' old Eddy take me out, but ya wouldn't wanna know nothin' 'bout that..." Patricia squealed and yanked Penny out of a white girl's way before they could brush shoulders. Penny would've been livid had the girl pushed her and Patricia didn't want to any more drama (like Penny's funeral).

"Oooh, child!" Patty laughed, "And ya kept on sayin' he ain't never gettin' wit' ya and look at y'all!"

"You sound like my mama," Penny complained, smirking still.

"Good to know mama approves," Patricia grinned, "I'm so happy for y'all. Now we can get a break from all his beggin'."

"Yeah, we can," Penny agreed, grinning, "But he is kinda cute, ain't he? I ain't gonna date no ugly boy 'cause he nice and sweet on me."

Patricia rolled her eyes. Penny was all about appearances sometimes. "That boy is good lookin'," Patricia assured, "Heck, if he gave me half the time he gives ya, we'd be havin' babies by now."

"Oh please," Penny scoffed, "Do ya even know where babies come from?" Patricia rolled her eyes at Penny who laughed.

"Yes, I do," Patricia grumbled, "Hopefully, none will be comin' outta you anytime soon. I'd feel so bad for the lil' suckers." Penny gasped and laughed, playfully shoving her friend. They chattered happily up the hallway, stopping at Penny's locker so she could put her books away. They were almost out the door when they heard the ruckus. There were so many kids running outside, but it wasn't the usually Friday rush of freedom. It seemed like there was something really good going on. Even the black kids were running up the road.

Penny and Patty came to the door of the school, pushed out completely by the flow of kids trying to get out. Patricia squinted into the sun, trying to focus on the crowd at the end of the block. There was a huge huddle; cheering and egging on could be heard from the distance. Patricia felt her stomach tighten uneasily. She knew exactly what was going on.

"There's a fight up the road," Patricia said, pouting. Patricia hated violence. Penny rolled her eyes.

"If them white people goin', it's definitely one of them," she concluded, "Besides, ain't no colored stupid enough to fight that close to school. They'd shoot them both before the fight even starts." Patricia nodded in silent agreement, turning to look away just as two white boys ran past.

"My money's on Collins, man!" one yelled.

"No way! Timberlake's on top, last I heard," the other argued. Patricia halted her steps, gasping as she turned back to the scene at the end of the road, horrified.

"Patty what the hell -" Penny started, but Patricia had went off running in the direction of the crowd. "Patricia! Patricia!" She heard her friend call, her voice getting lighter and lighter as her legs ran full speed. Patricia had no idea what she was going to do once she reached the crowd, but her gut had knotted so ferociously at the mention of Justin's name. Collins and Timberlake. Patty couldn't imagine what had caused such a ruckus. Why would Justin fight? He had football and college to worry about. Senior year was most important. Collins was a friend, he said. Collins and him would just talk, he assured. Patty tried not to think she was the source of this chaos. The idea was too ridiculous. Why would Justin ever fight over her?

The noise of the crowd was booming and Patty was right there, the backs of dozens of students to her as she tried her best to see. She didn't really want to, but she had to know. She pushed through, her petite frame coming in handy as she wiggled through the crowd. She could hear the scuffling of two bodies against the dirt road. She heard the grunts and growls of two boys. Fist to flesh and flesh to fist. The sounds were too much, but she had a terrible image of Justin, beaten and battered and she couldn't stop herself from breaking through, finally getting to the other side of the bodies.

Patricia gasped as Justin's soft, baby face gleamed with sweat, dirt, and blood. Shane was on top of him with a ghastly purpled eye and the blood coming from his nose. Justin's lip was bleeding and there was a scar leaking from his forehead as he struggled to flip Shane from him. Shane had pinned him down with both hands, momentarily releasing one of Justin's wrists to punch Justin hard against his cheek. Patricia looked away and missed the moment, but the crowd cheered. She turned back in time to see Justin head butt Shane before flipping him over. He was now on top. Justin wasted no time in his newfound position. His fists flew, hitting each side of Shane's face in an unbelievably smooth rhythm. The crowd roared like wild beasts, jumping and cheering. Patricia looked at Justin's face, not believing the darkness in his eyes. He looked so out of it. So demonic and predatory. He slowed his punches and then stopped to stand up slowly, exhausted as his chest heaved beneath his torn white button up.

The crowd clapped as Shane wearily began to rise. Justin stepped back as Shane did so, ready to pounce at any moment. Patricia grimaced when Justin took a moment to spit out blood from his mouth. She saw the red had stained his pristine white teeth when he hissed groaned in what could only be pain. Shane staggered, but stood, his breath labored, his eyes swollen, his nose bleeding, and his cheeks bruised. There was a hint of matching purple on Justin's face as well, but there was just no comparison.

"You...ya.." Shane slurred, stumbling back as the crowd shifted to make him room. He laughed. He laughed so loud as he wiped his nose sloppily with the back of his hand. Patricia's heart went out to the boy, despite this prior attacks on her. She didn't like pain or hurt or suffering. She didn't believe in that revenge. Even if she joked about it or even thought about it seriously, she could never inflict pain on someone.

"You loss, boy!" Somebody called out from the crowd, making the spectators laugh.

"Shut up!" Shane called out, spitting out blood a second later, "At least I ain't no nigger lover!" The crowd 'oh'ed and the white kids whistled while the blacks booed. Patricia's gut knotted when she saw the look on Justin's face. It seemed like he had been punched in the gut at the words. She guessed he was furious to be accused of liking blacks. That wasn't a very popular stigma to have among white students.

Justin's eyes narrowed at Collins as the hooting continued. He took two solid steps forward and in one swift second, his fist came flying at the unlucky jaw of the unlucky Collins boy. There was a loud crack that sent the students screaming in mocked pain as Shane fell back into the crowd. Girls shrieked and guys groaned, moving out of his body's way. Shane fell on top of some unlucky bystanders and the crowd laughed briefly before there was a hurried panic.

"Teachers!"

"Cops!"

"Oh shit!"

The array of screams came from all directions as the crowd ran off like cockroaches. Patricia was too terrified to stay, but Justin's knees gave out and he fell down tiredly. She could see the cops grabbing random students and teachers catching faces and handing out detention slips. She would be caught if she didn't run. Patricia couldn't go to jail. She couldn't serve detention and be late again.

"Patty, lets go!" From nowhere, Penny came running towards her, grabbing her arm before she could protest. Patricia's eyes ripped away from Justin's figure as cops knelt down beside him. She ran, glancing backward and tripping over her feet as Penny impatiently dragged her along. She couldn't be sure, but she could've sworn Justin had caught her eye and tried to smile, but Penny had yanked her arm and dragged her up a small street before she could be sure. She couldn't get his face out of her head as she ran, feeling guilty and scared for his safety.

What would she tell his parents? Should she even mention she was around? Patricia's gut knotted up further. Why did he have to fight Collins? Why had he smiled? Did he even smile? Why did she get the feeling that she really didn't want to know?

"I don't know what we're doin' wrong!" Mrs. Timberlake agonized.

Patricia pretended to be folding up the laundry out back, but she was listening in closely through the screen door of the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Timberlake were fuming still. It had been less than twenty-four hours since the incident. Justin had spent all of his time within the confines of his room. Patricia only saw him briefly when she brought him up breakfast. He didn't talk to her. He simply mumbled 'thank you' and kept his head down like he was ashamed. She wondered why he wouldn't talk to her like he normally would, but it wasn't something she brought up. Patricia wasn't much for confrontation and she figured if Justin didn't talk, he had a good enough reason not to.

It didn't help much that his mother had restricted him from anything that seemed fun. Television, phone calls, even going outside on the spring-like Saturday afternoon. He was probably depressed about his swollen face too. He looked something close to horrible, but even with his busted face, Patricia still found him to be adorable. Maybe because he always thanked her for his every meal, unlike his mother who'd complain about something being too cold, too hot, or too thick or wet. Justin only complained when it was 'too good' and nothing further. It made Patricia smile when she thought about it.

"Honey, he's a boy. He's gonna get a lil' scuffed up from time to time," Mr. Timberlake reasoned soothingly. Patricia could imagine him rubbing those circles on her back to calm her down, "We haven't done a thing to steer him in the wrong direction. He's a great student, on the baseball and football teams. He's sings in the church choir -"

"He quit last year," Mrs. Timberlake reminded him. "That's where it all went wrong. I knew I shoulda made him stick it out, but I just kept on supportin' his free lil' spirit and now he's goin' to jail!" Patricia giggled lightly to herself when Mrs. Timberlake let out a wail and sobbed. It was too funny. Justin loved choir, but quit to stop his friends from hasseling him about all the 'virgin church girls'. Patricia remembered some of the conversations she walked in on whenever he had company and she had to serve snacks as her mother entertained the adult guests downstairs. She used to love helping her mama during a Timberlake party. Everybody was so fancy in dresses and suits and she envied their rich beauty.

But she mostly liked the way Justin always asked her to assemble his bow tie because he never quite got the hang of it. She liked how he smiled and thanked her when she brought his friends drinks. She especially liked the way he'd smack one of his friends upside the head if they refused to offer the same politeness. Justin was always nice to her and it made it easier on her mother to have her come to work. Mrs. Timberlake could be nasty, but she saved her bravado for when nobody was around, but Justin seemed to be gravitationally inclined to Patricia. He was her safety spot and now, as she finished up the laundry folding, she intended to be his. He couldn't have been feeling good about himself with his mother forbidding him from seeing the light of day. Patricia would try and cheer him up somehow.

Patricia made her way back into the house, making sure to make enough noise at the door to give warning to the Timberlakes. "Patricia, be a dear and brew Lynn some tea please," Mr. Timberlake said, consoling his wife in his arms.

"Lemon and honey," Mrs. Timberlake sniffled against her husband's arm, "Not too much lemon though. You always put too much." Patricia grunted internally, but nodded and smiled.

"Not too much," she repeated, watching as Mr. Timberlake guided his wife from the kitchen. Patricia waited until she was definitely alone to roll her eyes. Too much lemon, indeed. "Impossible woman!" Patricia whispered harshly to herself, grabbing the kettle from the stove top and filling it with water by the sink. She made her way to the gas burners and turned the heat all the way up before placing the kettle on top of it. She grabbed the tea bags and sliced a lemon in half before grabbing Mrs. Timberlake's mug. She squeeze the citrus juice into the mug and added some sugar to it. Mrs. Timberlake always asked for honey, but liked so little of it in her tea that there was hardly a point, but Patricia added two drops to the mixture anyway.

As the water boiled, she began to dig through the cookie cabinet. Mrs. Timberlake would love some sweet crackers with her warm brew and Justin would love to be treated to some of her peanut butter almond cookies. Patricia grabbed a small bag full along with the crackers. She plated the crackers and placed the mug in the center of it. The water whistled and she turned it off and poured some into the cup. She stirred and then headed out to the living area. Mr. and Mrs. Timberlake were on the sofa, watching television quietly. Patricia placed the plate on the coffee table and left without a word. It was like she never walked in. Had her invisibility worked like that in school, she'd be a lot happier.

But alas, Patricia re-entered the kitchen, tucking the bag of peanut butter cookies under the pile of folded clothes. She smiled to herself as she slipped past the cozied Timberlakes. Patricia crept up the stairs carefully, scared to tumble back with her load of white clothes, being as clumsy as she is. She delivered the linens to the bathroom, the clothes of the parents were next, and then she finally had a small pile for Justin's room at the end of the hall. His door was closed and the dark wood of it matched the other doors.

Justin had his grandmother's rosary nailed up on the door. It was all he had left of her since she passed two years ago. Patty remembered how sad he was and it still broke her heart to remember him crying from the back porch swing when he thought nobody was around. Patty was just cleaning up after the wake when she heard him sobbing uncontrollably. She went to put out the trash that night, innocently enough, but ended up eavesdropping. He didn't stop at all, not until she found him sleeping on the cushions of the swing. She remembered crying for him, leaning against the frame of the kitchen door. Patricia knew all too well what it was like to lose someone you love.

"Knock, knock," Patricia said, knocking accordingly against the oak door. There was some shifting around before Justin cleared his throat.

"Come on in," he said softly. Patricia wearily turned the knob, balancing the basket on one side of her hip. She slowly crept inside of his room, taking in the baby blue walls and the numerous sports posters decorating them. Justin was sitting in the center of his bed, his back against his headboard and pillows, and a book in his hands. Patricia leant over a bit to catch a glimpse of the cover.

"Are you willingly readin' 'Othello'?" Patricia asked, amused. She made her way to his dresser, placing the basket on the top of it.

"It seems I've taken a likin' to Shakespeare," Justin said sheepishly, creasing the page to mark his spot as he shut his book. He placed it to his side and watched Patricia as she unloaded his clothes and organized his dresser. His face pinkened when she nonchalantly put away his underwear. It wasn't so much her being aware of his underwear that embarassed him, it was how much he liked the idea of her touching his underwear that made him blush.

"I'm glad to hear it," Patricia said, grabbing the peanut butter almond cookies from the bottom of the basket. She spun around beaming as she held out her goodies. "And now I guess you really do deserve a lil' sweetness, Mr. Timberlake." Justin's entire face lit up at the sight of his favorite cookies.

"Well, don't just stand there wavin' them 'round! Get over here and share 'em wit' me!" he gushed. Patricia giggled lightly and walked over to his bed. She stood beside it as she opened up the bag. Justin impatiently patted the empty spot on the edge of the bed beside him, scooting over just a bit. "Have a seat, girl." Patricia paused her movements, becoming slightly alarmed at the invitation.

"Oh no, I shouldn't," she declined, "I'm 'spose to be makin' dinner real soon anyway. I'll just take one to go."

"Dinner ain't necessary right now," Justin said, tapping the empty spot again, "Have a sit. I insist." Patricia looked up at his face, his swollen cheek and bandaged forehead. He was still smiling softly at her, as if to reassure her that it was fine to sit, but Patricia was stupidly scared. She had never been on a bed with a boy who wasn't her little brother. The thought of sitting on Justin's bed felt so wrong, even if they were just sharing some homemade cookies.

"I...I dunno," Patricia said uneasily, glancing back at his open door, "What if your mama walks in?"

"And sees us eatin' cookies?" Justin asked, amused by her terrified expression. "She's caught me doin' much worse on this bed, trust me." He laughed heartily and Patricia felt her stomach twist in a knot that almost pained her. She looked down at his bed and back at him. Patricia could scarcely remember some of the flings he had up in his room. There were two girls she could clearly see in her mind. They were both cheerleaders and Justin seemed to like the way they looked more than anything. Patricia remembered him going upstairs to study with them a lot, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe those brainless girls were up for studying.

"Well, now I really can't have a sit," Patricia said, "Here. Just take 'em. I'm gonna get dinner started." Justin looked down at her extended hand, which held the cookies, and then back at her. She looked angry and Justin thought she might've been jealous of his previous...encounters. It made his chest swell up.

"Aww, Patty..." he cooed gently, confusing her, "If I didn't know any better..."

"What in the name of Eve are you talkin' 'bout?" Patricia asked. Justin reached and yanked her arm, pulling her straight down to his bed. She tumbled clumsily on top of him as he cackled and groaned in pain when she slapped him all over his chest and arms. His bruises and cuts and sore muscles felt every touch through his thin sleeping shirt, but he found her displeasure to be hilarious. He forced her against his body, sitting up straight with her in his lap, caged in his arms until she calmed herself.

"Justin Randall, if you don't get your hands off me, I'mma make ya Collins' twin!" Patricia's threat fell heavily on his ears as Justin gasped a bit.

"How would you know what Collins looks like?" he asked, smiling brightly as if he already. Patricia shrugged a bit, staring off to the side at his bedroom door.

"When I heard it was your dumb self fightin', I had to go see..." she explained with a nonchalant tone. Justin snorted and smirked smugly.

"I knew I saw you," Justin said. He looked down at her, feeling the warmth of her body as he continued to squish her against him. "I looked up and I saw ya runnin' off, but I didn't wanna call ya and get you in trouble..." He was beaming, but she seemed uncomfortable being close to him.

Patricia looked down his neck and took in the veins and the adam's apple that coated his throat. His collar bones and the defined beginnings of his chest showed through the open 'v' of his sleep shirt. She swallowed, never once having seen the body of a man this close and never once wanting to run her hands all over the body of a man so much.

"What was you fightin' for anyway?" Patricia asked, getting annoyed that he could do something so stupid. "Are you really goin' to jail now?" Her face crumpled with disapproval and Justin burst out laughing, his chest moving against her body as he did.

"Patty, stop listenin' to my mama," he smirked, "I ain't goin' to jail no way. Collins threw the first punch tryin' to show off. That ass whoopin' served him right."

"I didn't even recognize you," Patty said softly, shaking her head at the violent images, "You looked so angry and then he called you a -" She sighed, not being able to bring herself to say it. Justin's actions now compared to his reaction during the fight were two different things. He was so angry to be publicly known as a lover of blacks, but he was holding Patricia now like it was nothing.

"Collins' an ass," Justin said, his smile flattering, "Don't let him upset you."

"It's not me he upset," Patricia told him, leaning back a bit to meet his eyes, "You on the other hand..." Justin shrugged, confused.

"Why wouldn't I be upset?" he scoffed, "He called me a 'nigger lover'. That ain't right." Patricia straightened up a bit, her stomach tightening.

"I guess I'd be mad too if I were you," Patty felt herself getting disappointed. It was a lot harder to have him confirm his distaste for black people with her wrapped up in his arms. She was confused and now upset. "I have to go make dinner."

She tried to get out of his grasp, but to no avail. "Now, hold up just a minute," Justin said, catching on to the pained look on her face, "I wasn't mad 'cause of what you're thinkin'."

"And what am I thinkin'?" Patricia snapped, getting annoyed with his grip on her.

"Miss. Hurley, you're a damn fool if ya think for one minute I care about what people say about me," he said gently, "I don't see color and I don't care much for people that make fun of me for it. I'm not ashamed of who I like to be around or talk to or hold..." Patty felt the butterflies in her gut when he stared down at her intensely. It was like she was the only person he was referring to.

"Then what were you fightin' for?" she asked softly, "Why were you so mad?" Justin's eyes softened as his cheeks flared up instantly.

"Well...I had asked him nicely to leave ya alone," he began, "I told him you worked for my parents and you can't keep comin' late 'cause he felt like bein' an ass. Naturally, he told me to mind my business and I told him you were my business. Then he starts callin' me a nig-" Justin saw her wincing for the word. Patricia wasn't a fan and he didn't like it much either. "Well, ya know what he called me and I didn't care. I walked away and told him to just quit while he was ahead, but Collins has to be a show off and starts hollerin' 'bout you bein' my girlfriend or somethin'..." Patricia felt her own cheeks flare.

"Why'd he say that?" she asked nervously. Justin shrugged a bit.

"I guess 'cause I told him to leave you alone," he smiled shyly, "I didn't care that he thought that. I even told him you were my girl and so he better stop messin' with ya..." Patricia laughed before she could stop herself. She could practically see Collins face when Justin said that.

"Why on earth would you do that for?" Patricia smiled as Justin chuckled a bit.

"None of them believed me, they all just laughed. Everybody was over it, but Collins started talkin' a bunch crap about you and..." Justin seemed to get angry in the moment all over again as he looked away and thought back.

"Nothin' I never heard before, I'm sure," Patricia tried to soothe, "Did he say my hair was nappy and I was darker than night? Was my Daddy an alcoholic again?" She rolled her eyes, but everything she said had hurt to say and still hurt to hear.

"I don't care if he said things like that a million times before," Justin stated, bringing his angered eyes back to her, "It don't make it right, Patty. And he's a yellow-bellied dog for pickin' with a girl anyway. Why not one of the black guys? I'll tell ya why - 'cause he's scared. He knew you didn't have a boyfriend or nothin' to stand up for you. He thought he could say whatever he wanted and nobody would fight for ya, but I sure as hell proved him wrong." Patricia started to see that same predatory anger throughout his expression and she hesitantly raised her face a bit. Her heart pounded as she placed a tiny kiss against his cheek. Justin's eyes instantly softened as he looked over her face. She was bashfully staring at her lap in a flash, unable to hold the contact.

"Thank you..." she said, "I don't like fightin', but I never had anybody stand up for me... I mean, Penny has, but ya know...not fightin' and riskin' so much for me. I really wasn't worth it, Justin. I hope you're not in too much trouble."

"I don't care how much trouble I'm in," Justin said, "I'd do it again, Patty. I wouldn't have to think about it." His soft voice held so much sincerity that Patricia had to look up and smile. Her stomach was so knotted up with good feelings for Justin. He was an honorable boy who fought for her. It was all too much for her to absorb.

"I will never understand you," she said, laughing lightly and looking away again. She was never good with eye contact.

"You will, someday," Justin assured, reaching up to caress along the length of her jaw with his knuckles. Patricia looked up at him as he did so. He didn't seem nervous at all. He looked so comfortable and all Patricia could think about was his mother barrelling through the door like an enraged bull. She'd probably shoot Patricia and then make Justin bury her in the backyard.

"Justin..." Her voice was trembling and she felt her heart beating in her ears. Justin's breathing was deeper now that she had spoken and she felt his chest moving against hers. She didn't know where to put her hands, so they stayed awkwardly against the mattress between his legs. Patricia's face heated up when she realized how close she was to his most private part. "I think I should get goin'-"

"I like the way you smell," Justin admitted suddenly, overwhelmed by her closeness. He didn't care that his face was probably turning into a cherry red from embarassment. Everything he said and did made him feel so vulnerable and idiotic, but he felt like he had to say it. He had to tell her in this moment because he didn't know if this would ever happen again. He leant down a little closer and Patricia was stiff when he breathed in the scent of her hair. "It's like... coconut and peppermint or somethin'..." he chuckled to himself. "Sweet and minty."

"My mama...she...um... puts this... s-stuff in my hair. I guess it's like a...hairdressin'. Like hair grease or somethin'. But you're a boy, so I guess it don't matter to ya no way..." Patricia said, lightly laughing to herself, "Anyway, she said she got it from her mama, who got it from her, who got it from her mama... I'm 'spose to get it eventually, I guess... I'll be eighteen soon, so I'm hopin' that's my present..." Patricia was staring at his collar bones as she spoke, afraid to move as he took in her scent. Her rambling was a direct result of her nervousness.

"Mmm..." Justin sighed in content, taking another breath. Patricia closed her eyes at the sound. It made her feel weird to hear him sound like that. "I like it..."

"Thanks," she said softly. Justin hugged her closer when she tried to subtly escape his grasp, forcing her to shift forward. She tried to move without touching him, but her cheek ended up against the base of his neck and her arm moved to hang around his waist, pressed against the mattress to help support her weight. He had taken her other arm and she watched as he lifted her wrist to his nose. Her breathing hitched when he delicately brushed his nose over her pulse, taking in her scent. Patricia's heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure he heard it. She felt so out of place, but completely relaxed. It felt new and nice and warm.

Justin's eyes had closed when he breathed her in, but they opened as he brought her palm to his lips, kissing it gently. Patricia shivered when his moist, soft mouth caressed her skin.

"Don't ever doubt your worth, Patricia," Justin whispered against her hand before running her hand along his jaw, "'Specially when it comes to me." Patricia just nodded, staring at him, completely mesmerized. He closed his eyes as he skimmed her hand along his beet red cheek. She wish she knew what to do. She wished she wasn't shaking so much that she was embarassed that he could probably feel it. Patricia didn't know how to be close and affectionate with a boy, but she never wanted to know so badly before. Justin, however, seemed so perfectly content. So at ease with this intimacy. If it wasn't for the tint his cheeks, Patricia would think it was too easy. She was still so nervous she could barely stand it. She was completely incompetent when it came to boys, but white boys left her even more clueless. Patricia barely understood white people in general. She usually had three basic feelings around them: anger, sadness, and fearfulness. Justin was the only one who was different, but it didn't change anything.

He might not care about society, but Patty, for one, most certainly did. She couldn't like Justin. They couldn't sniff each other and hold one another. They couldn't even eat peanut butter almond cookies together. People didn't just talk and call names; they beat and kill those who don't follow the rules. Patty knew that better than anybody and yet, she couldn't stop her heart from pounding. She couldn't let the dangers lurking in the future keep her from noticing how beautifully curled his hair was or how cute his rosey cheeks were. And even if she didn't know what to do with his body, she couldn't stop herself from noticing how warm and nice it felt. Looking at him did weird things to her and her pulse, and she couldn't help that either.

Justin, experienced as he may be, had never felt this comfortable with a girl before. He always wanted to have Patty close, but they were always so awkward when it came to being physical. He knew she was aware of their racial differences and he feared his white culture made her distrusting of him. Justin sometimes thought she was just not attracted to him. The black girls at school never once looked at the white boys. He heard they thought they were weak and sensitive and just plain boring. Not to mention racist bigots who were spoiled rotten and unfairly rich.

Those rumors had held him back, but he saw how much Patty laughed at his jokes and took time out of her day to help him. He figured she at least liked him that much, so what could a little contact do to hurt them? He hadn't expected her to be this soothing. He was feeling a lot more than he had bargained for as he leant his head down and pressed his cheek against her forehead. She didn't move her face from his neck as she closed her eyes. Justin laced his fingers through hers, bringing their hands between their pressed bodies. His heart felt so full as he nuzzled his cheek against her head and her soft breath tickled along his neck where she rested. This felt more intimate than anything to him. Just holding her like this was far more amazing than rolling around in a bed with a nameless girl from school.

"Justin!" The shout from up the hall sent Justin and Patricia flying. They reluctantly ripped apart as footsteps approached. Patricia took her place by the forgotten laundry basket as Justin tucked the cookies beneath his pillow.

"I'm in my room, Mama!" Justin shouted back. He leant over a bit to see his mother coming up the hall from her bedroom. She held two dresses in her hands, beaming. It took everything in him not to roll his eyes.

"Well, I needed an opinion before I showed your father -" she began as she appeared in the room, but Justin had glanced over to his corner dresser to find Patricia. His mother followed his gaze and she glowered when Patricia smiled shyly at the floor. "What are you doin' in my boy's room?" Patricia's shy smile flattered as she finally acknowledged Mrs. Timberlake's existence. Justin groaned.

"Mama..." he pleaded, annoyed. His mother didn't even acknowledge him.

"I was just..." Patricia began, already panicking. She glanced quickly at Justin, silently begging for an out.

"She was just puttin' away laundry, Ma," he assured, "Now you want my opinion, you said?" He pretended to be interested in both gowns. One was cream colored and sparkled with crystal designs. The other was a simple black dress that reached the floor with a tiny train.

"Yes..." Mrs. Timberlake said, slowly removing her gaze from Patricia to her son. Her smile was back on. "I mean, they're both new and your daddy hasn't seen 'em yet." Justin was so used to his mother's constant badgering about what to wear or buy or eat. He sometimes thought she forgot he was a boy and could care less about the feminine things she talked about. But Justin couldn't lie; after so many years together, Justin had to admit that his mother's interest in pleasing his father was somewhat adorable. Most couples would be over impressing each other, but his mother was always going out of her way and worrying.

"Well then, Mama, Daddy is a simple man, so go with the simple dress," Justin said smoothly, "Black."

"That's what I was thinkin'!" His mother beamed, leaning down to kiss his cheek briefly, "I'mma go put it on."

"With pearls?" Justin suggested, just to offer her a little more happiness. His mother was overjoyed with his opinion.

"That's a fine idea!" she agreed, She scurried from the room and Justin rolled his eyes. He rolled them right in Patricia's direction, smiling softly when he watched her rigid body relax.

"That's cute," Patricia voiced, "She's terribly mean, but she loves your daddy." Justin made a gagging noise that made Patricia giggle.

"My mother loves his wallet maybe," he joked, knowing full well his parents loved one another. "I guess I do kinda want what they have. They were happy about the play tickets. I'm just happy to have the whole night alone here."

"I'm happy I only have to make dinner for one," Patricia sighed in relief. Justin raised a brow comically.

"Aren't you stayin'?" he asked. Patricia shrugged a bit.

"Was I 'spose to?" she inquired, placing her hand on her hip like she was challenging the idea.

"I've got an English exam," he told her sheepishly. "I was kinda hopin' we'd study." Patricia felt her belly ache a bit when he looked at her over his eyelashes, playing with his fingers like an adorable five year old. How could she possibly say no to that face?

"Sure," Patricia said as he looked her over. Her face warmed as the butterflies continued their battle in her stomach. She needed to leave to compose herself. "I'm gonna get dinner ready. Get your books together. When your parents leave, we'll study downstairs."

"I'm not allowed to leave my room," Justin smiled a bit, "We'll have to stay up here." Patricia thought her head was going to explode when she thought he was hinting something inappropriate.

"Well, you aren't allowed to do a lot of things, Justin," she said, "It never stopped you before, so don't get all proper now."

"Alright, alright," he surrendered. Patricia bit her bottom lip to hold back her smile when he pouted fiercely. She shook her head. Did he really want to hold her again that badly? Patricia didn't stop to think about it too long; it made her giddy when she thought about it, so she decided to head downstairs and focus on making supper without another word. The parents would be gone by the time dinner was ready. Justin and her would have ample time to study before she'd leave for the night.

Patricia had never been more excited to study in her entire life.

"Okay, so now that we've got Hamlet down, we're gonna work on some Edgar Allan Poe," Patricia announced like the schoolteacher Justin could see her as when they finished college. Patricia was an excellent teacher. She saw themes and meanings in stories that Justin would never see in a million years. From the politics in Mac Beth to the purpose of redundancy in Emerson's "Self-Reliance", she knew it all.

Justin felt smarter whenever he listened to her, but focusing on Edgar Allan Poe was hard to do with Patricia's knee brushing against his. They were tucked beneath the coffee table, using it as a desk with books and notes scattered everywhere. They were only an hour into their study session and Justin knew his parents were probably just settling into their seats after a quick dinner. They would most likely go to have dessert at Pink's cafe downtown afterward, maybe have a drink or two... Patricia and him had hours alone and Justin had a clear idea of how he wanted to spend his time with her.

He stared at her profile as she rambled on about Poe's "The Cat". Justin wasn't following a single word, but he was watching her mouth and the way her lips moved. They looked so soft and full. Justin had never kissed a black girl before. He wondered what she tasted like. Patricia would have to be the sweetest taste any man could imagine. It made his mouth water just thinking about it as his eyes skimmed down her neck and the curve of her breasts. They were so large and round like ripe grapefruits. They were probably soft too and sensitive to touch. His touch. He could hear the way she would moan when he'd touch her. He could practically feel the warmth of her body underneath his... A shot of electricity straight to Justin's groin as he sat up and folded his hands into his lap, gasping at the sensation. Patricia turned with raised brows when he jumped up so suddenly. Justin turned a shade of crimson.

"What's wrong?" Patricia said, looking over his flushed face. She thought that maybe she had said something he didn't understand. She didn't mean to ramble on about Poe, but he was one of her favorite authors.

"Huh?" Justin asked dumbly, getting too caught up in the way her eyes were staring up into his before she shyly looked away.

"You're jumpin' like you're scared or somethin'," she said, flipping through his notebook, "I guess this story was pretty scary."

"You read it before?" Justin asked, feeling his groin relax a little now that he wasn't so mixed up in his thoughts.

"Justin, I just read it out loud to you," Patricia laughed, looking at him strangely, "Are you okay?" Justin's face flared up again as he looked at his folded hands.

"I guess I just need a break from things," he smirked, "I'm spacing out."

"I guess we could take a little snack break," Patricia smirked, glancing at their emptied dinner plates, piled up at the right side of the coffee table. "I can finish up those dishes while you eat. What do you want?" Justin wanted to tell her that what he hungered for couldn't be found in the refrigerator, but he just shrugged.

"I don't know yet," he said, "But I'll walk you to the kitchen and see if something peeks my interest." Patricia shrugged slid out from under the table. Justin did the same. They both stood and he grabbed the plates before she could bother. She playfully nudged him on their way to the kitchen and he bumped her with his hip, making her giggle.

Once they were in the kitchen, Justin dumped the dishes in the sink and Patricia shooed him out of the way when he tried to wash them.

"I've got it, Justin," she said.

"I can get two dishes," he argued.

"It's my job," she shot back, "Just go find something you want to eat." Justin rolled his eyes, no longer in the mood to fight with her. He sat at the counter on a stool and watched as she scrubbed away. He glanced over her backside, taking in the voluptuous curve of her bottom. His groin tightened again and he closed his eyes and thought of his Aunt Sue in a swimsuit. He almost took out his own eyes last summer when her wrinkled skin hung over the edges of her swimwear.

"Did you make a decision?" Patricia said, turning off the running water. Justin snapped his eyes open. She was leaning back against the sink, drying her hands with a dishtowel. Justin watched as she folded it up and hung it over the sink's edge.

"I'm not hungry," he said, "But I could use something sweet." Patricia looked away from his gaze and thought for a moment.

"We still have some of your peanut butter cookies left. I stashed some away for you," she offered. Justin stood from his seat on the counter; his stomach warped with vivacious butterflies.

"I wasn't talkin' about cookies, Patty," he said, approaching her slowly, languidly. She looked him up and down, growing anxious as he approached.

"I can make you some brownies if you like..." she said, trailing off just as he stopped two inches in front of her. His eyes were like magnets, but she pulled her eyes away to stare at her school shoes, "It won't take very long..." she tried again, but her voice fell. His scent was making her skin warm up. He always smelled like soap and pine and honeysuckle. It was so nice and manly. She didn't know what to do when his warm hand touched against her cheek, skimming along her jaw. She stayed looking down until his fingers rested under her chin and guided her face upward. Patricia felt lightheaded when he looked down at her. His eyes were larger, pupils dilated. She placed her trembling hands on the sink behind her to keep her balance.

"I was actually thinking of something a little sweeter," he said softly, his eyes glancing down at her mouth before locking with her gaze again. Patricia felt her heart pounding and something between her legs jolted straight through her spine.

"Like wh-what?" she stammered, getting embarrassed when a coy smile spread across his baby face.

"It's okay," he assured, "I'm nervous too."

"You don't look it," Patricia said softly, gasping when he took another step forward, lining their bodies up. His hands rested on either side of her face and the heat from his body seemed to burn right through her clothes and onto her skin.

"Patricia..." he said, closing his eyes for a moment like he was in pain. He re-opened them and ran his hands up to her hair, moving his fingers along the soft, woven design of her braids. "You're so beautiful."

Patricia tried to laugh, but it got stuck in her throat. "No, I'm not." Justin's eyes softened at her serious disregard to her beauty. He could see she truly believed what she was saying and it made him defensive. It made him want to beat Shane up again for making her feel bad. He wanted to destroy anybody who ever put her down.

"Yes, you are," Justin said, "You're always beautiful, Patty." She shook her head.

"I know what I look like, Justin, but it's sweet for you to say that." Patricia knew she was a lot of things, but beautiful was not one of them. Penny was beautiful and so was Tracey, but Patricia Hurley was average. She had boring hair and features. She didn't wear heels or got her hair done. Patricia didn't have good clothes that made her shapely like the other girls. She wasn't anything desirable and yet, Justin - a white, rich, handsome boy - was nice enough to say she was. At least Patricia knew she was a good person. That was the only reason why he was trying to make her feel better.

"I'm not just saying it," Justin said, "I mean it, Patty. I've seen a lot of pretty girls, but none of them make me feel like this." Patricia snapped out of her thoughts. She looked up into Justin's eyes and his gaze never faltered.

"What?" she asked because she had heard him without really hearing him.

"I said nobody makes me feel like this..." Justin repeated, blushing deeper. A chill ran through Patricia, not only from his words, but how his hands traveled down her sides and rested on her hips. "It kind of scares me to be feeling this way..." His confession was caused by a knot growing in the very pit of his belly, weighing him down. He was so close to her, but it wasn't enough. Justin yearned to voice what was inside, but nothing really added up to his emotions and to the physical strain his attraction to her placed over him.

"Feeling like what?" she asked, not really believing him. Patricia couldn’t think of why she’d make him feel like anything. Justin made her skin warm with a glance and her hands were starting to hurt from gripping the sink basin so hard, but she couldn’t be doing the same to him. He didn’t seem as nervous or distracted as she was. He wasn’t panicking and stuttering like she was.

"I feel like… Iike I've gotta have you or I'm gonna die or somethin’," he said, laughing at himself. Patricia didn't laugh, she could barely find her voice.

"Oh," she said simply. Justin cheeks burned and he shifted his weight from one foot to the next. He licked his dry lips and watched Patricia trace the movement of his tongue when it moistened the surface of his mouth. It made him blush more.

"Is that a bit much?" he asked, gripping her hips a little, just to feel the softness of her flesh better. The smooth cotton of her skirt was warm with her body heat.

"No," Patricia said automatically, looking at him behind her long lashes. Justin’s entire body flared when she bit her bottom lip and looked away. Her innocence was her most attractive quality. Justin wondered if she had ever been with anybody else. The thought of another boy touching her made Justin jealous. He didn’t like the idea of Patricia being touched by anybody but him, even though he had no rights to her.

"Do you feel like that...about me?" Justin glanced down momentarily, "I mean...Not die, really, but maybe the whole...wanting me thing...ya know?" Patricia swallowed down, trying to ignore the gentle stroke of his thumb against her hip. It was a subconscious motion, she was sure, but everywhere he touched tingled. Of course she wanted him. She didn't know what to do with him in any regard, but she knew she wanted him. Patricia was like a dog chasing a truck, barking and running at full speed, but what will the dog do when the said truck stops and it can finally have it?

Patricia could not answer that question. Justin was a truck she'd never catch and even if she did, the white man driving that truck would probably kick her doggy self to the side since she had no business near his truck. But Patricia still wanted Justin to make her tingle everywhere possible. The thought alone made Patty blush. What would her pastor say? What would her mama say? Thinking of what they would think made Patricia think about the rest of town. What did it matter if she wanted him or not? They couldn't have each other. Not like that.

"I don't think we should be talkin' 'bout this stuff, Justin," Patricia said, looking down at the hardwood floor of the kitchen. Her heart was fluttering in her chest.

"You think too much," Justin smirked, pinching her side playfully. Patricia involuntarily giggled before swatting his hand away.

"I'm serious, Justin," Patricia said, sighing as she looked up at him, "I don't want any trouble." Justin frowned a bit at the hesitance in her eyes. She was scared of what he was saying because he was scared too. Justin wasn't blind to the facts of their world, but he was empowered by his right to be free. He wished Patricia would just stick with him, go out on a limb and just do what she wanted and not what she was told to do by society or anybody for that matter. But he knew that even if the world weren’t as narrow-minded and hateful, his mother wouldn't approve of her in a million years and if mama didn't say yes, dad was sure to agree. Justin wanted to roll his eyes at the very thought.

"There won't be trouble," Justin assured, gently skimming the back of his hand across her soft cheek, watching the peachy tones of his skin clash against the brown, smooth surface. "I won't let anything happen."

"You're just talkin' a bunch of stuff so that I'll give in," Patricia playfully poked his chest, trying to ignore the taut muscle she felt.

"Miss. Hurley, are you accusin' me of tryin' to seduce you?" Justin smirked leaning back a bit to raise a brow comically. Patricia felt blood rushing to her cheeks as she shrugged. Was she accusing Justin of seducing her? She had never been seduced, so she wasn't sure what seduction looked like. It made her nervous to have him staring down at her, looking over her body so openly, his hands on her hips without hesitance. Patricia had never been with anybody before and she'd rather die than say that out loud to Justin. He obviously wasn't going to be happy with that news anyway.

She had seen the girls he brought home. He didn't take home the innocent girls. He liked the girls with rumors and reputations. Patricia had never even kissed before. She was never seen as more than a friend to any boy who even bothered to acknowledge her. Patricia was accepting she'd be alone until her husband came along. Patricia thought it would be sweet and she would be in love; true, deep love that God intended all people to be in. Not some nonsensical crush she had on a white boy. Justin wasn't stable and she wasn't going to waste her time or body on something that couldn’t go anywhere. Patricia knew that she’d find love and seventeen years of her youth spent alone wouldn’t matter once she got it. She couldn’t start something as risky as this business with Justin because she felt lonely at times. Patricia had enough things to worry about as it is.

"I think we should get back to studying..." Patricia mumbled, looking down at the stripes that decorated Justin's gray button up. They were different shades of purple lines. From lilac and lavender to plum and grape. Patricia wanted to trace them with her fingertips just so she could feel his body without actually having to feel him at all, just the contours of his stomach and chest. Just the warmth of his body against her hands...

"You didn't answer my question," Justin said, not allowing her to skim by that easy. Patricia had a way of over thinking and talking her way out of being honest. Justin just wanted to know he wasn't the only one feeling the way he was.

"I shrugged," Patricia argued gently.

"Not the seducin'," Justin clarified, leaning back over her and becoming serious, "I gotta know if you want me too, Patty. If you feel like I do." The knot that tore through his stomach at his words made him bite his lip, a habit he was picking up from Patricia.

"Justin, it doesn’t matter what I want," Patricia said, shrugging yet again, "People hardly ever get what they want. I want mama to be healthy and she still isn’t. I want to go to college, but I’ll never be able to afford it. I want long hair that curls up real nice like Tracey’s. And I want a car too. A nice Ford that I can pull up to school with and not have to worry about walking halfway across town every day…"

"I want all those things for you too," Justin said cupping her cheek in his hand. Patricia kept looking away from him anyway. "Patty, please look at me." Patricia couldn’t stand the sadness in his tone and she looked up and rolled her eyes.

"I really wish you wouldn’t," she said, already seeing his speech coming, "It’s nice that you want all those things for me too, but it doesn’t change anything."

"I just want to know what you’re feeling," Justin said, feeling his heart tense up, looking for reassurance. Patricia sighed when his eyes pleaded with her.

"Yes, Justin…" she admitted, reluctantly. "I feel the same way…" Patricia wanted to cross her arms over her chest, but was afraid to touch Justin’s body by doing so. She felt strangely naked and vulnerable.

"Good," Justin said, his hand skimming along her jaw line again. He loved the way her face shaped out so perfectly, so softly. Patricia trembled when his hand caressed down her neck. She watched Justin's face as he watched his own hand move over her body. He was tracing her shoulder and arm before stopping at her hip again. Her heart slammed against her rib cage when he looked up and focused his attention on her mouth. Justin licked his lips again and looked her in the eyes. Her eyes appeared to be larger, wide with anxiousness. Justin placed his hands on either side of her body, leaning against the sink, which squeaked beneath his weight. Patricia stood up straighter, letting out a shaky breath.

"We really should get back to–"

"Stop talkin’, woman," Justin interrupted. Patricia felt her insides flip and flop about when Justin leant his head down. She stopped breathing, but he simply brushed their noses. "I won’t kiss you unless you want me to..." His warm breath touched her face and Patricia’s brain was on empty. Her vision was getting blurry.

"I-I…umm…" Patricia couldn’t talk. She was afraid her breath smelled like mashed potatoes. She was afraid her lips were dry. She was afraid that he would kiss her anyway and she wouldn’t know what to do.

"You what?" Justin said, his hand suddenly on the back of her neck, his thumb caressing a spot behind her ear. He pulled back a bit and searched her eyes. He watched her swallow down hard. Patricia's brown orbs were wild with uneasiness and Justin felt awkwardly out of place all of a sudden. Had he pushed her beyond her limits? Was she scared now?

"I hate it when you just look at me," Patricia blurted out.

"I'm sorry," he apologized softly, but still stared, "I'm just taking you in."

"I don't even know what that means," she said, but Justin moved back up to brush their noses, making her heart jump again.

"Patricia..." Justin said shakily. He tilted his head, kissing the side of her mouth. Patricia whimpered and the sound made his body stiffen. Justin wanted nothing more than to grab her and take her anywhere in the kitchen, but he couldn't. She was already shaking from his innocent kisses down her cheek. He didn't want to come off too strong.

Patricia instinctively reached out for him though, grabbing onto the back of his neck just as his nose trailed her jaw from chin to ear. Her whole body caught fire when he kissed behind her lobe. Another soft whimper fell from her slightly parted lips. Justin's groin tensed as she gently rubbed the cropped curls at the nape of his neck.

He retraced his previous steps, resting his lips against her throat and kissing upward. She tilted her head back and sighed. He moved his lips to her chin and finally the corner of her mouth. Justin brushed their noses and pulled back slightly as she slowly opened her eyes again. He watched her swallow down as she stared up at him with a wondrous expression. Justin's eyes fought a losing battle to not look at her mouth and he reached his hand up to run his thumb along the soft flesh.

"Justin?" Patricia lips moved and he locked the image of how his name fell from her mouth before looking up at her eyes.

"Yes?" His thumb now caressed along the length of her cheek.

"I want you to kiss me," Patricia said, "But I don't know what I'm doing." Justin knew she wasn't lying, but he wanted it clearly confirmed.

"You've never been with anybody?" he asked. Patricia looked away and shook her head.

"Never," she said softly, "I know it's dumb or something, but... I just never did."

"I don't think it's dumb," Justin assured. Patricia looked at him suspiciously, "Really, Patty, I think it's sweet. I like that about you." Patricia didn't say anything. She was at a loss for words. Such a positive reaction to something so embarrassing was surprising, to say the least.

Silence engulfed them and Patricia nervously looked away from Justin's unwavering gaze. Her arm was still draped over his shoulder, her fingers gently coiling his curls.

"So..." Patricia began, the silence turning awkward for her, "What now?" Justin shrugged.

"Whatever you want," Justin said softly. Patricia glanced at his lips, pink and pout as they were, before shyly staring at his chin, the only part of his body that wasn't intimidating.

"I think we should finish up studying," Patricia said, her body aching with disagreement, "You've got that big exam and your parents will be home tonight and I still have to get this kitchen mopped up and sweep the porch..." Justin couldn't deny the disappointment in his gut, but he placed his smile on. He wasn't going to pout and guilt her into anything. Patricia would come around at her own pace.

"You're right, let’s finish up," he agreed, bending down to kiss her forehead. He closed his eyes as he did so, taking in the sweet menthol of her hair. Patricia felt cold when he finally pulled away, his body no longer lining hers. He stepped back to give her ample space to stand up and release the sink. Her palms were red and sweaty as she wiped them on her gray skirt. She looked down as she did so because Justin was still watching her.

Patricia wished she could just look at him for more than half a second at a time. He was so beautiful and deserved the admiration, but her stomach always got knotted up and filled with butterflies when she looked at him. It was frustrating to be so shy. Like Justin said, she wanted to take him in too.

"You okay?" Justin asked, watching her finally finish wiping off her hands and staring at the ground. It had taken too long for her to do such a small task and the frown on her face made him concerned.

"Yes," Patricia answered automatically, looking up at him for just a moment. The kitchen light illuminated the bright blue of his eyes and she glanced away, internally kicking herself. "Lets go hit the book." Justin raised a brow, but didn't say anything as she started towards the kitchen door. He did, however, take her arm to slow her down for a moment. Patricia looked at him, confused by the disruption of her stride, but Justin simply smiled and glanced down between them as they walked side by side.

Patricia thought to do the same, but she felt it. She felt his hand slip around her arm, sliding down to her hand. His oversized palm rested against hers before he slid his long fingers between her short ones, locking them together. It seemed like the butterflies were replaced by hummingbirds in her stomach and the uneven thumping of her heart made her stop walking for a moment.

"Is that okay?" Justin asked when she just stared at their hands. He glanced down, taking in the difference of shade, shape, and size.

"Yes..." she said softly, something in her building up in the deepest depth of her stomach. "It's different, I guess."

"You'll get used to it," Justin assured, having already planned to hold her hand at any given opportunity, "It's a nice kind of difference though, right?" Patricia nodded, giving his hand a squeeze. It was so warm and soft that it heated up her entire body. The sheer size of his hands and the way they overpowered hers made her feel safe, like he could protect her from anything - even the world. After all, those were the same hands that put Shane in the hospital. They were the same hands that rose to silence his mother whenever she would verbally attack Patricia. Those were also the same hands that made her skin tingle where he caressed or rubbed her...

"We need to really get to work, Justin," Patricia said, clearing her throat and fighting off a small smile. She felt like she would burst in the sudden rush of giddiness running through her. "Your parents will be mad if I don't finish the house."

"Then lets finish the house first," Justin suggested, "We got a lot of studying out of the way. We can do some work and then get back to it." Patricia liked that idea, but glanced towards the large window in the living room, covered in beige, lace curtain. The sun had turned down for the day, living the sky in a bright array of purples and oranges, even hints of pink.

"It's gettin' late," Patricia said, "I oughta get the porch swept. I need to make it home soon." Justin nodded, not letting go of her hand. She stopped walking for a moment, giggling a bit. "I need both hands to clean, Justin." He shook his head.

He gently kissed along her knuckles before reluctantly releasing her. "I'll get the mop then." Patricia went to argue, but he pressed a finger to her lips. "It'll get the work done faster and then I'll walk you home." Patricia shook her head.

"No," she managed to say against her finger before he laughed as she swatted his hand away playfully. "Seriously, I don't want you walking me home. You're grounded anyway."

Justin shrugged. "Being grounded is meaningless. It's gettin' dark."

"I've walked home in the dark before," Patricia said defiantly, "I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that," Justin smile that crooked smile she adored, "But... I really just want to walk you."

"Not all the way," Patricia said, feeling worry build up. A white boy walking her home would be the talk of her town. Penny lived a block away and if Penny heard, the whole black community would be down Patricia's throat looking for answers. No, he would not be walking her home tonight or any night, for that matter.

"Fine, part way," Justin agreed, rolling his eyes when she raised a brow that spoke volumes, "I promise - No, I swear I'll only walk you halfway."

"Thank you," Patricia sighed, "Lets get to cleaning. Maybe we can squeeze a book in before we go." Justin rolled his eyes again when Patricia turned towards the kitchen, sashaying all the way. He watched the way her hips moved from side to side. Patricia turned and glanced over her shoulder, smiling bashfully and Justin couldn't stop the smile that spread along his face. Patty soon disappeared outside the front door to begin her sweeping. Justin stood in the center of the living room, smiling like a fool where she left him. His heart fluttered in his chest like hummingbird wings and he bit his bottom lip, turning back towards the kitchen quickly. Justin had never been more anxious to clean in his life. The faster the job, the sooner he'd be at her side, walking her home and holding hands...

Justin stopped midway in the kitchen, looking up at the beige ceiling. He hadn't been to church the way he should and it had been a while since choir, but he cleared his throat and looked up, closing his eyes for just a moment.

"Lord, I know ain't been that great a Christian, but all good men fall at times," he said, "You've given me a lot, Lord, but I just want this one thing and it's not even for me. I just want Patty to have all those things she wanted. Her mama gettin' better and all... And if you have some time for me, could you let me have her, Lord? Not like that, really, but in the good kind of lovin' way. The love you like...ya know?" Justin opened one eye and glanced about the room before closing it. "Anyway, that's about it. Thanks, Jesus."

With a sigh and a smile, Justin carried on with getting the chores done, hoping God had heard him and would give him what he wanted. If not tomorrow, than the next day. If not the next day, than next year. Justin felt like he'd wait forever if he had to.

Patty stood by her locker, waiting on Penny to get out of class. Kids were hustling throughout the hall, their conversations mashed together in a loud buzz. Patricia was hardly hearing it or seeing the people whizz by or toss a paper ball or shove one another laughing. She had quite the confession to make: although it was tradition to wait by her locker for Penny so that they could head down to the cafeteria together, she wasn't really just standing there for that. After four years in this torturous school, seeing her best friend wasn't what was forcing her lips into a smile, oh no... there was something more...or rather, someone.

"Monkey!" was the last Patricia heard before the books she had clinging to her chest were violently slapped down, scattering all over the floor. Her lab sheets due at fifth period and the notebooks she had shamefully written 'JT + PH' throughout were spread all over the floor. The boys were already mixed into the crowd before she could identify them, but their laughter howled through the halls with some of the other white students. Patricia's happy mood dampened immediately and her face burned with embarrassment as she tried to push the high emotion of tears from overwhelming her.

"I swear to the good Lord, Patty, I'mma find all of 'em and kick 'em right where the sun don' shine!" That rant couldn't belong to anyone besides her best friend and Penny was sure enough knelt down, picking up the last notebook from the floor before Patricia could move.

"Thanks," Patricia said, whether it was for the book or the threat, she wasn't sure. Penny stood, dusting off her pastel pink dress that shaped out her tall, lean frame. Patricia could never where that, not with her hips and excessive bottom. Her soft belly would get in the way too. Penny was tight and toned. She ran cross-country and Patricia could probably run three solid blocks before passing out.

"These people got me all types of bothered and I just got this done," she said angrily, gesturing toward her freshly straightened hair. It was shiny and dark, and curled at the tips, resting nicely at her shoulders. Patty self-consciously smoothed down one of her two pigtails.

"Well, you still look gorgeous, girl, so it don't even matter, right?" Patricia said. Penny rolled her eyes and they started off towards the cafeteria. Patricia trailed slightly behind as the black boys stole glances at Penny as she walked along, ranting at her date with Eddie. Patricia didn't hear a word; all she saw was the sharp contrast in the way the boys looked at her in comparison to how they gawked at Penny.

"Are you listening to a word I'm saying?" Penny said, turning around to see Patricia was two feet behind. "Girl, I'm spilling my guts out and you're in Alaska back there. Come up here for Pete's sake!" Patricia went to walk up, excusing herself to the kids still lingering in the hall after the second bell rung.

"Patricia!" Her feet stuck to the ground, her whole body froze. Penny's face contorted much like the other students. Patricia knew she wasn't hallucinating when he popped up in front of her, dressed in his white button up and navy slacks. Even the blue of his pants brought out his eyes more. Patricia hadn't seen him since last week. His mother had said she wasn't needed for the week and Patricia had grown wary that she had somehow found out about their... study session. It still made her blush to think about, but she had thought about it all week. Especially since he kept to himself and his white friends at lunch, the only time they could see each other. Now he was standing in front of her, holding out a piece of folded paper. Everybody in the hall seemed to be staring.

"Wh-what are you d-doin'?" she managed to spit out. Justin glanced about, smirking slightly.

"I'm giving you a list of things my mama wants you to get before you come to work this afternoon. Franklin's Deli has her tab already, so just show Frank the note and he'll let you leave without paying." Patricia felt her chest deflate, feeling disappointed, but relieved at the same time. She wouldn't put it past Justin to just come up and say hello like it was normal, but a very small part of her wished it wasn't all just business when they did speak in public. She took the list; nevertheless, hoping it wasn't too long.

"Okay, I'll see you later then," Patricia said, wanting to cease the awkwardness. People had already gone their way once they saw the exchange was just work related. Justin, however, stayed put for just a moment longer. Patricia shifted beneath his gaze before he looked her over, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. The corner of his pouty pink lips twitched in an attempt not to smile before her body flamed.

"See ya," he mumbled, soft and velvet as he only could. He tucked his hands into his pockets before brushing past her, the fabric of his button up briefly grazing her arm. Penny stood in the emptying hall, her hands on her hips in an annoyed stance.

"Why can't his lazy ass mama go to the store herself?" she ranted. Patricia's hazy mind cleared as he looked up at her scowling best friend. "In fact, why can't the white boy do it for her? Leavin' a lady to carry bags..."

"It's not his fault," Patricia defended weakly, "Penny I'm gettin' paid to make their lives a little easier. Groceries ain't much to ask for."

"What about their lives are hard?" Penny asked rhetorically, "Havin' everything handed to ya must be tough!" She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Patricia laughed, linking their arms and dragging Penny up the hall.

"You're gonna have a stroke one day," Patricia giggled, "Justin's nice, trust me."

"Whatever..." Penny mumbled off, "I'm starvin'." With that, they quickly headed to the cafeteria as Penny continued on about Edward. Patricia was half aware of what she said -- Edward had taken her out twice since last Friday and had cooked her breakfast Saturday morning. They had lemonade on his porch steps later that night and he kissed her after church Sunday morning. Patricia had paid the most attention to that part, asking questions of what he did and it felt, but the conversation ceased when they joined their table, Edward having saved Penny a seat beside him. Patricia had to look away when they shared a brief kiss, making the entire table hoot and holler. Her stomach knotted up as she glanced over her shoulder to Justin's table. He was nowhere in sight and she quickly turned back to her friends, trying not to frown as Edward draped his arm around Penny's shoulders because that could never be her and Justin.

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"Patty, when am I gonna see ya, girl? You always work..." Patricia sighed and shrugged as her and Penny trailed to their halfway point.

"You're seeing me now," Patricia smirked, holding the folded list in her hand from Justin. She had yet to look at it, hoping it wasn't heavy. She only had so much arm strength.

"You know what I mean," Penny said, smacking her lips, "I'm going up north for school... I'mma miss my bestie." Patricia glanced over at her friend, seeing her pout in full swing. Patricia would miss her too - she was her better half; everything she wish she could be. Who would get her jokes? Who would do her make-up and not get mad when she said she felt ridiculous?

"Girl, we might as well get used to not seeing each other," Patty sighed, turning back to look at her friend. Penny had stopped walking to stand there and pout at their departing corner. Patricia halted her movements, turning back to her with a small smile. "Now don’t go makin’ ‘em faces. You knew it was gonna happen. We’re never gon’ see each other once ya up North, gettin’ that fancy education of yours. You won’t even ‘member me. ‘Specially if Mr. Eddie’s up there, doin’ his Broadway thing."

"Oh, Patty," Penny whined, "Why ain’t sad ‘bout this? Ain’t you gon’ miss me?" Patricia looked away, feeling a bubble in her throat. She shrugged though, looking at Penny with the best, warm smile she could muster.

"It hasn’t even happen yet," Patricia pointed out, "I’ll miss ya when you’re gone – I promise." Penny rolled her eyes, waving her off as she headed in the opposite direction.

"Be careful with them groceries. You don’t want them white folk to starve," Penny tossed over her shoulder before laughing out loud, "On second thought – "

"Penny!" Patricia scolded, listening to her cackle as she rounded the corner, smiling herself. She shook her head, knowing she’d miss that noise before she went into work mode. Her legs automatically hustled forward as she walked alone down the dirt road. She just needed to cross this old lot and she’d be behind the old General store and as soon as she finished there, she could be with Justin… see his face.

That prospect nearly made her tear open the list in her hand, but she calmed herself, slowly unraveling it. As the folds detached another folded paper fell out, silently hitting the group by her Mary Jane shoes, which were covered in dust she’d need to wipe off before getting to the Timberlakes’. Patricia bent down to retrieve it with a heave, quickly continuing onward as she looked over the list. Just milk, eggs, chicken and steak from the butcher up the road from Frank’s, and lemons were listed. Patricia was grateful that it wasn’t a mile long, but she then remembered the other paper; maybe Mrs. Timberlake ran out of space and needed two sheets. The very idea of such a heavy task made Patricia want to toss the other note and pretend she never saw it – it did fall out, technically speaking. She could pretend she hadn’t noticed and continued on, but Patricia couldn’t lie to anybody, herself included, so she opted to open up the other folded piece.

Instantly, she noticed the script differed from that of Mrs. Timberlake’s proper style – the crisp, Sunday school teacher cursive writing script. This writing was loopier and bigger. It was also written halfway in print and halfway in cursive – a habit of Justin’s writing type. Patricia had noticed during her study sessions or when she cleaned his room and gently ran her fingers against the lettering of notebooks he had left all over his desk.

Just knowing he wrote anything to her meant world, even if it was his own grocery list, but Patricia’s eager eyes landed on a short poem:

Patricia stared at the page, her eyes unbelieving. Maybe she had imagined this entire moment. She read the four lines over and over again. Justin’s loopy letters never changed and a smile broke across her face as she folded up the paper and tucked it securely in her notebook, pressed against her chest. Patricia giggled to herself, her cheeks warming as she replayed the poem in her head and ran to the General store.

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Patricia had tucked her notebook in the bag with the lemons. The meat was weighing her down as she crossed the busy street to get to the lot again. She couldn’t get the poem out of her head, even as the sun beamed down on her, feeling unseasonably warm. It gave her an excuse to be beaming as well. Maybe people would think she was appreciating the southern warmth instead of the poem from the lovely boy who wants to kiss her and thinks about her…

Patricia jumped when a horn blared so loudly it felt as though the car was on top of her. She closed her eyes, preparing to be run over, but the force never came. She did, however, feel the heat of the mental bumper against her exposed calf before she opened her eyes slowly, embarrassed and afraid of the driver. It was a fancy Chevrolet, cream colored and owned by a white man, more than likely. She would’ve had hell to pay had she not recognized the man behind the wheel.

"Mister…umm…. Mister Timberlake?" Patricia inquired as he leaned out his driver’s window, gesturing for the car behind him to go around.

"Get out the street, ya stupid nigger!" came a shout of the passing driver’s window. Patricia winced as the car sped away. She felt her warmth simmer down to nothingness as her eyes stung with tears. Her embarrassment deepened as Mr. Timberlake idled in the road.

"Don’t worry ‘bout ‘em!" he called out to her a moment later. "Ya workin’ tonight?" Patricia nodded, taking a deep breath as she relaxed her shoulders.

"Yes, sir," she answered, "I’m sorry for gettin’ in the way. I’ll keep your steak warm for when ya get home." She was almost to the other side of the road when he called again.

"Patricia!" She turned back; he was leant back smoothly in his caramel leather seat. His softly curled hair was waving back from a good combing and his white business shirt was hiked up to his elbows. Patricia saw him as Justin in twenty years though his face still held his youth in the way his eyes glowed in the sunlight. He gestured his head toward the passenger side. "Come on in and ride with me. I’m headin’ home anyway. No sense in you walkin’ in this heat." Patricia was stumped, glancing around to make sure she was hearing him right.

"Pardon me?" she inquired, fully on the other side now. Mr. Timberlake gestured for the cars doubled up behind him to go around again. The drivers seemed annoyed, shooting Patricia glares.

"Now come on, child, I’m making a mess of cars out here. The quicker we’re home, the quicker I eat!" Mr. Timberlake beamed, gesturing toward the passenger side again. Patricia looked up the road both ways before slowly making her back to his car. He watched her with a warm smile, leaning over the seat to unlock the door. Patricia stood at the passenger door now, glancing at the backseat and then at him.

"Do you want me to ride in the back?" she asked innocently. His booming laugh was huskier than Justin’s, but almost identical.

"Just hop on in, Patty; it’ll be all right." Patricia wasn’t so sure and she took a deep breath before checking around to make sure there were no eyes on her. She saw a few glances, even a set of ladies outside the saloon, smoking and staring. She felt like everybody was watching her and it wasn’t until Mr. Timberlake reached back over and unhinged the door, pushing it open to gently tap her leg that she came back to reality.

"Patty, let’s go," he said, "I’m wastin’ gas." Patricia didn’t want Mr. Timberlake to be angry with her so she finally slipped inside, placing the groceries between them as she sat in her seat, the warm leather heating up the backs of her thigh and neck. She reached over and pulled the door shut, the slam being much louder than she wanted it to be, but Mr. Timberlake sped off before she could clearly see the reactions of their departure.

"So I’ve gone to see Dr. George Hemans," Mr. Timberlake started, reaching over Patricia’s lap to open his glove department. Patricia didn’t breathe, not wanting to get in the way as he fiddled. "Ya ever heard of him?" Patricia waited for him to grab his pack of cigarettes and sit back before answering.

"No, sir," she said, "But I reckon he must be a fine doctor if you’ve spoken to him."

"Oh, he is," Mr. Timberlake assured, having lit his cigarette by the time she replied. He tossed the empty pack into the backseat of his car, "He might be able to help your mama." Patricia’s heart jerked in her chest.

"Oh, that would be wonderful if he could," Patricia said, not being able to stop the smile on her face. She couldn’t remember the last time her mama had slept through the night without a hacking cough and sweating fits. She seemed to have gotten worst over the last week. Maybe it was because Patricia was too busy with Justin in her mind to be as attentive. Her stomach ached with guilt.

"He can and he will," Mr. Timberlake assured, blowing a long stream of smoke from his nostrils. The smell was overwhelming and it made Patricia’s eyes water, but she just turned her face toward the passenger window, letting the warm wind caress her face. "I’ve set up an appointment with him for tomorrow night. You think you can be there for that?" Patricia’s heart sank a little when she realized it was a doctor’s visit that wouldn’t come free – especially from a rich doctor Mr. Timberlake recommends.

"I’d love to have Dr. Hemans come over, but we can’t afford –"

"Money is not an issue, dear," Mr. Timberlake told her gently, finishing off his cigarette, "The bill is in my name. I just want your mama on her feet again. I know how hard you’re working – Justin told me you do everything for your brother and mother. No young lady should have to suffer so much. You need to be enjoying yourself." Patricia bit her bottom lip, feeling her eyes well up with tears. There was a pressure in her chest like she couldn’t hold down. Her warm tears streaked down her face and she quickly wiped them away. She could see where Justin got his kindness from; his understanding and sweet words.

"Mr. Timberlake, sir, you have no idea how much this means to me," Patricia said softly, sniffling and wiping away tears.

Mr. Timberlake gave a quick glance to her tear stained face before gently panting her knee. "It’s okay, dear. No need to be upset. This is good news."

"And these are happy tears," Patricia assured with a soft smile. "I’m so thankful…"

"I know, which is why I’m doing this," he told her, "You really appreciate what people do. You’ve always been respectful, even to my wife and we both know she’s not the easiest to get along with." They shared a laugh over that and Patricia was relieved to know he had noticed her unkindness.

"You’ve always be so nice to me and mama, Mr. Timberlake," Patricia smiled, "I feel like I can’t even give you something in return. Especially for something like this…"

"Sure you can me lots of things," he argued jokingly, "You can make me the best damn steak in Tennessee tonight. How ‘bout it?" Patricia laughed and nodded, wiping off the last of her tears.

"I can definitely do that," she smiled, "But thank you again."

"No, thank you…for that delicious steak!" Mr. Timberlake howled with laughter, nearly sending Patricia into hysterics herself as the slowly pulled up his street. She hadn’t even realized they made it to their destination so soon. She wiped her face more quickly now, trying to look presentable enough for Justin without seeming too anxious. Mr. Timberlake parked with ease behind his other car – a black Camero – before grabbing all of the grocery bags, leaving Patricia bag free.

"I can carry som-"

"I’ve got it," he interrupted, "Just get the door." He jingled the keys dangling off his pinky finger. She took them hesitantly and glanced up at him for reassurance. He gently closed the car door with his foot before gesturing up the stairs. "Go on now," he encouraged and Patricia felt the weight of the keys as she hurried to the top of the stairs.

She had seen Justin open the door a million times, so she recognized the key in the mist of the hundreds that seemed to hang from Mr. Timberlake’s key loops. Patricia wished it was her house for a moment when she stuck the key in the door, but that dream was immediately shattered when the door was swung open by such force that Patricia stumbled forward, losing her grip on the keys that stayed attached to the door.

The vicious and seemingly permanent scowl on Mrs. Timberlake’s face was directed at Patricia and then turned to her husband. "What the devil is going on?" she asked, her stern voice freezing Patricia into place as if she were guilty. Mrs. Timberlake’s furious eyes narrowed in her direction. "Did I not send you to the market?" she sneered and Patricia looked back at Mr. Timberlake who was swiftly rolling his eyes.

"Dear, please; don’t you feel the weather?" he asked, "It’s hotter than the belly of snake on desert ground. No time for all this nonsense –"

"But you’re carrying all this stuff by yourself and it isn’t fair for me to pay her if you’re doin’ all her work," Mrs. Timberlake whined, ruffling her skirt angrily. "Oh, she’s nothing like her mother, Randall! Nothin’ at all! She’s just a lazy nig –"

"Lynn," Mr. Timberlake said gently, but with authority. Patty had already turned to stare at the polished wood of the porch. Her eyes were glassed over. He turned back to his wife, cooing to her, "I’ve already got my foot in the door, dear. What’s complaining gonna do?"

"But –" Mrs. Timberlake started, but Mr. Timberlake shook his head to silence her.

"Not another word, Lynn, ‘cause I wanna eat," he smirked, lifting his elbow and leaning over enough to graze Patricia’s shoulder, "The quicker we get in the quicker I get my steak, ain’t that right young lady?" Patricia took a deep breath, still embarrassed, but less afraid. She nodded.

"Yes, sir," she answered meekly before turning back to Mrs. Timberlake’s never ending scowl, "And I’m sorry, Mrs. Timberlake. I offered to carry them, but he insisted." Patricia heard the tone she used just as Mrs. Timberlake’s eyebrow twitched. She didn’t sound very sorry at all, but she most certainly didn’t owe Mrs. Timberlake an apology. Mrs. Timberlake curled her lip back to spew her venom, but Mr. Timberlake chimed in.

"I most certainly did," he confirmed before Mrs. Timberlake could argue, "Now, darlin’, I’d love to put these things down and change into my house slippers." Mrs. Timberlake slowly tore her eyes from Patricia’s profile (Patricia had smoothly turned to look away when Mrs. Timberlake almost went into her vent) and she sighed, never being able argue with her husband. Lynn felt like she did when she meant him in church all those years ago; young and naïve.

She loved him too much to spoil his dinner, even if she couldn’t stand the lazy maid she paid to do nothing – at least that’s what it seemed like to her. Patricia spent too much time laughing with her son and not carrying groceries. A little sweeping and cooking didn’t make her perfect, despite her husband’s inability to hate her as much as she did. Mrs. Timberlake was convinced his love for Patricia’s mother left him defenseless against her almost identical (with the exception of her health and youth, and housekeeping skills) daughter. Just a minor soft spot, she thought, one that over time would fade so he’d be able to see things more clearly.

She didn’t like it, but she moved from the doorway, gesturing for him to trot through. Patricia waited for the mistress to follow, but Mrs. Timberlake waited and watched her husband trail through the living room and disappear into the kitchen before whipping her head back to Patricia, hissing quietly, "Don’t think for a minute I don’t see what you’re doin’," she said, jabbing her finger in Patricia’s confused face, "You won’t be able to play cute much longer, nigger! I’m not payin’ you to stand around while my husband picks you and carries groceries I sent you out to get. The next time I see something like that, you better trust that I’ll –"

"Patricia, could you get the steaks started!" Mr. Timberlake’s voice came booming from the kitchen, resounding out onto the porch where Patricia stood, sweating and grateful for the disruption.

"I should get dinner started, Miss…" she mumbled to her Mary Jane shoes. Mrs. Timberlake turned back into the house without a word, her fancy heels clicking furiously. Patricia let go of the breath she was holding, never more grateful to get to work. The steak would make her forget that face and those words she hated.

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Justin tried to look preoccupied with his geometry as he leant his head against his palm, resting on his arm for support. His textbook was wide open, notebook laid halfway over it, and he even had a pencil in hand, but he had yet to answer question one of his twenty question take home exam. How could he be worried about mindless octagons and square feet when there were so many shapes (or rather shapely objects) to hold his attention?

Plus that steak that was searing against the pan smelled so good his stomach was clawing at it. Justin wish he could blame the food for the entire lurching of his gut, but his hunger was deeper than the pit of his stomach. At some points it didn’t feel much deeper than his groin, but other times it felt like something was yanking at his chest…Then he thought about her chest and the way it squished against his body when he pressed up against her in the kitchen.

His eyes shifted to the basin where she had casually washed dinner plates as he finished up his English homework, something he now looked forward to because they had conversations and laugh. Math and science wasn’t Patricia’s specialty, so she quietly moved about the kitchen to let him work in piece. She was so considerate and he was wasting that kindness to let his eyes languidly travel back to her hips, watching as they swayed. The dress she wore didn’t have a bow like the others, but there was a band high at her waist, pinching her in a bit. When he could see her front, he’d run his eyes along that same band, thanking it for being so perfectly placed below her plush breasts.

"Justin?" Patricia’s voice added to the tension in his lower abdomen and he jumped from the jolt her voice caused up his spine. Patricia looked at him wearily, stopping short her walk towards the island where he sat on his stool. He smiled a bit to ease the awkwardness.

"Sorry, I was just… concentrating so hard on these stupid problems…" It wasn’t a complete lie, he convinced himself, he was concentrating…and hard.

"Well, okay…" Patricia mumbled, "I don’t mean to bother you, but I’m makin’ something a lil’ different tonight. I wanted to know if you’d like to test it out first. I don’t want your mama gettin’ any angrier with me." Justin rolled his eyes, grunting as he pushed himself up from the stool. Patricia watched as his muscles flexed beneath his short sleeved cotton button up, striped in red and green. He looked like Christmas, Patricia had first thought, and she meant it well. Christmas was her favorite holiday and Justin would be her favorite gift if she could have him.

"Don’t you worry ‘bout my mama. She’ll come ‘round," Justin assured, slowly making his way around the island, glancing back towards kitchen’s entrance to make sure nobody was coming or going. Patricia looked as well for a moment, to reassure that they were okay, that Justin slowly approaching her wasn’t being watched.

"I highly doubt your mama will come around," Patricia mumbled, tearing her eyes away from the entrance in time to watch Justin stop in front of her, close enough to get them into trouble should anybody walk in the door. She felt herself recoiling, even though he smelt good and the peach fuzz growing along his jaw looked like it would feel nice rubbing up against her skin…

"Did you get my note?" Justin whispered to her softly, his breath smelled like the pear he was eating earlier. Her mouth watered at the prospect of that said pear being the flavor of his soft, pink lips…Then she remembered the question and the sweet poem she wanted sewn on the sleeve of her favorite sweater.

"It was very sweet," Patricia shyly responded, staring at the red buttons of his shirt, "Nobody’s written anything to me before."

"Well I wrote about a million other ones before I finally just gave you that one -" Justin cut himself short when Patricia's wide eyes met his. Maybe he had said too much? His cheeks flared with a red he was certain didn't flatter him. "Umm...yeah..." Patricia smiled when he looked away, seemingly embarrassed with his cherry blush.

"That's so... thoughtful," Patricia awkwardly comforted, "I mean... That's a lot of trouble over me and I appreciate that... I'd love to read 'em all if you'll let me." Justin hesitantly glanced back down at her, still wanting to kick himself, but she looked sincere, biting her bottom lip like he liked.

"Okay..." he said softly, "I can give 'em to you tomorrow. I left the notebook at school." Patricia nodded, their exchange becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. They were discussing reading love poems he wrote for her, of all people. His one poem made her entire being flame, let alone a notebook of them. Patricia's stomach knotted up at the surrealism of the situation. Justin Randall Timberlake, rich, handsome, and white as he was wrote a notebook of poetry for her.

She shook her head subconsciously. Justin smirked as he watched her, curious. "What?" he asked and Patricia shrugged, turning back to the stove once she remembered she was cooking. She winced a bit when she forked up the last steak from the pan, the bottom side being a lot browner than intended. Hopefully Mrs. Timberlake wouldn't notice.

"Dang it!" Patricia hissed beneath her breath, turning off the heat completely. Who was she kidding? Mrs. Timberlake would surely notice.

"I'll take that piece," Justin offered from behind her. Patricia smiled over her shoulder meekly.

"Thanks," she sighed, "I just don't want your mama having a heart attack over it."

"You worry too much about my mama," Justin said as she turned back to the stove, wiping it down with a rag she grabbed from the oven door handle.

"You don't worry enough," Patricia said back, but Justin had easily found her cleaning to be enticed, the way she moved her entire body in sync with her circular cleaning motion. Justin glanced back at the door once more to assure their solitude before he moved up closer once she stood up straight. He hugged her around her waist, eliciting a small gasp from her soft mouth. He pulled her body flush against him; her back against his chest and her bottom pressed against his crotch. Her scent was overwhelming, menthol and honey sweetness.

"Damn you smell good," he whispered, bring his other arm around her waist as well, fully hugging her from behind. He ran his nose over her woven hair and down the side of her face, his lips grazing her ear. He felt her tremble against him and it overwhelmed him to have that sort of effect on her.

"You're tryna get us killed, aren't you?" Patricia said softly. He felt her shaky hands rest against his forearms, running over his skin. His trembled at her innocent, gentle touch.

"I'd die happy at least," he said softly, "You feel so good just like this, Patty. This is nice." He was in a happy place littered with sexual tension and honest feelings. He could hold her this way, but he wanted to see her face. With that in mind, he slowly pulled back to spin her around to face him. Patricia clumsily tripped over her own feet, staring at his chest when he caught her and held her in place. Justin smiled, pressing his hand against her cheek. It was as hot as his face felt.

"I've got two left feet," Patricia mumbled to his Christmas button up, "That's what my mama says."

"I don't mind," Justin assured, lifting her chin with the pad of his index finger. Her face was so smooth and beautiful. He loved the browns of his eyes against the brown of her skin. He loved the way her lashes, long and luscious, curled and gave her doe eyes. He especially loved the way she bit her bottom lip nervously, completely unaware of what that simple gesture did to him.

"Your daddy told me something good today," Patricia said, rambling as he watched her face, glancing at her mouth as it molded around her words, "'Said he's gonna get a real good doctor to look after my mama." Justin smiled, running his thumb along her bottom lip. He swallowed when he felt the moist, soft flesh.

"That's great," he said distractedly and Patricia held her breath when he leant down and gently kissed the corner of her mouth. "I'm really happy for you..." His face was so close it blurred in her line of vision. She felt his peach fuzz stubble against her cheek; it felt better than she imagined. It was rough and prickly at first, but warm and less abrasive as his skin touched hers.

"M-me too..." she stammered, "I-I'm happy...that y-you're happy..." She wanted to smack herself for being so faint hearted. He was just standing there, close and strong and tall as ever. She felt so small, but in an entirely good way, like nothing could ever come and hurt her as long as he was there. Protected is what she felt - yes; protected. That was new, especially when who was protecting her was who she was taught to be her enemy. It was weird to look at Justin that way - threatening or even white. She didn't see him as a color or danger, but she never forgot the world's view of things. She never forgot what could happen if the world found out.

Justin stroked her cheek with his thumb, eyeing her mouth without a hint of shame, except for the cherry tint of his cheeks. Patricia was starting to adore that color. "I've been thinkin'..." Justin said softly, his warm breath caressing her lips, "There's this place I've been wantin' to take you to..." Patricia pushed down the excitement in her belly because any place was a public place and they couldn't go anywhere without trouble.

"You know we can't go anywhere," Patricia said just as softly, disappointed by the world because she'd give anything to watch a movie or hold his hands like things were normal.

"It's not just anywhere," Justin smirked, "It's a secret place." Patricia's interest peeked and she searched his eyes as his smile grew slightly wider.

"A secret place?" She could hardly believe there could be secrets in such a small town. "Where?"

"Some place real special to me," Justin answered evasively, a mischievous smile spreading across his face, "I used to go there all the time. It's open, but I could hide there for hours and nobody would ever see me." Patricia found this place enticing, but she couldn't even figure out a time in her mind where she could escape to go to this secret place. Her life revolved around school, work, and home. She didn't have fun or lazy around.

"I'd love to go with you, but I couldn't figure out how to find the time to -" Justin pressed his finger to her moving mouth, shushing her. She tasted the salt of his fingertip.

"Don't worry 'bout that," Justin said gently, "I'll get you away. I just need you to want to come along."

"Of course I want to come along -" Patricia started before being interrupted again.

"Then it's settled," Justin smirked, "Just you and me tomorrow then, huh? And our secret place." Patricia let the chill run up her spine when he said 'our'. She was included; it was their secret place. He was taking her some place where they could be alone. She nervously bit her bottom lip again, not missing the way Justin watched her mouth as she did so. Her stomach quaked.

"Patricia!" The shrill cry of Mrs. Timberlake sent Justin and Patricia flying, their eyes alarmed and wide as they searched the kitchen for her, but let out a sigh of relief when they realized she was calling from the living room. Patricia glanced at Justin and he smiled, causing them both to burst out laughing.

"I'm comin', Mrs. Timberlake!" Patricia called back, hurrying out, but pausing at the kitchen door to giggle. Justin's whole body was still electrified from her and the near heart attack that accompanied the danger of being seen together. To watch her suppress her laughter before casually strolling out the kitchen made him chuckle at his own self. They wouldn't have to worry about surprising anything or being caught at his hideout. They could just be and the thought made his whole stomach swarm with butterflies.

Tomorrow was going to be more than interesting.

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Patricia was exhausted and her wore out Mary Janes were causing her feet to beg for mercy. It was as if they were walking forever, trudging through the light woods across the back parts of Justin's neighborhood. The trees blocked some sun, but rays still shined down on them, the tree tops created a heated cocoon of sorts. Her gray linen dress was sticking to her skin. She felt miserable and she was sure the mosquitoes were tearing up her skin as they moved down unstable land. Justin was sweating somewhat, but nothing in comparison to her. He was much more active and obviously more prepared for their mini-hiking expedition.

Patricia was too busy slapping away spider webs and greenery to dwell on his superior physicality. It wasn't until he slowed at the top of a risen section of the land did she acknowledge him. He turned, smiling brightly in his white, crisp polo; gesturing toward the break in the trees at a low pasture a few feet ahead. "We're here!" he announced, overjoyed. Patricia took in 'here' with careful eyes. There was the town's small lake a little ways away with low cut grass and flat rocks to sit on. There was even a wooden bench by the water she could image sitting on, watching the houses light up at night. Patricia also spotted a field of lilacs, seemingly out of place, surrounding a small, shack-like structure closer to where they stood. The windows were decapitated and the rickety screen door with holes all in the black mesh squeaked as the breeze slowly flapped it open.

Their secret place.

"Wow," she voiced, truly speechless because even if it wasn't a getaway home, it was still theirs. They were too far away to clearly be seen, but close enough to feel the safety of familiarity. There was a dock with a small fishing boat tied to it, floating in the lake. It would've been easier to cross the water, but Patricia was sure that would've been too obvious.

"Do you like it?" Justin asked, beaming. He had made the small jump down from where they were both standing to land on the lower grass. He turned and took the place in before facing Patricia.

Patricia looked him over; at the leaf in his cropped hair and the dirt stains in his polo and khakis. The amount of dirt and dust on his brown leather shoes made her want to shine them up immediately. He was still handsome though and she still felt small even though the unleveled ground made her unfairly taller than him in the moment.

"I feel... safe," Patricia answered and he cocked an eyebrow.

"You should," he smiled up at her, walking back under where she stood. He reached his arms out and she was baffled for a moment. "I'mma catch you. Just jump on down here with me." Patricia suddenly became self-conscious about her weight. She suddenly heard the rumors about white boys being weaker than black boys. She also remembered how strong and warm his hands were when he gripped her hips against his kitchen sink. Patricia would gladly fall so long as he had touched her in the process. Being in their secret place made her thoughts less embarrassing. It made her braver too.

"'kay, here I come," she announced, squatting a bit, trying to be as lady-like as possible. She was sure Justin could see up her skirt at this angle, but he kept his eyes glued to hers - almost too glued like he was making himself not look. The idea of him wanting to look up her skirt made excitement surge through her and her face warmed.

"I've gotcha," Justin cooed, moving up to reach and grab her hips with his oversized hands as she lowered herself. He heaved when she jumped down, gripping her tighter and hugging her down to him. They both stumbled back and laughed as they tried to balance.

"I thought you had me!" Patricia jokingly scolded as they stood up straight, still hugging chest to chest.

"You're in my arms, aren't you?" Justin pointed out, giving her waist a squeeze for emphasis. Patricia smiled shyly at him, feeling his heated body on hers, lined with sweat wherever their skin touched.

"I guess I am..." she mumbled, letting him look over her face as she turned away, staring off at the lake as the sun's reflection glistened in it. She was thankful for the breeze the water provided; it felt good against her slick skin. They were silent for a moment, unmoving. Patricia could still feel him staring at her before she even turned back to look him in the eyes.

"What are you thinkin' 'bout?" he asked quietly, staring at her intently with his gray-blue eyes.

"I'm wonderin' why you keep starin' at me," Patricia answered honestly, "I don't think there's much to look at." Justin's glow seemed to dim at her negativity and she tried to recover. "I'm not sayin' I'm real ugly or anything... I just... I dunno..." It was weird to defend herself, especially when she honestly didn't think it was wrong to be honest - she really didn't see herself as worthy of gawking. Her friends were the ones that were seen, never her. It was natural and logical to be aware of her mediocrity.

"I will never understand how beautiful people never see that beauty in themselves," Justin said simply, not quite addressing her.

"Well... do you think you're beautiful?" Patricia challenged, Justin shrugged.

"I wouldn't use the word beautiful to describe a man, but I wouldn't mind saying handsome... I don't think I'm the best thing walkin' God's earth, but I'd like to think I'm pretty important." Patricia bit her lip to stop herself from saying he was the best thing walking on God's green earth because she had never seen someone more beautiful in her life, but she kept it to herself, not wanting to say too much too soon.

"Well, you're important to me," Patricia said meekly, staring at his Adam's apple in the moment, "I mean... we've got a special place and all..."

"It is quite special," Justin voiced, "I've never taken anybody here before... I've never even told anybody about it." Patricia felt her heart swell with the weight of his secret place and his sharing of it with her.

"Thank you for sharing it with me," she told him, gently standing on her tip toes to kiss his cheek, which flamed up red again.

"N-no problem," he stammered, kissing her cheek in return. They started to sway to an imaginary beat as the wind continued to go by, cooling them.

Patricia wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes as she rested her ear to his chest, listening to the rapid pace of his heart beat. Justin let his hand rest on the curve of her bottom and the other hand caressed her shoulders and traced the woven stitching of her hair.

"So... what did you tell your mama about me missing work today?" Patricia asked, curious to know how he managed to get her to miss work without her having to speak to anybody. She was also starting to feel uncomfortably comfortable in his arms; it was almost too easy to be silent and close to him. Patricia couldn't do that with anybody. She always felt the need to fill up silence; she always feared the person would be bored with her.

"Well, I told her you were sick with stomach issues and would think it better to stay home today." Patricia wrinkled her nose as Justin laughed out loud. Patricia took the opportunity to slowly pull back from their embrace.

"As foul as that is, at least it worked," Patricia said, kicking a small batch of pebbles at her feet as she took a step back from where Justin stood, watching her movements.

"Yes and she wasn't much interested in details, so it was real easy," Justin explained, moving up to where Patricia was standing. He slowly ran his hands down her arms, past her wrists, to the tips of fingers. A chill ran straight through her before he raised both his hands, palms facing hers. Patricia imitated him as he looked at her expectantly. A second later he pressed his palms against hers, observing the difference in size and length before intertwining their fingers.

Again, they were silent. Patricia's heart was getting out of control. She was so nervous and they weren't doing anything, but she didn't know if that were a problem. Should they be closer? Was he okay with just hand holding? Was the dress she wearing too plain? Maybe she should've burrowed something, today was special after all.

She was too busy overthinking to see that Justin was slowly closing the space between them, gently folding their entwined hands inward between their bodies; the backs of her hands were against his abdomen. She felt the cotton of his shirt and the light caress of his lips against her neck. Her eyes closed as his mouth skimmed along her jaw and she took a deep breath when he brushed against her earlobe.

"I'm so happy you're here..." he whispered, kissing behind her ear sweetly. She licked her lips, but her entire mouth felt dry as he further kissed down her neck, making her tilt her head to the side as he moved lower, kissing along the collar of her dress. His hands detangled from hers, her arms falling to her sides as he hugged her body closer. He stopped his neck torture to kiss her chin, her cheek, and her nose. Patricia slowly opened her eyes to find him looking back, licking the taste of her salty skin from his lips.

Damn she was hot and now the lake breeze couldn't cool her. Justin holding her wasn't helping; Justin kissing her neck and face wasn't helping either. She needed a little space and her limp arms raised, her hands coming to rest against his chest in an attempt to push back, but she felt the strong outlines of his sculpted form, his skin heated and his heartbeat against her fingers. His eyes seemed to darken as he licked his lips. She watched his navy blue orbs trail down to her lips.

"Can I... I mean, is it okay - " Justin cut himself off with groan, closing his eyes momentarily. Patricia was confused.

"What is it?" she asked, her hands slipping down his chest accidently. His breath seemed to hitch because of it and Patricia dropped her arms to her side all together, "Sorry." Justin laughed at her apology.

"It's okay," Justin smiled, "It feels good when you touch me." Patricia's stomach tightened at his words.

"Oh..." she mumbled, knowing it wasn't the best response, but having nothing else to say. The idea of making Justin feel good with just a touch was surreal to her.

"Is it okay for me to say stuff like that?" Justin asked, "You're not uncomfortable, are you?" Patricia shrugged and looked down at the slither of space between them.

"I'm uncomfortable with everything, so that doesn't matter," Patricia said, trying to laugh at herself, but she was embarrassed by her lack of experience with all things physical.

"You'll get used to it," Justin assured gently, kissing her cheek to get her attention. She slowly lifted her eyes to his, "I'll ease you into this. We have a lot of time for us."

"Us?" Patricia asked. First they have their own special place and they were an 'us'.

"Yes, us," Justin smirked. Patricia fought the smile on her face, "Is that a problem? You don't like 'us'?" He poked her side and made her giggle.

"I dunno..." Patricia shrugged as best she could, glancing away, "I've never had an 'us' before...I mean, aren't we suppose to be...like...together?" Justin shrugged when she looked up. His blush was returning.

"I assumed we were there..."

"Where?" Patricia asked innocently.

"Ya know...a couple or something," Justin mumbled off, never once being one for titles. He suddenly felt like the inexperienced one as Patricia smiled sweetly at him.

"So... I'm like your girl or something, right?" she clarified.

"Right," Justin confirmed. Patricia giggled, not knowing how to take the news.

"All my friends kiss boys first before they're a couple," Patricia announced, glancing away, "We haven't done that." Justin removed a hand from her waist to lift her chin. Patricia was forced to look at him.

"We can change that now if you want," Justin said smoothly, running his thumb across her bottom lip. Patricia glanced at his mouth, feeling her fear overwhelm her.

"We could..." she said nervously. Justin stayed silent, watching. She wished he'd just kiss her and get it over with. She didn't want to have to say it. "Am I suppose to ask or something?"

"Is that your way of asking?" Justin smiled. Patricia rolled her eyes.

"I guess so..." she mumbled. He looked over her face, his hand skimming along her jaw. Patricia waited, the trees rustling in the breeze. Justin continued gazing at her and she was confused. Was it supposed to take this long? She wondered, but didn't want to ask.

"You seem impatient," Justin said teasingly, "These things are suppose to just happen."

"Then what's the point of me asking?" Patricia asked, confused.

"You didn't actually ask," Justin smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. Patricia furrowed her brows.

"What do you want me to do, Mr. Timberlake?" Patricia said, "Do a cheer or something?"

"You'd sure look cute in one of those cheering skirts," Justin pointed out, causing Patricia to blush.

"You're two eggs short of a dozen, I'm tellin' you," Patricia grumbled, letting him kiss her cheek next. She sighed when he kissed the corner of her mouth.

"I'm only crazy when it comes to you, Miss. Hurley," Justin said, leaning towards her again to kiss her other cheek. "And you still haven't asked, by the way..." Patricia could barely hear him before he was kissing on her jaw again, up to her ear.

"Justin..." she mumbled, not knowing what to say next.

"Yes?" he whispered back, kissing her ear.

"I'm not good at this kind of stuff..." she reluctantly confessed as he gnawed at her lobe. She moaned softly, her fingers running up the back of his neck to the base of his cropped hair. Justin's whole body reacted to her simple gesture; his skin flaring with surprised feelings. He never wanted anything, or rather anyone, so badly before, but he had to keep it together and not be overly aggressive. Patricia wasn't lying; she wasn't good with this kind of stuff.

"Fine," he said gently, pulling back from their embrace enough to see her eyes, "You don't have to ask... We can save that stuff for later..." Patricia furrowed her brows and Justin gave her a mischievous smile she couldn't quite understand.

"What does that mean?" she asked, but he ignored her, cupping her face in his warm hands. She held her breath, exhaling slowly when he rested his forehead against hers.

"Just close your eyes," he instructed and her lids obeyed before she could think to follow his words. He brushed his nose against hers and her breathing hitched, her heart thumping against her chest. She worried about her breathing and the softness of her lips. She worried if her breath smelled like the pear they shared halfway here; the same pear he bit and gave to her to bite and eat as well. She wondered if he tasted like pears and what a kiss felt like. She worried that her full lips were as big and ugly as some of the white kids said they were. She wondered until she felt a feather-like brush of flesh on flesh and her mind went blank when a slight pressure further meshed them together.

Patricia froze in place when Justin kissed against her top lip; his mouth warm and sweet. A chill ruptured within her core from the taste and feel of him. She sighed softly, parting her lips a bit. Justin felt her breath and pressed forward, deepening the kiss. He massaged her lips with his, feeling her fingers glide against the nape of his neck as she moaned into his mouth. His groin tightened at the sound of her and he groaned when she finally relaxed in his arms and pressed her mouth back against his.

Her compliance excited him; his lips picking up an urgent pace. Patricia further moaned, holding onto him tighter, gripping his hair a little stronger as she tried to get him closer. Justin, reluctantly, broke their kiss, taking a much needed breath. Patricia did the same, her lips tingling. She saw Justin's lips were pinker than before when she glanced down at his mouth. Justin watched her watch him and his body pushed him to carry on, but he knew he needed to slow down.

He brushed his lips on hers a second later, not being able to resist that much, but too scared to initiate another kiss. Patricia, however, pressed her lips against his and she tasted and felt better than he had remembered, his body reacting accordingly, pulling her closer and skimming his tongue against her bottom lip. She opened her mouth to him, her hesitance gone momentarily. His tongue laced with hers, gently coercing her to imitate his motions. She moved with him, slowly and deeply, her innocence evident in the way her fingers shook as she ran them through his cropped curls.

Her soft moans and light scraping of his scalp was almost too much with the feel of her lips. His stomach tightened as he felt the blood rushing to his lower half; their bodies too close together for him to deny what was happening. He couldn't push himself on her, knowing she'd feel him and not understand. As much as he wanted to teach her everything about what she did to him, he figured it was too soon, and against his body's wishes, he pulled back from their kiss. The moan of protest he elicited from her didn't help him, but he stood his ground, offering her one last, small kiss.

"I keep forgetting to take a breath," Patricia said, her chest slightly heaving as she licked her lips, a shy smile spreading across her face, "I like...kissing you..." Justin wanted to moan at the innocent look on her face, completely oblivious to the battle he was having internally. A part of him knew he could coerce her to do more than just kiss - he had his fair share of girls and though they all had a bit more experience than Patricia, some hadn't been particularly easy until he whispered all the things him and his friends would laugh about later.

He frowned at the thought of ever treating Patricia that way. He frowned for having treated girls that way. He knew Patricia wouldn't like that side of him, but he had never cared enough, especially since he felt entitled in his youth to do as he pleased. Patricia was different though. She made him want to go slow so he could appreciate every moment with her.

"I like kissing you too," Justin said, kissing her lips again for emphasis before pulling all the way back from her. Patricia pouted involuntarily, making Justin laugh. "Don't make that face. There's more of that to look forward to." Patricia looked away, fighting the smile on her face as she played with her hands.

"I didn't say anything," she said with a shrug, "I just figured that's what you wanted to do all day." Justin watched her shift her weight, her light gray dress moving against the breeze. Patricia finally raised her eyes to his and he smirked.

"Trust me, I want to, but we got some explorin' to do," he announced, reaching out for her hand. Patricia glanced down at his peachy palm and laid hers on top, letting him entwine their fingers. She stared down at their hands for a moment, not believing the difference in shades, out in the sun where God could see. It made her feel less afraid, less hidden.

"Explorin'?" she questioned after a second. Justin was watching her watch their hands, feeling the same way her face told him she was feeling: amazing, excited, and fearless.

"There's more to my secret place than this," he announced, there's a stream a little ways up and I know I left a couple fishing' rods up there -"

"Wait, we goin' fishing'?" Patricia asked, wrinkling her nose. Justin raised a brow and shrugged.

"What's wrong with fishing'?" Justin asked before scoffing at an idea, "Don't tell me you're one of those girls that can't get their hands dirty."

"I hiked down here, didn't I?" Patricia shot back, "Hell, I cleaned your room. Nothing’s dirtier than that!" Justin gasped in false offense.

"Whatever, woman," he said, leading her towards a path behind the decapitated shed, "I'll catch us somethin' and you can fry it up tomorrow." Patricia frowned, letting herself be dragged along.

"I'd much rather be kissin' you," Patricia announced and Justin shook his head.

"That's not gettin' you outta this," Justin said, kissing her knuckles as they moved along the grass and rock ridden dirt, "You'll have fun, trust me." Patricia gave his hand a squeeze, smiling to herself at his words.

"I trust you," she told him as she glanced away when he smiled at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze back.