Bittersweet


Bittersweet
You're gonna be the death of me
I don't want you, but I need you
I hate you and love you at the very same time . . .


My body burned and my arms were tired, but her moans and groans empowered me to keep going. My hips rocked into her supple body and all my muscles were tense and tingling from the feel of her body. Her nails dug into the skin in my back as she arched herself into me and purred sexily with her eyes squeezed shut. I would've smiled cockily if I weren’t about to fall over any minute and succumb to the pulse of her inner walls.

I slowed my pace, more for me than her, and melted into the wetness between her legs. I paused my actions long enough to get on my knees and place her full thighs over mine before I started up again. I watched her stomach rise and fall as she took deep breaths before my eyes traveled up to her breasts and admired the way they moved to the rhythm of our colliding bodies. Every bounce was in tune with every thrust.

When I caught a glimpse of her hands pulling at my sheets in ecstasy, I picked up speed. She gasped and whimpered and I was so turned on by her that I moved even faster, even more determined to make her reach her peak.

"Oh. . .shit. . ." She reached behind her and grabbed the pillow underneath her moving head. "Jay . . ." The moment she breathed my name, I leaned down and pressed my lips on hers, trying to show her everything I felt in a passionate kiss. I left us both breathless when we pulled apart, but she still managed to reach up and offer me another kiss. Hers we short and gentle, but her eyes were glued to mine. For a moment I thought I saw it, but it quickly faded and her eyes slid shut when she finally came. It took less than a second for me to follow and I rested my forehead on hers, allowing our breaths to mingle and our noses to touch as I softened inside of her.

I felt her hands run down the back of my neck and I shivered when the tips of her manicured names massaged my scalp gently. Every time she touched me I shivered. After all these years, she still made electricity shoot through me with a simple caress. Feeling her moist skin against mine in this very moment made my mind run rampant and my desires to stir up in the pit of my stomach.

We stayed together for a few more moments before I finally rolled off of her and fell to her side. As I lay on my back, I felt her shift until she was leaning on my chest and staring down at me, a small smirk across her face. Her caramel skin glittered with sweat and her hair was wild, but she was absolutely beautiful. The glow that could only be hers seemed to light up my dimly lit room just like the twinkle in her eye and the sparkle of her smile.

"I love you. . ." I told her a soft voice that was so full of sincerity that I scared myself. That's why I was so worried when the room got quiet and she just continued to look me in the eyes and breathe. I couldn't tell if she was happy or sad or angry or scared. She simply stared. Then, without a word, she scooted up toward my face and leaned down, placing her warm mouth on top of mine. I kissed her back, entangling my hands in her hair and inwardly sighing in content. It wasn't the reply I was hoping for, but it's better than nothing at all.

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I felt the spot beside me before opening my eyes and narrowing them to see through the sunlight. I turned and saw that the sheets were tangled around nothing, rather no one, else and me. As I nostalgically ran my hand over the spot she once occupied, I noticed a strand of her hair was still attached to the pillow next to me. I reached over and picked it up. I examined it in the air before slapping it back onto the bed and sighing heavily. I woke up as one of the things I hate the most.

Alone.

I honestly wasn't surprised. After waking up a million times this way, what's one more day? But what never seems to fade or lessen or simply disappear is the amount of hurt and disappointment that I feel.

Hurt that she didn't have the decency to at least say goodbye. Disappointed because I had allowed her to do this to me again. I should know better. Why did I let myself believe that this time would be different? How could I believe something so blatantly untrue? How could I put so much of myself into someone who gives as little as she possibly can?

I've gotten my heart broken by more women than I'd like to admit, but never in my life have I encountered a woman who could break my heart a million times over and still have me at her feet, willing to give her another try.

Maybe I'm just stupid. Maybe I deserve every ounce of pain she gives me because I bring it onto myself. Maybe love is really blind and can't see the poison its allowing to seep into itself. Maybe . . . maybe . . . I don't know. If I did, I doubt that I'd be lying here wondering where we both went wrong. I've searched my memories and came up empty handed every time, but I still look for the answer to why.

Why is she hurting me? Why can't I let her go?

I sighed again when I told myself the same answers I always did: Because you love her and she doesn't love you . . .

Takes Two To Tango


My hands ran over the glass that protected the photo of him and I together during my eighteeth birthday party. It was a few years back, but I could remember just how good he smelled and the way my heart trembled when he kissed me in front of everybody as he handed me my gift. His eyes were so bright and beautiful. His lips were soft and pink. And his smile. . . Oh, when he smiled, my heart stopped and I wondered if the world was worthy enough to have him walk on its earthy layers. Everything from his hair folicles to his toenails left me mesmerized. He was absolutely beautiful.

But he treated me like crap.

Shane Callahan was going to be the death of me. At first glance you would tell me I was lucky to be involved with a man that surpassed Greek god standards, but once you got to know him, the real him, you'd think otherwise.

Shane wasn't a bad person, if he was, I wouldn't have gotten involved with him in the first place, but when it comes to relationships, he sucks all hell. In the beginning, he swept me off my feet. Poetry, phone calls, the constant reminders of how much he loved me. But then, about four years ago, he stopped. Literally stopped. The 'I love you's changed to mumbled 'love ya's and the poetry was never even thought about, let alone written. And the phone calls? Why bother? We live together now and the only time he calls me is if I'm fucking him, which rarely happens now.

The sex was good, don't get me wrong, but he spent so much of his energy on the other bitches he calls 'friends' that he can't get it up for me. But that's okay. That's why I have Justin.

I know what you're thinking. Slut. Bitch. Hoe. Cheater. User. I heard it before and I don't deny it, hell, I've even called myself on it a few times, but it didn't start off that way. When I first met Justin, my intentions weren't to jump his bones. I honestly wanted a friendship. Shane left me at home so many nights crying and alone that I got sick of it and decided to go out. All I did was walk into a local Java Juice station and there he was, ordering the same mango drink I was going to get. We talked for a while as we waited for our orders and he asked me for my number, promising to call.

At first, I thought it was the typical way to get blown off and had no expections for us, but, surprisingly, my phone rang a few days later and it was him, asking if I wanted to chill. We hung out for a while, and actually became good friends for a year. But after a while, though I still saw him as just a friend and a distraction from my fucked up relationship, I knew Justin was interested in something more. He bought me lots of things from Tiffany's and took me out to fancy resturants Shane wouldn't even drive by when I was in the car, and as gold digging as it may sound, I liked it. I took everything he offered and would give him a kiss on the cheek that lingered longer than necessary or wore those jeans and knee boots he loved so much.

As I said before, it wasn't my intention to get involved with him, but I loved the attention he was giving me. The attention Shane didn't have the time to give. Then I started loving the affection Justin offered after he kissed me about a year into our shindig. I felt guilty after that because at that point, I could no longer tell myself that he just liked to give his friends things because he made it abundantly clear that friendship was out of the question when he frenched the hell out of me. But I stayed anyway, hoping that Shane would take notice to all the new things I had and the cologne Justin left on me after one of our nights out.

He never did, or maybe he did and just didn't say anything. Either way, he didn't care enough to say something and that made me even more depressed, so I took all my built frustration out on Justin in the best and worst way possible: sex. If Shane came home smelling like a frangrance I never wore a day in my life, I was at Justin's the next day, riding him like a horse. Whenever I bought a dress and modelled it for Shane, who'd simply grunt or mumble something about it being nice, I was at Justin's later that night, wearing that same dress that would be off minutes later.

The first few times Justin and I were together had been because I was angry or sad and needed something to keep me occupied and in euphoria for a while, but after that, I started to like it. Not just physically (I had liked it that way since day one), but emotionally. I started to appreciate his kisses more and admired how he handled me carefully, even if the sex was rough. It took me a while, but I finally noticed that look in his eyes when we were together. I started to see that with him, it wasn't just sex, it was making love.

I wanted to drop us right then and there because it was just too much of him going into whatever he thought we had, but at the same time, I didn't want to go back to sitting on the couch, waiting for Shane to come home or being at work, doing hair for hours and hours, watching the clock and praying time would stand still so I wouldn't have to go home.

Even when he whispered that he loved me two years ago after we had sex on his kitchen table, I still didn't leave. I just kissed him and smiled before I grinded into him and distracted him with my body instead of having to repeat those words.

I'm not all wrong here. I at least told him about Shane. Granted, it was two years after we met and about a month after I met his family, but at least I told him. He vowed to never speak to me again, but when I showed up at his doorstep crying because Shane locked me out of the house after I told him about what was going on between me and him, he let me in again. Back in his heart. Back in his bed.

A part of me wishes he had held his ground and turned me away. I would've missed him deeply and I probably would've been more depressed, but I would have at least respected him and maybe even appreciated him a little bit more. He might have been able to move on to somebody who actually deserved his body and his heart.

"Good morning to you too," I mumbled as Shane walked into our bedroom and didn't bother to acknowledge my presence as I rested beneath the covers.

"Oh, hey," he said quickly before continuing to rumage through our drawers.

"What are you looking for?" I asked as I yawned and stretched.

"Uh. . ." He opened and slammed another drawer shut.

"Uh. . ." I mocked.

"My tie," he grumbled in annoyance, "The silver one with the stripes. . ."

"It's in the third drawer on the right." He leaned down and opened the drawer. I watched as he pushed a stack of his folded underwear to the side and grabbed his tie. He began to loop it around his neck before his cell phone rung from its spot on nightstand.

"Shit. . ." He rushed over to the bed and flopped down as he answered the phone, "Hello?"

"You're welcome," I murmurred as I rolled my eyes. I just continued to lie there as he continued to blab on the phone to Michael Richards. He works at the same advertising company as Shane and has hit on me more times than I'd like to admit. I shiver as the memories of those unpleasant moments fill my mind and shake my head before Justin consumes my thoughts. I try to think of a way to deal with the hissy fit I know he's going to have since I abandoned him two days ago and haven't bothered to call since. I don't think too hard because I know it won't take much.

"Babe, it's going to be a late night." Shane voice breaks through my thoughts and I lazily turn my head to face him. "We have an ad to work on and it's going to take a while."

"Yeah, okay," I said as sarcastically as possible, but Shane doesn't even flinch.

"I'll call you tonight, all right?" He kisses the top of my forehead and runs out the door before I even have a chance to respond.

"I love you too." I said to nobody as the scent of his cologne lingered in the air and my eyes welled up with unshed tears.

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I yawned and I tiredly dragged myself through the living room as the sound of the bell subsided before starting up again.

"I'm comin'!" I shout out before jogging over to the door. I made the biggest mistake of my life by doing so because there she was, all smiles before me.

"He-"

"What are you doing here, Teresa?" I asked curtly as I folded my arms across my chest.

"I'm here to see you," she stated a-matter-of-factly, "Now, are you going to invite me in or am I'm going to have to invite myself?"

"Go home." She rolled her eyes to the Heavens despite the many warnings I've given her that they're going to get stuck that way.

"Justin, I know you're mad, but are you seriously going to leave me out here?"

"Yes." I wanted to simply slam the door in her face, but I couldn't bring myself to do so.

"Come on, man. . ."

"What is wrong with you?" I asked suddenly, "Why are you coming here acting like nothing's happened?"

"Because. . . I was hoping you forgot." She couldn't be serious.

"Stop fuckin' with me."

"I thought you liked it when I did that."

"That's not funny."

"I'm not laughing."

"Go. Away."

"Make me." I rolled my eyes this time and sighed.

"What do you want?"

"That's a loaded question, baby." She reached for me, but I pushed her hand away.

"Maybe you didn't understand me the first time," I stated firmly, "Go away now. Leave. Off my property. Don't come back."

"Justin," she said, "You can't be that mad."

"How could I not be that mad?" I asked in disbelief, "How would you feel if I left you hanging?"

"Like crap," she answered, "But that's why I want to make it up to you."

"By fuckin' me and leaving again?" I asked rhetorically, "I'll pass on that opportunity, thank you very much."

"You know, if you really wanted me gone, you would've slammed that face in my door a long time ago."

"Don't tempt me," I growled.

"What is wrong with you?" she whined.

"You're what's wrong with me."

"You don't mean that."

"I don't want to have this discussion anymore," I said dismissively, "I want you to leave."

"You want me to stay."

"I don't-"

"You love me." I groaned and turned to walk back into the house.

"This isn't about that."

"It is," she argued, "This is about you loving me." She slammed the door behind her as she flowed me into the living room.

"This is about you not loving me," I corrected. I turn in time to see her flinch because I told her the truth. The truth that, after all these years, she still can't admit.

"Justin," she said, now frustrated because she knows it's true.

"Look, I'm tired," I sighed, "I'm so tired of the same old thing. I'm tired of being second best. . . I deserve more than that."

"I can't give you anything else," she murmurred, "This is all I have to give."

"This is not enough for me," I informed her as I gestured between us, "We either do this right or not at all. I can't just let you run over me anymore. I can't sit back and watch you keep running back to him every time he says he's sorry and-"

"You don't know anything about him and me!" she shouted defensively.

"I know he's a bastard."

"He loves me."

"I love you," I reminded, "I love you more than he ever has or will. As a matter of fact, he doesn't even love you at all."

"He does love me."

"Does he tell you that before or after he cheats on you?" She looks down briefly, ashamed, before meekily replying.

"It's. . . different."

"Why?" I asked, "Because you love him and not me?" She doesn't answer. "Why is that anyway? I mean, I treat you like a fuckin' queen and I'm ready to give you everything and yet, you love him. You need him. You have to stay with him no matter how many times he makes you cry or leaves you out on your ass-"

"Shut up!" she yelled, "You don't understand!"

"I do understand!" I argued, "I've been more involved in this entire relationship than the both of you combined!"

"Justin-"

"No, don't 'Justin' me!" I continued, "I'm so sick of it. I'm so sick of you showin' up at my doorstep at three in the morning cryin' over him. I'm so sick of waking up alone. I'm so sick of being your fuck buddy! I'm sick of the bullshit. I'm so sick of the fuckin' bullshit!" The last syllable from my mouth echoed throughout the room and she cowarded behind her hands and whimpered. My heart broke as I watched her cry and I'm surprised it's even capable of doing so after all the times it's been broken. Broken by the same woman who's breaking it again in this very moment.

I try not to care. I try to swallow down my sympathy and fight the tears threatening to fall from my own eyes. I try to be stronger than this. I try to be the guy who triumphantly accomplishes his mission of breaking up with some woman who's no good for him.

But she's not just some woman. She's golden. She's precious. She's mine. . . in my mind. She's mine when I kiss her. She's mine when we make love. She's my friend. She's the worst thing that's ever happened to me, but the best thing all the same. I love her. I hate her. She's the epitome of heavenly, but the devil herself. She's my poison and my cure. She's my everything. . .

So when she reaches out for a hug, I don't hesitate to wrap my arms around her and let her bury her face in my chest. I hold her tight and kiss the top of her head with a heavy sigh. I never understand why I'm so sad when this happens. When she ends up in my arms at the end of a fight when my goal was to end things once and for all. I don't know why I'm so disappointed when, in a day or two, she breaks my heart again by doing the same damn thing she's always done. I'll never understand how, after so many pointless fights, I never get it through my head that it's always just a losing battle.

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My eyes shot open the moment I felt the bed shift beside me. My heart's beat quickened for a moment, but returned to its normal pace as I watched her scoot over to me and felt her snuggle against my chest. I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled to myself before I turned my attention to the clock resting on the nightstand behind her and saw it was only one in the morning and that I didn't need to worry for at least a few more hours.

"Mmm. . ." I rose a brow as she continued to mumble and whimper in her sleep and smiled to myself. She was just too cute. My hands ran over her smooth cheek as I admired her delicate features. Everything from her almond shaped eyes and their long lashes to her button nose and the curve of her full lips. She's gorgeous and precious in her sleep. I love her for it, but it pains me to know that beauty quickly fades in the morning time when her ugly habits come to play. But I love her. I love despite the fact that I should know better.

My hands ran down the soft skin of her exposed arms and a small, tired smile crossed her face before she shifted again to move closer to me. My heart fluttered in my chest because of her subconscious actions because I led myself to believe, if only for a second, that she loves me. Loves me enough to want to be close to me. Logic tells me that she's just cold or still longs for the teddy she won't admit she still sleeps with at night.

I can feel myself sadden by the reality of the situation that always seems to crash down on me when I give myself false hope. I try to shake the feeling, but it stays deep in the pit of my stomach. My eyes close and I try to focus on sleep, but fail. I was anxious. I was afraid. I didn't want to sleep because I didn't want to miss a moment of my time with her because I knew was limited.

So, I watched her. I watched her shift and sigh. I watched her whimper and snuggle into me. I enjoyed the feeling of our skins touching as she intertwined her leg with mine. I shivered because of the warmth I felt from her when I kissed her forehead and brushed her hair from her face with my fingertips. I longed for her. I grieved for her. I grieved for the part of me that died just a little bit more when every hour passed and the sun eventually peaked through the clouds and blocked out the moon.

It wasn't until the smell of coffee and bacon hit my nose that I realized I had drifted off to sleep. I groggliy reached over to the spot beside me and felt that it was empty. For a moment, I was disappointed and angry, but then I took a deep breath and remembered the food. The food that Trace couldn't manage to cook without burning down my home. The food that my mother was too far away to make. It could only mean that she stayed. It can only mean that she's downstairs, waiting for me to wake up.

I jumped out of bed and jogged over to my bathroom. I quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face before I dashed down the stairs like a kid on Christmas morning. I hurriedly walked through the living room and reached the entrance of the kitchen. The giant grin on my face flattered when my eyes weren't met by the sight of her petite and curvy frame, but were met by the sight the tall frame of my mother and the back of her head that was covered in a bushel of blonde curls.

"Damn it," I grumbled, causing my mother to turn around and smirk.

"Well, good mornin' to you too, darlin'," she stated sarcastically before I smiled weakly and dragged myself over toward her. I stood by her side and kissed her cheek before grabbing a strip of bacon she had already cooked and put on a plate by the stove. She swatted my hand and I pouted before dragging myself back to the small, tan table in the center of the room. I took a seat and munched on my bacon. The room was quiet except for the crackle of the grease in the pan and I sighed to myself.

I should've known. What made me believe that this time would be different from the rest?

"What are you doing here?" I asked with my mouth full. My mom wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"I flew out this morning because I was bored," she chuckled, "Your dad's working and things are so slow back at home. I would much rather spend my time spoiling you than wasting away on the couch somewhere." I smiled gently.

"Thanks, mama," I said, "I appreciate the love." A comfortable silence filled the room again and I continued to munch on my bacon until my mother spoke again.

"So. . ." my mom began and I rolled my eyes, already knowing what's coming.

"It didn't happen," I answered.

"What?" she asked.

"I didn't break up with her," I explained before turning in my seat to face her, "That was what you were gonna ask, right?"

"Actually, I was gonna ask if you wanted three or four slices of bacon, but since you brought it up, what happened?" She started to prepare me a plate as I watched like I always did, completely amazed that she cooked as good as she did.

"The same thing that always happens happened," I said, "She came here and I basically told her it was over. She shrugged me off and tried to get all touchy-feely. I said no and yelled. She yelled back. I yelled some more. She cried and I was done. She won, like always, and I woke up disappointed, like always." I can hear my mother sigh before she turned and faced me. She had that look on her face that told me we were going to have a conversation that we had a million times before as she placed the plate of eggs, sausage and bacon in front of me as well as a fork.

"Don't be mad at yourself," she cooed in her motherly fashion as she took a seat next to me. I grabbed a sausage link and stuffed it into my mouth. My mom shook her head and chuckled lightly. I didn't see the humor, so I just continued to chew.

"How could I not be?" I asked after swallowing the food in my mouth and silently praising my mother and her heavenly cooking. "I always do this."

"It's not just your fault," my mother comforted, "It takes two to tango."

"Yeah, but if I could just tell her no and actually mean it, maybe there wouldn't be tango-ing goin' around."

"But you love her." I winced at her words because the love was always on my part. It was never 'you love each other'.

"So?"

"So, that means you have a really big soft spot for her." I snorted. "I'm serious, Justin. When you love someone, you're willing to do anything to make them happy."

"But that's the thing, mama," I said, "I don't make her happy. If I did, why is not here?"

"I don't know," my mother answered honestly, "But I know you make her happy. She loves you."

"Says who?" I asked, raising my voice.

"Says the way she looks at you," my mom said, "Says the way she keeps running to you whenever something happens in her."

"I'm just. . . convenient," I told her, "I don't mean anything."

"You do mean something," she impugned, "You're her friend."

"I was her friend," I corrected with emphasis, "Things are so different now, mama. I can't even look at her and see my friend anymore. I can just see what every other guy sees."

"If that were true, you wouldn't have tolerated her behavior all these years," my mom said, "You know how good of a person she is and you love that part of her. You love the woman you grew to know."

"I know. . ." I mumbled sadly as I began to pick at my eggs with my fork. "There's a million women in this world and she's the only one I can imagine spending my life with." My mother smiled gently and I could've sworn her eyes glazed over with tears. The last thing I needed was my mom crying. She's wept for me and with me too many times in my lifetime. Most were tears of joy, but I can tell now that she just feels sorry for me. Here I was talking about spending the rest of my life with a woman who didn't care about me enough to wake up with me in the morning or at least tell me that she likes me just a little bit beyond the physical.

"Baby," my mom began in a quiet voice that told me she was fighting her emotions, "One of these days she's going to realize how wonderful you are and love you the way you deserve." I nodded my head as she spoke despite the fact that I didn't believe a damn word she just said.

Knock, Knock


"Before you cuss me out, I can explain." I rolled my eyes and sighed, but continued to stand there, curious about what excuse she cooked up this time around.

"You've got five seconds," I stated firmly, as if I really meant it. She could have five years if she wanted to. The way she was leaning on the doorframe in a pair of tight blue jeans and a white vintage t-shirt that hugged her oh so nicely made her even more irresistible than usual, which is a scary thought.

"I left yesterday morning because I had a hair appointment and then all these walk-in customers kept on comin' and Tasha didn't show up so we were short on staff. . ." She took a moment to breathe. "It was just complete and utter chaos and by the time I got home it was one in the morning."

"Why didn't you call?" I asked. As pathetic as it may sound, I would've sprung up the moment her name flashed across my Caller I.D. screen.

"Because I was exhausted, Jay," she explained simply as she took advantage of the temporary distraction our conversation caused me by stepping inside of my foyer and slowly removing my hand from the door knob.

"I didn't need an hour long conversation," I said, trying to pretend I didn't notice the warmth of her palm against mine as she slowly shut and locked the door behind her with her free hand.

"But it would've turned into that," she smiled as she looked back at me.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked. I knew I was suppose to be angry, but the grin on her face caused one to form on mine as we made our way into my living room, our fingers hooked onto each other's while doing so.

"Nothing," she said, "As a matter of fact, I miss those conversations."

"Me too," I admitted softly. Those conversations are what made me fall in love with her. Sure she was gorgeous, but the things that we connected on and fought about are what made me realize that there's nobody else like her.

"Then let's have one," she perked up after a moment of silence. "Let's talk!"

"About?" I asked.

"Anything, baby," she answered enthusiastically, "Let's talk about life and politics and dreams and friends and. . ."

"Us?" My hopes were up when she offered me a smirk, but it quickly flattered.

"Let's work on that later," she said, "I want to just have fun today."

"Okay. . ." I mumbled with uncertainty. If fun meant sex with no meaning and waking up alone, I wasn't up for it.

"Let's go out." I heart leapt in shock and the way she laughed told me my face must've shown my surprise.

"Out where?" I asked with excitement. We hadn't gone out in what felt like, and probably was, years. With all the sex and drama going on between us, leaving my house together was a rare occasion.

"Anywhere," she answered vaguely. "We can go to the park or the movies or the mall. Hell, we can go to Mexico if you really wanted to."

"Really?" I asked, ready to pack my bags within the next twenty seconds, but she laughed.

"No, not really," she told me, consquencely popping my happy bubble, "But we could go. . . In the very near future."

"How soon is that?"

"I don't know, I have to check my schedule," she said, "But I'm free today, so we can just. . . chill."

"Chillin' sounds good," I smiled, "Let's go." I didn't even bother checking my appearance for I made a beeline for my Nike shoes and slipped them on without a second thought. I could hear Teresa giggle when I tripped over my feet trying to get my shoes on and hold the door open for her at the same time. I retaliated by sticking my foot out in the mist of her laughter and making her stumble a bit. She tried to look angry, but was laughing with her head tilted back and hands clapping. I chuckled to myself as she playfully shoved me as I guided her to my Lexus and unlocked the doors.

"So. . . are you hungry?" I looked over at her as I adjusted into my driver's seat and she clipped on her seat belt.

"I could eat," I replied nonchalantly.

"I should've known."

"So can you," I interjected, "And if you knew, why'd you ask?"

"Because. . . I thought for once in your greedy life, you could say you weren't hungry."

"Greedy?" I asked, as if I were offended, "Who was the one who downed about twenty chicken wings in sixty seconds at Johnathan's birthday party?" She smiled and rolled her eyes.

"First of all, it was more like sixty minutes-"

"Seconds," I interrupted.

"Second of all," she continued, "You're the one who had two racks of ribs and four cheeseburgers before having the audacity to ask me for some of my twenty wings."

"But I'm greedy, remember?" I asked as I drove down my driveway, "What's your excuse?"

"Shut up, fool," she giggled, "Those wings gave me these hips and I never heard you complain about them."

"This is true," I smiled, "I guess we better head to an all you can eat buffet. Them hips are looking a little slender." She slapped my arm and I laughed as she turned up the radio, blasting Olivia's "Best Friend". I almost laughed, but I decided to just bob my head to the beat instead. As I continued down the road, I glanced over at her every once in a while, catching her staring into oblivion as she tried to sing along with every song that came on the radio. I smiled to myself, realizing that this was the first time in what felt like years, and, once again, probably was, since we were alone and not all over each other.

And as gay as it may sound, I liked it this way.


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Three hours into chillin' and Justin and I were far from finished. We had walked all around LA and shopped at a few stores as his body guards trailed behind and in front of us as well as the paparazzi. The flashes of the cameras and the constant calling of Justin's names and questions about who I was irked my very last nerves when we first got noticed, but as Justin walked alongside me and cracked some jokes, they began to disappear.

The boy was glowing in the mist of all this chaos, a smile never leaving his face, and I was proud. Proud because I had put it there because I finally took a step away from my selfish self and began to give him what he rightfully deserved: my time. I knew that it mattered that I wasn't around much, but to hear him constantly reminding me of how much he has missed us leaves me feeling loved.

Shane hasn't done anything but make me feel like some type of burden whenever I break into his schedule with a two second 'hello, goodbye'.

"Yo, you definitely need to get those," Justin said, pointing at the Coach bag and sunglasses placed on a fancy display case near the window as we walked inside the quiet store, leaving the paparazzi parade behind us. Some smooth jazz music was playing and I sighed as the cool air from the vents hit my hot skin.

"Why do I need 'em?" I asked, "That bag is like a thousand and those sunglasses three, four hundred dollars." Justin rolled his eyes and smiled.

"You are so cheap," he complained as he walked over to the bag and glasses and started to inspect them.

"I'm not cheap," I argued as I scowled at the pricetag on a hat, "I'm just broke."

"Well, I'm not," he said, causing me to roll my eyes.

"Well, no shit, Sherlock," I sarcastically replied.

"See, that's why I'm no longer getting it for you," he said, walking away from where he was once examining the items. I shrugged my shoulders and continued to wonder aimlessly around the store.

"Fine by me," I told him, "I didn't want it anyway."

"Then I guess that means you're getting it." He rushed back over to the display.

"I don't want it."

"Hmm. . . black or white?" he asked me, holding up to two bags and ignoring my previous statement.

"I said-"

"White it is."

"Boy, I said-"

"Excuse me!" he called, beckoning a saleswoman from across the room.

"Justin Randall-"

"I know you don't wanna use middle names, Virginia."

"Don't call me Virginia."

"Don't call me Randall."

"You know what? You are such an - Hello!" I perked up the moment I took notice of the saleswoman standing in front of us. She smiled uncomfortably, like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry, before offering her hand to me.

"Hello, I'm Amber," she greeted.

"I'm Teresa." She nodded and turned to Justin, who shook her hand lightly and smiled politely.

"I'm Justin." As I said before, no shit, Sherlock. The Amber chick smiled and nodded before saying it was nice to meet him. More like his credit card. She was grinning when he started ordering random things that I didn't even want and was even happier when he told her to charge it. Justin was glowing himself, as if the things were for him, and I found it as adorable as it was annoying.

"I really hate it when you do this," I told him softly as I poked his arm like a whiny child.

"You love it," he argued simply, "Look, when was the last time I bought you something?"

"July, for my birthday."

"See, that was so long ago."

"Dude, it's August." He pretended to think for a moment before he laughed.

"Really?" I rolled my eyes, but smiled anyway.

"You know I'm giving all this to your mama, right?"

"And you know she's gonna give it right back, right?" I sighed.

"Yeah, I know." I hooked my arm in his and leaned on his shoulder as we waited for Amber to come back with a receipt and his stuff. "How is she by the way?"

"Good," he replied, "You just missed her right before we left. I sent her to the spa place on Grant with Rachel."

"That's good," I said before my ringtone ripped through the peaceful room. Three other customers roaming the store looked as Sean Paul's 'Temperature' played from my purse and I offered them apologetic looks. Justin only snickered as I searched and finally found my phone and flipped it open.

"Where are you?" Before I could say 'hello', Shane's abrasive tone rang in my ear and I rolled my eyes.

"Out. Why?" I could envision him rubbing his temples because of my vague response, but I couldn't care less.

"Are you coming home?"

"Maybe," I said, "Why?"

"Well, I wanted to have dinner with you tonight, but seeing that it's almost seven and you obviously don't want to come home. . ." My interest peaked at that moment. Shane wanted to have dinner. . . with me. That had been a dream of mine for a while, seeing that dinner consisted of me cooking a small meal for myself and feeding the fish in our living room.

"Now?" I asked.

"No, in October," he stated sarcastically, "Of course now."

"Why didn't you ask me earlier?"

"Because you didn't mention you were doing anything today."

You never asked. . . "Well, I'm out with a friend now, so I don't know."

"What friend?"

"The friend that I'm with." Shane sighed and I sighed inwardly.

"Fair enough," he mumbled, "But are you interested or not?" I looked over at Justin who was aimlessly playing with a charm on my keychain before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm interested," I said, "I'll be home in a little bit."

"Okay, babe," he said to me, "See ya later." He hung up and I slammed my phone shut, still debating whether or not I should go.

"So. . ." Justin started slowly, "I guess-"

"I'm sorry," I blurted out. Justin looked down at his feet and nodded his head.

"You always are." Before I could respond, Amber came out with the bags and Justin unhooked our arms and retrieved the bags from her. We both said goodbye, freigning happiness, as Justin's body guards reappeared and guided us through the chaos outside and to Justin's car. Once we were safely tucked away in the vehicle, they went into their own SUV and followed us. The drive back to Justin's house was silent, aside from the music playing on the radio, but even that didn't seem to distract me from the sound of his breathing or the way his eyes stayed on the road and the road alone.

I felt extremely stupid. Here I was, having a really good time with a really good guy and I had to ruin it because Shane snapped his fingers and beckoned me. I wanted to apologize as he parked the car in his lot, but he hopped out of the car before I got the chance. I hurried after him before his walk was a bit quicker than normal and I was almost certain he was going to walk through his front doors and slam them shut in my face.

"Justin!" I called as he took the stairs two at a time and fumbled with his keys the way he always does when he's angry or sad or both.

"What?" he mumbled gruffly before sticking the key into the lock and turning it. I jogged up the steps and grabbed his wrist before he could step inside.

"Justin, please don't be mad."

"Mad?" he asked rhetorically, "Why would I be mad?"

"Because. . . Shane. . ." I said vaguely, confused.

"Oh, you mean mad because you, once again, are dropping me for a guy who calls once every blue moon?"

"Jay. . . please," I sighed.

"No, don't," he said, "I. . . I don't get it. You said you wanted to chill. Do something different, and yet, here we are, doing the same damn thing we always do."

"I'm sor-"

"No, you're not," he interrupted with a roll of his eyes, "Just go have fun with your boyfriend." He climbed up the remaining stairs and slammed the door shut behind him, sending a chilling echo throughout his estate. I stood on the steps and stared at the mahogany doors as they stared back at me. I wanted to knock and apologize again, but I wanted to just leave and have dinner with Shane. My initial feelings pulled me to Justin, but my pride led me to Shane.

Before I knew it, I was sitting across Shane at an The Italian Bistro. It was a small cafe place outside of his firm that was romantic, but comfortable. The food was good, well, at least the small portion I ate was. I didn't have much of an appetite because Justin was on my mind every two seconds and Shane was so quiet I had no type of distraction.

"Would like to order dessert?" I looked up at the waiter standing at our table, smiling politely my way. I sat up straight and sighed.

"Oh, thanks, but-"

"She'll have a chocolate mousse and I'll have the strawberry tart, please." I glared looked at Shane as the waiter nodded in understanding before walking away.

"I didn't want dessert."

"Well, you're having it."

"Shane-"

"Look, I didn't ask you to eat dinner with me for you to just poke at chicken and stare into space all night," he said, punctuating his sentence with a small smile.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I have a lot on my mind right now."

"Like what?" If I didn't know any better, I would've thought he actually cared.

"Nothing you'd be interested in," I said.

"Try me."

"Shane, are you okay?" He looked up at me before glancing around like I was speaking to someone else.

"I'm fine," he replied, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine too," I lied, "I just don't know where all this came from."

"What?" he asked.

"This. . ." I mumbled, gesturing toward the table, "Dinner. . . Conversation. . ."

"Isn't that what a boyfriend's suppose to do?" he questioned.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Okay then, that's all there is to it."

"No," I argued, "There's a catch isn't there?"

"What?" he chuckled, "Catch?"

"You know, a trick. Some type of. . . twisted scheme." He laughed and shook his head.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because. . ." I smiled despite myself. "When was the last time we've done something remotely close to romantic?" He sighed and smiled weakly.

"Damn, I really can't remember. . ." He paused for a moment and fiddled with his napkin. "Are we really that bad?" I wanted to say 'yes', but the way he looked at me, so sad and confused, made me bite my tongue.

"Not. . . that bad. . ."

"But bad enough, huh?"

"We've just been busy."

"I've been busy," he corrected, "I'm fuckin' up. . ."

"No, Shane. . ." I don't why I was saying no. We both know he has fucked up, but he doesn't know I'm fucking up too.

"Look, we both know that's a lie," Shane said, "There's no need to defend me."

"It's not just you," I told him, "There's two people in this relationship."

"And one has been the only one trying."

"Shane-"

"I'm serious," he continued, "I know you have made your mistakes, but I'm still to blame. I pushed you to someone else and I quite honestly wouldn't hate you if you were still cheating." I swallowed and bit my bottom lip. Did I mention that I was a terrible person?

When Shane had first found out about Justin and kicked me out, I was sure he was done with me. But then he called two weeks later and made me promise to never cheat again. I did.

We all know that was a lie and a half.

I guess I've been setting myself up as victim to him. He didn't know my dirt, but I knew his. I guess that's why I could swallow my guilt and control the urge to tell him. He was as much as a cheater as I was. I at least stuck to one person while he, on the other hand, enjoyed the company of many. I know, I know. Two wrongs don't make a right, but, damn it, it's so much easier to get played when you're playing that person right back.

"Shane, I just want to enjoy this evening with you," I said, trying to focus on anything but our problems, "Let's just drop it, okay?"

He sighed. "Okay. . ."

"Oh, dessert!" I was too hype, but the tension was killing me. I never thought I'd be so happy to see a waiter before, but the man and my mousse is saving me from a future headache.

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

"So what's on your agenda?" I looked up from my keyboard and met my mother's gaze before sighing and shrugging. I began to plug in random keys, trying to make up a beat I hadn't quite thought of before.

"Stop staring at me," I whined as I felt a hole being burned into my head by my mother's eyes.

"Sorry, but you're so gorgeous," she chuckled and I smirked, "You look just like me."

I playfully rolled my eyes. "Conceited much?"

"I'm conceited. I've got a reason. . ." I stopped playing on the keyboard and stared at my mother in horror.

"Never, ever, ever, ever sing that song again." She laughed heartily and I joined her despite myself.

"I just sung it to get a laugh out of you," she told me, "You've been so quiet tonight." She reached up to pet my small curls and relaxed underneath her touch.

"I'm not in the mood to talk." My mother gasped dramatically and put her free hand over her heart.

"Well, I never thought I'd see the day."

"Not funny," I grumbled.

"I'm sorry," she smiled, "I guess that joke didn't work."

"Do I really talk that much?" I asked.

"Yes," she answered honestly, "But I don't mind it. In fact, I want you to start talking now."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"We can talk about why you're not talking."

"Or we can leave it alone." I began to play a Brian McKnight song I learned last week before the keys stopped making music. "What the-"

"No talk, no power." My mother's hand was placed firmly over the power button on my keyboard and I was beyond annoyed with her.

"Fine, I have a piano." I went to stand, but she placed her hand on my shoulder and made me sit.

"Tell me. Now."

"It's Teresa."

"Okay. . ."

"Do I really need to say more?"

"Yes, a lot more," she told me, "What happened?"

"She ditched me, again."

"You woke up alone?"

"No. I was wide awake this time," I said, "She got a called from you-know-who and off she went to La La Land, leaving me alone."

"Oh. . ."

"Oh," I repeated.

"Well, did she call?"

"Why would she?" I asked, "Every time she wants to give me some bullshit apology, she comes knocking at my door. I'm the only one who calls and I'll be damned if I do."

"That's understandable," my mother said, "But Justin?"

"Yes?"

"The next time she knocks on your door, try not opening it."

"I have."

"Try harder," my mom encouraged, "Look, I know you love her, but you can't keep letting her do this."

"I thought it was okay because I loved her."

"It is. . ." she said, "But, baby, if she's ever gonna realize how much she cares for you, she has to lose you."

"What?"

"You know the saying 'you don't miss a good thing until it's gone'?" I nodded. "It's truer than true."

"Stopping myself from opening the door is so much easier said than done."

"But it's so much easier to let her go once than over and over and over again." That made perfect sense to me. My mom was a genius. . . but I was a fool. Around three in the morning, a knock on my door woke me from my slumber and I knew in every fiber of my being that it was her. My mother's words ran through my mind and right out of my ass because I swung that door open so quick that I almost got whiplash.

A kiss here and a touch there and I was gone. She was back in my bed and back in my heart all over again.

Excitement and Misery


I yawned and stretched as the covers tangled around my legs and the rest of me remained exposed. My eyes were shut because the sun was blaring, but I felt his feather-like kissings against the skin of my left breast before they trailed up my chest and neck. I giggled as he snuggled beneath my jaw and his prickly stubble rubbed against my skin. His arm draped over my waist and he gave me a gentle squeeze that caused me to giggle some more.

"Mornin'," he whispered against my cheek before kissing it and kissing my lips in one swift movement. I sighed in content as his skin warmed my own before he pulled away to my dismay.

"Good mornin'," I all but sang as I purred. I heard him chuckle lightly and my eyes fluttered open, taking in the sun and the sight of his beautiful face. He was still smiling at me like the nerd he was and I found it so endearing. His eyes seemed to be a brighter blue than normal and sparkled in the morning glow.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Justin said, almost ruining our dreamy moment with the reality of us. I just shrugged it off, not wanting to think about the many times I've dogged him out, and smiled.

"Well, are you happy to see me?" I asked with a small smirk.

"Of course," he said sweetly, "How could I not be?"

I smiled. "Exactly. So, let's not worry about anything else." Rather anyone. My night with Shane ended on a sour note when one of his female associates called him when were about to have sex. Mid-kiss, he ran to get his phone. I was as angry as I was hurt and ended up cussing him out after I grabbed his phone and threw it against our bedroom wall, watching it shatter into a million little pieces.

Just like my heart.

He yelled and claimed I was paying him for the phone. I told him to fuck off and drove to Justin's without a second thought. I was nervous, so I didn't give him a chance to yell at me for abandoning him earlier that night. I simply attacked his lips with mine and stuck my hands into his boxer briefs. It was all it took to have him right where I needed him and I was grateful. I needed his loving. I needed his touch. I needed to feel wanted since Shane had left me so dejected.

And Justin gave me all of that and more. He always does, but last night seemed to be so much more than any other night. Call me a liar if you please, but I mean it. Last night he took it slow. Slow. He's usually rough when he's angry with me, but last night, despite the fact that he should've slammed me against the wall and pulled my hair, he undressed me gently and kissed every inch of my body until his lips reached my forehead and he whispered that he forgave me. I know that he's forgiven me a million times before, but it was always an unspoken understanding. To actually hear him say that he did was a whole other thing. I almost cried. I wasn't worthy of his forgiveness or anything else, for that matter.

I guess that's why I stayed. I had woken up around ten and was ready to leave, but I turned my head before I slipped out of the bed and there he was, snoring lightly and smiling softly in his sleep. I couldn't leave him. Not after he forgave me. Letting him wake up to me was the least that I could do.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked in a whisper as he stared down at me. His head was now propped up by his hand while he lazily dragged a finger of his free hand about my upper body.

"You," I answered honestly.

"What about me?" He smiled in a devious way and I laughed.

"You are so nasty," I said.

"Yes, I am," he replied, "But, really, what's up?"

"Nothing. . ." I lied.

"I don't believe you," he told me.

"Fine by me." Justin sighed and gave me one of those stubborn looks of his.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently and I rolled my eyes.

"Do you really want to know?" I asked.

"I wouldn't have questioned you if I didn't."

"Fine," I said before looking up at the ceiling, trying to avoid his gaze, "Shane and I had a fight."

"No surprise there."

I couldn't argue. "I broke his phone."

"Really?"

"Yeah. . ." I sighed, "I just. . , threw it. He got all mad and he yelled. I yelled. We yelled together. Then I came here."

"That doesn't surprise me either." He sounded sad about that fact and before I knew it, he was out of bed, slipping on his boxer briefs.

"Where are you going?" He slauntered over to his bureau and opened up a drawer.

"I'm gonna take a shower," he replied absentmindedly. I could practically feel the drop in temperature because of the cold shoulder he was starting to give me, so I tried to lighten the mood.

"Care for some company?" Justin glanced over his shoulder and I smiled suggestively with a raised brow. He frowned and I was confused, but I still slipped from underneath the covers and walked over towards him.

"Rese. . ." Justin sighed when I wrapped my arms around him from behind and pressed my lips to the freckled skin of his back. I smirked when I heard the familiar nickname and kissed his back again.

"What's wrong?" I asked instinctively when he stopped my hands from roaming his abs and chest area by firmly gripping my wrists.

"Look, I. . ." He trailed off and my brows furrowed with a mixture of frustration and confusion.

"You what?" Instead of answering me, he pulled away completely and practically ran back to the bed. I watched as he frantically gathered my clothes before shoving them against me.

"You have to go." He refused to meet my gaze as he twisted his hands nervously.

"What?" I asked. "Why?"

"Because. . ." He sighed again. "I can't. . . I can't do this anymore."

"Justin, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about us," he said quickly. "You have to go."

"Jus-"

"Listen, I don't know when I'm ever gonna get the courage to do this again, so please, just leave."

"Are you high?" He rolled his eyes like it was the most preposterous thing he ever heard.

"Teresa, please," he pleaded, "If you care about me just a little bit, you'll leave." I stared at him quietly until he was staring back at me. His eyes were wide and worried, and I could see the sadness mixed in.

"Do you really want that?" I asked. "Do you really want me to go?" He licked his lips and took in deep breaths. I clutched my clothes against my body and waited patiently. He was going to say no. I know he is.

"Of course I don't want you to go, Teresa," he said and I smiled. "But, damn it, I need you to." My grin flattered immediately and I tried not to look as sad as I felt.

"But I stayed," I said, "I stayed for you."

"One morning out of a million isn't something to be proud of," Justin said.

"But it's something good, right?" I asked. "I could've left you."

"And you have."

"I didn't today."

"Today, you stayed," Justin confirmed, "But what about tomorrow? What about the day after that or two weeks from now? Will you be there?" I shrugged.

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

"Well, neither do I," Justin said, "And I can't live like that. I can't keep waking up alone."

"Justin, come on," I whined, "Where am I suppose to go? Shane isn't speaking to me after what happened last night and I. . . I don't have anywhere to go."

"You have plenty of friends," Justin reasoned, "You can stay with them."

"I want to stay with you."

"You can't," Justin said firmly. "Just get dressed and leave."

"What if I don't?" I questioned, stubbornly placing a hand on my bare hip and waiting for his response.

"Teresa. . ."

"I'm serious, Justin," I told him, "What if I don't?"

"You have no choice," he said, "Either you leave or-"

"Or what?" I interrupted.

"Or I'm dragging your ass outta here."

"Yeah right," I said, "I could take you."

"Fine, but I have three, butch ass body guards that I'm sure you couldn't handle on your best day." I narrowed my eyes at him and he stared at me blankly. He was trying to be stubborn and firm, but it wasn't working. His eyes were showing his weakness and I knew that he wanted to cave in.

"Okay," I said, "I'll leave." He looked relieved and disappointed as I held my clothes and bag in one hand and made my way towards him.

"Teresa," Justin said when I reached up to caress his face.

"What?" I asked, "I can't even give you a kiss on the cheek?" He searched my eyes before leaning down a bit and offering me his cheek. I pressed my lips to his cheek and then to the corner of his mouth. My hands dragged down his arms and rested on his slim hips when my lips touched his. At first, it was all me, but when I became more aggressive with the kiss, he fell right into it; holding the back of my neck with his right hand.

Then he pulled away suddenly, our lips separating with a light suction sound. His hands fell to his sides, but I kept my hands on his waist.

"You don't miss a good thing until it's gone," he whispered to the floor he was staring at. I furrowed my brows and smiled awkwardly.

"What?" I asked. He took my hands from his waist and placed them at my sides before he backed away. His eyes were focused on my own and they were much more defiant than before.

"You can get dressed in here," he said, backing up towards his master bathroom, "You know the way out."

"But-" He slammed the bathroom door shut and I could hear it lock behind him. I rolled my eyes at how childish that move was and quickly put on my clothes. I hung around for a few minutes afterward, hoping he'd emerge from the bathroom without me having to beg him too. Despite the fact that I was in the wrong, I did have pride. A little too much pride, actually. I would rather stand out there for a million years than knock on that door and beg him to open up.

I guess Justin was just as proud as me because that door stayed closed for seventeen minutes after I was dressed. Yes, I counted, but it was all I could do as I stood in that quiet room and waited. I finally gave up, grabbed my purse from where I left it on his bed, and rolled out of there. I slammed his door so hard behind me that I'm sure something fell and broke, but I didn't even care. I was too pissed off.

Why? I don't know. Maybe getting rejected twice in the last twenty-four hours is what had my pressure up, but whatever the hell it was, I was angry, that's for sure. Still, a part of me wanted to stay as I reversed out of my parking spot and revved up the engine before I sped down his spiraling driveway. I looked into my rearview mirror and watched as his mansion disappeared behind me and sighed.

Today was going to be one of those days.

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

So, I kicked her out. I should be proud of myself for finally doing something, but when I look in the vanity mirror above my sink, I feel sick. Like I had done something wrong. But I was right, right? I did what I had to do because I was tired of the bullshit.

She had nowhere to go though. Should I have offered her a place to stay? A hotel? A mutual friend? No. . . That's not my problem. If she had broken up with Shane years ago, she wouldn't have a problem finding a place to stay. She would be here, living with me. Her loss, not mine. . . but why do I feel so sad?

"Boo!" I screamed when the voice came from nowhere and I damn near cut my face with my razor as Trace laughed and turned a bright shade of red. I glared at the little fucker and rolled my eyes.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked before turning back to the mirror and checking for bleeding.

"Dude, I was standing there for, like, twenty minutes. I could see you making all these faces at the mirror and not paying attention, so I did what any normal person would do."

"Normal is not in your vocabulary," I mumbled as I carefully removed a neat line of hair from my cheek, "What the hell are you doing here anyways?"

"Nothing, man," he said, "I'm just chillin' with my boy today." I smiled despite myself and cleaned beneath my chin.

"Cool," I said, "What's our plan for today?"

"Don't know," Trace said, taking a deep breath, "Where's your lady friend?" I cut my cheek the moment he asked that and hissed because of the burn.

"Shit," I whined, looking at the blood coming from the nick and mixing with the white foam, making it a pretty shade of pink.

"You alright?" Trace asked. I nodded.

"Could you grab me a small towel?" Trace kindly turned towards the closet beside the door and opened it wide. He found the pile of folded wash cloths and grabbed a pale green one before tossing it in my direction.

"So, where is she?" Trace asked again as I wet the towel and wiped off my face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

"Unless you where some fruity ass perfume, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Are you some type of hound?" I asked, "I can't smell a thing."

"'Cause the sex smell is covering it up," Trace said, "You were really going at it, weren't you?"

"Trace," I laughed, "You are so damn weird, man. Always sniffing for sex and perfume."

"Well, those are the two things I'm always smelling in here," he complained, "So, where is she?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly, "I kicked her out a while ago." The sick feeling returned to the pit of my stomach and I sighed.

"That's a good thing, man," Trace assured as if he read my mind, "Don't feel bad."

"She had nowhere to go."

"She always has a place to go," Trace said, "You should know that better than anyone." That was a blow to my ego and I'm sure Trace did it intentionally. He's not a big fan of the pussy-wiped behavior I've taken on since Teresa came about. He's also not a big fan of hers either.

"They had a hug fight last night. .. Well, this morning, anyway. She said he's not talking to her." Trace grunted.

"Don't they always fight?"

"Yeah, but she broke his phone this time," I said, "Seemed really big."

"Well, I hope he kicks her out or something."

"Trace," I reprimanded.

"Don't Trace me," he said, "She's dogging the hell out of you."

"I'm well aware of the fact that I'm being dogged," I stated, "But I don't want you wishing anything bad on her."

"I don't get you," Trace said, "You're always talking about how terrible she treats you and yet, here you are, defending her."

"She treats me like crap, yes, but respect the fact that I love the girl."

"For reason unknown," Trace muttered, "She's done nothing but hurt you."

"That's not true," I argued, "She's done more than that."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Trace said sarcastically, "She fucks really well, too."

"Trace. . ."

"Is it really that good?" Trace asked, "Does she have, like, a golden pussy or something majestic like that?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it?" he asked, "The only thing I ever hear, or smell, for that matter, is sex. That she's using you for sex. She left you after sex. She wants nothing, but sex. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex!"

"Will you stop yelling?!" I yelled before I huffed and angrily dried my face. "Look, I know I'm a fuckin' idiot and I know it seems like it's just sex, but it's not. Trace, you know me better than that. If all she was good for was sex, I would've dropped her a long ass time ago."

"Why do you love her, man?" Trace asked. "She's cheating on you every single day. She doesn't love you back. . . I mean, what are you still doing with her?"

"That's a lot of questions," I said.

"And you didn't give me a single answer," Trace countered, "That says a lot though." I held my towel up on my waist as I began to exit the bathroom, nudging Trace out of my way. I could hear him sigh and I felt bad for a moment. He was just doing his job as my best friend by being honest with me. By questioning my stupidity. I appreciated it as much as I hated it. I know how messed up this is. I don't need to be constantly reminded by everybody else that I'm a fool.

Why can't they understand that loving somebody is the hardest thing in the world? Especially when they can break your heart into a million pieces one minute and put it all back together the next?

"Trace, you wanted to chill, right?" I asked, digging through my drawer for my boxer briefs.

"Yeah, man," he said, "But I want to discuss this."

"Not now," I said.

"Then when?" Trace said, "The moment I mention anything about her, it's always 'not now'."

"I'm sorry, but I can't even talk to mom half the time," I told him, "I just need to think about it myself before I try and express myself to anybody else."

"Well, hurry up and think it over because I seriously need to know what's going on in that fucked up head of yours." He plopped down on the edge of my bed before quickly standing up and scowling at it.

"Ha. That's what you get," I taunted as I walked into my closest.

"That's the nastiest thing ever," Trace whined, "Got, I sat in your sex juice." I laughed heartily as I grabbed a pair of jeans and a polo from their hangers.

"Shut up," I chuckled, "Nobody asked you to sit your lazy ass down."

"My legs hurt."

"Those stumpy little things have to work twice as hard," I teased. He glared in my direction as I stepped out of the closest.

"I'm gonna let you slide," he said, "Get dressed quickly 'cause I'm starving." I nodded and he turned to walk away. That's when a thought passed through my mind and I smiled.

"Ew, Trace," I said, causing him to turn and look at me.

"What?" he asked.

"You've got a condom on your butt."

"Dude, what the fuck?" he complained, slapping his ass off and trying to turn and see it. I grinned and he looked up in time to catch me smiling like a baffoon.

"Ha. Ha."

"Come on," I said, "That was funny."

"That's disgusting."

"So is your face," I shot back. He flipped me off and headed out of the room. I just watched; a smile never leaving my face.

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

I tapped my pen against the arm of the swivel chair I was sitting in. It was dark inside of the salon except for the light the vanity mirror provided with the millions of little light bulbs surrounding it. The glow illuminated the empty white page laying on the counter in front of me and seemed to make the nagging feeling of having to write something become stronger. I had yet to figure out what that something was as far as details, but I knew that I was trying to write an apology. It was hard. Like I mentioned before, I'm a very proud person, so apologizing isn't my forte. I figured that writing would be easier than actually vocalizing my feelings, but I'm wrong. Really wrong.

"Damn it," I groaned, slapping the pen down onto the paper and looking up into the mirror. My reflection was appalling because I was far from dolled up. No make up, bad hair, and a frown don't make the best combination, but it would have to do. I had no reason to get dolled up. I haven't spoken to Justin in two days and Shane is just ignoring me, which isn't really a big deal since it's basically been this way our whole relationship. It's Justin that has me all anxious and upset.

He actually kicked me out. Sure, he's asked me to leave before and at one point did try to lock my outside, but after a second of whining he let me in again. This time, he caged himself in his bathroom and didn't get out until I was long gone. Plus, he has called. As stubborn as he can be, he can only go twenty-four hours without calling to see if I'm alright.

It makes me wonder and when I wonder I get all bent out of shape. I worry and think of the worst possible scenarios imaginable for no good reason. . . I even thought that maybe Justin died. I went as far as browsing the magazine racks for a tabloid with the headliner. There was nothing there, of course, because I'm sure if Justin died somebody in his family would at least give me a ring and let me know.

"Are you going to sleep in here or what?" I turned in my chair and to my surprise, Shane was standing in the middle of the salon with a bouqet of white roses and keys in his hands. I looked at the floors and then at him. Maybe I was I dreaming.

"Shane?" I asked with uncertainty.

"I should hope so," he smiled, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I said, "I just wasn't expecting you."

"So. . . is this a good or bad surprise?"

"I don't know," I replied, "Depends on the reasoning."

"I've missed you," he told me, looking down at his feet. I smirked because he looked so shy and tried to take in his words. Him missing me was something so incredibly rare that I didn't exactly know how to respond.

"Are those for me?" I asked, referring to the roses in his hands.

"These?" he asked, raising them for me to see, "Nah. I picked these up for Mother Goose on my way down here." I giggled lightly and shook my head.

"Boy, give me my flowers."

"That's not the way you ask for things," he said, strolling over to my chair. I rolled my eyes as he stood in front of me and looked down upon my face.

"Fine," I said, "Shane-"

"Mr. Callahan," he corrected with a sly grin.

I sighed. "Mr. Callahan, can I-"

"May I."

"Mr. Callahan, may I please have my flo-"

"Beautiful flowers."

". . . beautiful flowers?" I giggled.

"What's the magic word?" he asked, waving the flowerings around and taunting me.

"Now."

"Nope, try again."

"Shane, come on. . ."

"Magic word."

"Please!?!" He laughed heartily and I smiled despite myself, snatching the bouquet from his hands. "Damn, you play too much."

"What?" he asked, "All I wanted was a polite request. It's a shame I had to coach you through it. Don't you have manners?"

"Kiss my ass," I said before I took a deep whiff of my roses, "And thank you for the bouquet." He nodded and I continued to gaze at my flowers before I felt his hand cup my left cheek. It was warm against my skin and guide my head upwards. He smiled at me like he was seeing me for the first time before he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine.

It was a slow and tender kiss that was so warm my whole body heated up. Not in some horny way (well, maybe a little), but in a more. . . comforting fashion. I was a bit surprised by the way he held my face in his hands and was so gentle with the works of his tongue against mine. It seemed like such a long time ago when he was this careful with me. When things weren't rushed between us.

He pulled away and I took in a breath I didn't know I needed. His eyes were wide and happy like he had felt everything I just did and I was tempted to ask him if he did.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered and I smiled, silently asking where this Shane had been hiding all these years.

"I love you," I said so softly that I thought he hadn't heard me, but he smiled wide, showing off his pearly whites, and rubbed his thumb across my cheek.

"I love you, too." And there you have it. The phrase I thought I'd never hear again was spoken by the last man I thought would say it. A miracle it seemed to be. Shane Callahan expressing his feelings for me with more emotion than he's had in four years. He loved me. I loved him. And for the first time in a long time, Justin was the last thing on my mind.

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

"This is crap," I whined and my mother rolled her eyes.

"It's not crap," she argued, "It's good."

"It blows," I countered.

"Wind blows," my mom said, "This. . . This is brilliant."

"Sure," I said, ripping the page from my song book and balling it up. I tossed it in the center of the table where a growing pile of balled up paper layed. My mother shot me a look of displeasure and I only stared back for a second before my eyes focused on the blank sheet in front of me.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a voice that told me she already knew exactly what was wrong.

"I can't concentrate," I said, "And I'm a bit frustrated."

"I can see that," she said, "But why do you feel that way?" I sighed and leaned back against the hard wood of the kitchen chair.

"Because. . . I miss her," I admitted softly, "A lot." Mother nodded and I fiddled with the hem of my Bob Marley t-shirt.

"Well, that's perfectly normal," she informed me, "I mean, it's been. . . what? Two, maybe three, weeks?"

"Three weeks and two days," I answered, "But who's counting?" She smiled softly at me and I just stared back as I pouted.

"Love sucks, doesn't it?"

"More than I'd like it to," I said, folding my hands on my lap, "I need a vacation."

"You're on one," my mother said.

"No, I'm sitting on my ass doing nothing," I said, "I need to go out."

"Then go out," mother said enthusiastically, "It's a big world, you're a big man, and you've got big money. There's nothing holding you back."

"Except for a big heart that's too stupid to let go of a big problem," I whined. "I miss her, Mama."

"I'm sure she misses you too."

"Then why hasn't she called?" I asked.

"Why haven't you called?"

"Because she's wrong," I said, "She's always wrong and I'm not crawling back to her like that. I can't." My mom shrugged.

"Well, there you go," she said as if I should've been less confused.

"What?" I asked.

"You're not calling her because she's wrong, right?" I nodded. "Well, maybe she thought you were wrong too. . . in some weird, twisted way."

"That's bullshit," I spat, "I didn't do anything."

"Well, you kicked her out," my mom said before quickly adding, "Not that that was wrong, but maybe she's a little hurt that you were suddenly so rash. Or maybe she knows she's wrong and can't face you and admit it." I took in her words and compared them with who Teresa was. It seemed to make perfect sense. It did make perfect sense, but I still wanted her to call. I just wanted to know if she was alright.

"Okay, mom," I said, "You're right. I'll just wait for her to come around and apologize." She nodded approvingly and smiled at me.

"Good, baby. That's good." I smiled. "Now, where are you headed?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what are you going to do to cure your boredom," she said, "I was serious about this world being a big place."

"Where do I start then?" I asked.

"What do you want out of this trip?"

"Fun. Lots and lots of fun," I said, "Oh, and food. Food would be nice."

"Fun and food, huh?" She thought for a moment before smiling. "I know just the place."

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

The next two days seemed to fly by as I, rather Trace, planned my trip. Tickets, hotel room, cars, bodyguards. . . You know, the usual. I was actually excited about it. I was sitting next to him, as giddy as a kid on Christmas, when he set everything up. South Beach. That's where I'm going. My mom told me that if I didn't have fun there, I wouldn't have fun anywhere. It was like Disney for adults, she claimed. I remember sending my mom there once with my Aunt Laurel for Mother's Day and she came back ranting and raving. I've never been, surprisingly. I lived in Florida, for goodness sake. It goes to snow you that people really do forget about the little things.

Anyway, I'm finishing up some last minute packing when I spot my cell phone on its charger. I suddenly remember Teresa and my spirits damper. She had almost escaped my mind for an hour. I know, it's sad, but give me some credit. I used to struggle to keep her from my head for two seconds, let alone an hour. But now that she was back where I didn't need her to be, I got the urge to call.

Not to apologize or ask her back, but to just check up on her and let her know I won't be home for a while just in case she swings by. No, I shouldn't. If she picks up and actually apologizes, I'll be cancelling my flight on her call, but I can't avoid her forever. You don't make a problem better by avoiding it. Confrontation is what clears it up.

I wasn't much for confrontation though.

I sat on my bed and sighed. To call or not to call, that is the question. The answer came soon enough when I dialed her familiar digits and pressed the phone to my ear. I swear, it was a subconscious move. A force of habit, maybe. Whatever it was, I couldn't hang up no matter how much my stomach knotted up with every ring. I breathed a sigh of relief when her voicemail came up.

"This is Teresa and you know the deal." It beeped and I choked on my own spit when I went to speak. I coughed and took a deep breath.

"Umm. . . Hey." Nice intro, genius. "It's. . . me. Ha. Well, I'm just calling to, uh, check on you. It's been quite a while and I was just a bit concerned that you haven't called or visited. Not that I, like, mind or anything, but yeah. . . I just wanted you to know that I'm going away for a while, so I won't be home. . . You can still get back at me though. I've got my cell. You know the number. . . Oh. . .umm. . . I miss you and I hope you know that, but also know that I still need time. Okay? Okay. Well, just call back and let me know you're fine. . . Bye, Teresa."

I hung up and felt my cheeks burning. I was completely embarrassed. How do you embarrass yourself when there's nobody around and you did nothing but leave a freakin' message? I don't know, but I know my face was red. I could feel it and see it once I looked up in my bureau's mirror and saw my reflection. I rolled my eyes and felt extremely stupid.

When did I become such a loser?

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

I was absolutely estatic.

Shane and I have been so good these last few weeks. I can honestly say that we've grown more in that time than we have in years. I don't know why things changed. I don't know why Shane suddenly took notice of my existance, but I'm glad he did. The drama seemed to ceased and the awkwardness is gone. The only thing we've been is happy.

Happy. With Shane, at that. Who would of have thought that was possible? Certainly not me. I'm almost glad that Justin kicked me out. Had he not have, I would've called out of work and Shane wouldn't have surprised me. We wouldn't have shared almost a mouth of loving and caring and we certainly wouldn't be going on a small vacation to celebrate a renewal of faith in our relationship.

Yes, travel. The last place Shane took me was work when my car was in the shop. But now I'm all packed up and ready to go. Just two more hours before my flight.

"Shane," I said, walking into our bedroom with my sundress in my hand, "I was trying to find the skirt you were talking about, but I couldn't, so I'll take this little dress instead. Same difference, right?" I folded it and unzipped my suit case, squeezing it on the side, right above my paired up flip flops.

"Teresa-"

"That reminds me," I interrupted, "I had to redo your suit case for you. You folded it kinda lopsided, so I organized it. Now you can fit some of those CDs you wanted to bring."

"Teresa." I looked up when Shane said my name.

"Sorry for interrupting," I apologized, "What were you going to say?"

"I was going to ask you what this was." He held up my phone and I made a face.

"It's a cell phone," I said slowly, "Say it with me. Cell. Phone."

"I know what the hell this is," he said, standing from his spot on the bed and stalking over towards me, "But what the hell is this?" He pressed a few buttons and I waited.

"Umm. . . Hey." I froze the moment Justin's voice rang through the air and Shane turned up the volume on the speaker phone. "It's. . . me. Ha. Well, I'm just calling to, uh, check on you. It's been quite a while and I was just a bit concerned that you haven't called or visited. Not that I, like, mind or anything, but yeah. . . I just wanted you to know that I'm going away for a while, so I won't be home. . . You can still get back at me though. I've got my cell. You know the number. . . Oh. . .umm. . . I miss you and I hope you know that, but also know that I still need time. Okay? Okay. Well, just call back and let me know you're fine. . . Bye, Teresa."

He slammed the shut and tossed it hastily on the bed. "What the hell does he miss you for?" I was in stunned silence, glancing at the phone and back at him.

"I. . ."

"You what?!" he yelled. I sighed and rubbed my temples.

"Shane, look, you weren't around-"

"Are you kidding me?"

"It's Justin, okay?" I said, "It's just Justin."

"That same faggot you fucked around with before?" he growled.

"Don't say that."

"What? The truth?" he asked, "You're still with him?"

"No," I admanently denied. "We haven't been together since me and you started working out. I swear." It wasn't a lie this time, but Shane still remained unsure.

"You promised me that you two were finished a while back and now he's calling you and missing you."

"You promised me you were done too," I shot back. "Don't act all high and mightly, Shane. You're just as bad, if not worse, than me."

"See? This is exactly why we're fucked up," Shane groaned. "Too many lies."

"We're working on that though."

"Teresa-"

"Shane, please," I cooed, silencing him by placing my index finger against his lips, "Let's not even talk about this anymore."

"When are you going to talk about it?"

"I don't know, but not now." He sighed. "Look, we spent a lot of time and money on this trip. I plan on enjoying it with my boyfriend."

"You're talking about me, right?" I rolled my eyes.

"Of course I'm talking about you," I assured. "I love you, okay?"

"Does that mean you're done with him?" Despite the fact that my heart pulled back, my mouth spoke.

"Yes, I am," I said, "I won't even call him back."

"Promise?"

"Yes," I told him, "I promise." He looked me in the eyes and held strong to his gaze. Then he smiled, so wide that you would've thought he won the lottery.

"Okay," he said, "I love you too." He kissed my forehead and I smiled as we pulled apart, each going toward our packed up suit cases. Justin was now swarming through my head, but I pushed him back and thought about the vacation ahead of me. No drama. Just fun.

South Beach, here I come.

Crowded


I was three days into this vacation and I had yet to have fun.

Sure, Trace and I hit up a few clubs and stuffed our faces at buffets, but I wasn't too keen on the idea of just wandering around aimlessly, looking at all the couples around me having fun. Everybody from married couples to summer flings made me jealous. They all had somebody and I had nobody. Of course, that could all change if I did more than just dance with a chick, but my heart wasn't into it.

Stupid ass heart.

I'm not in the best of moods either, if you can't tell. Teresa hasn't called me back yet and I was feeling extra rejected. Why is she the one ignoring me? It should be the other way around. Then again, I should be happy that there's no contact between us, right? That was the plan; to get rid of her. But she was suppose to miss me. She was suppose to call, begging for me to forgive her. That's what I wanted. I needed the satisfaction of knowing she needed me. I needed to know that I actually did matter to her.

"Dude," Trace groaned when he walked into the living room of my spacious penthouse and found me lounging on the sofa with the remote in my hand. "We're in South Beach. South Beach. Hot girls, great weather. . . food!"

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "I'm just not feeling it today."

"You haven't felt it since we got here," Trace said, pushing my stretched out legs from the couch before he plopped down. I glared at him and sat up straight.

"Well, maybe I shouldn't have wasted my time and money."

"It wouldn't be a waste if you'd get that bitch out of your head and enjoy yourself."

"Don't call her-"

"Shut up," he interrupted, "Don't go defending her ass, alright? She wouldn't have defended you if I had called you a bitch."

"How do you know?"

"Because she doesn't care enough to do anything else for you. Not even call." I turned my attention back to the television without another word. I wanted to hit Trace. Punch him so bad that I'd break his nose because. . . damn it, I don't know. It just pisses me off when he does that. When he's saying exactly what I need to hear, but don't want to.

"Fuck you," I mumbled, "I paid for your ass to be sitting here. Don't try to talk all this shit to me."

"It's not shit," Trace said, "It's truth. And fuck the fact that you paid for me to be here. I'd rather be home than watch you mope around like some turd over some chick."

"She's not some chick."

"Oh, right, I forgot," he said sarcastically, "You love her, right? She's so special and she makes you laugh. . ."

"Yeah, she does," I said.

"Well, I don't see you laughing," he said, "And I for damn sure don't see her." I groaned and turned up the volume of the t.v. I was minding my own business when Trace punched me in the arm with what felt like all his might. I hissed in pain before punching him right back. He rubbed his arm as I rubbed mine, glaring at him.

"You're really mature," I said sarcastically. Trace flipped off the television and stood.

"You hit me back, so you're just as 'mature'." I guess he had a point, so I pouted.

"South Beach sucks." Trace rolled his eyes as I whined. He was annoyed and I knew it.

"Look, I don't know what to tell you," he sighed, "I've done all I can to entertain you and keep you-know-who outta your mind, but I give up because it's just not working." I frowned. Not because my best friend who had so much patience I sometimes wondered how it all fit into his little body gave up on me, but because I was pitful.

I've gotten drunk, high, and everything inbetween, yet here I was. Sulking and pouting because of her. Yes, her. I've just discovered that not saying her name eases the pressure in my temples and doesn't hurt quite as bad.

"Sorry," I apologized meekly as he sat back down, "I'm just not in a party mood, I guess."

"No," he corrected, "You're jadipped." I furrowed my brows, throughly confused.

"What?"

"Jaded and whipped," he explained simply, "Jadipped." I felt myself get angry and embarrassed before I finally decided he was right. I was in fact jadipped.

"It's really sad that you have to make up words to describe me." I tried to laugh, but it came out dry and fake. More of a weesy grunt than anything.

"Yeah," Trace agreed, "It is." He didn't say anything after that. In fact, he left after a fifteen minute awkward silence, promising he'd come back before ten to try one more club before 'officially' giving up. Even though I wasn't up for it, I said okay. Clubbing used to be fun, but every woman seems so plain now. So boring and the same as the next. They were fun to dance with, but not good enough to take home to mama.

I know I'm wrong and probably sound really gay, but that's just the way I feel. I miss her. More than I should and more than I thought I would. I love her way too much.

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

Damn, I miss him.

I stare down at Brownie, my childhood teddy bear that hasn't left my side since I was four, and sighed. Justin thought it was as cute as it was laughable and even bought him a Misses Justin named Cookie. I had packed her up with the rest of the things Justin had gotten me right before Shane and I left and as I stare down at the teddy in my hands, I realize he misses her.

"I'm sorry, Brownie," I whispered comfortingly to the chocolate brown bear in my arms, "No Justin means no Cookie. Too many memories, babe." His small black eyes stared at me, just like they always have, but I told myself he was angry and didn't want to understand. I couldn't blame him. I took away his love.

"What do you think?" Shane emerged from our hotel's bathroom, dressed in a pair of dark denium jeans and a pastel green button up shirt. He had on white Nike Airs and shades on, looking model-like in his GQ pose. I smiled and nodded approvingly, taking him all in.

"You look good," I commented, "Hot, actually." He smiled brightly and strolled over to me.

"You look good yourself," he said, leaning down and kissing me gently.

"Thank you," I said as he sat down next to me on the bed.

"What's this?" He reached over and took Brownie from my arms, looking disgusted and confused.

"It's Brownie," I said, reaching to retrieve him, but he moved him just out of my reach.

"Why'd you bring this thing?" he asked, examining it.

"I bought him because I can't leave him home alone for a week."

"It's a toy."

"It's my teddy," I corrected, going for him again, "Give me it."

"Can I just throw it out?"

"No!" I yelled, "Give it."

"Damn, whatever." He tossed Brownie on the bed like trash before standing up, "Let's go already. I don't want to be stuck in line for hours." He stood and stuck his hand out for me to take it. I stared at him before glancing back at Brownie lying crooked in the middle of the bed. Sad. Hurt. Confused. He reminded me of myself in that moment. Our feelings both disregarded by Shane who was still hovering above me, waiting for me to take his hand.

Even though my stomach knotted up in disargreement and doubt, I took his hand in mine and allowed him to pull me up from the bed. I grabbed my purse from the bureau in our hotel suite and glanced back at Brownie. I frowned, getting the strong urge to fix him up and make him comfortable before I left, but Shane pulled me out the door before I got a chance to. As we made her way down to the lobby via the elevator, my mind went back to Justin. Now he was just like Brownie. A crumpled mess tossed to the side because of Shane. I had saved his message and replayed it when Shane was in the shower, right before bed. Sometimes I got up and walked out to the living room and played it again.

I missed him. His light and soothing voice was more comforting than Shane's deep and gruff one. I wanted to call him and tell him that, but I was scared and embarrassed. Shy more like it. I didn't know what to say to him. He had thrown me out on my ass and only called me once saying he missed me. I was confused by it all. Why miss me if you're the one who kicked me out? I figured he was probably drunk, but I knew drunk Justin. He would've been laughing the whole time. He probably would've yelled or something weird and out of character would've been done.

So maybe he did miss me. But what if I call and he changed his mind and regretted calling? I wasn't gonna play myself like that. Besides, why mess up the good thing Shane and I have? After all these years I feel like we're a real couple again. Only bickering occassionally and laughing all the time. I'm not going to fuck that up.

"Okay, so it took me a while to even locate this damn place," Shane said suddenly as he unlocked the doors to his rented Rolls Royce.

"What's so great about this place?" I asked as I got in and he walked over to his driver's side.

"Well," he said, pulling the door shut behind him as he finally settled in with me, "It's hot."

"Hmm. . ." I mumbled, "Hot, huh?"

"Yep," he smiled, "Sizzlin'!" I giggled lightly and shook my head.

"Okay," I said, "But does this club have a name?"

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

"Olive."

"Olive?" I made a face as I questioned Trace who was sitting comfortably in the backseat with me as Mike drove us to this hot club Trace has been raving about for the last ten minutes.

"Yep," he said simply, smiling even wider.

"What kind of name is Olive?"

"I heard the guy who owns the place named it after his daughter."

"Why would you name your kid Olive?" I wrinkled my nose, making a mental note to smack anyone who suggested that name for my future child.

"Why would you name your kid Justin?" Trace shot back.

"The same reason why you would name him Juan and nickname him Trace." I smiled and looked him square in the eye. He bit his bottom lip and shoved me.

"Bitch." I laughed lightly and turned to look out the window. I felt my stomach sink as I looked at the crowd forming outside of Olive. Girls who looked like video hoes were in packs and guys who wanted those video hoes were looking them all up and down like the were pieces of meat. This was the typical club scene and the more I took it in, the more I wanted to crawl back into bed.

"Why are we here again?" I asked, pressing my forehead to the glass as I slumped over. Trace sighed and I blinked before glancing back at him, "Sorry. I'll stop complaining now."

"Thank you." I smirked. I guess it can't be too bad. Drinks. Music. Girls. Trace. I had everything I needed and I was as far away from her as possible. In fact, the moment I got into the club, she was as far away from my mind as possible. Especially since Trace and I met up with Francy and Fairrah; identical twins. Not only were these girls gorgeous and foreign (Peruvian to be exact), they were dancers. Really, really good dancers. We stuck with them most of the night, laughing and talking the night away. Everything was going so well that I was actually enjoying myself for the first time and without any physical harm from Trace.

"Justin?" I looked at Fairrah when she all but moaned my name out. My eyebrows perked in interest as I leaned into her to hear what she had to say over the music.

"Yes?" I replied, smiling all the while. She leaned over and her lips grazed my ear as she whispered.

"Do you want to go to VIP?" She pulled away far enough for me to see the sparkle in her eyes, confirming all the intentions she had. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to and I'd be lying if I said I didn't take her hand and pull her from the table we had been sharing with Trace and her sister before they disappeared just minutes before into the dancefloor. And I'd really be lying if I said I wasn't close to having a heart attack when I spotted the last person I thought I'd see in South Beach just a few feet away from me at the bar.

"Teresa." The pain shot right to my heart and temples when I mumbled her name beneath my breath, trying desperately to wipe her image from my eyes by blinking. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe I was having a really bad dream.

"Justin?" Fairrah called over the bass, tugging my arm lightly. I glanced down at her, catching an amused and confused glimmer in her bright blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. Her face twisted up in confusion before she laughed awkwardly.

"For what?" Her hands ran through his thick black hair and I glanced back at Teresa, sitting down comfortably at the bar, and remember how good her hair smelled.

"I have to find my friend," I said, "I have to go."

"Why?" I took a hold of her hand and bought it to my lips, kissing it gently.

"Please excuse me." I left her side and practically ran through the club, looking for any sign of Trace. As I bobbed and weaved through the crowd, my heart raced. Suddenly I felt like I was suffocating.

Don’t get me started, it’s getting kinda crowded in here
Back up off me, I’m feeling like I’m suffocating. . .

"Whoa, where's the fire?" I stopped looking when Trace skid to a stop in order not to bump into my rushed form. I rolled my eyes when he smiled up at me and he took the hint that I wasn't playing around. "What's wrong, man?"

"She's here!" I said loudly since we were standing right by the speakers. Trace gestured that he couldn't hear me, so I placed my hand on his back and guided him towards the bathrooms. We made our way inside and I checked every stall to make sure it was clear.

"What were you saying?" Trace asked, arms crossed.

"She's here," I said.

"Who?"

"Teresa." His face went from shocked to angry.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" I shrugged.

"I don't know, but I have to go. Now." Trace sucked his teeth.

"No way," he said, "You're not running away from her. You have to show her that you're okay."

"But I'm not," I stated, "I can't deal with her right now. I want to go."

"Well, go," Trace huffed, "But I'm staying."

"What?" I said, "No. You have to leave with me. What if she sees me or something?"

"Keep walking."

"I don't think I can."

"You really are a bitch." There wasn't a hint of a smile on his face and I was offended.

"I'm not a bitch," I argued, "I just. . . can't."

"Too bad," he said, "If you'll excuse me, I have a very hot girl to dump."

"What?"

"Elisha, duh," Trace said, "I only talked to Fancy because you seemed to like Fairrah."

"Whatever, man," I sighed, "Why can't you dump her and then leave with me?"

"Because there's a time to run and there's a time to fight. You gotta fight. Even if you don't think you're ready, you have to put up a huge front like you're okay. Don't let her think she's winning. If you want her to need you, you have to make yourself as unavailable as possible. Be a dick. Be a jerk. Treat her like she smacked your mama. No, don't do that. That's murder right there." I laughed because it's true and Trace smiled.

"Okay," I said. "But when I'm done playing her, can I please leave?" He rolled his eyes.

"Sure," he said, "We can leave."

Now here’s my problem, I’m not gonna be your man on the side
Forget about it, you know damn well it wouldn’t be right. . .

Trace and I took our separate ways when we left the bathroom and danced with a girl as I looked around for Teresa. I tried not to be obvious and I clearly wasn't because when I glanced to my right, she was there, grinding into some man. I felt myself burn with jealously and anger as she reached behind her and ran her hands down his face. The way her hips moved with his was too sensueous for me to bare and I took my eyes away, focusing more on the unidentified female in front of me, pressing her ass into my crotch as I rubbed up against her.

I don’t know what you been thinking bout me. . .

It wasn't until I was halfway through making babies with the girl I was dancing with that I a familiar voice called out to me.

"Damn, Justin," she shouted over the music, "Don't break her." Everything in me wanted to stop at the sound of her voice and immediately replace the chick in front of me with her, but then I remembered what Trace and my mother had told me.

Did you think this was gonna be that easy?
Hell no you must be going crazy. . .

I ignored her. Flat out ignored her. Even though I could feel her presence and hear her voice, I pretended to by lost in the music and so entranced by the body in front of me that she didn't exist in that moment. I surprised myself so much I smiled. I was proud, especially when she called me again and all I did was flip the girl around and grinded into her.

Why don’t you get out of my life, get out of my sight
Get off of my back . . .

Then I felt the jab of her finger right in my shoulder bone and I stopped dancing. The woman in my arms gave me her back again and touched her toes, dipping down and up again.

"What?" I asked irritably. Teresa was annoyed, I could see it past her phony smile.

"I got your call." I sighed and looked away from her. I could feel my will breaking down.

"Yeah. . ." I mumbled, not knowing what to say.

"I miss you too." My heart lept in my chest when the words left her mouth and I found myself straining my neck to look at her. She smiled softly; more sincere. I've seen that smile before. It was happiness and an apology wrapped up into one. It was 'haha, I got you again' and 'oh, you're so easy'. It was 'I want your body, not your heart'. It was everything I didn't want or need.

I know what’s going on
I won’t be second to none. . .

"Well," I said, "Sounds like a personal problem." Her smile flattered and, as if I planned it, the girl I was dancing with turned around and placed her hand on my cheek, demanding my attention again. Although part of me wanted to turn back around and retrack my previous statement, another part of me didn't. Another part of me was happy that this girl I didn't even know had some how helped me do something in a second that I couldn't do in years: turn my back on Teresa. Ignore her existant. Not gravel at her feet and accept another one of her lame ass apologies. And I was grateful.

Back off 'cause you’re crowding my space
You need to get out of my face. . .

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

I was in shock when I turned around and stomped off from Justin's back as he continued to dance with that stupid, fake, video hoe-dancing bitch. Who the hell was she anyway? Was she a new girlfriend? No. . . it's too soon after us. . . but there really was no us. . . but there was to him. . . right?

"Ugh." I was officially pissed off. I knew I should've just turned my head the other way when I saw him dancing, but no. I had to lie to Shane and say I was tired and thristy so he would walk away to get me a drink as I spoke to Justin. Served me right. I knew that message was bullshit.

Sounds like a personal problem? That asshole.

"Yo, where'd you go?" I turned and saw Shane walking up to me with a martini glass in his hand. "I went to find you where I left you at on the floor and were gone.

"Sorry," I apologized, scooting over in the booth I somehow made my way to in the mist of my anger. He sat and I scanned the crowd for any sign of Justin. He was now dancing with a new girl with blonde hair. I guess the other girl wasn't special after all.

"What are you looking at?" I cupped Shane's face in my hands before he could see Justin and turned his attention back to me.

"Nothing," I lied, "You got something right here." I pretended to clean something from his cheek and smiled weakly when I was done.

"Here," Shane said, pushing my drink over to me, "Apple." I nodded approvingly before plucking out the olive and chugging it down. Shane laughed and I smiled.

"What?" I asked.

"You really needed that, didn't you?" I shrugged. "Are you mad about that bear?" I rose a brow before I finally remembered Brownie's crumpled image.

"No," I lied again, "Some bitch just irked my nerves a little."

"What happened?" I shrugged again, trying to make up a story to tell him.

"She was just mad because she looks a mess and I don't," I stated nonchalantly, "You know. Girl stuff."

"Uh huh. . ." Shane said, taking a swing of the beer in his hands. Silence fell between us, but my mind was going a mile a minute. Everything was Justin. I knew he might be a little angry, but not to the point of being an ass to me. He threw me out, not the other way around. I didn't even leave him. If I knew he'd act like this, I would've just left. Maybe things wouldn't be this divided. The look on his face when he saw me was anything, but pleased. I felt unwanted by him for the first time in a long time. In fact, the last time I felt this rejected by him was when I told him about Shane.

"You wanna dance?" Shane asked suddenly when the DJ announced that Ciara's 'Get Up' was coming up. I debated over it as the beat came through the speakers. Everybody cheered and gathered together on the floor. I saw Justin just across the floor. Him and that midget Trace were standing together with two other girls, smiling and moving around to the beat. They looked so happy. He looked so happy.

"No, go 'head and dance with someone else." Shane looked over my features for a moment before he reached out and held my chin in his hand.

"You sure you're alright?" I rolled my eyes playfully and took his hand in mine. I brought it to my lips and kissed his fingertips gently.

"Go. Have fun." He sighed and stood, walking out and mingling into the crowd. I rested my head in my hands and took his bottle of beer from its coaster. I stared at the Miller Lite label and then looked up. Though the club was dark, I say the quick glance Justin had given me and I saw the even quicker frown that crossed his face.

He used to smile when he saw me.

I brought the brown bottle to my mouth and took the cool liquid down in one gulp. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and scanned the floor again. Justin had disappeared and Shane was long gone. I was alone, angry, confused, and in much need of a drink. A very, very strong drink.

A light bulb went off in my head and I got up and went straight for the bar. The woman working the bar did tricks as some guy stared at her in amazement. I watched her work also, finding it as interesting as it could be since I was ready to leave now, with or without Shane.

"Need something strong?" It took me a second to realize she was talking to me and she smiled. "I'll take that as a yes." I had no idea what she was making, but vodka and some type of cream was involved. Whatever it was ended up being topped with whipped topping.

"Thanks." She winked and nodded.

"On the house." I smiled. Finally, some good news. I licked the topping off and swirled the drink around in the glass before finally taking a sip. It was cold and sweet, but bitter with Vodka. I liked it. No, I loved it.

"This is really good!" I commented over the music. She nodded and smiled again before taking orders from two other women. By the fifth sip I recognized the sweetness as Coconut and the cold was from the ice. I drank it up and she sent me another without me having to say anything. I hope this is on the house too 'cause Lord knows I don't have any money.

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

I woke up in pain. Complete and utter pain. My head. My back. My legs. My di-

"Good morning. . ." My eyes slide open when an unfamiliar hand slide down my chest. I groaned when the sun hit my face and tried to remember where the hell I was.

"Mornin'." I didn't see what was so good about it, especially since I didn't have a clue when this girl with bright blue eyes was. She looked vaguely familiar, but still a stranger.

"Did you sleep well?" I caught onto the accent quick and matched the eyes and hair of this stranger to one of the twins from Olive. What the hell was her name? Faith. . . Fairy. . .Francheska. . .

"Um. . . yeah," I lied, sitting up and causing her to get off of me. I looked down at the white sheets covering me and remember them being part of my hotel suite. Now I knew where I was. I just can't remember how I got here and what happened in between.

"Yeah?" she questioned. I felt the bed shifting behind me before the feel of her warm, soft breast pressed against my back.

"Yep," I answered nonchalantly. I was uncomfortable with her being so comfortable, especially when she ran her hands down my chest and whispered in my ear.

"That's funny 'cause I don't remember us doing much sleeping." She giggled and I smiled, that same cocky smirk that's been associated with me a miillion times in the past. It's not that I was, but I had to be cocky sometimes. Especially in situations like this. I couldn't make it seem like I'm a punk in a panic, even though I kind of am.

"Well . . . um. . ." Damn it, what is her name?

"Fairrah," she supplied before nipping on my ear. I enjoyed the feeling for a moment.

"Fairrah, I have a meeting to attend to," I lied. She instantly pulled away from me and scooted back over to her side of the bed.

"All you had to say was leave." I smiled.

"That would've been kind of rude."

"No, forgetting my name is rude," she corrected, "Asking me to leave instead of lying is not."

"Sorry," I apologized, "I hope you didn't get any ideas from last night."

"No, I didn't," she shrugged off as she stood from the bed, completely naked and gorgeous, might I add. She walked around carelessly as she picked up items of her clothing and got dressed. I sat in the center of the bed and watched.

"I had fun," I said, even though I couldn't remember half of what we talked about or any of the sex we had.

"Me too," she said, "Exvcept when we said 'Teresa'. That I didn't like."

"What-"

"No, no. It's okay," she shushed, "You didn't remember my name, right? So you made up another one, so what." I didn't know what to say to that, so I nodded. "It's not the end of the world."

"Okay." This was awkward. She was just stand there, staring at me like I was suppose to do something.

"It was nice knowing you Mr. Timberlake." She walked over to me and leaned down to kiss my cheek. "Maybe another time, eh?" I shrugged.

"Maybe." She smiled and nodded before waving goodbye. I have to say she's one of the nicest one-nighters I've ever had. I usually have to run out before day break in order to keep them from begging me to stay or forcing me to stay, for that matter. Fairrah was a refreshing change, but her informing me of my name mix up was anything but refreshing.

Damn it. No matter how hard I try, she's always there in my mind. Waiting for the perfect moment to ruin something for me. . . even sex. Ugh.

"Get out of my head," I demanded to nobody as I ran my hands over my buzzed head. I closed my eyes, letting the pain that shot through my forehead the moment I spoke pass. Knowing she could be anywhere near me made me sick with desire and confusion and anger. I wanted her gone, but I wanted her here. I missed her, but then again I didn't. . . Okay, who am I kidding? I miss her. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, yet . . . I can't figure out why.

I know her. I know the games she plays. I know in my heart that she didn't come down here alone. Shane has to be somewhere. . . or worse, someone else. I really wouldn't put it past her.

I had to leave. I had to leave this room. This city. This state. I needed to get away from her. This place may be big, but now that she's here too, it feels cramped. . . crowded.

"Yo." I hadn't realized I picked up the phone, let alone dialed Trace's number, but I knew why I called.

"Pack your bags," I said, "We're going home."

______________________________

Song Credit(s):

"Crowded" - Jeannie Ortega

Comes Back Around


I woke up the next day with a headache like no other. In fact, I think it might've been a migraine because I would rather get hit by a tracker trailer than wake up like that again. Hangovers. The expected, yet unexpected, aftermath of shots of Tequila and a coconut combination I never had before. I groaned and pulled the sheets over my head. It was all I could do not to throw a shoe at the open window in my suite, trying to kill the glaring sun shining through.

Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep again, waking up a few hours later into the day. I was surprised that I was migraine free and ultimately refreshed by my nap. I was also surprised that Shane was nowhere in sight and hadn't bothered waking me up. That is until I looked to my right. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I read the clock on the wall. 4:52pm. Jesus, how did I sleep the day away?

I hopped out of bed, my feet sinking into the soft carpet. I stretched my arms above my head and stood on my tippy toes, pulling every muscle upward before yawning. I settled down and made my way over to the bathroom. I stood in front of the sink and looked over my face. I frowned. I didn't like my fresh out of bed look. It was tight and uncomfortable, which is what my stomach was when I my mind suddenly flashed back to last night.

To Justin. To rejection. To drinking.

On cue, my temple ached and I fumbled with the medicine cabinet lock. I pushed my toothpaste aside and grabbed the aspirin bottle. I'm happy I thought to bring this. I took two with water from the sink before brushing my teeth and washing my face. I looked over my face again and was glad to see I was looking better.

My pills kicked in quickly and I was grateful, but my head was pounding with thoughts of Justin. He was such an ass to me and despite the fact that I earned it, it still bothered me that he was capable of giving such a cold shoulder. I pouted as I sat on the edge of the tub and turned on the water. My fingers were dipping into the steady flow of warm liquid when a thought occurred.

Sex.

That has always been a good distraction and though my usual escape was Justin, the tables were turned today. Shane was now the one that would remove Justin from my mind. I smiled to myself and turned on the shower before stripping down to nothing and walking out to the bedroom. He wasn't there, I noticed, before I remembered he wasn't there when I had woken up either. Not that I really expected him to sleep in so late. Shane was always an early bird.

Nevertheless, I trotted over to my bureau and pulled out a short, silky robe that felt like heaven on my skin when I put it on. I quietly made my way out of the room and down the halls, looking for any sign of my boyfriend. I was about to give up on the idea when I finally heard him in the kitchen. I gracefully strolled over to the dining area, ready to pounce, until his voice hit my ears.

"I can't," he said, presumably into the phone since I didn't hear anybody else. "I'm busy. . ." I arched a brow and crept up toward the kitchen. His back was to me as he sat on a stool in front of the kitchen island in a wife beater and sweats. ". . . You know I want to, but I'm suppose to be working on-" I paused my breathing when he stopped talking. He didn't say anything or moved from his seat until he laughed and scratched the back of his neck. "Look. . . I. . . Yeah, I know. . . Really?" What the hell was he talking about? Better yet, who was he talking to? "Don't say that. . . Baby, come on. . ."

Baby? Oh hell no.

"Excuse me!" I exclaimed, sending him flying from his seat and ducking like I was going to throw something. Believe me, I wanted to, but there was nothing hard enough to toss.

"Look, I gotta go-" Shane began to say into the phone before I interrupted.

"Oh no, don't end your conversation on my account," I said sarcastically, "You and your baby can go right ahead with your boo-loving session. I'll just sit back and relax."

"Yeah," Shane said, staring at me as he continued to speak, "I'll talk to you." He hung up and a feeling of deja vu passed over me.

"You've got some nerves. . ." I told him with my arms crossed on my chest defensively.

"Look-"

"I thought we were working on us, Shane," I cut in, "How are we suppose to work on us if you're still working on other bitches?!"

"Don't even give me that shit," Shane said, "You can't go pointing fingers-"

"Yeah, I can," I argued, "I'm not the one calling people up trying to get some ass-"

"It wasn't even like that!"

"Then what was it like?" I asked, "Huh, Shane? Answer the fuckin' question."

"Maybe if you shut the fuck up I could!"

"Who are you talking to like that?"

"Nobody," he said, "Absolutely nobody." I bit my tongue and breathed in deeply before exhaling just as strongly.

"You are just. . . unbelievable," I mumbled, "And this is getting really old." I looked down at the floor, willing myself not to cry. We stood quietly and he shifted from foot to foot before sighing deeply.

"Look, I'm sorry," he apologized as I rolled my eyes.

"Don't," I said, silencing him with my hand.

"Baby. . ." I scoffed.

"How many 'baby's do you have?" He gave me a bored look.

"Teresa. . ."

"That's better." I glared at him and his expression softened.

"Can we just. . ." he began as he moved in on me,". . . forget about this?" I backed away and he wrapped me up in his arms. I pushed his chest away and shook my head.

"I'm not. . . I'm not doing this again," I told him.

"It was a stupid phone call."

"Was it the first stupid phone call?" I asked. When he didn't answer I laughed bitterly. "That's what I thought." Shane continued to tower over me and I just stood there, not knowing what to do. I was mad, but too tired to fight.

"I can't help it if they call me," he said suddenly.

"You can ignore the calls."

"They'll keep calling."

"Then keep ignoring them," I stated firmly.

"I can't."

"Why not?!" I cried, "Why can't you? Why can't you just. . . stop?!" My voice cracked and I felt hot tears against my cheeks.

"I'm sorry. . ." Shane cooed, crowding my space I again. I pushed him away with what little strength I had and wiped my face. I felt his hands gently pushing mine aside to dry my tears and I turned away.

"Don't. . . touch me," I said weakly, "Don't. . ." I walked away from him and back to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. I looked into the mirror above the sink and took in my puffy red eyes. I hated who I saw. This broken, weak woman I never wanted to be. I looked away, shamefully, as I removed my robe, allowing it to fall to the floor.

I climbed into the shower and allowed the water to wash over me. I placed my face beneath the steady stream coming from the showerhead and let it hide my tears and muffle my sobbing.

I officially hated South Beach.

================================================

I should really kick Trace's little smurf ass, but I won't. Not that I still don't want to, but my anger has lessen over the last three hours and I've actually caught myself smiling and laughing a few times. That's quite surprising. I never thought I could have fun on a blind, unannounced date, but now I know better.

Or maybe I just got off lucky this time around.

"I'm a pediatrician." I looked up and nodded approvingly, genuinely impressed.

"So you like kids, I presume," I commented.

"Yeah," she replied happily, "I love 'em." Points for her. Her being Nicole. Peterson. Nicole Peterson. I liked her name. I liked her. At least I did so far. It was only the first date and it was a double one, shared with Trace and Elisha. Although it felt more like a single since they were too busy flirting and giggling in their own happy world. Not that I mind. Nicole made me feel comfortable and made me laugh every two seconds, which earns her more points.

But I wasn't ready to let her know that.

"So. . ." she began as she tried to supress a smile, "What do you do for a living?" I chuckled.

"Well. . ." I laughed, "That's a ridiculous question." She shrugged.

"I thought it was only fair to ask," she told me, "Besides, I got a laugh out of you."

"Yeah," I agreed, "You did." I looked her in her bright brown eyes and smirked. "I love your eyes." It wasn't until the words left my mouth that I wanted to kick myself. "I'm sorry, I just. . . um. . ."

"It's okay," she said, saving me from a stutter extravaganza. "I love your eyes too." And I blushed like a freakin' third grader.

"Thank you," I said, clearing my throat, "So. . . why kids?" She made a face. "Why the career choice?" I clarified.

"Well, I don't know. . ." she shrugged, "I guess it combined my two loves - kids and the medical field. Besides, I get to spend my days watching Barney and eating cookies."

I smiled. "I don't know about Barney, but I can get down with the cookies."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Nicole said, "That dino has some hidden agendas."

"Right?" I agreed enthusiastically, "Waiting for afterschool when the adults are gone. . . Telling them to close their eyes and 'imagine' every five seconds. . ." We laughed.

"Lets not forget the mysterious Barney Bag," she added, "I don't even want to know what goodies he has in there." I laughed out loud and shook my head.

"We're terrible, you know that?"

"Yeah, but I accept my flaws." She sighed. "This is actually pretty fun." I smiled.

"I was thinking the same thing," I confessed, "I thought it would be so weird. . ."

". . . And awkward. . ."

". . . And even painful," I chuckled, eliciting a giggle from her, "But this is nice. . ."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," she said, "Because I was hoping that we could do it again." Did I mention she was confident? Two more points.

"Really?" I asked, trying to sound calm and cool, when I was really anything but.

"Yep," she confirmed, "And I'm pretty sure you want to as well." Make that four points.

"Wow," I said simply, "You're really. . . sure of yourself."

"Is that your way of saying I'm conceited or something?"

"No," I adamently denied, "I meant you're confident, which is a good thing."

"I knew what you meant," she smiled, "I just like to see you sweat." I chuckled.

"Should I be worried?"

"No. . ." she smirked before licking her lips slowly, ". . . maybe." I rose a brow, some unclean thoughts about her tongue running through my mind.

"Why do I get the feeling that that may be a good thing?" All she did was laugh, deep and sensuous. This girl was sexy as hell.

One million points.

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

When I emerged from the bathroom, Shane was nowhere to be found. I figured that he ran out of here to go see whoever was on the phone, but when he came walking into the room a few minutes after I was dressed and ready to go anywhere but here, I knew that wasn't the case.

"Teresa. . ." My back was to him and I didn't care to turn around, or even acknowledge his existance for that matter, so he called my name again. I rolled my eyes and sighed.


Hey girl, is he everything you wanted in a man?. . .


"Can I help you?" I was still pretending that I was looking for something in the bureau's drawer when he wrapped an arm around my waist and turned me around. I was about curse him out for touching me when I took notice of the white roses in his hands. A bouquet of two dozen white roses to be exact. I looked over the white and gold ribbons and the dew covered petals before I looked up at him. "What's this?"

"It's a bouquet."

"No shit, Captain Obvious," I replied bitterly, "What's this about?"

"I take it you don't like them."

"I love them, but that's not the point," I said, "What? Is this suppose to make up for you cheating on me again?" He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"There was no cheating, just words."

"Words that would've lead to actions."

"But they didn't," he said, "And they won't."

"How am I suppose to believe that?" I whined, "Shane, you haven't given me any reason to believe that cheating is out of your system."

"And you've given me a reason to believe that about you?" he shot back.

"I'm not the one making phone calls-"

"No, you're just receiving them and replaying messages." I stiffened. "Yeah, didn't think I knew about that, did you?"


You know I gave you the world
You had me in the palm of your hand. . .


"What are you talking about?" I asked, freigning confusion as I brushed past him and his stupid flowers.

"I'm talking about some whiny bitch calling your phone and leaving some message about missing your ass, and you having the nerves to play it whenever you think I'm not close enough to hear."

"That's. . . different."

"How is that different?" he questioned, "If anything, it's worse."

"Listening to a message and trying to get laid while I'm on a vacation with a person I'm suppose to be working things out with are completely different because I'm not touching or kissing or-"

"But it's still cheating!" Shane yelled, "You're missing somebody that isn't me in a romantic sense. You're emotionally connected to this Justin guy and that's a million times worse then me fuckin' some nameless bitch."

"I'm not. . ." I trailed off, choosing my words carefully, "There's no. . . connection and you're disgusting for even saying it's worse than what you do. That nameless bitch could pass you something that you can pass onto me and-"

"And you never seem to be concerned when I'm fuckin' you, so don't get all worried now." I ran my hands down my face and held in a frustrated scream.


It's breaking my heart to watch you run around
'Cause I know that you're living a lie
That's okay baby 'cause in time you will find. . .


"I have to go. I have to leave now and just get the hell away from you," I announced, walking over to the walk-in closet and grabbing my suitcase. Shane was quiet for a while, but I heard the bed squeak as he sat down and I felt his eyes on me as I tossed in any clothes I could get my hands on.

"Tell Justin I said 'hi'," Shane began and I continued to pack as if I didn't hear him, "'Cause that is where you're going, right? Gotta see your precious Justin. . . Your main squeeze. . . Your boo and part-time lover." He laughed. "So tell me. . .is he like Cher or does he have a last name? What does the guy even look like? Is he black? White? Asian? Maybe hispanic? Maybe. . . A little bit of everything? That would be kinda cool. He'd be all exotic and shit. More exciting than me, I guess. Which would explain why you can't seem to let him go. . . Oh, and is he rich too? 'Cause that would make him better than me as well. He's probably really smart and artsy, you usually go for that kind of guy."


What goes around, goes around, goes around
Comes all the way back around. . .


"It's crazy that he has to be all those things to be better than you and yet any bimbo on the street is good enough to bone behind my back," I said, heaving the suitcase off the ground after zipping it up, "You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

"Why is it my job to make you feel special?" Shane asked, "And when did you ever make me feel 'special'?"

"Geeze, I don't know," I said sarcastically, "When I gave you my heart? When I lost my virginity to you? When I cooked and cleaned? When I catered to your ass when you were sick? Is that ringing any bells, Shane?"

"I did the same for you."

"Yeah, and then you just stopped," I stated, "You're the one who strayed away from me. If you had came home to me more than twice a week, maybe we wouldn't be standing here. Maybe we wouldn't be having the same argument over and over and over again."


You spend your nights alone
And he never comes home
And every time you call him
All you get's a busy tone. . .


"I never made you cheat," Shane argued, "You did that on your own free will."

"The thought of cheating on you never even crossed my mind until you started messing around on me."


I heard you found out
That he's doing to you
What you did to me. . .


"So that makes it okay?" he asked, "Two wrongs don't make a right."

"Then stop being wrong and maybe we can make it right." He laughed, dry and unamused.

"You really think it would be that easy?" He looked at me hard and thoughtfully. "I stop cheating and you'll stop fooling around with Justin?"

"Yes." My stomach knotted because I knew I was kidding myself. It wouldn't be that easy, but I could only hope it would.


Ain't that the way it goes?. . .


"I don't mean you stop fuckin' him, I mean you stop caring. You stop missing. You stop dreaming and hoping. . . I mean you completely cut all things Justin from your life." I let out a quiet, shaky breath as the thought of no Justin ever again settled heavily on my stomach. When I imagined how I would hurt whenever I glanced down at a magazine cover when I shopped in the supermarket. When I envisioned seeing him on t.v. smiling and laughing for the cameras, but seeing the sadness deep in his eyes.

I didn't want it. I didn't want it to be like that, but this man in front of me had engraved himself far too deep into my life for me to just up and leave him.

"I understand," I said, "And I'm willing." Shane pushed himself up from the bed with his fists and walked over towards me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. For a moment he just towered over me, observing me and searching my eyes. The room was so quiet that I could hear us both breathing, my breath more quick and jagged than his.

I almost flinched when he suddenly moved his hand from his side and placed on my cheek, gently stroking my face with his thumb. He stared at me longer before completely pulling away.

"I don't believe you," he said simply before he turned around and walked out of the room, just like that.

It wasn't until I heard the front door open and close that I picked my jaw up off of the floor, as well as my suitcase. I was running around the room picking up miscellaneous things when I spotted Brownie on the floor by the bed. I stopped and stared at him before I slowly walked over and retrieved him from the carpeted ground. His soft fur felt like silk against my skin and I was instantly comforted. I hugged the teddy to my chest and took in a deep breath, swearing that I smelt Justin's cologne. I closed my eyes and remenised a while longer, wondering why I even left at all when I could've been curled up to Brownie in my own bed, not worrying about Shane or the rest of the world.

"Let's go get your Cookie." I tucked my bear beneath my arm and slipped on my beaded sandals in the corner of the room. My purse was waiting on the coffee table for me, as well as my cell phone. I grabbed it all and heaved a sigh before I walked out of that hotel room, leaving Shane and all his shit behind.

At least for a little while.


What goes around comes back around. . .

===========================================

"Come here, girl!" I cooed, bending down to place my hand in front of Bella's wet nose, "That's my girl. Yes you are! Yes you are!" Yes she was. She was my oldest and most loved dog. I wish that all woman were as simple as her. A little food, a little pet, and a little attention, and they'd always be loyal and true.

If only.

"I swear, you talk to that dog like it's your baby." My mama laughed, drying her hands with a paper towel as she left the kitchen to greet me and Bella at the door. I smiled brightly and kissed her cheek before we both took a seat on the sofa.

"She is my baby," I told her, "Aren't you, my belle?" She barked in response and stood proudly, jumping up on my leg. "See, she knows I'm her daddy."

"Hmm. . ." she mumbled thoughtfully before tapping my knee with her hand, "So tell me. . . how's things?"

"Good," I answered nonchalantly, petting and playing with Bella on the sofa as she tried to jump up onto my lap. It was a cute, yet sad attempt since she was so small.

"Good as in 'I'm glad it's over' or good as in 'We're hitting it off really well'?" I should've known she was referring to Nicole and I rather than my actual well-being.

"Good as in the latter." She squealed excitedly and I put up my hand to calm her down. "Now, before you start making up wedding plans and discussing grandchildren, I'm going to let you know that we're both taking this really slow. It's only been about two weeks, so the squealing is a bit premature."

"But the fact that you're liking this girl so much is a huge improvement," she said, as if I didn't already know, "God, I can't even remember the last girl you dated." How sad - neither could I.

"Well, that was the old guy," I said smugly, "You're going to see a lot more dating around here."

"I'm sure," she gushed, "Tell me about her. What's she like? Is she religious? Does she cook? Can she dance?"

"Ma. . ." I whined, although I did want to share.

"Come on. . ." She pouted and gave me that stupid 'please' face and I couldn't even hold my ground for a second. Damn it. She's my mama. The least I could do is give her some details.

"Okay, she's Catholic, but not strict about it. She kinda has her own spiritual thing with the big man upstairs. Like me, I guess."

"Oh, something in common!" I laughed at her enthusiasm.

"She can cook. Well, that's what she says anyway. She's coming over this weekend to make dinner - her idea - so I guess I have to wait and see."

"She's already catering to you!" my mom squealed again, "This is so exciting."

"And to answer your last question," I continued though my cheeks were hurting from smiling so much, "She can dance. She's no Ciara, but she has her rhythm. Oh and she has good taste in music. When we went to Xion's the other night with Trace and 'em, the DJ played a couple of songs I loved and she knew every lyric to every track."

"This is so good, baby," my mom breathed, "I'm so happy for you and I can finally see you're happy for yourself as well." I was happy. Very much so. Despite the fact that I had some minor relapses into misses Teresa, I've been steady thus far. Nicole has been a great distraction. I've spoken to her on the phone everyday since our first date and we do have a lot in common. Even when we find things we disagree on (like golf), we find a way to find the good in the bad or we simply state our views and move on.

That was a refreshing change. Conversation. Connection. Anything beyond the physical trap I was once caught in. I felt like a new person. Who would've thought a bad encounter and a blind date ambush would work the miracle it has?

"Yeah, me too, ma." I picked Bella up off the floor and placed her on my lap. "Me too."

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

"Girl, thank you so much," I gushed as I ate a spoon of ice cream, "I'm really sorry this is taking so long. I just don't know how to get the balls to go pack my stuff."

"It's okay," Nicky assured me, "You can stay as long as you want."

"You say that, but do you mean it?" She laughed.

"Now you of all people should know I would kick your ass out if I was annoyed," she said, causing me to smile, "So don't worry. Besides. . . you've been cooking me breakfast and preparing my lunch, so I cannot complain."

"Well, it's the least I can do," I told her, "Besides, I have extra time. With you going out every night, the house is hardly a mess, so I can barely clean for you."

"I know, but I'm not sorry," she laughed, "I think I'm going to have a man by the end of this weekend." I smiled and rose a brow.

"Is that so?" I asked as she nodded. "Will this man be the same person you've been yapping on the phone with for the past two weeks?"

"Yes, it will," she nodded, "Oh, I hope my cooking gets him. He loves to eat, even though he doesn't look it."

"He's one of those skinny little things, huh?"

"Yep, but he is FINE!" We both laughed.

"Well, when do I get to meet this fine brotha?" She giggled and looked away.

"Well, he's not a brotha, per se. . ."

"Oh, okay!" I laughed. "Well, when do I get to meet this young man?"

"I don't know. . ." she mumbled, "Maybe one of these days he'll turn up around here, butt ass naked right next to moi." We both went into hysterics and tears formed in my eyes. She was too much sometimes.

"You are a trip," I commented, "That boy better watch out."

"He is all man," she corrected, "And smart and funny and sweet and respectful. . ."

"Mmm. . ." I mumbled, "Those are the ones that are definitely too good to be true. He might be gay, so watch out."

"He's not gay," she laughed, "But . . . I don't know."

"Don't be shy," I told her, "Not that you're really capable of that."

"Shut up," she smiled, tossing a couch cushion at me, "It's just that he won't. . . make a move."

"Which means he's not perverted."

"Or gay."

"Ha!" I teased, "You caught yourself a fairy." She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.

"I won't lay it on me, girl," she whined, "I mean. . . no hand holding. No kissing. No. . . nothing. And it's not like he hasn't done any of that before."

"Well, how do you know?" I asked, "Maybe he's a virgin."

"Like hell he is," she said, "A man of his profession has to get around."

"What is he?" I asked curiously, "A movie star? A basketball player?"

"Something like that. . ."

"What's with all the secrecy?" I asked, "And who is he anyway?"

"Damn, you ask a lot of questions."

"And you give a little bit of answers," I shot back, "Is he really that great?"

"Yep," she told me, "And that's all you need to know."

"Well, that's ashame," I said, "'Cause all I know right now is that your boy is an uptight, prudish homo with a lot of groupies." She laughed heartily.

"That sounds about right," Nicky yawned, "Anyways, it's getting late, Tee. I'm going to lay the hell down."

"Dreaming of your lover, eh?" She stood from the sofa and smiled mischeviously.

"None of your business, fool," she told me over her shoulder as she ascended upon the stairs, "Don't leave my t.v. on all night. That shit ain't free."

"Yes, Sargent," I said firmly as I saluted her. She chuckled and continued up the stares until I could no longer hear her.

"Oh, Teresa!" Nicole yelled, "You can just come up now 'cause I can't sleep with you being awake and alone. You know I worry." I rolled my eyes, but clicked off the television anyway.

"Damn, Nicky," I whined as I walked upstairs, "You're always bossing me around."

"This is my house and I am a boss," she joked.

"Whatever, child."

"That's Miss. Peterson to you." I shoved her playfully and we both laughed as we separated up the hall and into our own rooms. As I slid into bed, I thanked the Lord for Nicole. I would be out on my ass if it wasn't for her. Shane's house wasn't an option and after Justin's fiasco in South Beach, I wasn't ready to face him just yet. So Nicky opened up her doors to me and I've been doing my part as well as working my ass off to help her with bills she insists I don't pay.

"Yo, Tee," Nicole whispered as she knocked on my door.

"It's open," I informed her. She slowly turned the knob and pushed it open, allowing her to poke her head and shoulders in.

"Do you want to meet him?" she asked evasively, but I knew who she was referring to.

"Damn straight," I smiled.

"Fine 'cause we're meeting up tomorrow and my brother wants to interrogate him." I rolled my eyes at the thought of Jerome.

"Sounds like a plan," I told her. She smiled and even through the darkness it was bright.

"Girl, you're gonna love him, I swear."

"I bit I will," I yawned, "But now I want to love up some sleep." She laughed.

"I feel you," she said, "Goodnight."

"'Night." She shut the door behind her and I turned onto my stomach, tucking my heads beneath my pillow to better support my head. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but I was excited. Excited to meet Nicole's new 'man'. I don't know why. It's not like he was mine, but Nicky hadn't been out much since some Greg character dumped her for his ex about three years back, so this was a huge deal. Whoever this guy was, I liked him already. He made her smile with even being in the room. That was something and I couldn't wait to meet him.



----

Song Credit(s):

"What Goes Around/Comes Back Around" - Justin Timberlake

Lovers and Friends


"Come on. . ." I rolled my eyes at her whining and sighed.

"Nick-"

"Please, Resey. . .Please!" I rolled my eyes, feeling awfully defeated.

"I don't feel like it." That was honest enough.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because. . ." I trailed off, feeling bashful and ashamed as I switched the phone from one ear to another, killing some time.

"Because???" she egged on. I sighed, fiddling around with the remote in my hand as I leaned by into the couch cushions behind my back.

"Because. . ." Because I'm lame I thought before I bit my bottom lip.

I've been putting off this meeting of her 'boyfriend' now for the past three weeks simply because I couldn't deal. I couldn't deal with meeting this wonderful guy that I didn't have. I couldn't deal with the lovey-dovey shit that they were going to do to torture me mercilessly. I just couldn't deal with her happiness being rubbed all in my face as I mourn the loss of two significant male figures in my life. The two figures that I cannot even speak of or hear a mention of their names.

Every night when she came home beaming, I would be laid up on the sofa, stuffing my face with ice cream. I just looked like a lonely bastard and she knew it, so she would always try and cheer me up with how terrible her day at work was and whatever other crap came up. Then she would talk about him. Mr. Casanova himself. She would say he was a great kisser. She would say he smelled good or had strong arms and blah, blah, blah. Everything about him had me reminiscing about my past and how I went from having two to none in a matter of a few weeks.

"Rese. . . please. You're my girl and I'm really feeling this dude. I want you to let me know if I should try and make this serious. I want your honest opinion on him and you can't give me one if you haven't had a single conversation with him."

"Well, the way you blab about him makes it seem like he's an all right guy. What do you need me for?"

"You know how I get with men. . . Praise the good, ignoring the bad." Ain't that 'bout the truth. Nicky sure knew how to pick 'em.

"Nicole. . . Man. . . Shit." She laughed because that was my way of saying 'okay, I'll go', and she loved it when she got her way.

"Thank you. Don't be late." She hung up before I could bitch some more and I threw my head back, biting my lip to prevent myself from screaming.

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

I was nervous. I was meeting one of Nicole's friends. She spoke so highly of this girl that you would swear that she was her mother. She told me they were close. Close enough for her to dissect me piece by piece to make sure I was remotely good enough for her. She laughed when she said it, but I just felt even more bothered by it rather than amused.

I was always the guy whose palms would sweat as he practiced what he was going to say in front of the mirror for hours so that he could make a great first impression. This time was no different. This friend of hers could make or break my happiness and I really would hate for her to break it. Nicole and I have been doing so well.

"Hey," Nicole smiled brightly as she spotted me walking up to her in front of a discreet cafe on Arimango Avenue. She tucked both her hands into mine and stood on her toes to place a kiss against my cheek. I blushed lightly and smiled back at her.

"Hey," I repeated, looking her in the eyes for a long while before we both laughed and pulled apart. She still intertwined our fingers as we strolled over to the tables.

"Don't worry, she's not here yet." I chuckled lightly.

"Am I that transparent?" She nudged me and squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"Don't be so nervous, Justin," she told me gently, "She's really cool and laid back. She'll love you, I'm sure." Yeah, that's what they all say. That's what I hated about meeting new people. The person that you know always tells you they'll love you when the fact of the matter is that they'll smile in your face and talk shit about you once they get home. I can already give you a list of things she could criticize me for.

"Okay." Even though I wasn't okay, Nicole took for what it was and didn't speak until we settled at our table. We sat there and chit chatted mindlessly as we both ordered drinks, waiting for her friend to arrive before we ordered our food. I checked my watch a million and one times before Nicole placed her hands on my wrist and laughed.

"Stop, okay? She's late. She's always late. I guess I should've told you that."

"Ten minutes isn't too bad."

"No, it's not, but- there she is!" I made a face and watched as she stood from her seat, waving at someone over my shoulder. Someone who was her friend. The make or break friend. I checked my breath, straightened my shirt and rubbed my hands through my hair. Everything seemed to be in working order. My legs weren't wobbily when I stood. My smile was in full swing before I even turned around. It was all going so well . . . until I saw her friend.

My enemy.

My lover.

My Teresa.

And my very own heart attack.

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

I hadn't intentionally shown up late. The fact of the matter was that I was trying to look good for this guy Nicole has been raving about from the moment they started dating. My car wouldn't start for a few minutes and then there was a bit of traffic and the trouble with parking, but I had arrived; safe and sound.

At least I thought I was safe and there wasn't a sound. At least not in my head. All the noise of the streets and the sound of Nicky's cheerful voice had fallen on my deaf, numb ears because. . . there he was. Standing. Staring. Looking as horrified as I felt.

And cute.

"I'm glad you made it." I blinked, breaking the uncomfortable contest of eyes between Justin and I; forcing my attention onto Nicky who was completely unaware of the chaos going on in front of her.

"Sorry," I apologized, slapping on a smile. "Shit happens, ya know?" Those words have never had such meaning before.

"Yeah, I know." She tucked her arm in mine and guided me over to the table where Justin still stood, staring. "Rese, this is Justin. Justin, this is Teresa." A look passed over his face like he was going to say something undoubtly stupid, so I cut in before he had the chance.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you." I extended my hand and smiled up at him, silently signalling him to go along with my act. He slowly, but surely caught on, shaking my hand lightly before dropping it.

"Nice to meet you too." I bet. . . I thought, somehow finding the humor in it all.

"So, let's order," Nicky, thankfully, cut in before silence settled, "I'm starving." I had been starving too until the sight of Justin made me nauseous. It wasn't him, per se, it was the awkward irony of the situation.

Of all the Justin's in the world. Of all the Nicky's in the world. . . Why mine?

My mind traveled back to all those random conversations and statements Nicky and I made. All the quick and teasing questions I asked. Can he kiss? and Is he tall, short, or inbetween? All the girly shit that was innocent enough was haunting me now. I was inwardly cringing at the thought of him and Nicky holding hands, let alone something else.

"So. . . Teresa," Justin said suddenly, causing me to meet his eyes again, "How are you? Today, I mean. . . How was your day?" I smirked, happy that I wasn't the only nervous one.

"Fine. Life's been okay. . . Kinda boring, you know, but okay." He blinked. "What about you? Holding up alright?"

"Yep," he answered cheerfully, taking Nicole's hand and kissing it, "I'm doing more than okay." My heart tumbled down to my stomach as they ogled each other. I knew he wanted to tear me up by rubbing his relationship in my face. This was his golden opportunity to make me feel like crap again and he sure as hell was taking it.

"So. . . what do you do for a living?" Both Nicole and Justin looked up at me like I was crazy, but soon settled as Justin cleared his throat.

"I'm a performer," he answered professionally.

"Really?" I asked, "Like a ballet dancer or a stripper?" He choked on his water and I giggled. "I was only kidding."

"Of course," he said, smiling, "So, are you in either of those professions?"

"Justin!" Nicole reprimanded.

"What?" he asked innocently, "I was kidding. We're both intitled to joke around, right?" He was talking to her, but staring at me.

"Right," I agreed. "We're both intitled to a lot of things." And there it was; silence. Good ol' awkward silence. Nicole looked so confused that I felt bad for her. If only she knew.

"Are you ready to make your orders?" We all looked up at our waitress as she held her notepad and pen in hand. My stomach growled instinctively and I rested my hand over my stomach.

"I'll have a roast beef sandwich and a glass of lemonade, please." Justin handed her his menu and Nicole ordered next.

"I'll have a chicken salad and an iced latte."

"Okay. . . and you, ma'am?" It was my turn and I was trying to pick between a turkey club or a mandarin orange salad when Mr. Timberass cleared his throat and sighed. I looked up and he rose a brow of impatience and leaned slightly back in my chair and gave it right back.

"I'll have the turkey club and a glass of water, please." The waitress nodded and walked away, giving me a clear view of Justin's face as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Are you guys all right?" Nicole asked worriedly, "You aren't mad at each other. . . right?"

"Of course not, baby," Justin cooed, wrapping his arm over her shoulder. I took in the delicate touches of his fingers against her bare arm. "Teresa and I are getting along just fine. Right, Teresa?"

"Mmmhmm. . ." I mumbled with a smile thrown in Nicky's direction. She seemed relieved as she settled against him casually as if they've been together for years. They looked comfortable though. Comfortable enough to make me fidget as they fiddled with each other's fingers. I tried to tolerate it for a while, but enough was enough.

"So. . . Justin, tell me about yourself." I slipped my foot from my high-heeled shoe and casually ran it up his leg. Justin kept his gaze on me and his arm around Nicole as he pretended to be unfazed.

"What do you want to know?" I smiled, raising my leg up to his thigh.

"What do you like?" I asked, "What are your favorite things?" I punctuated my question by resting my foot between his legs.

"Well," he began, "I love golf. Music. Singing. . ."

"Uh huh. . ." I pressed my foot against him and he fliched slightly.

"I also love respectable women, like Nicole," he said before crosses his legs, trapping my foot uncomfortably between his thighs. I smiled and tried to play off the pain that was forming in my ankles.

"Really?" Nicole giggled and my mind wondered if she was really laughing at me.

"Yep," he continued, grinning like a fool, "I can't stand those footsy-playing groupie types. The last girl I was with was like that. . . Couldn't stand her." He squeezed his legs tighter and I bit back a groan. This motherfucker was going to break my foot with his boney ass legs.

"Will you two excuse me?" I asked, "I have to run to the ladies' room."

"Okay," Justin said, finally uncrossing his legs and discreetly pushing my foot away with his free hand. I twisted my ankle around to try and get some feeling back into it before slipping on my shoe. I stood and it hurt. Justin smiled in my direction as I limped away from the table and into the restaurant. I found a rest room in the back corner and made a beeline for it. As soon as I checked that nobody was in there, I cursed up a storm, letting out my frustration.

Since when did Justin become so good at making me feel bad? Since when was he able to say no to me?

I looked into the vanity mirrors that lined the walls above the sinks and stared at myself. I didn't look much different than before. My make up was done. My hair was done. My outfit was cute and got damnit, I left the house feeling great 'cause I looked great, but now. . . I don't know.

I sighed to myself as looked down at the sink when the door opened and closed. I can't even get five seconds alone.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I snapped my attention to the mirror and was surprised to see Justin staring at my reflection. I turned around to make sure he was really there, and sure enough he was. His arms were crossed against his chest and he was scowling at me, as if I were a bad child who needed to be punish.

"You do know this is the ladies' room, right?" He rolled his eyes.

"I'm very aware of that," he grumbled, "But are you aware of why you're here?"

"I was gonna pee, but I don't feel comfortable doing that with you standing here."

"Stop joking around," Justin said, "You're here because your friend brought you here to meet her boyfriend who just happens to be me."

"So. . . she's your girlfriend, huh?" I asked, leaning against the sink, "That's cute."

"Look, Teresa, you may not take this seriously, but I do."

"Take what seriously?" I asked.

"My relationship."

"Well, excuse me," I laughed, "I didn't know it was 'serious'."

"Well, it is."

"A couple week-old shindig is serious nowadays?" I asked rhetorically. "You're acting like you love this girl."

"Don't refer to her like she's nothing. She's one of your best friends," Justin told me, "And yes, it is a serious thing. At least it's growing into something serious."

"It's been a few weeks," I stressed, "You barely know her."

"I know more about her than I do about you," he shot back, "And she's given me more in these last three weeks than you have in years."

"Whatever," I mumbled, turning my back to him and digging through my purse for lip gloss, "If you came in here to harass me, you can just leave 'cause I don't have time for it."

"Oh, so now I'm harassing you?" he asked, "You were the one copping a feel a few minutes ago." I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"You can really kiss my ass, Justin," I said, checking my lips for any need of touch-up.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" I reapplied my lip gloss and smacked my lips.

"I don't even know what you're talking about." I turned to stomp out, but he blocked my path, staring down at me with dark blue eyes.

"I'm talking about rejection," he clarified. I looked away.

"Justin-"

"It's not so great on the other end of it, is it?"

"Fuck you." He laughed, hard and bitter.

"I bet you wish you could," he whispered, "But you missed that chance to have me and I'll be damned if you get another one." I was so angry I wanted to cry. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to tell him he was right.

"Don't try to get all cocky now," I said, "I really don't give a damn about you and your supposed relationship, okay? If you want to be with Nicole, be with her. I really don't care."

"Somehow I doubt that," he smirked, "But whatever. Put up your front and give me the run around. You were never good with being honest, so I'm not surprised. . ." Insulted wasn't even the word. "Just. . . please do me one last favor. . . Try not to fuck this up for me. That's all I ask." He strolled out of the rest room and left me standing there in front of the mirror. A felt a hot liquid and wiped it from my face.

A tear.

It didn't seem like it even came from my eyes, but I knew that it did. I just hope Justin hadn't seen it form or fall, for that matter. The last thing I needed was for him to have another thing to hang over my head. I fixed my make up and made my way out to the table again, not even bothering to meet Justin's eyes for the rest of the lunch date.

I knew I couldn't deal. I knew I should've cancelled and just stayed in bed instead.

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

"So. . ." Nicole was grinning wildly and I was trying to ignore her presence completely.

"So what?" I asked as she sat on the floor at my feet like a hungry puppy, begging for food.

"So . . . what do you think?"

"About?" I asked nonchalantly as I flipped through the pages of a Better Homes magazine.

"About Justin!" she giggled, "Come on, it's been a full twenty-four hours and I've gotten nothing out of you willingly."

"Well, I don't have much to say. . ." I mumbled, "He's a . . . nice guy." She made a sour face as if she didn't believe me before pouting.

"You don't like him?" she asked and stated at the same time.

"It's not that I don't like him-"

"Oh my god, Rese! Why don't you like him?!" I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"I do like him, Nick, really. He's sweet and he's very affection. I think he's a great guy and as long as you're happy, I'm happy for you."

"That is such crap," Nicole snapped, "Just say you hate him so that I can break up with him already." I took that into consideration. . . Serious consideration before realizing I was being unfair. I've known Nicole since sixth grade and I've never seen her this damn happy before. Even if Justin hated me, I didn't hate him so I wanted him happy as well. . . Even if it wasn't with me.

"No, Nicky, don't do that," I said, "Don't let him slip away. He's one of those guys that has a line of exes who look back and think 'damn, I really fucked up when I broke things off with him.' You've got a hot, caring, smart, funny, sweet, romantic guy who glows whenever you're around him. Don't throw that away, cherish it, okay?" I breathed in deeply and Nicole stared at me, confused and curious. I stared back until I felt the sudden urge to cry. I looked away, praying that nothing was showing in my eyes.

"Wow," Nicole said softly, "You made it sound really. . . I don't know."

"That doesn't matter. Just do what I say, okay?" I wanted her to leave me alone. I wanted to just find a way to not care as much as I knew I did. I wanted to actually be happy for the both of them instead of hating the idea of them being together.

"Okay," Nicole said, standing and petting my head, "You all right?" I nodded and tossed the magazine next to me.

"I'm as good as I'll ever be," I mumbled. She nodded and said she was going to the store. The moment she left, I made my way over to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and stared at my reflection.

I was as good as I'd ever be.

I sighed.

I really hoped that wasn't true.

Slip Up

I smiled.

She smiled.

We smiled.

It was a nice day. Justin was doing some press and Nicole had finally found some time to spend with me. This was what I needed. Quality girl time that had nothing to do with her perfect boyfriend and my not so perfect drama. We've been giving each other pedi's and medi's and I did her hair before she did mine. Then we ordered out from Pizza Roma a few minutes away and walked to get chinese while we waited for the other food.

Yeah, we were pigging out and loving it. Shane would've scowled at my plate and ask me if I was really going to eat all of that and Justin. . . well, Justin would've eaten with me and complained when I said I was full.

I frowned.

Nicole was smiling, bits of amusement still lingering in her face from our previous conversation about our acne days; a time when, despite our hideous skin, we basked in our 'undercover beauty'. Sexiness that only we could see past our pizza faces and braces.

"Girl, we were ugly," she laughed, "I'm sorry, but it's the truth. It has to be true if I'm playing my damn self by saying it."

"We weren't ugly," I whined, but smirked, "We were a little rough, but it's cool. Look at us now. Sexy as shit."

"Yeah, but we still looked like shit back then," she said, "Shoot, I still look like shit sometimes."

"Please," I disregared with a roll of my eyes, "You are gorgeous." She shrugged and got that disbelieving look. I know it sounded like a cliche thing to say, but it's true. Nicole was five foot nine and had these long as legs that I couldn't even dream about. Her skin was darker than mine; a milk chocolate complexion that complimented her dark large eyes. She was an opposite of me. My skin was a caramel tone and I had light green eyes. I was short and stubby and the only time I came close to her height was when I wore my stilletos. Even then I couldn't beat her.

"Whatever," she said, "Where is that damn pizza? I'm starving." I shrugged this time and took a bite out of my egg roll.

"I'm about to just eat your lo mein and call it a night."

"Touch my shit and I'll smack you," she threatened with a smile, "You are greedy, you know that?" The moment she said that, my mind flashed by to Justin's and mine conversation in the car the day that Shane and I went out to dinner. The dinner that I ditched Justin for. The dinner that led to a chaotic vacation that turned into a terrible nightmare that led me here.

"Yeah, I know. . ." I was greedy. I was greedy for Justin and I was greedy for Shane. I glanced at Nicole and looked down at my hands. It had been three days since that stupid lunch and I haven't had a minute without Justin on my mind. Whenever she came home smiling, I shuddered because I knew it was him who caused it.

I didn't want to share. I didn't want Nicole to have those intimate moments Justin and I had. I didn't want to share his sense of humor or the way he kissed. I didn't want to share his body or the way he holds a body. My body. Her body.

But who the hell was I? You can't share what isn't yours. You can want it. You can long for it. You can dream about it every got damn night, but it's still not yours.

"Do you miss him?" I blinked when Nicole spoke and stammered as I responded.

"Miss. . . what? Who? What?" She laughed and shook her head.

"Shane, dummy. Do you miss Shane?" I shrugged.

"I don't know. . ." I didn't know. I missed Shane when I missed Justin, but I always missed Justin first and then Shane, only because Shane was my only alternative.

"I hope you don't," she said, "He's an ass." And I'm a bitch.

Perfect couple.

"But I wasn't right either-"

"Oh, whatever," Nicole interrupted, "You did nothing but stand by that man, even when he was doing you wrong."

"Yeah. . ." I mumbled, more guilty than before.

So. . . I guess you've already guessed that Nicole doesn't know my dirt either. Don't judge me just yet. She is my friend and I tell her just about everything. Just about. I told her Shane was cheating and I told her we were having problems and she knows I can't seem to just walk away, but she doesn't know I've cheated on him. And I can't tell her.

Ever.

See, Nicole is the only human being on the face of this earth who hasn't screwed me over. She means a lot to me. Even though I'm a complete fuck up, she admires me. Probably because she thinks I'm Mother Teresa. If she knew I was doing dirt like Shane, she'd kick me out on my ass and never speak to me again. The one thing Nicole truly hates is a cheater. When I said she knew how to pick a man, it was because of that. It was because every man she's ever encountered has cheated. Even her father cheated on her mother with three other women, at the same time.

I don't want to tarnish the clean image she has of me. I don't want her to look at me with the same digust Justin did the night I told him about Shane and I. I didn't want her to hate me.

So I refuse to tell her about Justin and I've decided to suck up the reality in front of me and just live with it.

I had no choice.

"Forget I even mentioned him," Nicole said, confusing my pout as a result of Shane on the brain. "Can we talk about something?" She shyly looked down at her hands and my chest tightened.

That was the Justin look.

"Sure?" I asked more than said and she giggled.

"I know you're sick of hearing me talk about him, but Tee. . . He's so different." Her eyes were just gleaming. "He actually asked if it was alright for him to introduce me as his girlfriend from now on. How cute is that? Dudes usually have me guessing and pushing for a title."

"Well. . . that's great. Really, it is."

"I didn't say yes to it," she said.

"Why?" I smiled despite myself and Nicole shrugged.

"I don't know. . ." she trailed off before sighing so heavily it made me concern.

"Nick, what's wrong?" She shrugged.

"Teresa. . . when I look at him, I can practically picture what our kids would look like. . ." I cleared my throat.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah. . ." she laughed, "I know it sounds real cheesy, but you don't understand what he's doing to me. . . I feel like if he asked me to go to the moon, I would."

"Wow."

"I know. . . I'm sprung as hell and I can't even say I'm dick whipped. We ain't even having sex." She burst into a laughing fit and I smiled solemnly.

"He must be real special than, huh?" I took another bite of my egg roll and chewed slowly. "He must be really different from those other guys."

"I don't know. . . maybe." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What if he isn't? What if he's out to hit it and quit or tell me he loves me and cheat the next day?"

"What if. . . what if. . ." I said softly, "Worry about what is. Justin hasn't done anything to make you suspcious. You've spent just about every minute of your free time with him, so you know him well enough. You've even met his mom. I think that all points to things that say it's okay to be his girl. Shit, it even says you are his girl."

Nicole smiled. "So. . . you think I should say yes?"

I paused. I didn't want to be the one to say it. I didn't want to be the one to lock her down to him and give permission for titles, but she was waiting. Looking at me like she was anticipating the words of Ghandi.

"I think. . ." I paused again. "I think you should say whatever you know will make you happy." I liked that response. It wasn't a yes and it wasn't a no. It was a neutral stance. That way nothing would be on my hands.

"I think I should say yes than," she smiled, "Girl, I'm gonna call him now." She jumped up from the floor, nearly knocking over my Ginger Ale and made a beeline for the stairs. It didn't take long for me to hear her door close. I could hear the bed squeak as she jumped on it and I could feel stomach churn just a little bit more.

Then the door bell rung.

Pizza. Food. A way to keep me preoccupied as the love birds confirm their new 'relationship'.

I rolled my eyes, hating that damn knot in my stomach that happens whenever I feel sad, and stood. I walked toward the door, money in hand, dragging my feet. I unlocked the door and pulled it open, ready to devour every inch of our cheese steak pizza.

But when my eyes landed on my supposed pizza deliverer, thoughts of eating were out of my mind. All I could do was stand and stare like a damn deer in headlights. Then my eyes sent a signal to my brain and told me exactly what to say.

"Shane?"

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

"You've been smiling an awful lot lately," my mom said, smiling her damn self as I strolled into the kitchen and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Well, what can I say?" I cheesed, "I've got a hot date tonight."

"Nicole?" she asked knowingly.

"Always," I smirked, "I asked her to be my girlfriend the other night."

"Really?" She got all excited and I laughed. "Well, I take it she said yes."

"Not at first," I said, "She had to think it over, but she just called to let me know that she's a-okay with us being. . . well, us." I laughed to myself, popping a seedless grape from the fruit salad my mom was eating into my mouth. She swatted me away and grinned.

"I'm so happy for you."

"Me too," I said. I shifted around the kitchen to the fridge and opened it. I grabbed a Gatorade bottle and kicked the door closed, doing a little jig all the while.

"So. . ." I looked up at my mom, not liking her hesitation. That was never a good sign.

"So what?" I asked cautiously. She shrugged and I rolled my eyes. "Mom. . . just ask."

"I was just wondering, ya know. . . What happened to Teresa?" I looked down at my juice, twisting off the cap and taking a sip.

"She's alive," I mumbled.

"Well, I didn't really doubt that, but where is she? Have you seen her lately."

"Why does it matter?" I snapped. "Since when do you care?" My mother looked shocked and offended and I felt extremely bad.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, baby," she said softly, "I was just curious." She poked at her salad and I looked at her through the corner of my eye. Silence was now awkward and I hated it.

"Mom. . ." I whined, "I'm sorry, I just. . . I didn't want to think about how messed up this is."

"What is?" she asked.

"Nicole and I."

"I thought you were fine."

"We are. . ." I said, "It's just that. . . As if God's out to get me or something. . . Teresa. . ." My mom looked confused and I couldn't blame her.

"Justin, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Teresa. . . Teresa and Nicole are friends." She choked on a pineapple piece. I ran over and patted her back firmly and she held my waist with her hand.

"Are you kidding me?"

"I wish," I sighed, "Of all the Teresa's in the world, why her?"

"That is a just a thorn in your side, huh?" my mama asked, "Some rain on your parade. . . A. . .uh. . . what else is there?" I laughed.

"It's okay," I said, "None of those sayings could amount to the pile of shit that this is." My mom nodded in agreement.

"Well, don't let it bring you down."

"I won't," I said, "Teresa is not a problem for me. I like Nicole and that's where my mind is. She's my only focus."

"Good," my mother said, "Keep your eye on the prize."

"Exactly."

She went back to her fruit salad. I went back to lying to myself. Nicole may be on my mind, but Teresa's still in my heart.

I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to say that seeing her the other day made me miss her just a little more. I didn't want anyone to know that going into the bathroom and being an ass to her took a lot of me and left me feeling guilty.

I had made her cry and I had no intentions of doing so.

I bet she didn't think I saw it, but the glaze of her eyes were piercing my heart and when her tear brimmed the edge her eye, I left. I turned my back to fast and retreated that I'm surprised I didn't get whiplash.

What did you expect? Some miracle? Some magic that could just erase all the love I have for her?

If only.

But my liking of Nicole is genuine. She really is a wonderful woman that I'm lucky to have. She's fine. She's smart. She's funny. She loves music more than I do and she can dance. . . but most importantly, she holds my hand. Kisses me. Plays with my hair.

In public.

There was to secrecy. There was no other man. It was a real relationship and that's exactly what I needed.

Teresa couldn't give me that.

"Justin?" My mother's soft voice broke into my thoughts and I turned to her slowly.

"Yes?" She sighed and her brows furrowed in deep thought before she finally stood and walked over to me. She took my hand inbetween her two and squeezed them.

"Be with Nicole for the right reason," she said, "Don't rebound on this one if that's what you're trying to do."

"It's not," I argued, "I really like Nicole."

"Okay, but just make sure that your heart and mind are on the same page," she told me, "There's no need to rush things either. God willing, you'll have plenty of time to figure things out." I nodded, taking her advice for what it was and choosing not to argue.

"Okay, thanks, mama." She kissed my cheek and patted my hands before letting me go.

"I'm gonna head on down to Trace's," she told me, "He's been feeling a little ill lately." I nodded.

"Tell him 'hi' for me," I said, waving her off as she exited the kitchen, leaving me completely alone.

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

"What the hell are you doing here?" I snapped once I got over the initial shock of his presence. He blinked and looked me over. I crossed my arms over my chest, blocking the view my V neck spagetti-strapped night shirt was giving him.

He smirked like it was nothing and tried to step inside. I put my hand up to stop him. "What? I can't come in?"

"Are you on crack?!" I yelled, before pushing him back. "'Cause drugs could be the only reason why you're acting like nothing ever happened."

"We happened. The same ol' shit happened. Why are you being all indignant now?" I narrowed my eyes and scoffed.

"You really are dumber than I thought." I slammed the door in his face and turned to sit back on the sofa when Nicole came running down the steps, all dressed up and in a hurry.

"Sorry, girl, but Justin just said he wanted to eat," she giggled, "I've gotta go."

"Okay," I said nonchalantly, even though pangs of jealousy were shooting through me. I slouched down on the couch and watched as she ran around for her shoes.

"Have you seen-"

"Right by the door," I said, knowing that she only wore her bright red pumps with her bright red belt. She smiled when she spotted them and thanked me. I nodded, no longer wanting her around so I wouldn't think about her leaving to be with Justin.

"Okay, I'm out!"

"Yay!" I mocked. She rolled her eyes and opened the door to run out, but she hesitated before I heard her not so happy voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Minding my business." Oh. Shane. I almost forgot about him. I guess me slamming the door in his face wasn't enough for him to leave this time.

"Well, mind it somewhere else 'cause you are not welcomed here."

"I think Teresa can be the judge of that," Shane retorted. I rolled my eyes, tired and bored with this. . . argument.

"And I think this is my house." She had a point there.

"Nicole, I don't have time for this-"

"And I don't allow pets in my home," she sneered, "So your doggin' behind can go on and get." I smiled and gave her some mental brownie points for that. It was moments like these that I really loved Nicole.

Shane didn't say anything for a while, so I thought he left, but Nicole was still baricading the door.

"Nicole, please. . ." He sighed heavily and Nicole sucked her teeth.

"Give me one good reason why I should give a damn." I sat up, waiting for his lame ass line to come.

"Because I love her." I inwardly groaned and Nicole groaned out loud.

"You've gotta be kidding me," she said, "Love? Love is not enough. Tee is done with you. Fenito. Finished. No more. White flaggin' her surrender."

"I just want to talk to her."

"You just want to fuck her." Amen, sister! I thought before reconsidering. Nicole was going out. I was bored and lonely. . . If he was putting out, why not?

I sprung up from the couch, letting my logical side fall into my subconscious. I didn't want to remind myself that there would be a morning after that would be even more fucked up then my current situation. I didn't care. I went a month without so much as a hug from the opposite sex and I needed some type of affection in my life.

"Nicole," I said, once I crept up behind her figure. She glanced over her shoulder and looked down at me.

"He was just about to leave, Teresa," she mumbled, "You don't have to worry about him." I looked at Shane and he looked at me, smirking seductively. I smiled back, letting him think he was running this shit for just a moment, before I gently removed Nicole's hand from the door.

"It's cool," I said, "Enjoy your date." She looked at me disappointedly and I turned away and focused on Shane. I know I was wrong, but damn it, it was about to feel right.

"Alright," she said reluntantly, "Don't wait up."

"You do the same." She shot Shane a dirty look and walked out of the house and to her car. I waited for her to drive away to look back at Shane.

"Sorry-" I pulled him by the collar and pressed our lips together in a feverish kiss.

I didn't want to hear the lies. I didn't want to think. I just wanted his touch. His feel. His body.

At least for a little while.

================================

"I really can't believe her," Nicole scoffed, "Letting that pig back in that fast. Sexing him all over my sofa. . . Now I have to get a new sofa." I jabbed at my baked flounder and listened to Nicole continue her rant about Teresa. . . and Shane.

I wanted to cut my ears off and save myself some agony, but I'll leave that shit up to VanGough's crazy ass instead.

"Look. . . she's gonna do what you want regardless of what you say or feel," I sighed, knowing it all too way, "Teresa's an adult. She knows right from wrong, so if she wants to put her head up her ass and fuck around with that Shane guy, so be it." I sighed again and felt Nicole staring at me, so I looked up to meet her gaze. She looked slightly confused by my bitter tone, but just shook her head and sighed as well.

"I know I shouldn't even care and I know that she's an adult, but still. . ." She laughed lightly. "I love that dumb hoe and it just pisses me off that she does the same ol' shit, ya know?"

"Oh, yeah. . . I know." She smirked and reached to out to me. I gave her my hand and she thumbed it gently.

"I'm ruining our dinner, aren't I?"

"No, you're not," I assured, "I'm glad you can talk to me."

"Me too," she smiled, "You know. . . I was actually about to say no to the whole girlfriend thing." I frowned.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because. . . I was scared," she said, "I didn't want to put my guard down and get hurt again."

"You aren't the only one," I told her, "Believe me, I wasn't ready to jump in on this either, but. . . I feel good about us."

"So do I. . ." Nicole confessed, "But still. . . I was worried that I was being blinded by infactuation. I've been this road before. I've been so excited just to have someone that I didn't really take the time to examine the flaws of the relationship. I didn't want to make the same mistake with you."

I nodded understandably. "What made you change your mind?"

"Teresa." I paused my eating to look at Nicole.

"Really?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "Why are you so surprised?"

"I'm not. . . I'm just. . ." I cleared my throat. "What'd she say?"

"She basically said that you were a great man and that I had nothing to worry about." I absorbed her words and was flattered for a moment before I realized it was crap. If Teresa thought I was so great, why am I here? Why am I with Nicole instead of her? Why does Nicole know all about Shane, but nothing about me?

"That was nice of her to say," I lied, looking down at my plate, "She seems to have sense when it comes to others, but not herself."

"She has sense," Nicole defended, "She just puts it away when Shane enters the picture."

"Still. . ."

"Everybody has a weakness, Justin," Nicole told me, "Shane just happens to be hers."

"That's stupid."

"That's love."

"Love?" I questioned, putting down my fork, "Going back to somebody who constantly cheats on you is not love, it's desperation and naive tendacies that confuses a person into believing it's love when it's not. When it's just that person being a complete and utter idiot who deserves better than the shit they've been getting." Nicole was a bit taken back my outburst and I immediately overwhelmed with guilt and embarrassment.

"Justin-"

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"I never told you he cheated on her." I furrowed my brows and quickly looked back on our date, only to discover that she had in fact left out that tiny detail. I glanced over at my kitchen sink and then my fridge and island before meeting her gaze again.

"Really?" I asked, freigning innocence.

"Really," she said, "Do you know Shane?" I shrugged before shaking my head.

"Nah," I smirked, nervously, before looking back at my food, "I guess I just assumed he was cheating 'cause that's a typical asshole move." I tried to laugh, but it came out dry as a desert and Nicole didn't seem particularly convinced, but she just shrugged and jabbed at her filet.

"I guess." Silence came over us and for the first time, it was truly awkward. Not that shy, cute silence. Not that comfortable I-just-want-to-be-with-you silence. It was the tense what-just-happened-in-the-last-ten-seconds-silence.

It felt like our first real fight when we silently cleared the table, both of us trying to make small talk to ease things up, but failing miserably. I ended up taking her home by eleven and coming home alone.

I felt so lame.

I felt so dumb.

I felt like I had been here before in this lonely, confused, embarrassed, regretful state of mind.

And I had. And amazingly enough, it was because of Teresa. Stupid, stupid Teresa.

Why am I not surprised? Even when she's not around, she finds a way to screw me over and over and over again.

And again.

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

I was still screaming.

My head was still pounding.

I was still wondering how I could be so stupid.

Shane was all over me and I wasn't complaining. His tongue tangled itself with mine as he hungry devoured my mouth. I felt my earlier intentions of being in control slipping away and falling to my feet, just like the sweat pants he had just torn off of me.

"No," I said as Shane backed me toward the steps. I didn't want to do this in my bed. I didn't want him to think this had any meaning. Shane seemed confused for a moment, but quickly disregarded it when I pulled his shirt over his head and sucked on his neck the moment the cloth hit the ground, piling up with my clothing.

It was going so well.

"Shit!" The fridge was cold against my hot skin when Shane shoved me against it before lifting me up to cling to his waist with my legs. I was overwhelmed when our most intimate parts grinded against each other with nothing but our underwear separating us. Underwear that was soon disregarded as Shane set me down to run and get a condom from his pants pocket that was somewhere in the living room where I had carelessly tossed them.

I felt some weariness wash over me. Uncertainty. I knew that if I was gonna stop this from happening, it would have to be now. . . but Shane came back into the kitchen in nothing but a condom protecting the one thing of his that I'd never get tired of.

I really want to kick myself; hard and fast.

Shane had me laid out of the counter and clinging to him as he moved inside of me. He felt a whole lot better than I remembered and I all my doubt had disappeared. My whole body was numb, but feeling everything he was doing to me. All the kisses. All the thrust. All the heat and bits and scratches.

It all felt so wonderful. This is what I wanted. I wanted to escape and I did. My mind had gone and only my euphoric body was left behind.

I felt myself crumbling beneath him. It really had been too long. I could usually outlast Shane, but it seemed like he was going to beat me and hold out longer. I didn't want him to win, so I pushed my hips upward, arching my back, and thrust against him, rolling my lips to match his rhythm. The change of position seemed to work to my advantage, in more ways than one, and Shane moaned.

But than the bastard decided to hold onto his competitiveness and slide himself completely out of me before ramming back in. That's all it took.

I'm so stupid.

I couldn't remember the last time I came so hard in my life. My mind was all hazy and my body was trembling. I was completely out of my mind.

"Oh, Justin. . ."

Completely.

Damn.

What?" I wasn't even hearing Shane because I hadn't realized my mistake until I opened my eyes and matched the face to the name that didn't quite add up.

"What?" I breathed, freigning confusion as Shane furrowed his brows and pulled away from me. My body felt cold as he marched out of the kitchen. I laid on the counter and took in a deep breath before I jumped off of it, making a mental note to disinfect the entire house before Nicole got home.

"You were thinking about that-" Shane stopped speaking as he pulled up his pants and buckled his belt.

"Shane, I just-"

"Don't," he scoffed.

"Don't get all huffy on me," I argued weakly, "That shouldn't even matter because it was just sex. It's not like we're back together or something." He continued getting dressed. "Are you really gonna leave? You didn't even get off." I laughed lightly for a reason unbeknownst to me as I watched him put on his sneakers.

"You know what," he suddenly began after silently marching toward the door, "You're right. We're not together." He looked at me over his shoulder and for a slipt second, I saw a type of sadness in them that I hadn't seen before.

And then he slammed the door in my face.

"LAME!" I yelled out to the ceiling as I laid in my bed before remembering that Nicole was sleeping across the hall. She had come home early, but I had already cleaned the entire has in the mist of my madness. She hadn't said a word. She just marched upstairs and went to bed.

I wondered if Justin had called out my name.

I wondered if Shane was okay.

I wondered how I could lose so much control over a situation (rather situations) that I thought I had covered.

Then I wondered if there was some undiscovered island that I could discreetly disappear to so I could end all my suffering.

Party Time


It had been a stange couple of weeks since that dinner at my house with Nicole. After my slip-up, she was rather distant; suddenly becoming too busy to just hang out and eat or talk with me. I was worried. I thought she had caught on. I thought that Teresa had said or done something to make her even more suspicious or even flat out told her what had happened and what is happening between us.

But then she showed up at my door two nights ago and apologized. It was work that was taking up her time and she finally found some freedom in the mist of the chaos. Relieved would be an understatement as to what I felt when she showed up. She had slept over the since then, in a guest room down the hall from my master bedroom the first night then in my bed the second.

I had woken up this morning happy and, most importantly, not alone. Nicole didn't seem to mind as I crowded her space and nuzzled into her hair. She just offered me a giggle before going to shower. I just laid in bed, imagining what she looked like naked, when my cell phone rang from its spot on my night stand. I took it off its charger to check the caller name and saw it was Teresa.

My heart twitched in that familiar excitement, but then my stomach knotted up in refusal.

I rejected the call and sighed.

She was not going to ruin my day. Not with whatever nonsense she had to say.

"Justin?" I rolled onto my side, tossing my cell somewhere on my bed to look at Nicole.

"Ye-" The words caught in my throat as she stood in the bathroom doorway, leaning on its frame in nothing but her skin.

"We can save you some hot water and just shower together," she stated nonchalantly. I smirked and chuckled lightly.

"That sounds like a great idea," I agreed, slipping from the covers and planting my feet firmly on the ground. I strolled toward her, trying not to seem too eager, but excited enough not to make her feel some type of way. Women were complicated like that. Way too complicated.

"Well, come on," she smiled, "The water's running." I put some pep in my step, enough to make her laugh, and took her hand once I stood in front of her. She looked at me over her shoulder before slowly leading me to the bath. I watched every muscle on her flex beneath her smooth skin and smiled softly.

Today was going to be a good day.

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

I'm going to die.

". . . he was so gentle with it and at the same time so agressive. . ."

It was going to be painful.

". . . his hands. . . girl, his hands!"

And totureous.

". . . better than sex. . ."

And neverending.

"It was the best shower I've ever hand!" Nicole was squealing, so happy that she didn't even notice my frown. Not that I blame her. Who wouldn't be lost somewhere in no-man's-land after a sensuous shower with Justin Randall Timberlake?

"Sounds like it," I agreed meekly, "I'm happy for you." I picked the skin of my nail off and pouted. Now I had to get them done.

"You don't sound happy," Nicole sighed, "You sound really. . . sad, actually." I shrugged.

"Sorry," I apologized, "I'm not having a really good. . . life right about now." Nicole nodded understandingly.

"I told you that Shane was nothing but trouble. You shouldn't have let him in this house." I wanted to roll my eyes. It wasn't just Shane. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her that so she could just understand that my heart was breaking twice; once for each man.

"I know, it wasn't, but what's done is done."

"Did y'all have sex?" I choked on my ice tea and crossed my legs under me as leaned into the sofa. "I take that as a yes."

"It was so fucked up."

"Damn, now he can't even get it up?"

"No, not that," I sighed, "It was good. . . great, actually, but then. . ." I trailed off as the memory flooded my mind.

Justin. . .

"But then what?" Nicole asked. I looked at her, wearily. I bit my bottom lip, holding in my confession. I could already picture how I would look like, standing outside of her door with the clothes on my back and nowhere to go.

"I. . . he. . ." What? What did I or he do? What the hell was I talking about?

"What?" Nicole asked, sounding rather annoyed.

"He said some other girl's name." I am going to hell.

"HE WHAT?!" Nicole jumped up from the couch like it was on fire and balled up her fists. "He did not! Tell me he didn't!" I almost did, just to calm her down, but then she'd get mad again, thinking I was covering up for him.

"Nick, it doesn't matter," I said, trying to shrug it off, "It was just sex. Shane and I are no more." That was the truth, at least from my perspective.

"That bitch has some nerve," Nicole growled, "He shows up my door actin' like he loves you and then he says some other ho's name? What kinda nonsense. . ."

"I know, I know," I cut in as she trailed off in her anger. "Nicky, really. Girl, it's fine. It's fine." She settled back onto the couch, nodding along.

"I can get Justin on him." I laughed. Justin's scrawny ass was no match.

"Please, that boy needs a porkchop or two before stepping up to Shane. . ." She pouted.

"He's a little small, but he can handle his own," she argued. I snickered. "He can pick me up."

My laugh got caught in my throat as I wondered how she would know.

"Wha-" Her laughter cut me off.

"Girl, I'm telling you. . . better than sex. . ." My stomach churned. I knew what it was like to fuck Justin in the shower, but not be all playful and carefree. Not the way Nicole said it went down between her and Justin.

Her experience was more of a newlywed couple type thing. My experiences were more of a two-dollar hooker type of thing.

"Well, whatever you say. . ." Yeah, whatever because I didn't want to hear it any more. I just wanted to go five seconds without Justin or Shane in the conversation.

"Okay, but before we conclude the Justin discussion. . ." She took a deep breath and looked at her expectantly. "There's something that's been naggin' the hell outta me."

"What?" I asked, almost too interested in anything that could mean the demise of their relationship.

"Well, it's just that when you were here with Shane and I was with him. . . I kept talking about how fucked up it was that you and Shane were doing whatever the hell you guys were doing because you know how much he just irks me. . ."

"Okay. . ."

"Well, Justin kinda took the initiative to say. . . Well, he sort of assumed that Shane was a cheater. . ." I shrugged.

"Okay, maybe you said something that made him say that."

"No, I just said that Shane was trash."

"Well, ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, that's what makes a man an ass," I said, laughing it off, "It's not exactly brain surgery, Nick."

"That's what he said," Nicole mumbled, looking at me weirdly. I bugged my eyes out comically and looked around the room.

"What? What did I say?" She shrugged.

"Nothing, I just thought. . ."

"Thought what?" I asked.

"Nothing, it's stupid," she disregarded. I left it at that because I was nervous as hell. Nicole was a sharp and clever person. She saw past bullshit since she had so much practice with the idiotic men in her life.

She knew a liar when she saw one and I could tell that that weird look of hers was a sign she was sniffing me out.

"Well anyway," I began, looking for an exit from our previous conversation, "Tyra came into the shop today and-" Nicole's cell phone cut me off and I rolled my eyes, knowing that ring tone all too well. Nicole was out of my sight before I could blink and giggling senselessly in the kitchen with her 'boo'.

Yes. My death would be slow and neverending. . .

"Oh my god!" Nicole made a mad dash toward me and I cringed, covering up my face as she jumped on me on the sofa.

"What?" I asked, still hiding behind my hands until she yanked them away from my face and grinned down at me.

"Justin's having a party!" I made a sour face.

"Woo hoo?"

"Aren't you excited?!" she squealed. I shrugged.

"Why should I be?"

"Because you're invited, silly." She climbed off of me and leaned back against the chair.

"I am?"

"Well, duh, stupid," she laughed, "Why would I party without my girl?" She nudged me a little as I sat up, causing me to tip over again.

"When is it?" I asked, excited about the singing and the dancing and the drinking.

"Tomorrow night, at his place."

"What's it for?" I asked again.

"I don't know," Nicole smiled, "I guess it's just a celebrity thing. Maybe he wants to show off his new hot tub or something."

"He has a hot tub?" I gasped. Nicole laughed.

"Oh yes he does." She giggled and I didn't even want to know what that meant.

"Is it casual?" Nicole sucked her teeth.

"Damn, you're acting like you never partied before," she smiled, "Just do what you do when you do it, child!"

"Okay. . ." I smirked.

I didn't even know what it was that I did.

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

I had gathered everybody into my kitchen, after the caterers had stuffed away their food and supplies where it needed to be in the back room. My mother, Trace, Rachel, and stepdad, Paul, were all staring at me expectantly as I cleared my throat, trying to formulate the right words.

"Spit it out, monkey," Rachel, my cousin, said, folding her arms across her chest impatiently.

"I'm not a monkey, stupid," I spat back childishly before my mother raised a brow at me. "Sorry." I never understood why I had to apologize and I'm sure Rachel didn't either, but she just smiled smugly 'cause she had won once again.

"Just say it, baby," my mama cooed, "We have a party to get ready for and people are on their way already."

"That's what I want to talk about," I said, "The people on their way."

"What about them?" Trace asked.

"Well, you know Nicole's coming tonight." They all smiled at the mention of her name and I was happy that she had their approval. "But she's bringing a friend."

"An Ex?" Paul asked.

"A nice boy for Rachel?" Mom asked.

"Auntie!" Rachel exclaimed.

"No, none of that," I said, laughing at Rachel. "But a best friend of hers."

"So?" Rachel asked, "What's the problem?"

"The problem is that she's. . ." How the hell do I say this? "She's. . . Trace's arch-enemy."

"His reflection?" Rachel laughed and everybody fought off their giggles as Trace rolled his eyes.

"Who's my arch-enemy?" he asked.

"Starts with a Te and ends with a Resa." The laughter and snickers died so quickly that I was surprised. They looked at me like I was crazy and then they got angry.

"No 'effin' way!" my mama gasped. I smiled weakly and nodded.

"Way," I said, "'Effin' way."

"I can't believe their best friends. . ." Rachel mumbled.

"That's awkward," Paul added.

"She's seriously coming?" Trace asked "Why would Nicole let her?"

"Because Nicole doesn't know about us." They all went to talk at once, but I cut in. "Look, I know. I should tell her, but not now. I don't even see the point. We didn't even have a relationship anyway."

"That's disgusting," Rachel scoffed, "Justin, come on."

"Look, bagger me later, okay?" I asked softly, "I just really need you guys to be nice and act like you don't even know her. I'm sure she'll just go along with it."

"But-"

"Mom, please," I begged, "Just for tonight." I looked at them all, holding their eyes for a second and pouting.

"Whatever," Rachel said.

"Fine," Paul agreed.

"If that's what you want," my mom sighed.

I looked at Trace, tilting my head to egg him on just a bit. He finally shook his head disapprovingly before rolling his eyes.

"I guess I can pretend not to hate her tonight." I smiled.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," I breathed, "Just stay cool and natural and everything will be fine."

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

This party sucked.

The people were nice. I met Nelly Furtado and Ludacris and I even had the pleasure of being hit on by Timbaland, but I wanted to go home. Now.

From the moment I walked through the door, things were awkward. The house felt so familiar, yet so distant from me now. I used to waltz in here like it was nothing, but now I asked for permission to use the bathroom. I had met Justin's family with Nicole and they all smiled and shook my hand like we never even met before. I couldn't tell if it was an act or if they truly forgot about me.

Trace even went out of his way to get me a drink and offer me a dance. I didn't drink and I didn't dance because I thought I had entered the twilight zone. Everything was out of place; especially me.

"Isn't this fun?" I looked next to me and saw Nicole smiling. I haven't seen her in the two hours since the family meeting ended because she was mingling with Justin and being introduced as his girlfriend to any and every body in the mansion. I didn't like it, but the true friend in me was so happy for Nicole. It was the selfish, envious side that wished she'd trip in those heels or spill a drink on her white dress, but she remained flawless through the night as I could now see.

"It's okay," I finally replied after a long sip of my Bacardi Watermelon drink.

"What do you mean okay?" Nicole giggled, "Girl, this is better than that club we went to two weeks ago." More like two months ago. She must have me confused with Justin, but I decided not to tell her that. I just nodded in agreement.

"You're right," I said, looking around the room.

"Of course I'm right," Nicole stated, "I'm always right." I went to argue, but I spotted Justin coming in our direction, all smiles with Nicole.

"Hey, babe," he greeted, kissing her lips gently; causing me to look away.

"Hey," Nicole managed as I turned back around, only to find them smiling at each other with that damn look in their eyes. That I-missed-you-even-though-I-just-saw-you-three-seconds-ago look.

"Are y'all having fun?" Justin glanced at me and I smiled. He turned away.

"Yeah, we are," Nicole answered for us.

"My feet hurt." My complaint was true, but didn't need to be voiced. Nicole nudged me and smirked and Justin gave me a bored expression.

"That's what the couch is for," he said drily before happily adding, "Nick, I wanted to introduce you a couple of my boys over there."

"Okay," she said, handing me her drink, "I'll be right back." I watched as they made their way to the bar set up in his dining room and I sighed, making my way to the couch. I plopped down, not bothering to excuse myself and causing some glares from a couple as they walked away. I sighed again and nostalgically ran my hand over the cream embroidery of the sofa.

I flashed back to all the times Justin and I slept on this couch. Talked on this couch. Laughed and made love on this couch. I remembered how he would sometimes just lay across my lap and stare up at me like he wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world. I remembered how he used to love me.

"That could've been you." I looked up and around, looking for the owner of the voice before I felt the couch sink in next to me.

Trace.

"What?" He nodded over to Nicole and Justin as they laughed with his boys.

"Nicole. . ." he said, "That could've been you." I rolled my eyes, wishing that he had actually forgotten me.

"Who said I want to be where she is?"

"Besides the fact that you're too transparent for words?" he asked sarcastically, "I don't know."

"Trace," I said, "I don't have time for this."

"First of all, that's Mr. Ayala to you," he corrected, "Secondly, it isn't my fault that you're moping around watching your friend over there get everything you want."

"You don't know what I want to even say that," I argued.

"You want Justin, I know that much." And he was right; not that I would say that out loud. "But I guess it doesn't matter 'cause he really doesn't want you."

"Go to hell."

"I'll see you there, slut." He took a swing of his beer.

"Don't make me crush what itty-bitty balls you have, asshole."

"Sorry, but my balls are off-limits to you," he smiled, "Just like Justin's." He laughed and I got up. I would rather trudge through the dark streets of Los Angeles by myself than sit here and listen to this bitch mock me for the rest of the night.

"Rese!" I cringed at the nickname and Nicole jogged up to me right when I was going to walk out the door.

"What?" I asked.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Home," I answered simply.

"We rode up here together," she stated.

"I'll catch the bus."

"What?" she snapped, "Are you crazy? It's almost two in the morning."

"Look," I breathed, "You want to stay, I want to go."

"Fine, at least take the car," she said, digging through her bag, "I'm sure Justin won't mind if I spend the night again." I reached her her arm, haulting her search.

"No, I'll just stay," I said.

"But I thought you wanted to go?"

"I don't know what I want." I felt my eyes involuntarily well up with tears and I tried to push them back.

"Teresa?" Nicole called, "Tee, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lied, "My feet just really hurt."

"She can soak 'em." We both looked to find Justin had come up from nowhere. I quickly wiped my eyes, but I'm sure he already saw them.

"Really?" Nicole asked.

"Oh, yeah," Justin smiled, "Come on, I'll show you to the bathroom." Nicole pushed me along and I followed Justin through the crowd and upstairs. He lead me to his room and shut the door behind us. I took in the room and smiled softly at the comforting familiarity.

"What's really wrong with you?" I sighed and turned to face Justin.

"Like you care," I said, taking a seat on the edge of his bed and unstrapping my shoes. There was a bit of silence until I had sucessfully taken them both off and tossed them aside.

"Do they really hurt?" I looked up at him as he looked at my feet.

"Yeah, but not that much."

"Then why were you crying?"

"Why do you care?" I shot back.

"I don't," he said, taking a seat in the corner of the room on his big, comfy chair, "Nicole's worried though."

"Nicole's always worried about me."

"Hmph. . ." he grunted.

"Hmph. . ." I mocked. He looked up at me, squinting and holding his chin in his hand.

"Answer the question." It took me a moment to remember what he was asking before I rolled my eyes.

"Leave me alone," I groaned, "I just want to go home, okay?"

"So you cried to get your way?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"You couldn't just let me have this, could you?" he asked suddenly, sitting up and leaning forward.

"Have what?"

"All I want to do is be happy, Teresa," he expressed suddenly, seemingly unaware of my previous question, "Just happy. And Nicole makes me that way. This isn't about you and me. This isn't some type of revenge or anything. I didn't purposely choose Nicole to screw you over. In fact, if I had known she was related to you in any way, I would've ran in the other direction."

"Who said you did any of that? Who said I didn't want you happy?"

"You did!" he yelled, "Every time you're around Nicole and I, you're complaining or pouting or bored or something that just ruins it-"

"Well, what do you want me to do?!" I yelled back, "What do you want me to say? Huh? That I'm happy that you're with someone else? That I'm happy that I get to witness my best friend kiss and hug and be with someone I was with just months ago? Is that what you want?"

"I was never with you," Justin said coldly, "And that was your choice."

"Yeah, you're right," I said sarcastically, "This is all my fault."

"Oh, so it's not?" he asked, "This is my fault? Is that what you're saying?"

"All I'm saying is that what we had wasn't one sided."

"Yeah, you're right," Justin said, "It was three sided and that's exactly what the problem was."

"I didn't hold a gun to your head and make you stay with me."

"No, you just took advantage of the fact that I loved you. You used my emotions to work to your advantage, regardless of how screwed over I was in the end!"

"I didn't ask you to love me!" I cried, not knowing how to defend myself any other way.

"Oh, that makes sense," he mocked, "You didn't ask me to love you, so that gets you off the hook, right?"

"I don't want to discuss this any more." I grabbed my shoes and hurriedly strapped them back up.

"That's right, just run away, as always." I ignored him and stood.

"For your imformation, Justin, I do want you happy," I told him, "I just wish that it wasn't with my best friend."

"No, you just wish I was miserable and catering to your every need. You just wish we were fuck buddies again and that you could have two men in your life that you could just mess with whenever you felt like it. You just wish you weren't as screwed up as you are and you most certainly wish you didn't have to be completely alone now."

Everything he said had hit me hard. Trace was right. Justin was right. I was transparent. I was a slut. I could've had all that Nicole had. I was alone.

"Fuck you."

I ran out of the room so fast that I couldn't even see where I was going. I was stumbling along the way, but I got to Nicole and took the keys from her hands. I found the car and just drove away without a second thought.

I hated him.

I hated him so much that I didn't hate him at all.

Not even a little.

Not even close.

I loved him.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

I loved him.

There's so many that when I blink them away, I practically drown.

I loved him and he hated me.

I drown some more.

Again


I really feel some type of awful.

I had caused Teresa to run out of the house liquiored up and upset without a second thought. I had even been proud of myself for making her cry. I wanted her to hurt. I wanted her to know what it felt like to be me when I was with her. The lonliness. The rejection. The regret.

But now I'm feeling all of that. I feel alone. I feel rejected. And I'm certainly feeling regret. It was my fault Nicole was crying. It was my fault that her car was totalled and that Teresa might very well be. It's my fault that we're in this hospital and despite my best efforts, I can't seem to calm her down.

It was the worst feeling in the world having to hear her phone ring at four in the morning and then watching her gasp and grab her heart as if it just had been ripped out.

It may as well have been.

Her best friend had almost been killed.

Her best friend could still die.

And it was my own fault.

"Miss. Peterson." Nicole jolted up from the chair she had slept on all morning and out of my grasp as Dr. Szeto emerged from the white hall and into the waiting area. He wore his rectangular glasses confidently and he screamed nerd, but a nerd was exactly what I was hoping for. We needed someone with brains. Teresa had to be okay. . . For Nicole's sake, of course.

"Is Teresa okay?" Nicole asked without hesitation. That's all she cared about. She said she didn't have time for medical mumbo-jumbo. All she wanted was the facts.

"Miss. Wattson is doing quite well. The stitches were completed an hour ago and she's finally awake. I actually came out to get you. She's been asking for you since she woke up." Nicole nodded and looked back at me, a small smile adorning her tired face.

"She's okay," she informed me, as if I wasn't standing right there for the previous conversation. I just nodded and smiled back, glad that good news was given.

"She'll be well enough to go home in a couple of days. We have to keep here to get some tests done, but that'll probably be over within a week." We both nodded.

"So I can see her now?" Nicole asked.

"Yes, yes!" he encouraged, "Right this way." He lead us up a stretch of hallway and I received some glances and waves from passerbyers. I did the polite smile and nod, but felt as if I was cheaping the situation. I was not here for publicity, but I couldn't give a reason why I was here either. I'll just let them take it for whatever they care to take it for.

When we got in front of Teresa's room, Dr. Szeto excused himself as Nicole made a beeline for the bed. I stopped in the doorframe and stared at what was in front of me.

Teresa all bandaged up and IVed in both of her arms. There seemed to be a neverending stretch of cords and gadgets smothering her body as she laid in her sterilized, white bed. A rectangular bandaid was right above her left eye and there was a big, white bandage under the right side of her jaw. Her hospital gown was white and blue checkered and her hair was sprawled out across the pillow underneath her head. The bed she was on was propped up and by a large window that showed the busy L.A. streets below us.

"Oh, Resey. . ." Nicole cooed as she gently rested her hand on Teresa's cheek. I could see her close her eyes at the comforting touch and I flashed back to the times when she would do that with me.

"I'm sorry, Nicky," she moaned before touching her bandaged jaw. "Your car-"

"Fuck the car," Nicole disregared bluntly, "You can crash as many of my cars as you want as long as you walk away from it in one piece, okay?" They both smiled at each other.

"I shouldn't have driven that car," Teresa said, "I just was so fucked up. . ." She trailed off as she looked up and took notice of me. Nicole followed her gaze and gestured for me to come further into the room.

"He drove me here and insisted on spending the night," Nicole explained, "I think he was more worried than I was." She laughed, but we didn't. It was just too weird to laugh at.

"I'm sorry," Teresa said to Nicole while staring at me, "I was drinking and I should've been more responsible."

"It was my fault," Nicole argued, "I was the one who gave you the keys. I saw you drinking and I still-" Her voice cracked and both Teresa and I turned our eyes to her.

"Nick, it's not your fault," Teresa assured with tears in her own eyes. "I was being stupid."

"I don't care, just don't do this again, please," Nicole said, "If I had lost my best friend in some shit like this, even Oprah couldn't help me." It took a minute, but they both burst out into a fit of giggles.

"What would I do without you?" Teresa asked sarcastically.

"Girl, you know I ask myself the same thing," Nicole said, freigning seriousness. They laughed again Teresa glanced shyly at me.

"Thank you for coming," she said, locking eyes with mine, "I really do appreciate it." I was quiet for a moment, analyzing everything she just said. Every word. Every tone.

"No problem," I said, faking a smile I'm sure she saw right past. Nicole than yawned, long and loud, causing the bags beneath her eyes to seem to drag longer. "Nick, why don't you go and get some coffee, baby." She looked at me appreciatively, but declined.

"No, I wanna stay with Rese," she said, "I'm fine."

"You slept for twenty minutes today," I said, "Get some caffeine in you and eat something. A muffin at least." I was dug through my pocket for cash and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. "I'm sure there's a caf somewhere."

"But-"

"Go 'head," Teresa interrupted, "You look like hell, but Mr. Timberlake over there's too scared to just say it." Nicole laughed and playfully slapped her arm.

"Shut up," she smiled, "Do you think I look like crap?" The question was a trick and directed at me, so I did what I was trained to do.

Changed the subject.

"If they have hot cocoa, could you bring me a cup?" Nicole stood and playfully shoved me out of her way as she sashayed out of the room. I watched until she turned down the hall before facing back in Teresa's direction.

"Nice switch there," she smiled, "Not too obvious." I smiled softly and stuck my hands deep into my pockets. Silence engulfed us and the steady beep of one of her monitors as well as the chattering of nurses and doctors took over the room.

"You okay?" I asked curiously. She shrugged.

"I'll heal." I cleared my throat and she made a soar face. "That's annoying."

"What?" I asked.

"I hate it when you clear your throat."

"I had to," I said simply.

"You do it too much," she commented, "I swear, every five seconds you're clearing your throat."

"That's not true," I argued. . . and then cleared my throat. She looked at me and giggled and I smiled.

"Thanks for staying with Nicky," Teresa sighed, "I've been around that girl every time she freaks out, so I know it wasn't fun for you." I shrugged.

"She was fine," I said, "I handled it well."

"I'm sure," Teresa said before licking her lips. I looked at her for a moment before turning away.

"Where's Shane?" I tried to sound disinterested, but it came out more condescending. When I looked at Teresa, I could see her looking down at her hands and immediately felt bad.

"I don't know," she answered, "Somewhere. .. not caring."

"Does he know you're here?" I asked.

"No. . .I guess not," she said, "Doc told me I kept mumbling Nicole's name while I was getting dragged in here, so he called Nicole to let her know I was in the hospital. I guess I didn't mention Shane's name."

"What about now?"

"Why do you care so much?" she snapped. I stepped back and shrugged again.

"I just thought you'd want your boyfriend to know. . ."

"He's not my boyfriend," she mumbled, causing my eyebrows to peak in interest, "We broke up."

"Really?" I asked, "Since when?"

"Since. . ." She paused. "Doesn't matter. We're over and he has no business being here."

"Then I guess I should go too," I said sarcastically.

"You're here for Nicole, not for me." I scoffed, but didn't say anything. If she wanted to think that, than she could go ahead and think it. We stayed in silence for a while as I rocked back and forth on my heels. It didn't feel really awkward, it just felt like we ran out of words to say. . . or so I thought.

"I don't want to tell her," Teresa said quietly. I looked up at her, confused, and she shook her head sadly. "Nicole. I don't want her to know about us."

"Why not?" I asked, even though I knew enough to know why. It was Teresa's turn to give me a confused look.

"Besides the fact that it would devastate her, geez, I don't know. .. "

"Is it that rule about not dating someone your friend dated?" I asked, "Because if that's the case, technically, we never dated."

"We were. . .involved," Teresa said.

"Involved?" I asked, "That's a really nice way to put it. . ."

"Whatever," she sighed, "It was more than enough. . .Besides. . ."

"Besides what?"

"She doesn't really. . .know about. . . you."

"Well, duh. . ." I mumbled.

"No, she doesn't know that you exist. . ." Teresa sighed when I stared at her blankly. "Damn it, Justin. She doesn't know I. . . she doesn't know I had a side. .. thing."

"Oh. . ." I smirked, "She doesn't know you're a cheater. I see. . ."

"Look, if she did, friendship over. Life over. Everything over."

"Melodramatic much?" I commented.

"No, you don't get it. . ." She covered her eyes with her hands and groaned.

"What's there to get?" I asked, "She's your best friend."

"So?" I asked, "She hates cheaters."

"Who loves them?"

"Look, Nicole really, really hates them." I shrugged. "Despises them! Wants all cheaters to burn."

"Right on!" I laughed.

"This isn't funny."

"You're right. . ." I sighed. "It's hilarious."

"Justin!" she whined before I put my hand out to silence her.

"Relax, okay?" I told her, "I'm not trying to ruin the good thing I have going with her either. I'm not telling her."

"Good."

"Good," I agreed.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled suddenly. I rose a brow at her random apology.

"For what?"

"Everything," she told me vaguely.

"Okay. . ."

"No, it's not," she sighed, "I know sorry doesn't cut it, but it's all I've got to offer right now."

"Don't worry about it. . ." I told her softly, "Just. . . forget it."

"I can't," she breathed, "I really fucked us up." Her voice cracked and I looked at her. For the first time in years, Teresa allowed me to see her cry. It was so weird to me. I didn't even know what to do.

"Teresa-"

"I almost died," she interrupted, "And all I kept thinking about was how selfish I've been. How indecisive and inconsiderate I've been. . . I have a one-way, first class ticket to hell." I wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but I bit my bottom lip instead to keep the lie from falling out of my mouth.

"You're human. . ." I argued weakly. "I've been selfish before."

"Yeah, okay. . ." she disregarded, "God, look at you. . . You're still too nice to tell me I'm a mess."

"I think I said more than enough last night." I mumbled my words regretfully and looked out beyond her bed, staring at the LA skyline.

"I deserved it."

"You're in the hospital because of it," I said. She shook her head.

"I'm in the hospital because I drank too much and drove."

"You weren't drunk," I stated, "You were upset, Teresa. . . I made you cry." I glanced back at her and she was shamefully staring at her now folded hands. I hadn't meant to rub it in a bit more, but it was what it was.

"Look, your words. . . stung, I won't lie about that," she said, "But I assure you that it was more of a . . . lack of words that got me here."

"What do you mean?" My eyes were glued to hers and she was glued to mine. For a moment I thought I saw something. Something so close to something else that I nearly gasped in surprised, but than it faded away and she was blank. Her eyes illegible.

"I mean that you were right. . ." she said quietly, "I run away too much and I'm miserable."

"T-"

"Justin, I cried so much I could hardly see," she whispered, "But it hurt too much to do anything else, but cry. I saw that ramp, but I didn't even try to get out of the way. . ."

"Did you. . ." I was too afraid to say, "Did you try to. . ."

"I'm not suicidal," she smirked, "Just too selfish in a tearful moment to even take my life into consideration."

I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded suicidal to me.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"I'm fine. . ."

"Really?" I asked again.

"Really."

"Are you sure 'cause-"

"Justin!" she interrupted, "For the first time in your life - stop caring."

"You're right. .. "

"I am," she agreed.

"I don't know why I care so much."

"Neither do I," she said, "You should hate me right now. I'm talkin' 'bout pullin' out the drinks and celebrating my near-death experience."

"I could never do that," I said, more to myself than her.

"That's one of the things that drew me to you," she told me softly, "Your ability to somehow forgive the unforgiveable."

"But I never forget."

"Nobody ever does," she mumbled before taking a deep breath. "This is the longest conversation we've had without screaming, cursing, and flipping each other off since. . . everything."

"I blame my lack of sleep," I smiled.

"I blame the morphine." She lazily lifted up her IVed hand and we both laughed lightly as a familiar tug crossed my heart.

I had missed her laugh. I didn't realize just how long it's been since we've laughed together. It's amazing how something that was almost daily can turn into something scarce in what seems like a matter of seconds.

"Okay, I got it, I got it!" We turned our attention to the door as Nicky came trotting in with an armful of breakfast goodies. I walked over to her and gathered some things before placing them on a tray besides Teresa's bed. When I turned to help her with the rest, Nicole had already made her way to the other side of the mattress and squeezed herself in next to where Teresa laid.

They were chattering away and sharing a muffin, completely unaware of my existence. I took my cue to leave and walked slowly toward the door. Before stepping out, I turned and looked at the two, who were now clinging to each other and mumbling carefree conversation.

They looked so happy. Together. As the best friends they were meant to be.

Who was I to break that apart?

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

It took me a week, but I was finally home and things were back to normal. Shane was nowhere to be found. Justin and Nicole were somewhere canoodling and I was alone.

Yes, things were right. Even the suffocating feeling of discontent was in full swing.

“Ain’t that ‘bout a bitch?” I mumbled to myself as I stared at my television screen. Maury was on and the paternity results were just revealed.

Let’s just say that daddy is now Uncle Larry.

“Rese?!” I snapped my head in the direction of my bedroom door and furrowed my brows.

“Nick?!” I called back before the sound of running feet headed right for my room. I stood, ready to open the entrance for Nicole when it swung open instead.

I watched in confusion as tears streamed down her chocolate cheeks before she ran into my unprepared arms. She wept on my shoulder and I patted her back for a moment until she calmed down a bit.

“Nicole, what in the world is wrong with you?” I asked, pushing her back and holding her face in my hands. I searched her eyes for an answer, but she wouldn’t hold my gaze.

“I did it again,” she whimpered.

“Did what?” I was so confused. “Nicky, what are you talking about?”

“Justin. . .” she sighed, “He was just like the rest of those stupid fuckers.” She sniffled and I furrowed my brows.

“He cheated?” Now I was really confused.

“I think so,” she said softly, “I should’ve known.”

“Wait. . . You caught him with somebody?” At this point, I was asking the question for myself and for her.

“No,” she cried, “He told me there was somebody else that he wasn’t over and that he didn't 'feel' like he could be in a relationship with me." A stunned expression crossed my features and Nicole laughed bitterly. "I guess that girl must've gave it up easily. . ."

"What? Why?" I asked quickly and somewhat offended. She looked at me strangely.

"I don't know. . ." she mumbled, "That's the only reason that I could come up with for why he broke things off with me. Maybe he's not used to waiting to have sex or something."

"That can't be it," I said, a little too knowingly.

"Well, what else could it be?" she snapped, "Am I not good enough or something?"

"Nicky, no, that's not what it is. . ." I explained, "Justin just doesn't. . . seem like the type to be caught up in the whole 'I gotta get laid' thing. There must be some other logical reason."

"Yeah, I'm not some stick thin blonde-haired, blue-eyed heffa," she groaned, "I bit you a million that if I was, we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"That's definitely not it," I argued before bitting my bottom lip.

"Are you trying to defend him or am I just crazy?"

"I'm not defending anyone," I sighed, "I'm just saying. . . maybe you should talk to him."

"And say what?" she sneered, "Take me back, oh great Timberlake!"

"I didn't say all that."

"It doesn't matter anyway 'cause I'm not talking to him . . . or any other male on the face of this cheater-infested, heartbreaking, dream-crushing earth." I furrowed my brows and watched as she flopped onto my bed, turning onto her side in the fetal position.

"Nick. . ."

"No, no. . ." she interrupted, "I'll just lay here until I feel better. . . If I ever feel better." My heart felt heavy as guilt piled up in my chest because I knew with every fiber of my being that I was that somebody. That he was doing this somehow to save my ass for whatever reason.

I knelt down and removed her heels from her feet before covering her up with my blanket. I clicked off the television and backed out of the room, quietly locking the door. She'd be asleep in two seconds and I'll make a beeline for Justin's house as soon as she is.

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

It was late afternoon and I was finished my three hour jog. I needed it to clear my head and get away from everyone.

And I mean everyone.

You did what?

That was dumb, even for you. . .

You're never gonna find someone like her again.

Are you gay?

Yes, I've heard it all today and that was just from concerned family members. I know I made a mistake that I regret now in the back of my mind, but it was a good mistake. A mistake I would make again to avoid a bigger mistake in the future. I just wish everybody else could see it that way.

"Good job, Bell," I cooed, crouching down to my doggie's level and petting her small head. "You kept up with daddy all that time!" She barked in response and wagged her tail happily.

I swear this dog was not your average mutt. She was too smart for her own good.

"I think that deserves a biscuit." I stopped mid-pet and slowly stood. I couldn't believe my ears, but more so, I couldn't believe my heart's pace when I sensed her behind me.

"What are you doing here?" I put my attention back on Bella, unclasping her leash and allowing her freedom to run about my driveway. She ran in circles then ran behind me. From the sounds of her giggles, she went right to Teresa.

Traitor.

"You missed your mama, huh?" she cooed before making kissing noises. "Yes, you did and mama missed you too." I slowly turned and watched over my shoulder as Teresa knelt down and took Bella's front paws in her hand, making her stand on her hind legs. She then proceeded to make her dance as she smiled to herself.

It was cute, but too close for comfort.

"Bell," I called, "Bella, come on." I clapped my hands and she made her way over to me. Teresa's smile faded as she stood and I shooed Bella into the house.

"Nicky told me what happened," Teresa said, stopping me in my tracks as I tried to enter my foyer.

"Figured she would," I mumbled, turning around completely to look her in the eyes, "It was just a story to get her to hate me."

"Mission accomplished."

"Good," I said, "I guess you'll be going now, huh?"

"Justin," Teresa sighed, "I hope this wasn't about me."

"It wasn't."

"Then what was it about?" she asked.

"Nothing that concerns you."

"But that's my best friend," she argued, "What happens to her, happens to me."

"Then go hate me too," I scoffed, "Seriously, it'll make life a whole lot easier on the both of us."

"I can't hate you."

"Try a little harder."

"Believe me. . . I have." She laughed to herself. "I guess you're just too damn irresistable."

"Whatever," I dismissed, "I have a shower to take." I was already turning to leave when she called out to me.

"I'm sorry." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"You always are."

"I know. . . It's sad, isn't it?" I didn't answer. "Anyway, I think that you should've stayed. . . with Nick, I mean. Whatever reason it may have really been for you breaking things off with her, I wish you would just work out."

I made a sour face, confused as hell as I stood on my steps and looked down at her on my unpaved parking lot. "Is that what you really want?"

"I really don't know what I want anymore," she smirked, "Well, I'm sure of one thing that I want."

"What's that?" I asked, even though I was scared of the answer.

"I want Nicole happy." I frowned inwardly, somewhat disappointed that her answer wasn't me.

"Well... so do I," I said, "Which is why I broke up with her."

"I don't get it."

"It's not for you to get," I replied curtly.

"She was happy with you," she said, "You were happy too."

"For a while."

"What do you mean?" she asked, "Was it Nicky?"

"No."

"Was it. . ."

"No."

"I didn't even finish my sentence."

"I knew where it was heading," I said, "And no, it wasn't anything else you can think of so just leave it alone."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"'Cause I need to know."

"There's nothing to know."

"What you said to her. . . When you broke it off."

"I told you I made it up," I said.

"You're lying."

"No," I argued weakly.

"Justin, please," she begged, walking toward me, "Just tell if it was me." I bit my bottom lip and backed up as she stepped up the stairs.

"Stop."

"It was me, right?" she asked innocently. I could see in her eyes that that was truly all she wanted.

"Who else would it be?" I whispered.


The first time we ever got a chance to be alone we knew
That it was wrong to do. . .


"I don't know," she shrugged, "You are an attractive guy. Plenty of girls like you." I looked at her, willing myself not to say what I wanted to say so badly.


I guess that's why I was drawn to you
The 2nd time leads to the 3rd, the 5th, the 7th time. . .


"But I don't love them. . ." I mumbled, "Not like I loved you."


And I'm doing it again
Yes, I'm doing it again. . .


"Past-tense?" she questioned, "That's a shame."

"That's what it is."


Oh, I'm doing it again
I said it would end but here it goes again. . .


"You're a terrible liar," she said quietly, taking another step up so that we were eye - to - chin. Even on the steps, her shortness was undeniable.

"And you're a terrible friend."

"So?" she asked.

"So I guess that makes us perfect for each other."


Oh, you're doing it again
Yes, you're doing it again. . .


My heart raced with the familiar tingle in my gut came along full swing. My mind was screaming no. My heart was saying yes. My body was already crossing dangerous lines.


Oh, you're doing it again
You said it would end but here it goes again, and again, and again. . .


My brain shut down and what happened next seemed to play out like a movie. I was watching myself fall right back into her as I screamed at the screen to not do it. To step away from the danger. But I couldn't stop it. The tape was unrolled and there was nothing I could do about it.


Damn, I love you, but this is crazy
I have to fight you almost daily. . .


Kissing. Touching. Tasting. Teasing.

It seemed so much better with her. We didn't even make it up the stairs. I had her against the wall of my living room. We had blindly torn our clothes off and even more blindly tried to make our way upstairs, but she had grabbed me through my boxers and I had to make a pit stop.

She was breathing so hard, panting like she could hardly stand to breathe and I stole her breath away with tongue-filled kisses. I grabbed her thighs and she jumped up around my waist. My boxers slipped down my hips a little more as she worked her body against mine in a delicious grind. I sucked on the pulse of her neck and stumbled up the stairs.


We break up so fast
And we, we make up so passionately. . .


This was so wrong that even my heart ached. It was anticipating its break already, but my naive hope for something different kept me going. I told myself that if I loved her better. . . If I kissed her longer. . . If I pleased her more. . . she'd be there in the morning.


Why can't we just trust each? . . .


The bed was so cool when we hit the silky sheets. We were so excited. I could see her eyes still holding the surprise they had when I responded the way I haven't in a while. I could feel her lips attacking my now bare chest and I could feel her fingertips as they grazed the spot above my heart.


You can't hate me and be my lover
Passion ends, and pains begins, I come back . . .


"Damn it," I cursed, not only because she marked my neck, but because this was so fucked up.


And we're doing it again
Yes, we're doing it again
Oh, we're doing it again
We said it would end but here it goes again. . .


We couldn't hold back any longer. I pulled down her thong with my hands and she removed my boxers with her feet. She blindly felt around my nightstand before opening the top drawer and pulling out condom. She tore it open with her teeth and looked me in the eyes as she slid it up my shaft and covered me up.


Each time you call me home in a sweet refrain
Saying things will change, you'll take away the pain. . .


She felt like a virgin. Tight and wet. I almost collapsed when the tip dipped in. She was going to kill me. Slowly. Warmly. Beautifully.


You envelope me
You feel good as hell to me. . .


"Oh. . ." she groaned, working her body against my thrust. I was almost done and she was clinging to the sheets like she was going to explode any minute. I was straining to keep pressing on. Straining to hold on to my orgasm and my hope for a change.


I keep doing it again
Oh, I'm doing it again. . .


I felt her convulsions as her back arched. She held onto me and panted as I came a few seconds later. I rested my forearms on either side of her and lined my body up with hers, our nose grazing as we tried to catch our breath. I rolled over and wiped away the thin layer of sweat from my forehead.

I closed my eyes and all I saw was Nicole. All I saw was a future fight. All I felt was regret.

"Teresa?" I called tiredly, my eyes already drooping.

"Yes. . ." she breathed.


Oh, I'm doing it again
I said it would end but here it goes again, again . . .


I paused, choosing my words carefully.

"You better be here in the morning."



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

Song Credit(s):

"Again" - John Legend

A Million Little Pieces


It was too early to be awake, but I couldn't find it in myself to close my eyes and drift away.


Whoa, it's morning. . .


I looked down on my lap and ran my hands over his face as he snored away, completely at peace in all the chaos. I wish I could just let it go. I wish I could forget the way I did when he was kissing and touching me.


And we slept the night away. . .


I never thought this through. As hard as it may be to believe, sex was not my intention. I just wanted to know. I just had to know. . . that he loved me too.


It happened. . .


Apparently he did. He was willing to put aside his pride and Nicole's feelings to be with me again, just like I was. . . but I should've said no. My best friend cried her eyes out over this man. This man that's lying in my arms like it's nobody's business.


Now we can't turn back the hands of time. . .


When did I become this woman? When did I love someone so much that even Nicole became insignificant for a moment of time?


Yes we've stolen this moment. . .


I'm so fucked up.


We forgot to face one simple fact. . .


I even feel bad about Shane. I'm even missing him a little.


We both belong to someone else. . .


Why can't I make up my mind?


As we slept the night away. . .


I squint as the sun creeps through the thin curtains of his balcony window. It's such an angelic glow that lights up his entire room. Anybody would think this could be the cover to a magazine. Justin Timberlake sound asleep in his gorgeous bedroom. His face kissed by the morning sun as he lays in the arm of the woman he loves.

A mess of a woman, but loved by him nevertheless.

"Mmm. . ." I looked down as Justin shifted in my lap. His eyes were squeezed tight as he fought off opening them as he felt around the bed. His warm palm rested on my thigh before running over it gently. I giggled and he stretched, slowly sitting up.

"Mornin'," I greeted as I rubbed his arms, loving the feel of his muscles beneath my finger tips.

"Hey. . ." he smiled, "You're here. . ."

"I'm here," I confirmed, as my smile slightly flattered. When I had woken up this morning, I was ready to run out of the door. I had even gotten dressed, brushed, and showered, but the thought of facing Nicole so soon after. . . this made me stay.

"Good." He slid over to the other side of the bed and got up. He stetched his arms upward before rotating his shoulders. I watched the muscles of his back flex in all their glory as well as observed the movements of his guardian angel tattoo.

"I didn't cook," I said as he waddled his way to the bathroom.

"Bad!" he called as he walked inside. I giggled lightly and stood, stretching a little before adjusting my sweat pants. Well, Justin's sweat pants. I allowed him time to pee before I walked over to the door and leaned on its frame. I watched as he washed his hands before grabbing his brush and tooth paste. He brushed quickly, glancing over at me ever so often with a small smile. He rinsed and sucked on his teeth as I raised a brow.

"No shower?" I asked. He walked over to me, cupping my face. He looked me in my eyes and then kissed me deeply. The minty freshness of his breath caused me to gasp, the mentol effect tingling my lungs.

"I'mma shower," he said as he pulled away from the kiss, "But I wanted to kiss you first."

"You could've kissed me when you woke up," I smiled, knowing full well the stank face he had now was coming.

"Ew," he scoffed, "This is not a movie. My breath would've killed you." I laughed heartily as he walked over to the tub and smirked along the way. He turned the water on, adjusting the temp until it was just right. He pulled down his boxer briefs and kicked them off.

"Nice," I commented, causing him to roll his eyes playfully.

"Join me?" he asked.

"I already showered."

"So?" He reached out for my hand. "C'mon, babe." I looked at his hands and then at the shower. All I heard was Nicole.

Better than sex. . .

"No, I'm alright," I assured, "I'll cook you something instead." He pouted and I shook my head.

"C'mon. . ."

"No, go 'head and wash your booty, Justin," I said, "I'll make you breakfast." He sighed and finally gave in. I walked out of the bathroom once he entered the shower. It took less than two seconds for me to hear him singing Marvin Gaye at the top of his lungs. I smiled to myself as I descended upon the stairs, making my way around to the kitchen. I threw down on the stove; frying bacon, scrambling eggs, and stirring grits. I also made some pancakes and sausage, just in case, before filling up two glasses of orange juice.

Justin came down right as I finished setting up the table, dressed in grey sweets, whites socks, and a Rollingstones t-shirt.

"Smells good," he said earnestly, looking over the breakfast table before kissing me gently on the lips, "Thank you."

"No problem," I said, gesturing toward his seat. He waited for me to sit before following suit. He had a weird habit of doing that with everybody. He wouldn't sit unless everyone else was settled. I didn't get it and I don't think he does either.

"So. . ." Justin began as he added more sausage to his full plate, "What do you want to do?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, grabbing the syrup before he could, smiling all the while.

"I don't know," he replied, snatching the syrup from my hands before I could get any on my pancakes, "Today. What do you want to do today?" I waved him off when he tried to give the syrup back and reached for the ketchup instead.

"I don't want to work," I said, pouring some of the red sauce over my eggs and bacon, "Can we bum around here?"

"Sure." He made a grab for my bacon and I slapped his hand away.

"Don't play," I warned and he pouted.

"You can stay here," he said, "As long as you want." I looked up at him and he looked right back at me.

"I can't do that," I said, "Nicole. . . she'll know if I'm gone too long."

"Tell her you have a boyfriend." I stopped chewing and held back the question of Since when?

"She'll want to know all about him and even want to meet him, Justin," I reasoned, "I can't do that."

"You can't or you won't?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Both." He sighed.

"Tell her," he said, as if it were nothing, "She'll find out eventually anyway."

"You cannot be serious." He looked at me, not even flinching. "Oh my god, you're serious?"

"When I told you better be here in the morning, I didn't mean just physically be here. . . I meant be here with me and not gone somewhere completely ashamed or embarrassed or whatever you want to call it."

"Justin. . ." The words wouldn't come. I had something to say, but it fell out into a sigh.

"Teresa, I'm tired," he said, "I'm not going to sit back and take your shit again. I left Nicole because I couldn't stand to be with somebody that wasn't you. Last night. . . last night I did the one thing I promised myself I would never do again. . . I opened myself up to you. I've given my heart back to you. . . even though you've really had it all along. Please don't make that all be in vain."

"You don't understand," I told him softly, "Nicole. . . she won't take me back. She doesn't forgive like you do. She for damn sure doesn't forget. . . If I go up to her and say that I'm with you. . . that I was with you before. . . .that I cheated on Shane with you. . . She'd kill me. Literally."

"She won't-"

"She's my best friend, Justin," I interrupted, "I can't lose her 'cause. . . 'Cause I really don't have anyone else."

"You have me."


Try me cause I'd be
The one that makes you happy. . .


"No, I don't," I said, "I do dumb shit and you leave. You might come back again, you might not. . . But Nicole. . . She can forgive me for smacking her mama, but this? No."

"I don't understand."

"There's only so much a person can take and Nicole has taken it all. The one thing she asked of me and I couldn't even do it."

"She asked you not to cheat?"

"Yes, she made me promise to never be like that. Ever."

"But . . . isn't this different?"

"How?"

"You didn't randomly choose partners. . . You chose me."

"Her ex-boyfriend."

"We were way before her and I."


But the part that I don't get is. . .


"That doesn't matter," I said, "In fact, that makes it worse."

"She'll get over it."

"No, she won't," I argued, "She won't 'get over it'. It's not that simple. I've lied to her for as long as I've known you. I lied to her when she got with you. . ."

"If she's your best friend, she'll be angry, but she'll forgive you."

"Would you forgive Trace?" I asked.

"What?"

"If this was Trace in my position. If you heard your best friend say that he was cheater and that he had been with someone that you could've seen yourself falling in love with, would you forgive him?"


Why me?


"It depends."

"On what?"

"If there's love."

"Why does that matter?" I asked. Justin frowned and looked at me like he couldn't believe I just asked that. But he still went onto explain himself.

"It matters because if he loved her, I could understand. If he loved her the way she loved him, I would understand." I felt tears welling up in my eyes when his voice seemed to edge off, as if he was so close to crying. I wondered if Nicole would be a bit more lenient on me if I said that I loved him. If she knew how much he really means to me and how much I mean to him.

"I. . ." I trailed off, suddenly feeling shy. These butterflies in my stomach were going to kill me.

"Teresa," Justin said softly, "Would she understand?" I knew what he was really asking and I bit my bottom lip.

"Justin. . ."

"Tee, please," he pleaded, "Would she understand?"

I looked up from my hands and into his eyes. They were searching mines so desperately, trying to find the answer that I was too scared to say. The last man I loved cheated. The last man I loved left me in shambles. The last man I loved took it for granted, treated me like crap, and still managed to get me to apologize for every mistake he ever made.

The last man I loved I think I still care about even though my heart now longs for someone else.

Make up your mind!

Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. Yes. No. No. Maybe.

How could such small words hold so much meaning?

I couldn't figure it out and I didn't want to. My eyes found my breakfast plate and I licked my lips.

"Justin. . ." My heart raced as I shivered.

"Yes?" He scooted forward in his chair, so engrossed in what I had yet to say.

"I'm sorry. . ." My heart broke.


You deny me. . .


"What?" He frowned so deeply.

"She won't undestand. . ." I shook my head, sadly and shamefully, ". . . because I don't love you."

I watched as his heart shattered into a million little pieces and I felt as my own did the same. He pushed away from the table, grabbing his plate and tossing it into the sink. I jumped when it broke and watched as he moved closer to the sink to pick up its pieces. I just sat there, afraid to move or speak. Justin was still gathering shards of glass.

I fucked up.

"I know I-" He raised his hand to silence me as he leaned over the sink.

"You know your way out."

"Jus-"

"I need you to go, Teresa." I waited. He said nothing.


Now I'm forced to roam this planet
Sadly, lonely like some used briget. . .


"I'm sorry." He didn't say anything, so I got up to leave, but right as I was about to push the kitchen door open, something slammed against the wall beside me and shattered. I screamed when I felt sharp and wet pieces brush my cheek as I turned my face away. I backed up and looked at the wall. It was a plate of my breakfast, ketchup smeared on the wall and splattered all over me as eggs and sausage were spread across the floor.

I turned to Justin and saw he had a glass of orange juice in his hands now, staring at me with fire in his eyes.


You took my heartbeat from me
This is the saddest story. . .


"Why?" he asked softly.

"What?" I was so scared I was shaking, but Justin didn't seem to notice. He just took a long swig of the juice and gripped the glass when he was finished.

"Is it Shane?" I went to say no, but my mouth just opened and shut. Justin laughed. "What the hell do you even see in him?"

"Nothing," I mumbled meekly as he stepped forward. "Justin, you're scaring me. . ."

He threw the cup and it hit the counter next to me. I felt the glass on my arm and yelped.

"Stop!" I yelled, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Wrong with me?!" he countered, grabbing the nearest plate of pancakes and slamming it on the floor. The crashing noise bellowed in my ears. "There is nothing. . ," A cup. ". . . wrong. . ." A spoon. ". . . with me!" Another plate aimed at the wall beside me. All I could do was stand there, too afraid to move because his aim was too good.


What was wrong with my love?


"Justin, please. . ."

"What?" he asked, "You don't like it? Would it be better if Shane did?!"

"No, it wouldn't!" I screamed, "So just stop it!"

"No, you stop!" he yelled back, stalking over to me, finding a way around all the glass. "You stop fucking with me!" He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the ketchup covered wall. I whimpered as he breathed on me. His eyes looked black, like he was possessed. Possession would explain his behavior. I had never seen him so angry before. I was scared that he was capable of killing me in that moment.

"All I wanted was for you to love me like I loved you. That's it. That's all. . ." I pushed against his hold in vain and he pushed me back. "You couldn't even give me that. You couldn't. . ."


You took my heartbeat from me
Was it I loved you poorly?


"I'm sorry,"

"You're sorry?" He laughed without any humor. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Justin - " I tried again, only to be interrupted.

"I would've let you keep fucking him if you had just said you loved me," he said, "That's how desperate I was getting. I would've been willing you let you have whoever you wanted as long as you came home to me every night. Do you know how sad that is?"


Whatever it was, I just wanna get along with you. . .


I wanted to ask him if he knew me at all because that was my life story. Loving the unlovable. Forgiving the unforgivable.

"Yeah, I do. . ." I whispered and his eyes softened for a moment before he let go of my arms.

"Then why do it to me?" Silence fell over us as we both tried to catch our breaths. I was stalling. I didn't have an answer. I didn't know why I would let someone have to go through what Shane put me through.

"I honestly don't know. . ." I looked up at Justin and he stared down at me. I couldn't read him. His face was completely blank.

Until he screamed.

It came out in this animalistic cry that I never heard before and I didn't have time to react. His fist was in full swing and I squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating the blow.


You took my heartbeat from me
This is the saddest story. . .


I felt the air and heard the wallpaper and plaster fall apart right next to me ear. I sighed in relief that it had been the wall instead of me, but my heart still held a panicked pace.

"Fuck!" Justin pulled his hand out of the hole it formed and I saw the blood before he covered it with his other hand. I reached for him with tears welling up in my eyes and he swatted my hand away.

He turned from me and went over to the sink with his head bowed down. I could still hear some of the wall falling apart and I could hear his jagged breathing. He didn't seem angry anymore. His hunched back made him seem like a small child; hurt and alone.

Then he sniffled and the tears rolled down my cheeks 'cause I knew they were rolling down his.


You took my heartbeat from me. . .


What the hell have I done?


Should have just stabbed it for me. . .


I didn't stay to ask. I figured that I caused enough damage and that leaving would be the best thing I could do. Jumping into my car, plaster-ketchup-glass stained as I was, and drove away as fast as I could. Dried tears tightened the skin of cheeks and I fought myself to stay focused on the road. I got back to Nicole's and sat in my car. I couldn't bring myself to go inside. I was still crying and I didn't want to be interrogated. I didn't want to face her so soon after.

I put the gear in reverse and pulled away. I drove around before I ended up in front of Shane's door. I must've been a pitiful sight in my too big clothes covered in breakfast with my hair in a messy bun, but all I saw was concern on his face as Shane took me inside without a word. I'm glad he took the silent route because I seem to be bad with words.

He got me some of my clean clothes and wet a washcloth to clean me flash and arms. I had settled down a bit and started crying again just moments after. Shane tried to wipe away every tear, but they kept on falling. I cried when I washed up. I cried when I changed my clothes. I cried when he held me for a while and let me ruin his dress shirt with my tears. I cried when I told myself not to. Shane just rubbed my back and cooed that it was okay even though it wasn't.

"I'm sorry. . ." I whimpered and he just shook his head and wiped cheeks with his thumbs.

"Don't be."

"I look ridiculous."

"I won't even deny that." I smiled and he chuckled lightly.

"Sorry. . ." I apologized again.

"It's okay. . . I've missed you too." I looked in his sharp green eyes and saw that he believed that this was about him. That these tears were for him.

If he only knew.


----------

Song Credit(s):

"Get Along With You" - Kelis

TLC


“I was an animal, Mom,” I sighed into the phone, “It was like… I could see myself screaming and yelling and having this big fit, but I couldn’t do anything about it. The whole thing was crazy…”

“Oh, baby,” she cooed, “It’s okay… You were hurting and frustrated.”

“What if I had hurt her, Ma?” I whispered as though someone would hear me, “What if I actually hit her?” There was a pause on the other end and I knew she didn’t have an answer. I felt my stomach knot and a sickness suddenly washed over me.

What if I had become that man? What if I had raised my hand to a woman and broken the solid, gentleman ground that I stood on?

“I don’t think you could’ve done that…” my mother told me softly, “It’s not in you.”

“I threw glass cups and plates and even spoons at her… I grabbed her and slammed on the wall…” I closed my eyes tightly, trying to erase the memory. “She was so scared of me… I never saw her look at me like that.”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” my mama said as she breathed in and out deeply, “Look, she has taken advantage of you in the worst way possible. She takes your love for granted and she has broken your heart more times than you can count… I’m not saying what you did was acceptable, but it certainly was understandable and you cannot hold yourself responsible for everything. She pushed you to it.”

“That’s not good enough,” I argued, “I can’t justified what I did.”

“Well… what else are you suppose to do when somebody you love with all your heart tells you they don’t love you?”

“I don’t know…” I said, “Walk away?”

“How many times have you tried to do that?” She had a point. Even before Teresa said she didn’t love me, a part of me knew that she didn’t and I still didn’t walk away. And even when I did gather up some balls, one lick of her lips and swivel of her hips and my guard was down all over again.

“I know, but…” I couldn’t think of what to say, so I just breathed.

“I think that you have your answer now,” she told me, “You know that she doesn’t love you, so you have nothing to stay around for. Move on and forget about her.”

“It’s not easy…” I said, the ‘she doesn’t love you’ line repeating in my head.

“I never said it was, but, Justin, honey, you have to know that it’s easier than this.”

“This?” I asked, looking around my torn apart kitchen as I sat at the ketchup covered table.

“You’re kickin’ a dead horse when you could be ridin’ a stallion.” I smirked at her corky cliché before my face flattered.

“I know…” I told her, “But I really did love that horse.”


”Look, cow, I don’t know where you are, but when I find you, I’m kicking your ass.” I rolled my eyes at the voicemail as it continued. “And don’t roll your eyes ‘cause I’m serious… Rese, call me ‘cause I need to know you’re all right.”

I deleted Nicole’s message and turned on my side slowly so that I wouldn’t cause Shane to come barreling into the room so we could talk.

He had said he wanted to ‘discuss us’ and see if we could ‘fix what’s broken’ because apparently he discovered that I was something worthy of his time and attention while we were separated.

I told him I was tired and would talk to him in the morning. However, I’ve slept through morning and was doing a great job pretending to sleep deep into the afternoon. I would lie there and listen for him and whenever I sensed his presence in the room, I’d grow rigid. He’d call me and I’d sniffle and roll over as if I were completely out of it so that he’d leave.

It was bad enough I had to share a bed with him all night, but to not even have the chance to just lay awake in bed and stare at the ceiling was worse. All I wanted was some privacy so I could cry and not be asked if I was okay.

I didn’t deserve the worry. I didn’t deserve to even find the warmth of these sheets around me because Shane owned me nothing like I owned nothing to him. I had come to that conclusion last night in the mist of my lack of sleep. Shane and I were not good for each other. We were trying to make the other someone they weren’t and I couldn’t spend the rest of my life hurting and being hurt by someone I once loved.

Yes, that was past tense because I’ve come to the other conclusion that I didn’t love the Shane Callahan before me. I loved the man he was and I was clinging desperately to the hope that he was still in there rather than letting go and letting it be.

I’ve also narrowed down my apologies to two deserving people: Justin and Nicole.

The two people who have truly loved me through all the shit I put them through. The two who I know will hear my words and tell me it’s still okay. At least that’s what I hope.

All these deep thoughts ignited by the sounds of clashing plates and ketchup stains on my ex-lovers t-shirt.

It’s crazy what something so terrifying could do to a person.

If only I could express these thoughts without fear and hesitation.

If only.


“Hey, it’s about time,” Shane greeted as I finally dragged my ass out of bed, showered, and dressed. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” I said, standing at the other end of the table in my dark blue jeans, lacy black cami, and flip-flops.

“Sit down and eat something,” Shane offered as he stood. I put up my hand to halt his actions.

“I’m not staying long.” His face fell a little, but he smirked.

“Oh, are you heading to Nicky’s to pack your stuff?”

“No,” I said, “I’m not leaving Nicky’s.”

“Then… when are you coming home?” I shook my head and sadly sighed. Home. He said it like it actually existed.

“Shane… We need to talk.” I watched as he grew rigid when a bored expression crossed his features.

“It’s that Justin guy, isn’t it?” he asked, rhetorically, “You’re living with him.”

I almost laughed. “No, I’m really not,” I assured, “And this isn’t about anyone, but you and me.”

“Let me guess,” Shane said, “You need more time apart?”

“No.”

“You want to be with me but not move back in yet?”

“No.”

“You’re pregnant?” I laughed and shook my head.

“Hell no.”

“Then what?”

“Shane…” I sighed, “We can’t do this to each other.”

“Do what?”

“What we’ve been doing for years now…” I said, “All this back and forth stuff… All the cheating.”

“I’m not with that anymore,” Shane argued. “Seriously, after we separated, I did some thinking and I want to be with you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do!” he exclaimed, “I know what I want now.”

“Yeah, now,” I said, “In this moment, you can swear up and down that you only want me, but, Shane, I know you. This won’t last.”

“I love you, Teresa,” he told me genuinely, “I do and I want to prove it to you.”

“You love who I was and what we were, and so do I, but Shane… The reality is that those two kids in that photograph are memories. Decent, beautiful, unforgettable memories, but memories nonetheless.”

I watched he glanced over at the photo of us sitting on the coffee table in the other room. We were at the grand opening of my beauty salon. There were guest in the background, blurred away, and he and I in the center with balloons in my hands and a hot dog in his. It was a simple moment, but the simplicity is what made it so beautiful.

He shook his head, as if not believing me. “We can go back to that.”

“We can’t.”

“Not with you like this,” he barked, “Not with you fuckin’ around on me still.”

“Don’t you see?”

“See what?”

“This is gonna be us twenty years from now if we don’t end this here,” I said, “The same argument… The same blame game…” I paused and he stared at me as I stared back at him. “Is that what you want?”

“I want to work us,” Shane said earnestly, “I want to try and fix things ‘cause I’ve loved you since the beginning of puberty.” We laughed and our smiles slowly fell as the silence washed over us.

“I will love you forever, Shane,” I said, “I will… I can’t help it ‘cause you’ve been in my life for so long, but, baby, we’re not in love anymore. There’s no way two people can screw each other over this much and still call it love.”

“And this really isn’t about another guy?”

“I’d be lying if I said he had nothing to do with this, but he only gave me the boost I needed to do this.” Shane nodded. Silence came. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I tucked my hands deep in my pockets, ready to turn away and go until he spoke.

“Do you love him?” I blinked and looked away. I didn’t want to say it; not to Shane. Not before I told Justin myself.

“Did you love any of the girls you were with?”

“No,” he answered with a shrug, “I never let them get that close. Made it easier to leave ‘em behind.”

“Humph,” I huffed, “I wish I could’ve been that smart.”

“Or maybe I’m the dumb one,” Shane smirked, “At least you have someone to go to.” I shook my head. If only he knew.

“I don’t have anything right now,” I said, “Not you, not him, and not Nicole.”

“I don’t know about him, but you have me and Nicky.”

“I need to have me for a while… I’m too dependent, I guess.”

“So what are you saying?” I shrugged. What was I saying?

“I don’t know…”

“Well, you can stay here until you figure it out…”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause… You’re looking at me funny.”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“You’re looking at me like you always look at me when I’m trying to put my foot down.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not joking…” I said, “Everything ends here. The emotional and the physical.”

“The physical part is what we do best.”

“Which is why the emotional part got fucked up.”

“My door’s always open, Tee,” Shane smiled, “That’s all I’m saying.”

“Shane… I just think I should go.” He nodded and stepped toward me. He held his arms open and I hesitantly stepped into them, allowing him to embrace me.

His scent, his warmth, and his strength enveloped me and I closed my eyes. I remembered how these arms used to make me feel safe and now they were just nice arms around me. Now I missed Justin and how his arms felt around me. Now I knew exactly where I wanted to be.

I just didn’t know how to get there again.


I dragged my sorry ass to work that night, skipping out on calling Nicole back after her sixth call and did hair like it was nobody’s business even though Tasha stopped me as I walked through the door and said that Nicole had come in looking for me earlier that morning.

My guilt rose, but I just told her we were fighting.

“Well, she sure looked sorry about it,” she had told me with a slight frown, “She looked like shit with poo on the side with all that worry on her face.”

Poo on the side was Tasha’s favorite phase and nobody bothered to question why. I hadn’t either because I walked away and swept the floor of the hair salon. My mind raced with thoughts of Justin for the rest of the night, even as I closed up shop and turned off the lights.

What was he doing? Who was he with? Did he really hate me now? Would he come after me and try and finish me off?

I really wouldn’t hold that against him, but a large part of me doubted that he’d actually do such a thing. In fact, I was sure he hated himself for the way he fought me. I could put a million dollars that he wanted to apologize and somehow get my forgiveness, as if I’d be so bold to allow myself to give it to him.

“Goodnight!” Tasha called over her shoulder as she slipped out the back door. I waved and it slammed shut like it always did, the sound reverberating through the now empty salon. I sighed to myself and walked over to the stairs that led downstairs. All the extra boxes of hair shampoos, cleansers, curlers, irons, and etcetera were down there, but I was in search of something else.

As I pushed aside the current that led to a laundry room for towels and such, I saw my gray, wool blanket folded neatly with a pile of hair towels. I carefully pulled it out and walked back upstairs. I fluffed the pillows on the waiting sofa that was at such an angle that nobody from outside could see it.

I didn’t want to look like that bum I was feeling like because of the utter embarrassment, so I made sure I pushed the sofa back a bit more before laying down. I set my cell phone alarm so I could be awake and washed up before anybody came in the morning. I sighed and closed my eyes before opening them again. I glanced over at the vanity mirrors that were dimly lit and caught sight of my reflection, confirming my suspicions.

I was pathetic. The girl who had everything (a little too much of everything) was now the girl with nothing that slept on her beauty salon’s sofa.



“You are gonna kill yourself.”

“Ninety-eight…”

“Dude, seriously, stop.”

“Ninety-nine…”

“Okay, that’s it.”

“One hun-,” I panted before Trace jumped up from his place on the aerobics ball and pushed me over.

“This is ridiculous!”

“Why’d you do that?!” I barked, “I was almost at a hundred.”

“You did enough already,” he said, “Fifty bench presses, a two hour run, one hundred sit ups, and now another hundred push ups? Are you insane?”

“I’m just working out,” I said quietly because it was a lie and it’s hard to lie to Trace, “I’m feeling out of shape.”

“You’re not on tour, man,” he said, trying to smile through all his concern, “You haven’t even in a week, so you’re not gaining any weight.”

“I’ve eaten!”

“Oh, excuse me, you did have half a bagel on Tuesday and how could I forget that bottle of Propel fitness water this morning during the run…”

“You sound like my mom,” I said to him, still struggling to breath as I lied on my back.

“It’s ‘cause I love your dumb ass,” he mumbled, which could only mean he was really concern. We know there’s love, but we never voice it that often, especially during our everyday conversations. He must think I’m dying.

“I’m okay, Trace,” I told him in a tone that didn’t even convince me, “Seriously… I’ll be fine.”

“I know, but I’m concerned about you not being fine now.”

“I stay fine,” I said with a smile, “I’m sexy, bitch.” Trace laughed lightly, but his small smile flattered.

“I think I’ll stay over tonight.” I made a sour face.

“What are we? Three?” I questioned, “We’re not kids. I’m not having a nightmare and need my buddy around to keep me talking until I fall asleep. I’m okay.”

“Maybe you do need me around,” he said, “When was the last time we had a sleepover thing, anyway?”

“My point exactly,” I said, “You have Elisha Cuthbert at your sexual beck and call and you want to sleep with me?” Trace laughed.

“Yeah… Which should tell you, my friend, that I’m serious.” I breathed out deeply as I regained a normal breathing pattern.

“Ugh,” I groaned as I picked myself up from the ground and placed my hands on my hips, “I guess it would be okay…”

“Dude, you know you want to sleep with me,” he winked at me and I grimaced.

“I think I know why you really want to sleep over…” We both laughed and I slapped his shoulder in my silent thank you because Trace was right. I could really use his company because I really did need to talk to somebody about something. Anything that I could will myself to say, or not say, and be heard.

Trace was good for that since he was guy and knew what I was thinking before I had to open my mouth and say a word. He understood a bit differently than my mother, though she knew me inside out, she was still a woman and needed more words to better understand me whereas Trace needed a groan, a ‘got damn it’, and a beer to get me.

“So…” Trace began as we walked out of my gym and down the hall toward the kitchen, “Who’s bringing the cookies?”

I smirked at him over my shoulder. “I think the answer to that is obvious, Mr. Easy Bake Oven.”

“Hey,” he said, “That was your Aunt Patty who thought your mom meant ‘Tracey’ instead of ‘Trace’ and sent me that god forbidden pink oven.”

“She sent a picture with that card,” I smiled, “She knew I was a boy.”

“Your name is Justin.”

“So?” I teased, “According to you, one letter could’ve been assumed to be missing. Maybe she could’ve assumed my name was Justine or Justina…”

“Justina?” Trace pretended to vomit and I nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, but Justine isn’t so bad…” I said, opening the fridge as we made our way into the kitchen and grabbed a cherry flavored Gatorade. “I might name my kid that.”

“And ruin her for life?” Trace shook his head sadly and I rolled my eyes.

“Justine…” I mumbled before unscrewing the cap of my juice. My mind floated to a beautiful baby girl and I saw her in the arms of Teresa, looking just like her with sweet soft skin and my curly hair. I frowned and took a gulp, wishing I were drinking vodka instead.

“It’ll get better,” Trace said, looking around the kitchen, probably remembering what everything I told him about the fight. “The kitchen’s clean and all it took was some TLC to help it get back to itself.”

I nodded and took his metaphor into consideration before I noticed a small ketchup stain on a leg of the kitchen table. All the beauty of the kitchen had suddenly disappeared because of that one spot, a flaw whose lack of cleanliness overtook everything.

It was almost like cancer.

“Yeah…” I mumbled before taking another sip, “A little TLC…”

Take A Seat


I'm dead.

I must be dead.

Because nothing on earth has ever felt this damn good.

But good is in heaven, so I know I'm not dead because heaven and I have a few issues to work out before I can get to the good.

So... I'm alive, but I could die right now and be eternally happy because even if I don't get into the golden gates, I'm having my slice of heavenly pie right now.

"Oh... my... god..." I moaned slowly, completely amazed as I watched him focus on me, manuvering his tongue throughout my folds. He was so into it, like it was the best thing he's ever tasted and he couldn't get enough of. He sucked my clit into his mouth and for a moment, the image of him in front of me disappeared as I rolled my eyes back and sighed. My hands blindly found his faux mohawked hair and rubbed over it, slightly disappointed that there was nothing to grip as his teeth gently grazed my sensitive flesh. My walls were twitching.

"Come for me, baby," Justin demanded, finally tearing his mouth from me, but replacing it quickly with his fingers. His thumb rotated around my clit as his other fingers worked me inside. Yes, I was gonna come for him. I always did.

"Just... oh...uh..." I don't know what the fuck I was saying, but it didn't matter. My lack of words turned him on and he dipped his head down to assist his fingers with his tongue. A two piece combo that out numbered me completely. I was coming in less than two seconds and Justin licked his lips as he watched me shake and whimper. He rubbed my stomach as I slowly came back down to earth, shivering as the intense heat my orgasm caused left me cold on the sheets.

My eyes were closed, but I felt the bed shifting underneath me and the warm wetness of Justin's mouth trailed up my thighs and stomach and breasts before finally finding my smiling lips. We both sighed as he laid on top of me, his skin touching mine in the nicest way possible. He was so warm and soft that I couldn't help but hug him closer to me. He groaned and rubbed his stubbled face into my neck. I giggled and intertwined our legs together rolling over so that I was on top.

"Mmm..." I mumbled, kissing his neck before resting my face in the crook of it. "This is nice." I inhaled his light, piney scent and curled my toes.

"It is," he agreed, petting my head and rubbing circles into the small of my back. "You should stay." I closed my eyes tighter, trying to pretend that I didn't hear him. It was silent for a while, but I knew Justin well enough to know it wouldn't stay that way. "Did you hear me?" He whispered it like it was some well kept secret he just expelled. I groaned.

"I heard you," I said, "But... what do you want me to say?" I knew what he wanted me to say, but I never understood why he still wanted me to say it when he knew it would never happen.

"I want you to say... something." He shifted underneath me, his hands falling to his sides and leaving me cold and lying on top of his listless body.

I peeled away from his chest and sat up on him. "Something."

"Not funny," he mumbled, his thumb brushing against my knee, "I'm serious."

"I know," I told him, running my hands over his chest, "But... you know..."

"Shane's better?" he offered, "I know."

"That's not what I was gonna say."

"Yeah, well, that's what you always mean." He sat up, making us now eye to eye. "I gotta piss." I grimaced and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Don't be mad."

He gave me a bored look. "I'm not."

"You're a bad liar."

"And you're..." He laughed at himself, a loss for words, "You're just bad."

"I thought you liked it when I was bad," I purred against his lips, pressing myself down on him.

"I really gotta pee," he whined, smiling all the while as I rolled my eyes and got off of him. I sat on the bed and waited for his return, drawing slow, lazy circles on his Egyptian cotton sheets, striped with baby blue and white.

"Ahh..." I heard him breathed from my spot on the bed and I rolled my eyes, laughing to myself as toilet flushed and the water from the sink sounded. He hummed a tune before falling into a whistle version of 'My Cherie Amor' by Stevie Wonder. I listened to him and smiled. He even sounded beautiful when he hummed and whistled, let alone sang.

Just as I falling into his soothing rhythm, it came to a stop and the sound of his feet rubbing against the plush cream carpet of his room caused me to roll onto my back and stare him as he stood at the foot of the bed. I watched his bare chest moved up and down as he breathed and marveled at his smooth, peachy skin before my eyes fell down to his lower half. His white boxers had blue veritical stripes and were almost identical to the sheets on his bed. I almost laughed as I wondered if he had wore them just to match.

"Feel better?" I smirked as my eyes finally found his, which were glancing up my naked form.

"Much," he replied, hopping onto the bed, causing me to giggle as he tackled me and tickled my sides mercilessly. I screamed out and struggled to breathe as I fought against him.

"Stop!" I demanded weakly, falling into a fit of laughter that made my eyes water. He chuckled, but continued.

"Say Uncle!" I squirmed and flipped and kicked and yelled. "Say Uncle!"

"UNCLE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I could hear his dogs barking up the hall as Justin stopped and settled next to me. I fell back against the warm, wrinkled sheets and wiped my face. I was breathing so hard, but still was smiling.

"That was too easy," Justin chided, "And hilarious."

"You're a douche," I laughed.

"Ouch," he frowned, "That deserves a punishment." I turned away as he went for my sides.

"I'm sorry!" I apologized quickly and he haulted his actions.

"That's what I thought." I stuck my tongue out at him and he flicked it with his index finger, leaving the salty taste of his skin in my mouth. I smiled.

"That was fun."

"It was," he agreed, leaning over me on his side and brushing my hair from my face. He stared down at me for a moment, brushing our noses together as we stared looked at each other. "Stay." It wasn't a question. It was a demand. A request for my company. I sighed, lifting my head up to brush my lips against his.

"Okay."

My eyes fluttered open and I groaned as a light burned them. I buried my face into the pillows beneath my head and squeezed my eyes tighter, trying to grasp the memory again, but failing to after the fourth attempt in what felt like seconds. I sighed.

There was a low hum that suddenly reached my ears as I slowly woke up, the hum grew into words and vibrations gently shook me as I sat up on the bed. Then there was a voice so out of tune and dreadful that I knew it had to be Nicole's.

"And I am telling you! I'mmmmmmmmmmmmm not going! You're the best man I'll ever know! There's no way I could eevvvverr go! No, no, no, noooooooo way; no, no, no, noooooooooo way I'm living with you. I'm not living without you, not living with you. I don't wanna be free! I'm staying! I'm staying! And you, and you, and you, and you're gonna love meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ehhhhhhy eh, eh, eh, eh!" My ears were bleeding, but I was laughing lightly as Nicole struggled with the high notes. I could already see her stomping her feet and screaming at the top of her lungs with her eyes shut.

She was so lame and I loved her. I missed her.

I stretched and rubbed my eyes before finally opening them and taking in my surroundings. I was home. At least, that's what I liked to refer to it as. It was technically Nicole's place, but with Shane out of the picture, it was mine as well. It was all I had and I was grateful to be back. Back in a bed that wasn't shared with somebody who didn't really love me. Back in a place where I was really loved.

I pulled myself out of bed and walked down the hall as she continued to yell, rather than sing, and made sure to tap on her closed to door to let her know she had succeeded in ruining my chances of getting sleep in the near future. The singing didn't stop, and I hadn't expected it to, so I continued on my way to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and washing my face. I pulled my hair back into a messy bun and sighed. I had circles the size of moon under my eyes and it was disturbing, to say the least, to have to imagine what Justin would think if he saw me.

Oh... Justin.

Why did I have to think that name? Even as Nicole's singing boomed in my ears, I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the sound and feel of my beating heart at the thought of his name. I stared into the mirror. I loved him. Me. I loved him. As I stared into my own eyes, I felt the need to shy away, but I fought against it. I loved him and I wanted him to know that, but I fucked it up. When I had him, I pushed him away and now that he's gone, I love him? It even sounded Shane-like to me. Even if I showed up at Justin's doorstep and told him how I felt, I knew it wouldn't matter. He had moved on without me and I guess... It was for the better. I had Nicole. She had me. That's what I really needed anyway.

"I can't believe it's your face either." I rolled my eyes as I looked over my shoulder in the mirror and saw Nicole smiling at me.

"You're a funny little hooker, aren't you?" She shrugged and walked over beside me, nudging in my side with her knobby elbows.

"You feelin' better?" I nodded, feeling slightly guilty. Early this morning when I tried to sneak in, after sleeping in the salon for another three weeks and showering at Shane's when I knew he was working, Nicole was in the kitchen cleaning. She heard me open and close the door and came running out with a million questions. I burst into tears and told her I had broken up with Shane for good and as she held me I cried some more because I neglected to tell her I was crying for Justin. The more I thought about Shane, the more I thought about him. I had spent so much of our time together leaving him for Shane and for what? To just break up with him in the end?

It was such a huge loss for another loss and as I tried to wrap my head around my own logic, I couldn't. I couldn't understand why I hadn't had my revelation about Shane and I earlier on. Like right before I walked into that stupid food stop and ran into Justin. Like the first time he kissed me and felt that unmistakable spark of something. Or even when Justin and I had first been intimate together. I should've looked into his eyes and seen that he was falling for me and told him I was falling too.

Woulda, coulda, shoulda.

"Hey, I've gotta go and get a few things from Shane's so... I'm gonna shower and get dressed." Nicole patted my back.

"You don't have to do it so soon, girl," she told me gently, "Why don't we go when I get off from work? You and I can double team the stupid fucker." I laughed and shook my head.

"I'm okay, really..." I assured, "It was just a lot to take in last night, but I'm feeling so much better."

"Overnight?" she narrowed her eyes at me with a disbelieving pursing of the lips. I rolled my eyes.

"Nicole, really..." I said, turning toward her, "Now, please get out so I can wash my ass." She wrinkled her nose.

"See, I wasn't gonna say anything, but you do need to hit the shower 'cause... whoa!" She began laughing and stared at her for a moment before pushing her out the door and slamming it shut behind her laughing figure.

"Jerk," I laughed to myself, adjusting the temperature and stripping down to my skin. I looked at my naked body from all angles briefly before sighing. What the hell did he love about me? I mean, don't get me wrong, I could see that I was good looking, but he was Justin Timberlake. How many gorgeous women has he encountered? What the hell was so great about me that he couldn't leave me when I treated him like shit? Well, I guess it really wasn't that great 'cause he's gone now.

Just gone.

I felt the tears coming and I bit my trembling bottom lip. The warm water rolled over my skin as I stepped into the tub. It was relaxing me and I sighed as I placed my face beneath the steady stream. My tears flowed freely from my eyes and I slumped over, allowing myself to fall apart in the privacy of the room as Nicole belted out a Beyonce tune in the background. At least somebody was happy and completely unaware of just how terrible they were.

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

Have you ever had the feeling of an itch? Not some physical itch that you scratch and then it's gone, but that something in the pit of your stomach that irks your freakin' nerves because no matter how many times you eat, shop, sing, talk, laugh, cry, or scream, it's there. It's there and unsatisfied and driving you crazy because you don't know what the hell to do to make it stop so you can hold onto, and even regain, some of your sanity.

I have that itch, but what fuckin' irks my nerves more than the itch itself is the cure that I know will put the itch to its end: Teresa. Yes, it's her. It has to be her. I've done everything I could think of to get her the fuck out of my system and off my mind, but nothing has worked. I still feel like... ugh. Yes, ugh. I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I just feel like lying in bed and not doing anything, but I have responsibilites. I have my music, my dogs, my friends and family, and my date. Yes, my date. The date that I'm in right now and can't seem to concentrate on.


Back to you
It always comes around
Back to you. . .


Who would've thought that Jessica Alba would have to fight for my attention? Yes, I'm dating her. . . kinda. It's a third dinner and it was going well until I started staring at something over her shoulder and drifting off to Teresa Land. She's telling me about her guitar lessons... At least she was. I don't know. Ten minutes of our date has been erased from my mind.


I tried to forget you
I tried to stay away
But it's too late...


"So... yeah," she giggled, "Sorry for boring you." My eyes slowly slid over to her brown ones and her full lips were smirking at me. "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"

"What?" I asked, panicking slightly before turning into my casual self, "No... I mean, yes, I did hear you. No, I did not not hear you." She giggled again and shook her head.

"It's okay, Timberlake, I can take it," she assured, leaning back in her seat and smiling brightly, "My failed guitar lesson story isn't that great anyway."

"I thought it was funny," I said, "When you got the hook to the song wrong and your gramps goes 'Ay Dios mio! Jessica, do you want me to die?' was hilarious." She laughed and I was saved from my own stupidity.

"Okay, maybe you were paying attention," she smiled, "Maybe." I couldn't help but chuckle myself. She was smart. And funny. And fuckin' gor-ge-ous. But Lord knows that my itch is still itching. This is ridiculous.


Over you
I'm never over
Over you
Something about you. . .


"I swear I'm a good listener," I told her, "I just got a lot of shit in my head, ya know?"


It's just the way you move
The way you move me. . .


"Yeah, I know," she nodded, "It's okay, boy, you can relax. I'm not one of those chicks that flip out when they're not getting 100% of a guy's attention."

"You mean you're not a chick at all," I laughed, "What woman doesn't want attention?"

"I never said I didn't want it," she stated shyly, "It's just that it's okay for you to space off. If you stick around long enough, you'll see I do it too." My chest tightened, but it was with excitement. The way she said 'if you stick around...' made it seem like she wanted me to stick around and that it wasn't pressured, but hopeful.

"I guess I'll be seeing space out," I told her, "'Cause got a feeling I'll be sticking around." She raised her brows and laughed lightly.

"That confident, huh?" she asked.

"You could say that."

"Well, Mr. Timberlake, I do like a confident man." I pointed to my puffed out chest and grinned.

"Well, you got him," I said before leaning over, motioning for her to do the same, "Any time, any place." I whispered before laughing. She cracked up herself, cutely covering up her mouth with her manicured hand.

"You are bad," she commented, "But I like bad boys too." She winked at me and I bit my bottom lip before she giggled and called over the waiter. Yes, check please.

Okay, I haven't done everything to get Teresa off my mind. I haven't done Miss. Alba... yet. But with the way she's eyeing me from across the table, I can bet money that that's going to change. My stomach turns into a nervous knot when she smiles as we rise from the table and make our way out the back door. Her arm loops through mine as we giddily walk over to my BMW and she stops to kiss my cheek before getting into the passenger side door that I'm holding open for her.

"I forgot to get us dessert," I realized as I slipped inside the car and buckled my seat belt.

"That's okay," Jessica said, "I'm sure we can find something at my place." I turned to face her.

"Really?"

"Mmmhmm..." she all, but moaned, "I've got a hell of a sweet tooth." My eyes glanced down to her lips, which I have yet to kiss, and I quickly imagined what they tasted like before putting the car into gear.

"Your place it is."

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

There wasn't any dessert at Miss. Alba's place, but there were lots of sweets on Miss. Alba's body. Her gloss tasted like sour apple and her skin was like vanilla and cotton candy. She smelled even better when my lips were on her neck and my nose was brushing her skin; her soft, tan skin. She was golden, almost shimmering, in her living room light as she straddled my waist. Her dress was up to her hips, which were rotating on mine as we sucked on each other's mouths and she held my neck and head with her hands.

Her lips were big and soft and knew exactly what they were doing as we finally pulled apart and she found my bare chest and suckled on my pecs. I was leaning my head down, watching her tongue run over my nipple as my hands slid down her back and gripped her ass. She moaned and came back to my lips, kissing me hard and deep. Her tongue was like velvet on mine and I could feel the rush of blood flowing through my erected member causing it to press against my underwear and pants. Her hands were on me though, massaging through the materials. She was handling me so well that I felt like newcomer at some points, but I lifted her and myself up, slamming her back on the wall by her stairs. She groaned out in pain and pleasure and grinded on me from our angled position.

"Shit," she hissed as I popped the strap of his dress, pulled it down to reveal her breast, and sucked the living shit out of it. She threw her head back and it slammed against the wall, causing me to hault my actions to grimace.

"Are you okay?" I asked, rubbing the back of her head.

"Yeah... yeah..." she panted distractedly as she pushed my head back down to her breast. I brought it back to my mouth and worked it as she ran her hands over my head. I pulled down the other strap of her black dress and sucked her exposed flesh. She was moaning so much that I thought I'd make her come like this. Why couldn't I please Teresa like that? Why didn't she come when I just sucked on her nipples? I tried to turn her on more than I have anybody else because I wanted her to feel what I was feeling, even if it was just when we were making love.


Back to you
It always comes around
Back to you. . .


I dropped Jessica to the floor and took her hand, leading her up the stairs. I didn't want to fuck in her living room. A lame ass part of me wanted the feel of the bed. To imagine that it was really something special and not just anything. A very lame, pathetic part of me.


I walk with your shadow
I'm sleeping in my bed
With your silhouette. . .


"Where's your room?" I asked, already walking down the left side of the hall.

"It's at the end," Jessica said, kicking off her heels as I dragged her along. I got to the last door and turned the knob. It opened, revealing a nutural colored room. All types of greens, browns, creams, and some gold decorated the space and her bed was ivory and brown and full of a million pillows. I furrowed my brows, realizing that I had no idea what Teresa's bedroom looked like. At Nicole's or Shane's. I wondered if it was pink or blue or tan like this one. I wondered if she had pictures of the family she never spoke about or a had a shelf of books we used to discuss while we were friends. I wondered if she kept her millions of shoes in a closet or if they lied everywhere and anywhere. I just wondered how she lived.


Back to you
It always comes around
Back to you. . .


"Hey, I'm over here," Jessica purred, knocking me out my trance as I turned around slowly to find her leant up against her closed white door in nothing but lacy, black underwear. I could tell they were boy shorts by the way they fit on her hips and as she sashayed toward the bed I could see the hit cut heart shape cupping her ass in the best way.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

"I think I'm over dressed for this special occassion," I joked and she laughed, biting her bottom lip as she climbed onto the bed and sat back on her legs. She placed her hands on her touching knees and her breast squeezed together in a delicious cluster.

"Well, fix it," she smiled, watching as I unbuttoned my dress shirt and unbuckled my belt. My pants dropped and I kicked them off before placing my shirt on one of the post of her bed. My white undershirt went next before I reached for my boxer briefs. Shy Miss. Alba disappeared completely as my underwear dropped and I sprung free, confidently. She was licking her lips like a hungry animal and I smirked cockily (no pun intended) as I walked over to where she kneeled. Before I could do anything, she grabbed my waist and took me in her mouth - just like that.

My eyebrows raised and I gasped in surprise and pleasure as she engulfed me completely. I was amazed as my eyes closed and I grunted. I could feel the bitch cry ready to leave my throat as her tongue ran quick, wet lines up and down my shaft as she moved her head about. I was touching the back of her throat when she moaned, sending the vibrations right through me. I opened my eyes and looked down at her, only to find her staring up at me. She wasn't shy, but I suddenly found myself to be. I haven't been this intimate with anyone but Teresa. Yes, I saw Nicole naked, but we never did anything. Nothing but kissing and shy touching. It was weird. I always had Teresa on my mind when I looked at her, seeing her looking back at me, knowing that those same brown eyes saw Teresa everyday.


Doesn't it scare you...


And now, as Miss. Alba gives me some of the best head of my life, I can't even think about it. My body is even struggling to stay turned on, so I close my eyes and I think of Teresa. I imagine her light green eyes looking at me and her soft, warm mouth working me with the help of her skillful tongue. I feel guilty, but then I don't feel anything but Jessica and her body on mine, even if I'm imagining it being Teresa.


That your will is not as strong...


I still please her. I still have her calling my name, even as I struggle not to say Teresa's. She doesn't know what I'm thinking and she doesn't have to. What she doesn't know won't hurt her. I won't tell her that if I wasn't imagining Teresa doing me, she would've never gotten me off. She doesn't know that everytime she came, I was disappointed because she didn't hold me or call me the way Teresa did. I won't tell her that after tonight, I'll probably never call her again.

No, she won't know that. She can't know any of that.

Except the never calling again. That she'll know know in two weeks when she realizes that I'm not that damn busy and that I'm just blowing her off after getting blown. I'll be labeled as the biggest jackass ever in her book and to all her girlfriends, but I don't even care. Don't get me wrong, I care, but I can't do anything about it. It is what it is. I'm not gonna spill my whole life story to Jessica so she can feel bad for my pathetic ass and drop me first after months of me lazing around, unable to 'function' unless I call out Teresa whenever I come.

Yeah... It's better this way.

Don't judge me either. Don't think 'why'd you even bother?' because I had good intentions. I do like her to an extent and had I been under any other circumstance, I would've let it go as far as it could, but Teresa's on my brain and it's not fair to use people. I thought it was just weird with Nicole because they were friends, so I ended it and got with Jessica (after a dozen other ruined dates) and we were on a roll. We were still rolling around, but my brain is doing too much. I just want it to be over so I can sneak out to my own car to get my own home to sleep in my own bed wrapped up in my own misery. That isn't too much to ask, is it?

Besides, she'll get over. We're not in love. I'm just another Hollywood jerkoff she had to come in contact with, and I'm sure I won't be the last, so it's fine. She'll be fine. It'll all be fine.


As it used to be?

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

Everything hurt. It hurt so bad that I could barely contain the pain. There were a million and one times where I wanted to just fall over and moan in agony as my body burned and struggled to catch up and stay up with itself. It was like my mind was going and my body was trailing behind it. As my thoughts raced along, my legs came close behind them. Thump. Thump. Thump. My feet sounded so loud against the cement. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. My heart was pounding. I was gasping for air as I turned around the corner and past yet another house. I didn't even know where I was anymore, but the more I moved, the less and less crowded it became. People seemed to have become less involved with the outside world, peaking out their windows ever so often to stare and wonder what it's like out there.


Early was the morn
Flowers filled with dew. . .


I wanted to tell them all that it wasn't so great on the outside. That people got hurt all the time and fucked up the more the ventured outward. There were diseases and wars and heart break. That life inside was so much better because curiousity hadn't killed the cat; finding the truth did.


I became somebody through loving you. . .


I felt myself ready to cry and I scoffed at my own sensitivity. I was trying to run it off. I was trying to runaway. Another mile, another block, another step further. From the pain, the lies, the steady sound of my ever breaking heart. It was impossible though. It seemed that the further and faster I ran, the move they all caught up to me.


Softly as a child
Born in natural rain
I predict the seasons
To go unchanged. . .


Part of me wondered why I was running away rather than toward. Toward him, where I wanted to be rather than on an unknown street at the crack of dawn, the clouds swallowing the sunny sky whole.


Sometimes dear life
You run across a love unknown. . .


But then I reminded myself that his arms wouldn't wrap around me unless it was to shake me into some type of a coma.


Without a reason
It seems like you belong. . .


But I loved him, right? Even if I was a complete and utter bitch, that had to count for something. He loved me too. Even if he's mad as hell and says he never wants to see my face again... he loves me, right?


Hold on dear life
Don't go off running from what's new. . .


Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. I could hear my feet resounding in my ears as I ran faster. A sob caught itself in my throat and as the wind hit my face, I felt my tears cool on my cheeks.


I became somebody through loving you. . .


Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. My heart ached. It was a sharp pain that caused me to grab my chest and come to a hault. My sneakers skid on the grass as I tumbled to the muddy ground. I landed on my arm and the soft earth cushioned my fall. I was confused as to where I was until my eyes focused on a swing set across the way. The rusted chains squeaked as the wind blew and my chest was heaving in and out; cold air filtering in and out. I was lying on my side, looking crazy and covered in mud, but I couldn't even move. My legs were tight and my chest was burning. My lungs were working overtime trying to get in tune and my eyes were still crying silent tears. I glanced up at the sky and found that the sun had finally broke through the clouds and I found myself overwhelmed with sadness.


Warm was the sun
That covered my body so
Reminded me of you
As I'd first known. . .


I can't do this.


Those were the days
A day that changed my life
And made me do. . .


I couldn't live like this anymore.


I became somebody through loving you. . .


The weight was too much. The guilt and the pain. I loved everybody too much and I was realizing that I didn't love myself enough. That's why I pushed everybody away. That's what I couldn't even understand my own logic. That's why I'm ashamed.


As the sun shines
Down on me
I know with you in love is where I wanna be. . .


I needed to be honest. With everybody.


Ooooh sometimes I go on through life
Thinking that love is something that's
Not meant for me. . .


I couldn't be like this. I wasn't going to ever be happy unless I was honest. Unless I knew that I had really done everything I could to fix the situation at hand. To really be okay with everybody and everything, I needed to do this. Even if it hurt now, it would leave me feeling better in the long run.


Hold on dear life
Dont go off running from whats new
I became somebody through loving you. . .

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

Okay, so maybe things weren't okay. Miss. Alba was blowing up my phone like I smacked her mama. What the fuck did she want from me? I don't know. She called and did the usual 'what happened? was it me?' thing before going into the semi-usual 'fuck you!' thing, but now, she just calls and doesn't leave a voicemail. She's just waiting for me to pick up the phone, but I hope she's not holding her breath.

I know, it seems mean, but honestly, I would be a waste of the woman's time. She's sexy as hell, she can get another dude. Lil' ol' me on the other hand is permanently scarred by the Teresa bug and unable to function in a normal relationship. I've taken it upon myself to write twenty-five new songs, all involving regret, misery, and anger. It was pretty pathetic because anybody who knew would know it was all about her. About missing her face and her smell and her laugh.


You spurn my natural emotions
You make me feel like dirt
And it hurts...


But I think it's helping with the post-break up craziness. It's not as painful as I imagined, but it still hurt. I told myself, like my mama told me, to give it time, but time is of the essence. I wasn't getting any younger and the more and more I waited this out, the more opportunities I lose with other women. Not that I want other women. Seriously, no matter how rich, funny, sexy, tall, thick, curvy, creative, or stylish a woman is, my head won't seem to make any effort to turn in their direction. It's like I'm in a relationship; too happy to even care about other women. But I'm not in a relationship. I'm not happy. I'm completely depressed.


And if I start a commotion
I run the risk of losing you
And that's worse


This is a whole new realm for me. Even win that skank Britney cheated on me, I could fuck my problems away with more women than I could count or remember, but with Teresa... I just don't want anybody else.

And I hate it. I can't even get myself off. I had this insane urge to, but I couldn't. I thought about her and it worked for a while until I remembered that it wasn't her, so I just gave up and went to sleep.

That isn't normal, right?


Ever fallen in love with someone
Ever fallen in love
In love with someone
Ever fallen in love
In love with someone
You shouldn't've fallen in love with. . .


A guy my age is suppose to have a healthy sex drive and want it and need it whether it's from a magazine or a cute girl walking down the street. He's not suppose to be a chick about it. I have a fuckin' penis and I don't even know what to do with it. How is it fair that I tried to go about Teresa and I the right way and she's the one getting laid and I'm the one who can't even jerk off?


I can't see much of a future
Unless we find out what's to blame
What a shame. . .


I get so angry thinking about it sometimes that I find myself saying that I hate her and everything she has done to me and my emotional health, but then I tell myself to stop lying because she would have to smack my mama - twice - to get me to fully hate her. I mean... I cried for this woman. For the loss of her and myself. I cried because I knew that she was in love with a no good dirt bag cheater who was still better than me. As much as my mom told me I was wonderful, it wasn't the same as Teresa saying it. I mean, she's my mom. She's suppose to think I'm wonderful, but I could have Teresa look me in my eyes and tell me she loves me, that would be it. I'd be done.


And I wish I could go back
To the day before we met
And skip my regret. . .


I hate to admit it, but that is what it is. I know my heart's gonna break harder everytime she leaves, but I'll love her because she loves me. That's pathetic, right?

I guess that's why I was so mad the last time I saw her. That's why I was so enraged I was throwing things. I wasn't even that mad as her. I was more pissed at myself because I know people treat you the way you let them and I knew that if I laid down like a welcome mat, she would surely step all over me, but I did it anyway. I was fighting myself that day in the kitchen. I was trying to blame her, but in the end, it's mostly me.

Yes, she's charming and a seductress. Yes, she makes me laugh and moan and come and then leaves. Yes, she wears the boots I like and curls her hair so I can fluff it with my fingers. Yes, she lets me love her and pretend to love me back for two seconds before Shane enters the picture again. Yes, she does all these things, but I'm the one who tolerates it. I'm the one who feeds off of it. I'm the one who kisses and touches her with everything in me, trying to win her heart when it's already held in someone else's hand.

Or maybe that's just what she wants me think so she could get off scott free.

I ponder over that before my phone starts vibrating. Miss. Alba flashes across the screen and I roll my eyes. For the love of God, give up, woman! I want to scream into the phone, but I don't. I let it vibrate to my voicemail and peel myself from the couch. I've become a potato and I blame Trace for that. His strict 'no excessive exercise' policy has left me feeling out of shape, so I made my way to the other side of my mansion and into the gym. I looked around the room at all the weights and treadmills and bicycles and excercise balls before sighing.

"Time to sweat it out. . .," I announced to myself, sitting on the benchpress and laying. ". . . in the most boring way possible." I rolled my eyes and gribbed the bar above my head, lifting, bringing it to my chest, and lifting it again. I took in a breath. One down, ninety-nine to go.

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

In two weeks I've managed to squeeze in four girls night, two pedicures, a mani, a hair styling session, two music nights, a trip to the park, dinner at Costello's, and jogging sessions every other day and lots and lots of pictures. More than I could develop and upload and frame. I was on a best friends forever mission and Nicole had taken notice of my sudden need to be around her twenty-four-seven.

She just didn't know why.

But she would... soon. As in seconds when I finally get the courage to come down the stairs and face her. But I was so scared that I found myself fighting off tears before they even tried to fall. My hands were shaking and my stomach was knotting up on so many levels. I felt sick. Sick right in my gut and my heart was tightening in my chest.

After my run, I knew what I had to do. I knew I couldn't stand myself any longer if I didn't just be honest, regardless of the consquences. I waited long enough. I mulled over it. I practiced in the mirror and wrote it out. I tried a million times to start the conversation, but always got so scared in the end.

But I had to say it tonight. I had to do it if I didn't want to go completely insane. I had to do it because Nicole deserved a better me. She just deserved better.

I breathed through my nose and let out a shaky breath before finally descending upon the stairs. They creaked beneath my feet and it was booming my ears. My heart was racing and I felt like I was running again. Even my tears were cool against my cheeks as I landed at the bottom of the stairs.

"You ready for the Orlando Bloom, night?" Nicole's cheerful voice squealed excitedly as I watched her dig through the shelves of DVDs in her living room with her back to me and smiled. She really loved Orlando Bloom. I promised if I ever saw him, I'd steal a lock of his hair for her. Just for her.

"Nick-" My tongue fell limp in my mouth and I tried to regain my composure as I wiped my tearing eyes, "Nicole." She finally turned around to face me with several DVDs pressed against her chest.

"What's wrong?" she asked, dropping the movies on her couch and rushing over toward me. She went to wipe my tears away, but I held her wrists. "Tee?" As I looked into my best friends eyes I realized that she really was all I had and was more than just a friend. She was family. My only family. My only everything.

And I was going to lose her.

"We have to talk." She nodded and stared at me expectantly. I tried to swallow back a sob, but it whimpered out of my throat.

"Teresa, girl, it cannot be that bad," she assured. "We'll work it out." I squeezed my eyes shut. No, we won't.

"Nicole," I mumbled, sniffling and wiping my cheeks clean. "You might want to sit down for this one."

Die Alone


I wailed in pain before covering my mouth with my hand. My sobs still seeped through the gaps of my fingers like grains of sand as my tears drenched my skin.

"Tee, please, calm down," Nicole cooed, trying to comfort me with a small, uncertain smile. I was crying so hard and the more I tried to regain my composure, the worse it seemed to get.

"Nicole," I said softly, hiccupping along the way, "I love you so much and I want you to remember that."

"I love you too," she automatically replied, just like I knew she would. I just needed to hear it one last time.

"I'm sorry for what I'm gonna say," I sniffled, "I'm sorry that I even did any of it because it was so stupid. It was all so stupid."

"It's okay..." Nicole smirked, "We've both done our fair share of stupid things." I shook my head.

"It's always been me," I told her, "I've always fucked things up."

I blindly dug through the dark closest in search of my suit case. The cool leather touched my finger tips and I used what little strength I had to pull it out from the bottom shelf. It hit the floor with a loud thump and I fell back onto my butt. I quickly got up as yet another cry left my throat and dragged the case to the bed, tossing it on the mattress.

"Teresa, you've been through it," Nicole said, "If you fuck up a little, I think it's understandable."

"No, it's not," I impugned, "Nicole, you didn't even deserve any of this, yet you held my hand right through it."

"Teresa, you're my best friend," she stated sharply, "You're my sister and will hold your hand through anything."

"Not anything," I mumbled, "Not this."

I didn't even care about what I was tossing into that damned black case as I dug through my drawers and grabbed whatever I could get my hands on. Shirts, jeans, underwear. I stuffed them into the bag and never thought about folding them.

"Will you stop talking crazy and just tell me what the hell is going on?" Nicole snapped, her frustration clearly evident.

"It's about Shane and I..." I trailed off and she rolled her eyes, "And Justin." I added and her face scrunched up.

"Who the hell is Justin?" My bottom lip quivered as I sighed.

"Timberlake."

"You know a Justin Timberlake?" I looked up at her and shook my head, waiting for the realization to hit her. When it did, just two seconds later, her face flattered. "What about Justin?"

"Nicole..."

"Teresa, tell me you didn't," she pleaded, "Tell me you did not do what I think you did."

"We were already sleeping together long before you even met him," I said, "And once after he broke up with you." I looked down at my hands. "It was never during your time together, I swear."

"Wow," she said in awe, "Wow."

When the first case was full, I zipped it up and went back to the closet in in search of another. I found a duffel bag instead and began to toss in some shoes and toiletries. I found a photo album and tossed it into the bag with my perfume and hair things and the rest of my life, my tears never stopping for a second.

"Him and I-"

"How could you have been with him if you were with Shane?" Nicole interrupted and I looked up into her eyes.

"I..." My mouth went dry as her eyes bore into mine.

"You what?" she challenged. The intimidation of her stare caused me to cast my eyes downward.

"I guess I cheated," I finally voiced.

"You guess?!" Nicole yelled suddenly, causing me to jump back as she stood. "You sure as hell knew how to do it, but you don't even know what it is?"

"It's not the same," I argued, "Shane was messing around on me! He cheated first and he didn't even care after me and Justin got together."

"And that makes it okay?" she asked, "Teresa, do you hear yourself? Do you hear what you're saying?"

"Yes, I do and I'm sorry that it's that way, but that's what it is."

"And I'm suppose to just accept the fact that you're a fuckin' ho?" Her words struck my heart with piercing force and I felt small beneath her stare.

"I was only with Justin," I said, "Nobody else but him."

"Right, I forgot," she said sarcastically, "You were just with Justin; the same Justin that you let me get with knowing that you already had him."

"He made you happy," I said gently, "I didn't want to take that away from you."

"Teresa, you fucked him," she groaned, "You fucked him and I'm suppose to pick up your sloppy seconds."

"What would you have done if I told you?"

"I certainly wouldn't have been with him that long," she shrieked, "And God, what about all that shit I told you about him? About his kiss and his touch and the whole... shower thing. You knew! You knew what it was like already and you let me look like a fuckin' idiot being all hopped up on him."

"I didn't know what to say," I whined.

"How 'bout 'Hey, Nicky, I kinda sexed him up already'?"

"I just..." I trailed off, "I didn't want to have to tell you about Shane and I being as bad as we were -"

"Way to play victim on that one," she cut in, "All that bullshit about Shane being the dog in the relationship. I actually feel kind of bad for being so mean to him. Maybe I should've directed half that hatred toward you."

"Nicole-"

"And some best friend you are for telling about all this, even before I started going out with Justin," she shook her head, "I saw myself having children with him. I told you that and you smiled in my fuckin' face."

"Justin and I weren't together any more," I assured, "We weren't even really together in the first place. It was just suppose to be about sex, but he got all caught up and with Shane not caring, I got attached too."

"Wait, what?" she asked, "What do you mean by 'caught up' and 'attached'?"

"Justin always wanted something more from me, but I thought I loved Shane, so I just kept pushing him away, but now..."

"Now what?" she asked, "You love him too?" My head snapped up at the question and my eyes welled up with tears.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," I heaved as I tried to control my breathing. I was starting to feel lightheaded and queasy. The last thing I needed to do was faint. If I was unconscious, Lord knows what Nicole would do if she found me unable to defend myself.

"I..." my tongue fell limp and I struggled to gain the right words. I had never voiced that I loved Justin to anybody but myself and the last person I wanted to say it to was Nicole.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said softly in response to my silence. My hands were shaking as I stared down at them. I had never felt so scared and low before. Nicole has never been this mad. I didn't know how to deal with it. I felt like a child again, being scolded and looked down upon by the one person who was suppose to love me unconditionally.

"Nicole, I'm sorry," I breathed, "I'm so, so sorry. I-"

"Stop," she cut in, "Please, just stop." And I did. I zipped my lips so fast that they chapped up. My eyes slowly traveled up the length of Nicole's short body before staring at the side of her face as she looked away from me. I was afraid to breathe wrong as the deafening sound of nothingness boomed in my ears.

My heart was pounding and I wished that I were running again; away from all this. Away from the pain that's in my chest because I know what's going to happen. I saw that same look of distain in my mother's eyes when she finally had enough of me. My prediction still did not help to ease the sharpness of Nicole's heavy sigh. It did not stop my tears from falling thicker and more frequent. It did not help with the pain of knowing that I had once again messed up one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

And it certainly didn't stop Nicole from saying the one line I had been dreading since the day I kissed Justin, knowing she'd never approve.

"Get out," she finally spoke, her tone demanding, but reluctant, "You have to go." My knees wobbled beneath my weight and I gulped back another cry. I tried to catch her eyes, but she wouldn't look over at me. She just stood there, with her hand on her hip and the other wiping away a tear she tried to hide from me. My guilt weighed heavier on my soul as I watched her heart break right in front of me. I could tell her anger was no longer an issue, but her pain was. If this was hurting me, it had to be killing her. Nicole felt for me like nobody else did and even though none of my mistakes have been her fault, she always blamed herself for it somehow. Even now, I know she's thinking that she had done some wrong.

I want to slap myself for her sometimes. Nicole, my sister, my best friend, and my mother. She was my sole confidant. She loved me more than I could ever love myself, and yet I finally did away with her. I finally fucked up enough to make her hate me. She had finally kicked me out and pushed me away like everybody else did. I was no longer her burden.

With my bags packed and a taxi outside waiting for me, I lugged myself out of Nicole's house. My chest was burning and my stomach was churning. Where the fuck was I gonna stay? How would I fix things with Nicole? Could I fix things with Nicole? My mind was racing with thoughts.

And for the first time, I couldn't seek solace in Justin because I had ruined that too. I had no idea about what I was gonna do. I didn't even know what to say to the driver when he asked me where to.

"Just...drive and I'll tell you where to stop." I looked at him in the rearview mirror and he furrowed his brows.

"All right, Miss..." he mumbled with uncertainty before pulling away from the curb. I looked down at my hands, not wanting to see the house or Nicole moving further and further away from me.


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


I yawned and stretched my arms above my head as I tried to crack my back all at once. It didn't work and I ended up reaching to touch my toes before turning from side to side. I groaned in frustration as the crink wouldn't crack and bent backward, trying to get the pop I needed. Nothing happened and flopped back onto my king sized bed, breathing out some frustrated air from my lips.

It was only eleven-thirty and I was bored as hell, just like I was bored as hell after my run at seven. I had nothing to do. Yes, I could fly to Europe or party in New York, but... I didn't want to. I wasn't bored in the sense of not having anything to do, per se, it was more of a boredom of having a choice of eveything else, but one thing.

I was lonely.

There, I said. Again. I was fuckin' lonely. Yeah, I could afford a pretty good hooker, but I didn't want to. I wanted something that would cure my loneliness forever, not just for a couple of hours for a few thousand bucks. Even my dogs were boring me. Hell, they were bored of me. Bella ran when she saw me now 'cause all I did was smother her with the love I couldn't give to anyone else. I was absolutely pathetic. Even my dogs knew it.

My mom had my stepdad. My dad had my step mom. Trace had Elisha and Mike had Pearl. Johnny had Crystal and Pharrell and Chad had their ladies. Timbo had his baby momma and who did I have? Nobody. My loyal doggie even hates me now. No female wants me. Not the way that I want them to. Not genuinely.

That's sad, right?

I roll my eyes at my ceiling before the sound of my Ginuwine ringtone catches my ear. I'm shocked for a moment, but then slowly mull over the possibility that it's not happening. I just lay there until it stops ringing and then reach over to grab my phone.

1 missed call Reese's Cup

And then I shit a golden brick as the little voicemail tape pops up with a jingling bell sound. I pause, trying to calm my nerves as I flip my cell open and press dial.

"You have one unheard message," the operator informs me, "First unheard message." My chest tightens as I chew on my bottom lip and press the phone closer to my ear. There's a long silence before I hear a heavy sigh.

"What am I doing?" I hear Teresa ask so quietly that I almost miss it and then the click happens.

"End of message. To delete press-" I hang up and sit up against my headboard. My phone was gripped in my hand so tightly that my knuckles were turning white. I chewed heavily on my bottom lip and tried to keep myself from dialing those familiar digits and hearing her voice again. My lonliness was overwhelming me. I had to toss the phone into the corner of the room and walk out of it before I ran back to retrieve the silver device and call her back.

I slowly, reluctantly, walked down the carpeted hall and jogged down the stairs in need of a Heinekin. But before I could even get off the base of the stairs, the doorbell resounded and I walked toward the foyer. It was a bit chillier tonight than the normal LA weather and I shivered in my black shorts and wife beater. My hand grabbed the knob of the door before I peaked through the hole. My brows furrowed when nothing stood on my stairs and I looked out the corner window to scope the grounds.

And then I saw her.

She seemed drunk as she wobbled down the gravel path of my driveway with a million bags attached to her body. The lights on my ground flooded out the darkness and I could see her so clearly with her hair in a bun, silver hoop earrings, gray t-shirt, and gray sweats to match. It took me a minute to realize that her form was getting smaller as she walked away from my home and I found myself desperately wanting her to stop.

The door was opened before I had a chance to think and it wasn't until my bare feet were on the cold stone of my stairs that I realized what I had done and what I was saying.

"You ringin' and runnin' now?!" I called out to her, causing her form to stop in its tracks. "That's low. Even for you." My words were light and my heart was raging as I waited for anything. For something. She just stood with her back to me and I stood there waiting. I heard Brian barking in the back and I turned to shush him for a second before looking back at Teresa. She still hadn't moved.

"Teresa?" I called, just to be sure I was really seeing her in the distance. I waited a moment longer and stepped down from the open door. "Teresa?"

And then she fell.

She thumped like the bags around her. Her knees hit the ground and I heard her whimper as I ran down the stairs, not caring that the gravel was hurting my feet as I did so. All I could see was her, on the ground, hurting, and as I moved in closer, I could hear her sobbing. My heart raced even more as I neared her.

"Teresa!" I called, going up hill just a bit before finally reaching her. "Are you okay?" I asked, stepping around all the luggage surrounding her hunched over form. When I kneeled down in front of her, her head was buried in her small nights, muffling her cries. "Ter-"

My voice caught in my throat as she suddenly launched up and hugged me around my neck. The gravel shifted below me as I momentarily lost my balance, but my arms remained at my sides, not even coming out to try and help me regain my composure. Her skin of face was warm and wet from her tears as she tucked her nose into my neck. I felt her shaking, unsure of it was from the cold or the fact that she was close to me again. My body was rigid as my defensive shot up and my heart fought against my better judgment. I didn't know what to do with myself. To hug or not to hug?

Her arms tightened around my neck, squeezing the life from me, but making me feel alive again all at once. My arms were shaking as the cautiously wrapped around her petite form; my hands hestaintly placing themselves onto her back. Her skin was warm beneath her t-shirt and her body jerked when I touched her. I rubbed her back in small, soothing circles like my mother had done to me when I cried and finally took notice of the words she was trying to say through her sobs.

"What?" I asked, completely missing everything. She cried some more and I found myself confused. "Teresa, please. I can't even hear you." I tried to move her out of my neck so her voice wouldn't be muffled, but she refused to let me go. My knees were starting to hurt with the small gray rocks digging into my sensitive skin.

I tried again to move her away from me and she fought for a little bit before finally letting me go. Her face was red and her nose was running. The puffiness of her eyes did nothing to approve her look and I felt sorry for her. My heart strings were being pulled once again as she looked down at her hands and tried to calm herself down. I sat back on my butt and she sat back on her legs as she bent herself back down to her knees as if she were praying to buddha.

"I'm sorry," she apologized as she sniffled, but continued to lay her head against her knees.

"Teresa..." I called, waiting for her to lift her head, but she didn't. "Look at me." She lifted her head up and looked to her right, wiping her face and sniffling again. "I'm over here." She sucked her teeth and unwillingly looked at me.

"You must think I'm crazy," she laughed to herself sadly as she looked away from me again.

"I confirmed your insanity a long time ago," I stated, "But I have yet to confirm why you're here, bawling your eyes out, and squeezing me to death." I hadn't meant to be so mean, but I was still angry as much as I was hurt. Part of me with disgusted by her very presence, but my softer side had to know what was bringing those tears to her eyes.

"Sorry about that," she sighed as she held back a fresh set of sobs, "I just... I don't know." I rolled my eyes.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" She looked at me with a frown and her eyes welled up with tears.

"Doesn't surprise me either," she muttered, "And I'm sorry for that too."

"Is that why you're here?" I asked impatiently, "Because if you're here to say sorry and get laid, this is no longer the place." I scoffed at her audacity and stood from the ground, wiping off my hands and knees.

"You're wrong," she said and I laughed drily.

"Right because you're here because...?"

"Because..." she trailed off.

"You don't know?" I filled in, "Shocking."

"I just got in a cab and ended up here," she told me, "I needed to go somewhere and I ended up here."

"Well, you're shit out of luck than 'cause my door's closed." She glanced over her shoulder at my front entrance and smirked.

"Looks open to me."

"You really haven't changed," I said disappointedly. I don't know what I was expecting anyway, but it still a sad sight to see.

"I didn't mean it like that," she quickly argued. "The door's open... like literally."

"Teresa, this conversation is looking pretty pointless right now," I sighed, "Unless somebody died, you need to get off of my property."

"Nobody died," she said, "Not physically anyway."

"What does that mean?"

"Why does it matter?" she suddenly snapped, "You don't care anyway, right?" I bit my tongue as I licked my lips.

"Guess not," I said, walking around her and her bags and towards the light shining through my open foyer door.


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


"Wait," I called out, but he kept walking. His retreating figure made me panick. I had come here for a reason. A really good one. "Justin, please."


I'm just a stranger, even to myself
A re-arranger of the proverbial bookshelf. . .


It seemed like he had suddenly become deaf and I was annoyed as I peeled myself up from the ground I had been lying on. My nose clogged up and my eyes were burning with irritation. I had cried so long in the house, during the argument with Nicole. I cried in the cab. I cried in arms. I know he didn't owe me anything, but I felt hurt that he could easily turn his back on me. I was the heartless bitch. Not him. Not the man I loved.


Don't be a fool girl, tell him you love him. . .


"I can explain!" I shouted as he almost disappeared into his estate. I saw him hesitate for a moment before he stepped inside and slammed the door shut. I felt like I had been slapped in the face and I had to close my eyes and regain my composure before gathering my shit up. My initial reaction was to go running down to those protective gates and calling a cab to pick me up. I was embarrassed and angry and he didn't even care enough to hear me out.

But then I remembered that I had fucked up my entire world and that I didn't have enough of anything left to hold my nose in the air and act like he owed me his time and energy. He had given me a enough; possibly too much, and I had pushed it all away. When I had him, I took him for granted, and even now, as I stand in the middle of a gravel lot with nowhere to go and nobody to love me, I still had the nerves to act all indignant.

It was my attitude that cost me everyone I loved and I couldn't bear the thought of having to suffer through another loss today. A loss of a chance to be honest and open and to know that my guard didn't always have to be up. That sometimes being vulnerable was the best way to protect yourself from harm.


Don't be a fool girl, you're not above him. . .


I dropped my bags and turned toward his home. My legs quickly walked down to his door and my hands banged onto its heavy wood. I waited and there was no reply. I rang the doorbell and then knocked some more. I knocked and rang the doorbell all at once. I probably looked like a stalker and I didn't even care. I had to tell him. He had to at least know, even if he didn't care.


I never thought I could love anyone but myself. . .


"Justin!" I yelled, "You have to open the door! Please!" My voice was strained as I began to felt defeated after ten minutes of being ignored. I banged with both of my fist and found tears falling from my eyes again. I was finally ready to love him and he wouldn't even give me the time of day. It seemed like the most fucked up situation and even though I brought it onto myself, I couldn't help but feel mistreated. My heart was right here, lying on his cold stone stairs and he wouldn't even crack open the door to see.


Now I know I can't love anyone but you. . .


My fist went for the door last time, but it swung open before I could touch the wood. I lost my balance since I had been partly leaning on the door and ended up slamming my face into Justin chest. He groaned and snatched up my wrists to push me back.

"What?!" he shouted in my face, holding onto my wrists. "What do you want from me?"

"I just want you to listen!" I yelled back. He dropped my wrists and stared at me.

"You've said enough to me," he said, "More than enough."

"I haven't told you anything," I impugned, "I haven't told you what you really needed to hear. I haven't told you the truth."

"The truth?" he scoffed, "Do you even know what it means to be truthful?"


You make me think that maybe I won't die alone. . .


"In my case, it means being absolutely terrified, but willing, regardless of the consequences because honesty is the only way. It's the only way to make everything so much lighter, even if you lose. The weight of a lie is no longer on your shoulders and there's nothing more liberating than knowing that you're no longer living a lie."

"Am I suppose to cry now?" he asked sarcastically, "'cause if I am, I just don't have it in me any more." My stomach knotted as I remembered how wounded he sounded when I told him I didn't love him. I remembered how he hunched over the sink and let his tears fall freely from his piercing eyes.

"I never wanted to make you cry," I stated softly, "I never wanted to hurt you-"

"Could you not?" he requested, already backing into the foyer, "I really don't have time for this, Teresa."

"Justin, I-" My words were wedged between my self-consciousness and defense and I tried to push them from my throat.

"You what?" he finally asked, annoyed with my sudden silence.


Maybe I won't die alone. . .


I couldn't seem to find my words and he rolled his eyes. I could see him detaching himself from the situation and I panicked as I tried to get him to stay.

"Don't," I said, "I'm gonna say, I just don't want to get it wrong."

"What?" he asked. "What could you possibly say to make things worse?"


What have I become?
Something soft and really quite dumb
Because I've fallen, oh, 'cuz I've fall-fallen, oh 'cuz I've fall-fall-fallen
So far away from the place where I started from. . .


"I'm not trying to make it worse," I said earnestly, "I'm trying to make it better."

"Well, Jesus better be in one of those duffel bags 'cause that's the only person that can make us better."


I never thought I could love anyone
I never thought I could love anyone
I never thought I could love anyone. . .


"Justin Randall Timberlake," I said sharply, "You and this sarcasm is making it harder to say this."

"Well, how about I help you out," he said, plastering on the fakest smile, "I'm just gonna head back inside, slam this door in your face, and then you can talk to nobody and not deal with me and my fuckin' sarcasm."

"You have a right to be angry," I told him, "But you have a right to know."


But you, but you, but you, but you, but you
But you make me think that maybe I won't die alone. . .


"To know what?" he huffed, a bored expression taking over his baby-like features. I searched his eyes and despite his asshole act, I could tell he wanted to know.

"Justin," I sighed, "I want you to know that this is the scariest moment of my life."

"I'm shaking in my Nike shorts," he quipped. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.

"I have to tell you though," I said, "I have to let you know this because I can't keep it in."

"Come on," he whined, "Just say whatever bullshit you have to say so I can get back to bed and-"

"I love you," I interrupted, surprising him and myself. My heart did a cartwheel and Justin's bored expression fell from his face. My shoulders were still heavy as his eyes searched mines and I licked my drying lips.


Maybe I won't die alone. . .

Second Thoughts


I think I'm in shock.

I saw her in front of me; looking slightly terrified, and I felt the wind brush against my cheeks. It was a gentle touch, but it shook me with its chill. I swallowed nothing and tried to lick my lips, but my tongue was dry. My mouth was dry. My brain was dry. I think it turned to dust because I can't even think. All I have is her words still ringing in my ears. The words that were never suppose to leave her mouth because they were never to be felt by her. Not for me anyway. It was suppose to be reserved for Shane and nobody else and now that they were directed at me, I didn't know what to do.

I thought I'd be completely elated when she finally said what I've dreamt about since the moment I kissed her and knew she was the one. I thought it would be okay and we could have our happily ever after, but now... now in the moment of its wake, I feel... numb. I feel like it's been said and now... what? Now what? Where do I go? What does it now mean for us? Is it really as important as I thought it was?

My heart fluttered in my chest with a nervous, cautious, and joyful feeling that left my stomach in a confused mushy mess that I couldn't really put my finger on. I looked over her shoulder when the defensive barks of dogs ran out across my gravel lot. She was standing there, waiting for me to say something that I had no idea how to say and I felt guilty.

This is what I've been pressuring her to do and say and feel and now that she's done it, I have nothing to say or do or feel. I tried to speak, but my mouth stood agape and her eyes widened slightly with a mix of worry and tears and a hint of regret.

"I'm sorry..." she began to apologize, "I just... I just thought I'd tell you..." She stepped down from where she stood on the steps in slow, backward motions, her eyes looking everywhere but mine in embarrassment. "I guess I'll just leave now..."

"Oh..." I mumbled dumbly as she quickly reached the last stair and turned away from me, heading toward her pile of luggage. She only two feet away before I realized she was packed quite heavily for an overnight stay and the question of where she was going came to my mind. "Wait!" She haulted, somewhat shocked by my too loud tone and turned around slowly; gravel rocks crunching underneath her sneaker clad feet. "Where... where are you going?" Her brows furrowed before I nodded toward her bags up hill.

"Oh..." she smiled briefly before faking a laugh, "That's... that's to be figured out." I walked down a stair and furrowed my brows now.

"What do you mean?" I asked, rubbing my arms as goosebumps covered my skin.

"I, uh, well..." she stammered, looking at her toes, "I'm kinda assed-out." She laughed drily and glanced over her shoulder at her luggage. "Yeah... that's... that's what I am."

"Aren't you staying with Nicole?" I inquired, "Did something happen to Nicole?" My arms crossed over my chest as I felt a bit of panic arise in my gut. I didn't want anything to bad to come and slap me in the face again. I would feel a million times guiltier of something happened to Nicole during our post-break up. That woman didn't deserve anything. She was caught in the crossfire of Teresa and I and that was not her fault in the least.

"Justin," Teresa said with a weight that made my own heart heavy. I could see her choking back a sob as her eyes glazed over.

"What?" I asked, my impatience and worry getting the best of me as she paused for a moment too long, "What is it? What happened?"

"Look, Nicole and I aren't... speaking any more," she sniffled as she wiped her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand. "Apparently honesty is the best policy with the worst results." She hugged herself as another breeze went by, tossing the loose strains of hair around her face. She looked down and I cleared my throat.

"So... you told her?" I tried to clarify so I could confirm what I was up against. She nodded.

"I'm sorry, but I had to," she explained, "I just... It felt so heavy and I felt like I was faking our entire friendship and I..." She trailed off, allowing her sob to finally escape her throat. I groaned when I felt the guilt double in my stomach. This was partially my fault and as much as I shouldn't care, I can't help but feel bad for the sobbing mess in front of me.

"Don't apologize," I told her softly, "C'mere." She looked at me and her bottom lip quivered.

"What?" she asked as if she were surprised. I opened my arms to her and wiggled my fingers.

"Just... c'mere." My heart was pounding as she walked slowly toward me and climbed up to the stair I was on. I backed up a bit to give her room as she scooted up to me. Her cheek was cold against the skin that was exposed by the scoop neck of my beater, but she quickly warmed me as she hugged me tightly. I sighed and she trembled and I found myself slipping back before I quickly pulled myself back together.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled against my skin.

"It's... it's not fine, but we're not gonna talk about that," I said firmly, "I'm letting you stay here in one of the guest rooms, but this isn't what I think you think this is. We're not even friends right now, Teresa. I'm just helping you out because you're in need." I felt her nod against my chest and I glanced up at the blackest blue sky, illuminated by the half moon shining. I asked the Lord to tell me why I was doing this, but the answer was still as clear as it was the first time I asked the same question so many years ago.

I love her. As a friend and as a lover, my heart still lied in her hands and it angered me. Now this. Now she's here and I'm helping her out when I should leave her out on her ass; where she belonged.

"Okay," I said, pealing her off of me. "Go inside and help yourself if you're hungry or something." She nodded and turned to walk inside before pausing.

"But I-"

"It's okay," I said, already knowing she was going to say something about her bags, "I've got the luggage." She nodded again, looking me in my eyes a moment too long, making me turn away and jog toward her pile of suitcases. I rolled my eyes when I glanced over my shoulder and saw her slip into the open door. I groaned as I focused my attention back on her stuff lying on the ground. I bent over and picked them all up, my feet starting to hurt from all the gravel.

"Sweet Jesus," I mumbled to the blackened sky as I dragged myself toward the house, "Give me strength."

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

I was sitting on the couch when I heard the door close and listened to Justin as he struggled to lock it behind him. I paused, but soon got up and walked over to the foyer. Justin finally relented and dropped a bag with a thud to free his hand and lock the door. His back was to me the entire time and when he finally turned and grabbed my recently dropped bag from the ground, he didn't look too pleased to see I was there.

"Could you pack a little lighter?" he quipped as I walked over and took two bags from his busy hands. My hands brushed his and I swore we both stopped breathing for a moment. I glanced up at him and took my bags before backing up into the living room. He followed suit in silence before excusing himself as he brushed past me. He headed up the stairs and I trailed behind him. When he reached the top, he paused, almost causing me to crash into his back.

"What?" I asked and got no response. He started to walk up the hall toward his bedroom before turning around sharply. I haulted my movements as he stood in front of me. His chest was so close to my face that my nose was practically brushing again the fabric of his beater.

"You're sleeping in the guest room," he informed the top of my head before I backed up a little. I felt some disappointment, but wasn't necessarily surprised.

"Okay," I replied before he turned back around and turned right up a little hall that lead to the guest room a few doors from his. He used his elbow to flip on the light switch, revealing the all beige, hotel-like room. He placed my bags on the carpeted floor and glanced around the room.

"T.V., movies, Playstation, bed..." He pointed as rubbed his hands together as he trailed off, "You know where and what everything is, so... I guess you can make yourself at home." I nodded and walked over to the full sized bed, sitting on its edge.

"Thank you," I said as sincerely as possible. He bit his bottom lip and nodded his welcome before turning to leave the room. "Justin?"

"Yeah?" he spoke, not turning around to face me. I frowned at his back and wondered how I could push him enough to make him uncomfortable around me after so many years.

"I just..." I slowly muttered, "If it's any consolation, she hates me more than you and I put it all on me..." There was a long pause before he walked out into the hall and went to pull the door behind him.

"Goodnight," he called before shutting the door. It echoed off the empty walls and I looked down at my lap.

"'Night." My words only met my ears and I fought off the lonliness that was beginning to overwhelm me. My stomach was aching as my eyes welled up with tears. I sighed and tried to push them back as I stood from the bed and went over to my luggage. I didn't know how comfortable or at home I should make myself feel because I wasn't too sure of how long Justin wanted me here, if he wanted me here at all.

I figured I'd just live right out of my suitcases in case I do something to fuck up this moment of kindness and get kicked out on my ass again. It'll be easier to leave if I'm already packed I thought to myself as I dug through my terribly stuffed clothes. Everything was wrinkled and terrible looking, but I didn't care. I just wanted pajamas so I could sleep. I was so exhausted that I didn't notice until I sat on the bed. But I would've stayed up if Justin asked me to though. A huge part of me wanted him to just talk to me. About anything really, as long as I got to hear his voice.

But I knew his kindness could only stretch so far, so I didn't say anything to make him stay. He wanted his space and I needed a place to live, so I had no choice but to respect his wishes for now. But I knew me. I knew I couldn't live in awkward silence, but I couldn't take the noise of screams and anger and tears either. I've had my fair share of that tonight; shit, I had more than enough of it in my life, so I could go without it.

I plopped down on the floor and grimaced when a pain shot through my forehead. The pounding of my temples soon followed and I groaned. A headache is just the cherry on top of the bullshit. I got up from the floor and tossed my PJs on the mattress before heading out of the door. I walked down to the guest bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet above the sink. I didn't even try to catch my reflection in the mirror while doing so because I knew I looked insane and I wasn't in the mood for a staring contest and a session of 'you suck, Teresa'.

"Motherfucker..." I grumbled when the Tylenol bottle was empty. I should've known. I didn't deserve to get rid of this headache. I had to suffer as much as possible. I dragged my sorry ass out of the bathroom and down the hall. Right before I turned into my room, I noticed Justin's light was on through a crack beneath his door. I paused. My head was pounding and I knew he always has Excedrin nearby...

My feet were walking before I was done thinking and I found myself at his door. For a moment I couldn't bring myself to knock, but my head couldn't take it. My fist lightly tapped before going back to my side. I could hear the volume of the televion lowering and the bed creaking. My heart fluttered as I paced myself for his presence.

The door swung open and he stood in a white t-shirt now. It was fitted and he was gorgeous in his simplistic clothing. Got damn it.

"My head hurts," I blurted out and he looked me over before turning around silently and walking back into his room. I stuck my head in the open door and watched as he slauntered into his bathroom. The light turned on and there was shuffling and the water ran before turning off. When he reappeared, he switched out the light and came toward me with a small glass of water. He opened up his palm and two white pills were seen. They looked so small in his hands when I took them and popped them in my mouth. He handed me the water and I drank it all before he took the glass back.

"Is that all?" he asked, a bit annoyed and a bit concerned.

I nodded. "Yeah... thanks."

"There's more medicine in the nightstand by your bed if you need anything else," he stated, "My mom even put some feminine shit down there if you need it." I laughed lightly.

"It's like she knew I was coming," I smirked.

"No," he said, completely unamused, "You're not the only female who stays here. She was just being prepared."

"Oh..." I said dumbly, "I know, I was just... joking, I guess."

"Yeah," he said before falling silent again.

"Well, thanks and goodnight," I said quickly before turning away and walking down the hall. His door shut behind me and I let out the breath I had been holding.

Yeah...just like that. Yeah. Four letters and I'm embarrassed, speechless, and confused. But then again, love is a four letter word and that didn't go to well for me either. Come to think of it, fuck is a four letter word too. And if I didn't fuck Justin while I was fuckin' Shane none of this shit (another four letter word) would've happened.

"Damn," I mumbled as I walked into my guest room. I smiled to myself sadly when I realized 'damn' was another four letter word. I climbed into bed. It creaked and squeaked beneath my weight and I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling. The lamp at my bedside illuminated the room before I reached over and turned it off, no longer able to bear the knowledge that this room was not his room, which I was used to sleeping in.

Now I'm just a guest.

I wasn't really expecting more, but I've become accustom to more when it came to Justin. This less thing was nawing it my nerves. Less respect. Less attraction. Less tolerance for my bullshit. Less talking. Less love... Yes, love. I had actually told him I loved him and he stared at me as if I just explained I had been abducted by aliens. It was a shocked, curious, excited, but frightful look that I didn't know how to feel about. Was it good or bad or nothing?

I groaned and covered my face in my hands, knowing that this was going to be an all nighter.

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

I tapped the tips of my left hand fingers on the marbel counter top of my kitchen as I idly sipped on my morning coffee while sitting on my wooden stool. My eyes were focused on the stone bowl in Trace's hands; green and speckles with spots of greys and browns. He was expertly beating eggs for the omlets he was preparing us to eat. The bowl was slightly tilted in his hands as he wisked them quickly with a silver fork; whipping the bright yellow and causing small bubbles to form around the edges.

A glint on the fork caused me to blink before I turned and looked over my shoulder at the bright sun that was shining through the wide sliding doors that lead to my backyard and pool. I could see my dogs jumping about in the green, freshly cut grass without a care and it made me smile before I realized that I wanted to trade places with them. I wanted to have the responsibility of nothing but looking cute and doing some tricks for a treat... Come to think of it, I spent a better part of my life doing just that as the 'cute one' in 'Nsync.

This only made me frown more.

"So..." Trace's low tone caused me to turn my attention back to his stout form. He poured the yellow beaten yolks over the saulteed onions and peppers and cubes of ham he already had in the skillet. The connection between them caused crackles and an aroma so delicious that I almost drooled.

"That smells good," I commented, smirking as I leaned over the counter to get a better look. "Why can't I cook like that?" Trace shrugged.

"Because you suck?" he suggested jokingly and I smiled.

"That must be it."

"Word," he finalized, "But at any rate, answer the question."

"There was a question?" I asked confused.

"Yes," he irritatedly replied, "So what's happening?"

"I don't know," I said, "Depends on what you're talking about." He gave me the most bored expression as he dug through my drawers for a spacula.

"I'm talking about the stupid skank upstairs," he clarified and I grimaced.

"Trace, please," I reprimanded.

"I'm amazed you still do that," he smiled sadly as he shook his head. "All the bullshit and I still can't call her skank without a slap on the wrist."

"Dude, just... call her by her name," I said before he went to open his mouth with a smart ass response. I quickly stopped him by adding, "Which is Teresa!"

"Whatever," he pouted, "How long is she staying here?" I pondered for a moment before relenting.

"I dunno," I mumbled.

"Well, she can't stay here forever, man," Trace said, "You have to have some idea about when she's leaving."

"Trace, for the love of God," I whined, "She came here last night. I haven't even had time to fully digest my dinner yet."

"Well you can't have her lolligaggin' around here thinking this is permanent," he stated firmly. "She has to know that this is different."

"She does know," I argued back, "She's in the guestroom."

"Yeah, tonight," Trace dismissed, "Whose to say what's gonna happen tonight?"

"I'm to say," I replied, "And I say she's staying in the guestroom until..."

"Until what?" Trace asked, "Until she gets a little frisky and starts sleeping in your bed?"

"Why are you being such a douchebag, Trace?" I snapped, haulting my sipping and tapping and happiness as I stared at the side of his face as he flipped the eggs over.

"Because you'e weak whenever she's around you," Trace said calmly, "And I don't want you to get hurt again after all that shit she's already done."

"I'm not gonna get hurt," I grumbled, "And I'm not weak."

"You love her," Trace said. I shrugged.

"I don't even know if that matters right now," I said, "I mean, don't get me wrong, when I saw her all pathetic and shit yesterday, it was there, but it feels... different. I don't know."

"What?" Trace asked, "You don't think you're in love with her anymore?" I opened my mouth to answer, but it simply opened and closed for a moment as I tried to gather my words.

"I-" I snapped my mouth shut when the pattering of feet caught both Trace's and mine attention. We looked at the entrance to the kitchen and watched as Teresa cautiously walked in.

"Morning," she greeted shyly, not bothering to look up from the tile floor as she stood at the door and held her hands together.

"Morning," I replied in a monotone as Trace continued to cook like he hadn't heard a word she said.

"That smells good," Teresa commented as she stepped futher into the kitchen and daringly looking at me with a small smile. I nodded in agreement.

"Trace learned how to cook sometime without me and is now a master chef."

"Oh, well that's cool," she said, "Y'all could've woken me up. I would've made breakfast." Trace snorted as he grabbed a plate from the dish holder. Teresa frowned. "It would've been the least I could do... with me staying here and all."

"Staying?" Trace questioned as he whipped his head around to shot her a disbelieving look. "I hope you don't think you and Jay are roomies now."

"Trace," I grumbled.

"I mean really," he baggered on, "You had enough nerve showing your face around here and now you're talking about 'staying'?"

"I didn't mean I was moving in," Teresa clarified, "I just meant for now."

"And how long is this 'now' gonna last?" Trace inquired. I sighed.

"I...I don't know," Teresa stammered, looking over at me with the saddest glimmer in her eyes. "I mean, I'm trying to find some place else to crash 'cause I know that I shouldn't be here... I just didn't have anywhere else to go."

"You are so full of it," Trace said, turning back to the plates he was preparing for him and I.

"You don't even know me," Teresa mumbled.

"I know enough," Trace replied, "And the least you can do while you're staying here is find some place else to stay; fast. And never offer to make breakfast again 'cause we all know what happened the last time you did that."

"Trace." My firm tone caused him to look at me.

"I'm just stating facts," he defended.

"You're being an asshole."

"Nobody asked you, bitch," Trace said, snapping his head in the direction of Teresa's sharp voice.

"Fuck you," she countered before Trace laughed.

"I'll pass," Trace smiled mockingly, "I don't do sluts." My palm connected with the counter top with a loud WHACK, 'causing them both to look at me.

"Trace, I told you stop," I said, "And Teresa, you need to get out as soon as possible. And both of you just need to shut the fuck up and not talk to each other for however long you're here."

"Whatever," they mumbled before Teresa grabbed an orange juice drink from the fridge and walked out of the kitchen and Trace finished up the last of the toasted bread. He practically threw my breakfast at me before stalking over to the kitchen table. His chair squeaked against the floor when he pulled it out and it squeaked again when he plotted down like an ill-mannered child who had just gotten in trouble. I shook my head and turned back to my food.

I couldn't even eat it. All I saw was myself tossing it at the back of Teresa's head and watching her shrink down to the smallest size she could be. My chest tightened as guilt overwhelmed me. I was trying to act like I was doing her a favor by letting her stay, but a large part of me wanted to make up for that morning. Even though it was not necessarily my fault, I was a little brass. I scared myself in the moment, so I can't even imagine how she must've felt.

And after all that, she still felt like this was the safest place for her to go. It made me terribly sad for her, but at the same time I was so deeply confused. She had told me she loved me. Right in my eyes she looked at me and said she loved me and all I wanted to say was 'what?'.

What. Yes, what. What the hell do you mean you love me? I almost killed her because she said that she didn't love me at all just a little while before and now... now she loves me? I couldn't tell if she had just lied for whatever reason or if I had distance myself so far from the idea of her actually loving me back that I made it almost impossible to believe that she did.

"Justin?" Trace's low and reluctant tone told me exactly what he was calling me to do, but I sighed and replied anyway.

"Yes, Trace?" I inquired in a slightly mocking tone that I could tell he picked up on when he hesitated to speak again.

"I'm sorry," he apologized in almost a whisper.

"What?" I asked, pretending to strain my hearing by cupping my ear.

"I said that I'm sorry," he grumbled, "Douche."

"Well, you're forgiven," I told him before quickly adding. "Asshole." He chuckled lightly before I found myself smiling.

"You're gonna let me eat at this table all by my lonesome?" I turned in my stool and he tilted his head and batted his lashes causing me to laugh.

"You're so gay," I commented before climbing out of my seat and grabbing my plate. I headed over to the table as Trace sat back and smiled.

"You want this," he said with comedic confidence and I raised a brow as I took a seat across from him.

"The only thing I want is for this to stop," I smirked. He reached over and grabbed a cube of ham from my plate before popping it into his mouth.

"Okay, I'm done now," he assured before grabbing the pepper grinder in the center of the table, "But yeah... I'm not really sorry about saying what I said to Teresa."

"I know," I said, "But it was kinda harsh."

"Truth hurts," Trace simply replied.

"She's not a bitch though," I defended, "Dude, she's a decent woman who does dumb shit."

"She's a whore."

"She's only been with me and that Shane guy," I told him.

"Yeah, that's what she said..." I went to say something back, but I had nothing to say. I did only take her word for it, so she could've very well have been with other men. My body tensed up as I began to feel dirty.

"Can we drop this topic?" I asked, picking at my omlet.

"Of course," Trace said, "But please don't push around your food. You'll ruin it." I paused and looked at him with a small smirk.

"Okay, Mom," I joked before I cut a piece of my omlet with my fork and scooped it into my mouth. It was as good as it smelled and I felt all warm inside.

"Good?" Trace inquired and I nodded my approval. We ate in silence before finishing up and clearing the table. Trace did the dishes and I thanked him before I jogged upstairs and up the hall. My stomach filled with nervous butterflies as I heard some shifting in the guest room up the hall. I walked up closer to the room and tried to regain my composure. I could see the door was cracked open a bit as I inched up closer. I knocked lightly and she gave me permission to come in.

I almost broke my neck turning away as Teresa pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her topless. I faced the wall and stomped my foot down angrily.

"Teresa, if you were changing you should've said something." I rolled my eyes to the heavens and she snorted.

"You've seen me naked before," she said nonchalantly, "I didn't know it was a big deal."

"What if I were Trace?" I inquired, "You didn't even bother asking who it was."

"Because Trace hates me and would've snuck in and killed me instead of knocked," she explained calmly, "And you can turn around now."

"Are you decent?" I inquired wearily as I turned slowly.

"Yes, I'm decent." I turned and she was pulling a shirt over her bra covered top and I sighed a breath of relief.

"Look, I just... I wanted to apologize for Trace," I said, "He's just looking out for me, ya know?" Teresa looked down at her hands and nodded.

"I guess if I were your best friend, I'd be the same way toward me," she confessed, "What I did was in the category of whores."

"You're not a whore," I reassured, "I don't even know why he talks like that. I've never said anything bad about you." She smiled softly.

"You're too nice, that's why," she told me, "You were thinking it though."

I shook my head. "No...never." And I realized it was true. As dirty as she was with me, I never thought to call her a whore. I was mostly disappointed that she wouldn't step up to the plate and be the woman I knew she could be. The woman for me. The strong woman who thought better of herself.

"Right..." she said disbelievingly, "But thanks for the apology and I'm sorry for even trying to argue back with him. I should know better by now. It's just a losing battle that upsets you and I don't want to cause anymore damage then I already have." I just nodded, unable to formulate words before backing up towards the door again.

"Okay, I'm gonna be in the gym, so... If you need me just...ya know." She nodded and I stepped out her door, pulling it closed behind me. My hand rested on the knob as I paused and stared at the floor. I felt that familiar tugging at my heart and I closed my eyes as my love for her flowed deeper into me. I realized that I didn't want her to move out as quickly as possible. I didn't want her sleeping in this room across the hall. I didn't want to walk into a room with her half naked and have to turn away instead of reaching out and touching her...

"Yo, Jay," Trace's voiced blared as he appeared at the top of the stairs. "Wanna play some ball?" My hands dropped from the knob and I bit my tongue, unable to tell Trace what I had started to feel. He would've dragged Teresa out kicking and screaming if he knew I was having second thoughts.

"Sure, man," I smiled, "Lets get that ass of yours whipped." He laughed sarcastically.

"We'll see about that," he snorted and I frowned.

Yeah, we'll see about that...