“Where are the rest of the chips?  This bag is done,” Mike stood up from the couch in my family room.  He had stopped by earlier, unannounced as usual, to hang out, eat some junk and watch the game.  He knew his way around my house almost as well as I did by now, so I didn’t bother offering to get it for him.

“In the pantry, behind the napkins, I think,” I said absentmindedly.  Dave, my fiancé, and I were both busy studying for upcoming exams, and were sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by papers and books.

“You want anything?” Mike asked over his shoulder, already on his way.

“Another Coke, please,” I answered before returning to my studies.  Just as I fell back into the rhythm of highlighting my notes, Dave nudged me with his elbow.

“He didn’t ask me if I wanted anything,” he hissed into my ear.  “I’m sick of him being so fucking rude!”

Shaking my head, I tried to calm him down without removing my focus from my work.  “He asked us in general, honey.  He didn’t say ‘Tara, do you want anything’?  You need to cut him some slack,” I said for about the millionth time.

If you’ve read this far, you’ve got to be wondering how Mike ended up hanging out at my house.  And you’ve really got to be wondering why I was defending him to my fiancé.  You must be wondering a lot, considering how things ended with Justin.  It’s all a little complicated, I guess.

I really did leave Justin that day and I didn’t look back.  Not literally, of course—I couldn’t help but hear about what he was up to on television or read something when I flipped through a magazine.  He was everywhere, like I said before.  But I avoided the subject of him as much as I could, which wasn’t much since my two best friends were buddy buddy with the whole gang now.  Oh, and Mike.  Mike was really upset when I finally left.  He called me shortly after to see if I was okay.

At first I was pretty nasty to him, thinking he was just checking up on me for Justin, but after awhile I started to trust him again.  We still argued quite a bit, but it was always about him looking out for me.  He had appointed himself my official caretaker, and was positive that he knew what was best for me—meaning not Dave.

Mike still hung onto the idea that Justin and I had just misunderstood each other.  He kept quiet about it for the most part, but every so often he’d sit me down and talk seriously about how I didn’t understand what had really been going on.  I understood more than enough, as far as I was concerned.  Justin had lied to me and mislead me about his relationship with that twit Britney, and everyone knew about it.  To me, there wasn’t anything more to know.

It’d been about two years since I last saw Justin in person, and I’d moved on in every way possible since then.  Of course, I spent some time moping and feeling sorry for myself.  But I didn’t wallow—I enrolled into a graduate program for Literature and after a month or so I let Dave talk me into going out a few times.  I made sure I wasn’t heading into a rebound relationship, despite what Sasha, Jen and Mike thought; Dave was everything that I’d ever wanted.  He was sort of conservative, but so was I.  We had the same goals and ideals, and he was there for me in every way I needed.  Life was passing me by.  I couldn’t sit around the house with Sasha forever, shopping and sleepwalking through life.

Yes, I know I wasn’t doing that when I was with Justin, but everything was fake with him.  Nothing was real, no matter how many times he said it was.  I needed something solid and tangible, and holding a CD in my hand didn’t cut it.

So I’m getting married, and I’m really happy about it.  No one else seems to be, even though Jen tries to pretend she is, but I don’t care.  I’m happy and that’s all that matters.  Justin doesn’t seem to be miserable, either, the prick.  If only everyone would get along with Dave, life would be great!  Before I started dating him, Sash and Jen loved him as much as I did.  Now everyone is possessive and bitchy, and they can’t even be in the same room.  Life isn’t perfect, as usual.

Dave slammed the book he was reading shut.  “I shouldn’t have to cut him slack!  I’m your man, and I don’t like him.  You put all the shit with that guy behind you, why is he still hanging around?”

I was beyond sick of repeatedly having this tired argument.  “Look, he’s my friend.  This doesn’t have anything to do with Justin, so stop bringing his name up all the fucking time!”  He was always so worried about me thinking about Justin when the real reason I couldn’t forget him was because Dave talked about him all the time!  Every time Mike came over, we had this same discussion.  I didn’t feel like placating him today.  I really didn’t feel like being bothered, to be honest.

This was good, since Dave stood up and announced that he was leaving.  “I’ll call you later,” he snapped, and then stalked out.  Unperturbed, I went back to my reading and highlighting, forgetting Mike was even there.

“Is he gone for good yet?” he ambled back in with my soda and his snacks, not a care in the world.  Mike seemed to live for visiting me, just so he could piss Dave off. I reached up and took my soda from him, rolling my eyes as I ignored him.  Today was not the day for playing around, I had PMS or something.  I turned my attention back to my work when Mike got my attention.  “Look, I got something to tell you ... I waited until he was gone.”

“What?”

“I have some news for you,” he set down his snacks and turned off the television.  Did he think I was an idiot?

“No, Mike.  No.  Don’t even try it,” I said firmly, setting my books down and jumping up.  “I don’t want to hear it.  I don’t want to talk about him, okay?”  This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to talk about or put on something ‘NSync related, but usually he was a little slicker about it.  I was disappointed that he was so transparent.

“Tara, for real, you’re gonna hear this.”  I wanted to cover my ears with my hands, but I was trying to act like an adult here.  That didn’t stop me from throwing one of my books in his direction, though.  He ducked, but hey, I tried.   Mike gloated.  “You need to at least hear this.  Do what you want with the info,” he held his hands up in the air.

Oh for crying out loud.  “Fine.  What?”

He leaned forward over the table.  “Justin dumped Britney.”  He waited eagerly for my reaction, which was ... nothing.

Really.  I’m exposing all of my embarrassing moments here, what’s one more?  I’d certainly add another one to the pile, but this isn’t one of them.  Maybe I’d conditioned myself to not feel anything when it came to Justin and his girlfriend—God knows I had to deal with seeing them plastered over every magazine and entertainment channel.  It was probably a defense mechanism, to keep myself from buying a gun and blowing her plastic chest off.  Not that I cared.  I just sort of absorbed the information Mike had just relayed and didn’t feel a thing, except maybe a tiny bit of satisfaction that he dumped her, although I should’ve felt sorry for her, too.

“And?” Mike looked so disappointed at my lack of joy that I almost felt bad.  “What do you want me to do?”

He shook his head and leaned back onto the couch.  “Nothing,” he muttered.  “You guys are so damn stupid ... I give up.”  He sounded totally disgusted, but what did he expect me to do?

“Mike, I appreciate you trying to give me the news.  I do.  But Justin is in the past.  See my ring?”  I waved my hand around.  “I’m getting married.  It’s over, whether he’s still with that Barbie wannabe or not.”  He didn’t like what I said, but he didn’t protest and instead turned the TV back on.  I pretended like the moment never happened, and actually forgot about it all...

Until the next day, when Sasha stopped by.  Dear old Mike called her today and filled her in on what happened and she just had to stop by and see if I was okay.

As much as Sasha didn’t care for Justin, she now liked Dave even less, so she was all for us getting back together.  Dave had changed from the easygoing guy he had been, in her eyes.  She thought he was trying to control me and isolate me from my friends.  In all fairness, he was worried about how Sasha and Jen still kept in touch with JC and the others, and he didn’t want me to have any reminders of what had gone on.  He was looking out for me because he knew how hurt I’d been.  Sasha thought this was all bullshit, and kept saying I was settling for someone I didn’t really love.  Her outlook was that she couldn’t stand in the way of fate, despite her personal views about Justin—she and Mike swore that we were meant to be.  If you know her, then you know that was a big deal for her.

“Mike told me about your man dumping that *&#!,” she used an expletive that I refuse to repeat.  I moved her legs off of the table she had propped them on, since my papers were also sitting there and closed my eyes, praying for patience.

“He’s not my man.  He hasn’t been for a long time.  Why do you guys keep talking about him to me?” I wailed to no one in particular, since Sasha wasn’t listening to me.

“Don’t try to pull that act on me.  Mike said you didn’t care, but I know you better.  You still love him, or else you wouldn’t talk to him.”  Why had I ever told her about that?

I know I said I hadn’t seen Justin in almost two years, and that’s true, but I have talked to him some.  Maybe six months after I left, he started calling again at odd times.  Coincidentally, it was around the time that I finally accepted that Mike was going to a part of my life whether I wanted him to be or not.  I tend to think he told Justin that I had calmed down or something, because I know he wouldn’t call on his own—I was too hurt and angry.  I didn’t think I’d ever talk to him again and I was fine with that.  And then one night he called, drunk and sad, and for some reason I didn’t have the heart to hang up on him.

Dave and I had fallen asleep in the family room, and the phone started ringing around 3 AM.  I snatched it up; worried that something awful had happened to one of my friends.

“T...” It was Justin, whispering.

Even in my half-asleep state, I recognized his voice right away.  “Justin?” I whispered back.  To my own disgust, my heart began pounding in my chest, and I scooted away from Dave to seek some privacy.  “What’re you doing?  Are you drunk?”  It hadn’t been that long, but I’d always know how he was feeling by how he sounded.  I just always know.

“Yeah.  I’m so fucking drunk, T.  And you know what?  I still know your fucking number, and I don’t even know where the fuck I am.  Can you believe that shit?”

So I was right.  And since the drunker he is the worse he curses, he seemed to be pretty loaded.

“Why are you calling me, Justin?  I want you to leave me alone!  I can’t talk right now anyway.  I have to go.”  But I didn’t hang up the phone like I should have, because I knew he would just keep calling and I didn’t want Dave to know anything about it.

“Shh ... Tara, I gotta tell you something.  I know you’re mad, but ... what, you got a man there?  That punk Dave? Is that why you can’t talk?”

Mike, bless his heart, has the world’s biggest mouth.  “It’s none of your business,” I whispered as I walked upstairs to my bedroom, “but yeah, Dave is here.  And he’s not a punk!  How do you figure you can call somebody a punk after what you did to me?”  Not even five minutes into the conversation and I was beginning to explain my actions.  How easily I fall back into old habits.

“That bitch, that guy who used to always hang around you?  What, are you guys fucking now?  He’s your man now?  I can’t believe you’d fuck with somebody like that, T.  A punk ass bitch like him?  You deserve a real man—“

I cut him off.  “I’m not listening to this shit, J.  Don’t call me ag—“

“No!  Wait!  I’m sorry.  Tara?  I’m sorry.  Seriously.  I’m drunk; I didn’t call to start shit with you.  I’m just drunk, and I wanted to hear your voice.  I wanted to tell you something.  Don’t be mad, don’t hang up,” he pleaded.  As angry as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to hang up.  He wouldn’t just call me out of the blue and start ranting about me seeing someone after all this time.  He really sounded sad, and God help me but I loved hearing one of his jealous tirades again.  No one was ever so possessive of me as Justin.  I was his, all his, all the time.  So I sat there instead, sighing loudly to let him know that I was annoyed, but still there.

“I ... I was thinkin’ about you today.  Well, not today, all the time.  I think about you all the time, Tara.  I miss you so fuckin’ much.  And I know you’re sitting there rolling your eyes, thinkin’ I’m full of shit, but it’s true.  Yeah, I know Britney’s around, but she ain’t you.  She’s not the same, we don’t talk and have fun and shit like you and me did.  We had fun, didn’t we, T?” his voice had a plaintive quality, a longing that I recognized all too well.  And I didn’t want to go back there.

“J, stop,” I winced when I realized that I’d automatically slipped back into our old nicknames.  “Don’t ... I don’t want to do this.  Please.” I’d spent all these months getting over him, and it was all going to shit in one phone conversation.

“I can’t, baby.  I been thinkin’ about all kinds of stuff that we did.  Remember that time, when I first came to visit you?  Remember?  When we had cheesecake and bought clothes and you got high that time, and gave me a lap dance?”

I was silent.  I remembered it all.

“Tara!  You there?”

“Yes!” I said loudly, and then whispered again.  “Yes, I’m here.”

“I remember that, baby, and then I was thinking about when we fought that night.  At the club, when I met Sasha and those guys.  You didn’t really like him then, did you?  You weren’t just fucking with my head, right?  Because I was jealous as shit, baby.  I saw you talking to them and you know how I am, I got pissed and I didn’t want anybody knowing you better than I do.  Do you know what I’m talking about?”

“Justin...” I wanted to scream at him to stop, but it felt so good to hear that he remembered it all, too.  At least I wasn’t the only one who thought about our fast and strange connection, how intense and urgent it was...

But he wouldn’t stop.  “I know you do.  I can tell, Tara, I always know what you’re thinking.  Like, you know me.  You always know what’s wrong with me and what I’m thinking.  You even fucking knew if I was starting to lie to you, remember?  And even when I made you mad as hell, even when you were ready to tell me to fuck off, you always took me back.  Remember when we fought that first time?  I keep thinking about that whole weekend, baby.  Remember what I called you?”

He was killing me.  How did he know all of this as drunk as he was?

“Remember?  T ... Tara?  Remember that?”

“Yes.  I remember.”

“That’s right, my princess.  I didn’t treat you like one all the time, baby, and I’m sorry.  I was always trying to treat you good but I fucked up.  It’s my fault.  I was stupid and a kid and trying to be slick.  But, you know, I got what I deserve, right, because you know me.  You know I don’t fucking love Britney like I love you.  Right?  I’m just stuck in a moment I can’t fucking get out of, T.  And I miss you so fucking much; I’d do anything to get you back.  You want me to tell Entertainment Tonight?  I will.  I swear.  Tara?  You there?”

Is it possible to feel your heart breaking?  I thought he’d already cracked mine, but it seemed there was still some left to rip apart.  “I’m here, J.  I ... you don’t have to do anything for me.  I can’t ... we’re not together anymore, Justin.  Remember that?  We’re with other people now.”

He wouldn’t listen to me; he was in his own world.  “No, listen.  I wrote something.  Will you listen?  I wrote you another song, it’s so much better than that other fucking song.  I love you, baby.  You’re gonna listen to me sing, right?  It’s your song.  Okay?”

I cradled the phone between my neck and shoulder so I could cover my face with my hands.  Maybe it would hold back my tears.  “Okay, Justin.  I’m listening.”

“Okay ... here.  Listen:

There’s a thousand words that I could say to make you come home
Seems so long ago you walked away and left me alone
And I remember what you said to me, you were acting so strange
And maybe I was too blind to see that you needed a change
Was it something I said to make you turn away
To make you walk out and leave me cold?
If I could just find a way to make it so that you were right here, right now

I’ve been sitting here
Can’t get you off my mind
I’m trying my best to be a man and be strong
I drove myself insane wishing I could touch your face
But the truth remains, you’re
Gone
You’re gone
Baby, you’re gone
Girl you’re gone
Baby girl, you’re gone
You’re gone
You’re...

Now I don’t wanna make excuses, baby
Won’t change the fact that you’re gone
But if there’s something that I could do, won’t you please let me know?
The time is passing so slowly now, guess that’s my life without you
And maybe I could change my everyday, but baby I don’t want to
So I’ll just hang around and find some things to do
To take my mind off missing you
And I know in my heart, you can’t say that you don’t love me too
Please say you do

What will I do if I can’t be with you?
Tell me where will I turn to, baby who will I be?
Now that we are apart, am I still in your heart?
Baby, why don’t you see that I need you here with me?

But the truth remains, you’re...”

I sat there, spellbound, not realizing how much I’d missed hearing him sing.  When we were together, he walked around singing all the time.  He’d sing me awake; sing me to sleep, the most beautiful ballads sung so sweetly.  Even now, with his voice hoarse from smoking and drinking, I loved the sound.  And the words ... the words written just for me ... why did he have to go and fuck everything up, when we were so happy?  We were together and life was perfect until I realized he’d been lying to me all along.  He was the man I expected to marry, to be with forever ... and he fucked it all up.

The song ripped my heart out of my chest.  It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard, sung in his drunken state.  But it was too late.

So I told him.  “Justin ... I’m ... Look, I love the song.  But I need to tell you something, too.  I’m engaged.  Dave and I are getting married.”

This time he was silent.  Then he said quietly, “You’re marrying somebody else?”

In my daydreams, when I told him this, I gloated over his pain and misery.  So how come I felt like crying?  “Yeah.  I am.”

“T.  Why?  Wh—“ his voice cracked and he stopped talking.  I could hear him breathing heavily through the phone.  We both sounded like we’d just run a race or something ... maybe there were tears on his cheeks, too.

“Because, Justin! You ruined it all ... you did this.  You made me find someone else, I didn’t want to!  Now I got my shit together and I finally have a life!  Don’t ... don’t turn this into something bad for me!”  Explaining myself to him was the last thing I wanted to do, but I couldn’t stop myself.  It was like ... he owned part of me, and therefore deserved a reason for me being with someone else.

His voice was heated now.  “I told you I fucked up, I admitted it!  But I didn’t go and fucking marry Brit ... I wouldn’t do that.”

‘That was your decision, J.  I made mine.”  I had to stop letting his reactions control me.

“That’s your decision, then?  You’re so fucking sure?” He had gone from sad to mad to cool as ice.

“Yes!  That’s what I want, okay?”

“Okay.  One thing, though.  No, a couple of things.  Tell me something, Tara.  Will you just answer something, and then I’ll let you go?”

If I didn’t get off the phone soon, I was going to lose my resolve, and I couldn’t do that.  Holding up my hand, I gazed at the ring Dave had given me.  “Fine.  Go ahead.”

“Are you really, truly happy?  Can he make you as happy as I do?  Can he love you like I love you?  Does he make you feel like you’re the only person in the room?  When he touches you, does your skin get all hot like it does underneath my hands?  When he kisses your neck, do you go all soft in his arms, Tara?  Oh, and this is the most important question, baby.  Think about it, ‘cause this one, you gotta have this one.  Does he make you feel like you’re his princess?  Because that’s what you deserve.  Never accept anything less, remember?”

All of the questions shook me, and I was dumbfounded.  It didn’t matter, because he listened to me sitting there speechless, and he knew.  He knew that I couldn’t say that Dave did any of those things for me.  And then he hung up, because he didn’t need to hear my answer.

“Tara?  Hello, Tara?” Sasha waved a hand in front of my face.  “Where’d your mind go off to?”

Dazed, I looked around, confused.  “Nowhere.  I was thinking about something...”

“I bet.” she folded her legs underneath her on the couch.  “I know where your mind was, but whatever.”

I didn’t need this on top of everything else.  “Look, would you stop it?!  I am not thinking about him, I am not in love with him, and I don’t give a fuck what he does!  When will you accept that and leave me alone?”

I had walked right into her trap, and Sasha pounced.  “Well ... since you don’t care, why don’t you come see the last show on their Celebrity tour with me and Jen? For old times’ sake?  I mean, since it’s not a problem.”  She raised an eyebrow at me expectantly.

I’d been tricked. I wouldn’t be surprised if those jackasses planned everything, down to Sasha challenging me to come to this freaking concert since I didn’t care.

Well, I wasn’t falling into their trap - I really didn’t care. The only reason I even agreed to go was because if I didn’t, I’d never hear the end of them ranting about me hiding or some shit.

Dave, however, wouldn’t see it that way - so I lied to him. He wasn’t happy about it but he accepted me going to Florida to hang out with my girls for one last fun weekend before my graduation. That part was true. But Dave thought we were going to Miami, when we were really staying in the Orlando area. To be honest, I was glad to get a break from him. He meant well; he was really sweet and tried to make me happy, but he kept harping on me being friends with Mike and complaining that Sasha and Jen weren’t a good influence on me anymore. I knew he was just jealous, but I didn’t like having to defend my friends to anyone. So a little time apart was exactly what I needed.

The plan was for the three of us to attend ‘NSync’s last show on the Celebrity tour. I didn’t know until we were on our way to our hotel that the group was taking a hiatus after this tour ended. Jen told me that Justin had a solo album deal, and was going to be recording all summer. This news hit me like a ton of bricks, for a couple of reasons: one, because I knew Justin had dreamed about doing his own stuff for a long time, and I was ecstatic that he’d gotten a deal; and two, it made me sad because, no matter what had happened, I wished I had been there to see the look on his face when he heard the news. I knew he was probably walking on air right now, and I wanted to enjoy it with him. I didn’t wish any bad luck on him at all... sometimes I wished I did hate him; it would make things so much easier.

Hate was not a word I could use to describe what I feel for him. It might be a word that described what I was currently feeling for Sasha and Jen, who were trying to squeeze me into a skirt that looked more like a Band-Aid.

“I’m not wearing this, y’all. My stomach is hanging out, and I look obese.” They’d whipped out a cute peasant blouse with loose, flowy sleeves that was really cute, although sort of low-cut, but I could deal with that. Dave didn’t go for the hootchie look so much, so I didn’t mind wearing something a little fun for a change, but this skirt was maybe too much for me.

“I think it looks cute,” Jen told me, standing back and looking me over. “Your stomach is fine, and you aren’t even close to fat. You’re overreacting.” Easy for her to say, she was the skinniest person on earth, with the perfect chest and butt. She didn’t have an inch of flab on her body that I could see.

Sasha saw me rolling my eyes and chimed in. “It’s not like you’re nervous or anything, is it? Because I know you’re not worried about looking good for any particular person, right? Right, Tara?” She was over at the mini-bar mixing up some concoction for us to ‘take the edge off.

“Shut up, Sasha. Everyone there will see my ass hanging out, not just one person.” She was so obnoxious sometimes, I wasn’t sure even I understood why I continued to deal with her. Of course, she said something incredibly sweet right after that, making me feel bad for what I was thinking.

“You look amazing, honey. I was just teasing you. You never get to dress up and be shitty anymore, let’s just have some fun okay?” She handed me a purple-ish drink and kissed me on the cheek. Liquid courage! I raised my glass to her and Jen and knocked it back, then almost fell over.

“What the hell was in that?” I felt like I’d swallowed fire, there was a burning path in my chest where the alcohol had gone - I say alcohol because it’s clear that that was all Sasha had put into the cup.

“Stuff... I dunno. It got your mind off of being nervous, didn’t it?” she replied innocently. Bitch.

It did work, though. And after another one, I was actually looking forward to the concert. Not nervous at all. I was ready to part-ay.

When we arrived at the venue, Jen called Mike from the car, asking him where we should meet him to get our tickets. That’s what I thought, at least, but turns out we were going backstage. You’d think, at this point, that I wouldn’t be so clueless and would’ve guess that, but no. Tequila was flowing through my bloodstream and I was chilling in the rental car thinking about how good Justin was going to look, and hoping they’d sing my favorite song that everyone else I knew hated, including them. “I Want You Back” was my jam, mostly because Justin did this little dance thing where he shimmied down to his knees that I loved. Whenever he’d half step on it, I’d get pissed. I wondered if he knew I was coming, and would he remember to do my dance step? My little walk down memory lane was interrupted by Jen, who shook my arm. “C’mon, Tar ... we’re late already.”

If I thought I was drunk before, I knew I was completely gone when I stood up outside of the car. My head was in the clouds and I was giddy with excitement at seeing Justin, Joey and everyone. Hey, I was even looking forward to snapping on Chris! I linked arms with Sasha and Jen and practically ran to the entrance near Will Call, where Mike wanted us to meet him. On the way there, I had a rude reminder of what life with ‘NSync was like: a few fans, not many, but a few clearly recognized Sasha and me from our previous travels around with Justin. It was like stepping back in time; the whispering and looks, the flashbulbs going off because some psychos wanted pictures of their favorite’s girlfriends, and the younger girls here and there who looked like they were about to approach you and ask you a dumb question. This is where Sasha really came in handy — her bad attitude and evil demeanor kept everyone at a safe distance, something I was grateful for.

“I can’t believe they remember me,” I whispered, tugging my skirt down. Jen hit my hands away “Stop! Don’t look like you’re uncomfortable, you look fine. Mike’11 be here in a second, just be calm.”

I leaned against the wall, smiling brightly. “I am calm,” I told her. “I can’t wait to see everyone ... do they know I’m here?” What I really meant was does he know I’m here?

”No,” Sasha answered. “It’s a surprise. So be nice. Don’t act like you’re married to that creep already. Why don’t you take off your ring?” She reached for my hand and I snatched it away.

“He’s not a creep, and I’m not taking off my ring ... I like it. Isn’t it pretty?” I held it up to admire the sparkly diamond in the light. Sasha shook her head and made a face at Jen.

“Yeah, Tara, it’s pretty.” Jen tried so hard to be nice, ever the peacemaker, but I knew she didn’t want me marrying Dave anymore than Sasha. Their vehement disapproval was the one thing that made me question if I was doing the right thing after all... that and the sick yet wonderful feeling in the pit of my stomach that came from knowing Justin was only a few minutes away. What would seeing him after so long be like? I almost wanted to run and hail a cab, go to the airport and back to Dave’s safe, comfortable side.

Like he’d read my thoughts, Mike appeared out of nowhere in his tour shirt, beaming. “Am I seeing things right? Are you really here? Did someone die?” He engulfed me in a huge hug, picking me up off my feet.

All my fear forgotten, I laughed. “I just saw you like two weeks ago, Mike!” But I was glad to see him; I knew nothing bad would happen to me with him around. Funny how awful I thought he was before — now he was almost closer to me than my girls.

“This is gonna be fun,” he grinned, putting me down and hugging Sasha. We moved aside as he went over to Jen, who he still adored above everyone. They were very friendly too, but she wasn’t interested at all. That didn’t stop Mike, who pursued her every chance she got — providing me and Sasha with lots of opportunities to make fun other increasingly creative ways to escape him. They hugged and he whispered something to her, then he led us backstage through the back of the ticket area.

The closer we got backstage, the more nervous I got. I hoped he wouldn’t act weird, or be mean. I don’t know why I thought he’d be mean; Justin had never been rude to me, ever. We argued a lot, and had our differences, but he never treated me with anything but respect. Still, I wasn’t sure how he’d react. Or how I’d react.

Mike handed us our ‘Friends & Family’ passes that allowed us to go virtually anywhere, and I was surprised that someone had put us on that list. I assumed we’d be backstage with maybe VIP passes, which let us hang out but not go into the guys’ private areas - these passes meant one of the group members knew we were coming. “Who approved these passes?” I asked Mike as we walked through the last checkpoint and headed into the deep backstage area.

“Joey,” he told me. “JC was gonna do it, but I couldn’t get to him in time. Don’t worry,” he put his arm around me, “Justin doesn’t know. And even if he did, he wouldn’t be mad.”

How did Mike learn to read my mind, too? Although I guess it wouldn’t be hard to figure out what I was wonted about if you had half a brain. Speaking of half a brain, I walked backstage and lost all of my common sense when I saw everyone. It’d been so long since I’d seen them even on television, so it was kind of a big scene.

JC and Chris were standing in the hallway talking, and then Chris spotted me. He stopped talking right away and looked me up and down slowly, like I was a mirage. He blinked a couple of times. “Is that... JC, am I on crack? Is that the Tara Wallace, the girl who disappeared a few years ago?” Some people will never change. And you don’t want them to, either.

I shook my head at him, unable to stop the huge smile spreading across my face. “Chris Kirkpatrick ... I thought you’d be wheeling around a nursing home by now,” I said sadly. We eyed each other for a minute, then walked over and hugged each other tightly. Chris and I had started off as enemies, much to Justin’s dismay, but once I got used to his sarcasm, we were great friends.

“Where’s my sugar, girl?” JC separated us and I hugged him as well. He was skinny as a rail, but still adorable. Sasha and he were ... well, they had become friends with benefits, as they say, and I knew way too much about him these days. We even talked occasionally when I was around Sash and they called each other. They were shocked to see me, but it was okay — it was nice that they were glad to see me. I got all caught up in talking with them, telling them I was in graduate school and due to graduate in another month.

“What’s that?” JC pointed at my left hand, and Chris pretended to cover his eyes.

“I’m blind! How big is that fucking rock?”

”I told you she was engaged,” Sasha jumped in, looking at JC. “I told you almost a year ago!”

He looked confused. “I thought since she was here, you know, maybe it was ... never mind,” he decided not to finish that thought. “Congratulations, girl!” he kissed me on the cheek.

“Yeah,” Chris added, though he looked at me suspiciously. “I had no idea. Who’s the lucky guy?” I almost wished that he or JC would just come out and ask me if Justin knew — it was obvious that he hadn’t repeated our conversation to anyone. But knowing Justin, I wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t told anyone.

“It’s-" and there he was, right in front of me all of a sudden. My God, his hair was gone - like, all gone. No more of my golden brown curls ... his head was cropped closely and dark. There was stubble on his face, a tiny growth of beard that made him look not so young, and ... Had he been working out? His chest and arms seemed to have doubled in size, with muscles bulging from everywhere. I swallowed hard. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so easy.

“Hi,” he said calmly, smiling a little. He wasn’t a boy anymore. He was all man. God. And this man’s eyes were checking me out thoroughly, bringing back a rush of memories that I’d suppressed for so long.

“Hey, Justin!” Thank God for alcohol. It, and my survival instincts kicked in, and I sounded like I didn’t have a care in the world. “How are you?” I tilted my head and smiled back, hoping I didn’t look as affected as I felt by his unyielding gaze. He made me feel naked, just like before.

“Good,” he nodded his head. “You look great, T.” He walked over and opened his arms, and we hugged for just a second. You know the kind; quick embrace, a few pats on the back. As much as I want to pretend differently, I wanted to hold onto him like a life preserver. But I let go.

“Thanks, you too,” I said, looking away. His eyes were so intense, and he was so calm and quiet — the Justin I knew would be all over the place, humming with nervous energy before a show. Oh, there was energy there, but he had it under control, like a fighter before a fight or something. Wow.

Saving the day as always, Jen thrust a drink in front of me. “Here, I got you something,” she broke the spell that Justin and I were both under, and I accepted it gratefully, draining it. He stepped back and was still looking at me. I knew he was wondering if I was already wasted, and after a second or so of watching me he just kind of blended into the background. Lance had wandered over and we started catching up while the others stood around us talking, too. Mike, Todd, and Dre even joined in for a while. Another drink was given to me, and I got lost in the excitement that surrounded one of their shows, laughing and joking with the group when a pair of hands covered my eyes.

“Guess who?”

“JOEY!” I lost it. Joey and I had been running partners for a while back during the No Strings Attached tour, and he was probably the person I missed the most. Always in a good mood, ready to party and just have a good time, Joey and I had spent tons of time on dance floors all over the place, goofing off. His love of women was legendary, and he and I had even spent evenings picking out which would be the best girl for him to try and hook up with. He was the one I’d known the best, and I really missed him.

“Where the hell have you been, girl?” He picked me up and spun me around, making me spill my drink all over the place.

“Stop!” I squealed, laughing hysterically. “Put me down!”

He complied, but kept an arm around me. “You look amazing, Tara ... what kinda drugs have you been taking? You’re glowing. And that body,” he growled at me, and we slipped right back into our usual banter. One of our jokes had been how he was going to steal me away from Justin, and he picked that up again, leaving Justin’s name out this time. I preened under his attention, loving being back around these crazy guys and being silly. I stole Jen’s drink and continued flirting with Joey when I felt Justin’s eyes.

Trying not to look obvious, I glanced around the room until I found him. He was sitting over on the far side of the room, with headphones on, listening to a Discman. And staring at me so hard that it felt like his eyes were boring a hole into me, and I felt hot all over. I kept looking away, but he didn’t divert his gaze, just watched me standing with Joey’s arm around me. Was he jealous? Of Joey and me? He knew there was nothing going on there ... he knew I was getting married ... he was just surprised, that’s all. Really, that had to be it... besides that one time where he’d poured his heart out to me we had never talked about us being together again.

The few phone calls we had consisted of us catching up on mindless stuff, and even then we never got really deep. It was over. Still, this went on for at least another ten minutes—Justin watching me and me pretending not to care. I knew he was mad, and I was angry with myself for noticing or even caring what he thought after all this time.

Finally it was time for us to go to our seats, and I had never been more keyed up and jittery in my life. I had been excited about the show before, but after seeing Justin and his new look, I was practically foaming at the mouth to see the show. We waved goodbye to everyone, including a brooding Justin in the corner, and walked out. Mike told us he thought we should stay by him - he was standing near the catwalk, since the guys would be running up and down it all night, so we ended up standing between some barricades between the seats and the stage. I could see everything, I was feeling no pain thanks to the drinks backstage, and I was hanging with my buddy. This was going to be great.

And it was. From the second the guys came onstage, he mesmerized me. I looked at the others, slapped five with Joey and Lance, stuck my tongue out at Chris and hollered at JC’s pelvic thrusts, but mostly I watched him. I couldn’t get over the changes in him! True, I had avoided watching the group, but I didn’t realize that I’d missed so much. I mean, I thought I knew what he still looked like, for God’s sake. He danced better than ever, he sang every song perfectly, and his body ... I think my mouth was hanging open, because Mike elbowed me during a slow song.

“You missed him, didn’t you?” Annoyed, I elbowed him back, hard, and kept watching the stage. There wasn’t really anyone else in that place but him as far as I was concerned, but I tried hard to at least look like I was interested in the show as a whole. I was dancing around to a new song I’d never heard before, something about being a girlfriend, when Mike leaned over again.

“He’s looking at you.” This time I looked at Justin and he was looking at me, singing the song. I stopped dancing and tried to hear the words over the screaming.

“He don’t love your eyes, and he don’t love your smile ... are you sure that it’s real?”

Yeah. He was singing to me. Someone jumped in front of me, blocking his view, and Mike had to step over and get her back to her seat so I lost eye contact for a second. When I saw him again, he sang, “Would you be my girlfriend? I’ll treat you good ... I know you hear your friends when they say you should. ‘Cause if you were my girlfriend, I’d be your shining star... the one to show you where you are ... Girl you should be my girlfriend...”

My heart flip-flopped and I really, really, really needed another drink. Bad. Because all of a sudden, I couldn’t remember any good reasons why we’d ever broken up. The stuff with Britney and his record company or whatever didn’t seem bad enough to suffer through the rest of my life without him ... And then, with my resolve already wavering, he sang my song. The one he sang to me on the phone that night.

He came out and stood in the middle of the catwalk, singing his heart out to the sky. He didn’t look at me once, but I knew he was singing every word to me. I was riveted, glued to his every move until a guitar player came out and joined him on the catwalk, and then I leaned against Mike tiredly.

“You okay?” he asked, still scanning the crowd around Justin.

“No,” I whispered to no one. No one was paying attention to me anyway; Jen and Sasha were singing every word of the song along with Justin, jamming away with him. I needed to stay focused, just have fun seeing my old friends one last time, and go back home to Dave. This wasn’t real, I repeated to myself. This was just fun. I twisted my ring around my finger to remind myself of what was really important and spent the rest of the concert watching the other four guys. They were safe.

~*~
The big end of tour party was at Joey’s, and no one listened to my weak protests that I was tired and needed to go back to the hotel.

“You’re gonna be rude and just not go?” Jen asked me after she’d given the guard at his gated community our names.

“I don’t want to be rude,” I whined. “I’m just tired. I wanna go call Dave.” What I wanted wasn’t Dave, and I knew it. What I wanted was going to be right inside at Joey’s, and I was scared that I wasn’t strong enough to stay away from it - or him.

Inside, I was more than a little surprised to see that what I wanted didn’t necessarily want me. Everyone was there; Johnny and his wife, Steve, Janine, Kelly, JC’s friends from Maryland that I knew, Trace, even Howie from Backstreet — the place was packed. Drinks and beer were everywhere, and bass was pumping, making the walls and the floor shake. There was no point in trying to talk; no one could hear anything, so I sort of pointed at the bar to get Jen to come with me to get another drink. Sasha and JC had wandered off to dance, so Jen and I were checking the place out together. At the bar, Steve refused to give us anything until we did a shot of tequila first, then it turned into one more, then another, and thirty minutes later I was almost lying on the bar, blitzed out of my mind. Jen went out onto the dance floor with Steve and was dancing up a storm while I tried to compose myself. What was it about being near Justin and tequila that had me ending up wasted?

So there I was, squinting around the room in a vain attempt to keep it from swirling around in my head, when I saw him. “Get Your Freak On” was blaring, and he was in the center of the dance floor holding court. Surrounded by Trace and some other random people, he had his arm slung around this little blonde chick that could’ve been Britney’s twin. They were dancing sort of close, swaying back and forth together, with her holding onto his waist like she was drowning. If I thought I was sick before, this really proved it. I wanted to turn away, but I couldn’t — seeing him like that with another girl was like a slap in the face.

I’d caught glimpses of him with Britney when I least expected it — in the checkout line at the grocery store, or on MTV or some other TV show, but so far I’d only just seen a flash of them. And any time I’d spent around Justin had always been when we were seeing each other, so this was just... the worst. Knowing about him touching, dancing with and kissing other girls and actually seeing it are two different things. Seeing it made my stomach lurch. He had a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and was swigging from it like crazy, between singing out the lyrics loudly and smiling at that bitch that was grinding up on him. Every time he said anything, the girl giggled like he was Chris Tucker and I wanted to punch her in the face, I was so jealous. I had no right to be, but I was really hurt at the sight.

Suddenly I wasn’t feeling so great. The room was spinning faster and faster, and my stomach joined in with it. I knew I needed to lie down or else I’d end up hurling all over the place, so I turned away from Justin and his new conquest and headed for the stairs.

I should’ve never come here. This isn’t my life anymore. I don’t belong here. Making my way upstairs through the tons of people, I wandered down the hallway, leaning against the wall for support. Every room looked occupied, and I was about to just sit down on the floor and close my eyes when someone took my arm.

“Are you okay? You drank too much, didn’t you?” Justin was hovering over me, drunk but not as drunk as me. It was so typical that I felt dumb for being momentarily confused - he had looked completely into that girl and dancing, but he always kept an eye on the entire room whenever he was out. If we were at a party or somewhere, he always knew who I talked to and who talked to me no matter where I was. That boy was the nosiest person I’d ever met, I swear, but this time I was glad. I needed rescuing.

“I gotta lay down... the room’s spinning.”

He took my hand and walked me right over to a closed door. “C’mon, come in here.” We walked into a huge bedroom that could only be Joey’s. The room was fairly quiet and dark, with a little moonlight streaming in from the windows. “Why’d you drink tequila, baby? That always fucks you up,” Justin said, leading me to the bed. How did he know I had tequila? I wondered. I could feel the bass thumping, but the music was muffled in here. “Here, lay down ... stretch out.”

I fell face down onto the bed, praying I wouldn’t get sick. I needed to be still for a little while, just for a minute. His hand went to my back and rubbed slowly, something that always made me feel better. I sighed, turning my head to where he sat next to me.

“Where’s your friend?” I asked him bitterly. So much for playing it cool.

“What friend?” He knew damn well who I was talking about.

“Never mind.” Asshole. He chuckled to himself, and I hated myself for even bringing it up. I tried to change the subject.

”That feels good, J.”

He didn’t speak, just kept rubbing. I had thought he was drunk, but he wasn’t as gone as I had thought. Or maybe he just always knew how to pull himself together to take care of me. After a few minutes, his hand moved to my neck, then up into my hair to rub my scalp. He still remembered, I thought dreamily. I wanted to stay there forever.

“Your hair’s blonder,” he remarked. It was blonder; I’d gotten lighter highlights in big chunks a couple of months ago. I wondered if he liked it.

“Your hair’s ... gone. What happened?”

He laughed. “Just did something different. It’s grown in actually,” he ran his free hand over his head; “It was almost shaved before.”

We were silent again, neither of us feeling like we had to say anything. It was nice to sit in companionable silence, as opposed to the oppressive silence that Dave and I usually had.

“This the ring?” he took his hand away from my hair and picked up my hand, looking at the ring. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking by his tone or his face.

“Yeah,” was all I said. For the first time today, I didn’t want to show it off. I wanted to hide it. “So when’s the big day?” He dropped my hand abruptly and sat there, not touching me anymore.

I was so used to being able to read his body language that this threw me. “Umm, I don’t know yet... we haven’t decided on a date.”

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at me. “You got engaged like a year ago. Why aren’t you married yet?”

I didn’t know. “I don’t know.” Okay, I did know. Dave was pressing me on a daily basis to pick a day, but I wasn’t ready. Mike insisted it was because I didn’t want to marry him, but I thought it was just nerves. After I graduated, when things were calmer, I’d start planning. Really.

He sort of laughed to himself. “If we were engaged, I wouldn’t let a year go by. We’d set the date on the day I asked you.”

Again, I didn’t know how to answer him, so I shrugged. If he hadn’t cheated on me, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.

Then he surprised me. “You know, you never answered my question.”

“What question?” Was I that drunk, that I missed him asking me something?

He looked away from me. “You know what question. The one I asked you that night when you told me about him.”

Oh. That question. I sat up and started twisting my ring. “The night you hung up in my face? What was I supposed to say?” I couldn’t believe he remembered asking me that question, and was bringing it back up now. I had no idea what to say, so I stared at my hand.

I could feel him turn back to look at me, and I met his gaze. “You said you were marrying that punk ass ... yeah, I hung up.”

“You didn’t have to hang up on me!” Stay calm, Tara. No need to yell or get excited. It’s over, you’re just talking. That’s all.

He grabbed my hand again. “Why you twisting your ring around? Let me see it again,” he lifted it up and looked at it more closely. “It’s alright. Nothing special,”

Unconsciously, I leaned onto him. The room had stopped spinning, but it felt like it could start again at any second. Or shit, maybe I just wanted to lean on him. “Not everybody can bling like you, J.”

His arm slipped around me, stroking my neck. “Nope, they can’t. You did, though. Do you still have our necklace?” I shivered, his hands felt so good.

“The nameplate thing? Yeah. It’s at home, I still have it.” It was hidden away with my mom’s jewelry, where Dave wouldn’t see it and complain. I rarely pulled it out, but sometimes I’d look at it and remember when he gave it to me. It was hideous and gaudy, but I loved it.

“Can’t believe he let you keep it.”

I elbowed him. “He doesn’t tell me what I can keep. It’s mine, and I’m keeping it.”

“T, you’re marrying him. Why would you want it anyway?” He stopped stroking my neck and looked down at me, curled up against him. I glanced up, and we looked at each other. Something was going to happen, I knew it. And yet again, I was speechless, looking at him like a lost kid. I opened my mouth to answer him, not knowing what I was going to say, when the door opened. Joey walked in, hugging on some barely dressed girl. He stopped short when he saw Justin and I cuddled up together on his bed.

“Shit! I’m sorry, guys!” he winked and gave us the thumbs up sign, making me laugh into Justin’s chest. He started to back out. “Stay, stay. We’ll go somewhere else. Pick up where you left off.”

“No,” Justin said, stopping him before he shut the door. “Tara, you want to get out of here? Go someplace quiet?”

Before I thought about it, I said, “Yeah. That sounds good.” As soon as the words were spoken, I panicked. Alone? Were we leaving here? What was I thinking?

Dave would murder me if he knew about this. Murder me.

But when Justin stood and held out his hand, I got up and like always, took it. “C’mon.” We said goodbye to a grinning Joey and went downstairs. It was all so surreal, just like old times — Justin holding my hand, and me following wherever he wanted me to go. I missed this so much. We saw Eric on our way outside and Justin yelled something to him, never letting go of me. Eric nodded at us and we walked outside, ignoring the people who tried to talk to Justin every couple of steps.

He took me to a sort of metallic, pale blue convertible BMW and opened the door for me. Once inside, I settled into the leather seat and leaned back. I decided that I wasn’t going to think anymore, I was going to go with the flow and let whatever happened, happen. Being with him felt too good, too right, to ruin it with worrying about what Dave would think. At that moment, I didn’t give a fuck about Dave or anyone else except Justin.

He got in the other side and started the car, turning the volume on his stereo down to a tolerable level. We didn’t talk at all during the drive, except for him asking me if I was okay when he made a sharp turn. As he drove, I turned my head and drank him in, wanting to remember every second of this when it was over. He felt me looking and reached over, putting his hand on my leg.

We drove about twenty minutes until we reached the community where he lived — I was surprised that he lived in the same house that he had when we were dating. I don’t know why I thought he would’ve moved; I just didn’t think it would all be ... the same. He pulled into the gates of his house, parked and we walked up the familiar path, still holding hands.

“It feels weird to be walking in there again after two years, you know? Everything’s different.” My voice sounded loud on the quiet street.

“Not everything,” was his answer as he unlocked the door and let me in. It really was like going back in time. I didn’t think anything had changed inside the house, other than a few pictures here and there.  Video games were spread over the floor, old fast food bags crumpled up all around. Two years and things were exactly the same.

“You haven’t started cleaning up, I see,” I said nervously, walking around the room and examining everything. He said not everything had changed, what did that mean? Was he talking about how we felt about each other? Feeling more and more nervous, I started pulling and twisting my ring again.

He stood in the middle of the room, watching me prowl around. “Why do you still have that on?”

“What?” My clothes? What?

“That ring,” he gestured at my hand.

Here it goes. “Because I’m engaged. We talked about that already, remember?”

He shook his head. “No you’re not. If you were really into him you wouldn’t be here.” With every word, he took a step closer to me.

I kept moving - away from him. “I didn’t know where we were going,” I said defensively. Like it would’ve mattered.

“Pssh,” he dismissed my excuse, and kept moving towards me. “You still never answered my question.”

“Oh, umm ..." I backed up as he got closer, moving until I hit a wall. I wasn’t scared of him at all, but I was scared. He was getting too close, and although I thought that was what I wanted, maybe it wasn’t a good idea. He had a way of getting inside my head, and that wasn’t safe for either of us. But he kept moving until he was right in front of me, not even an inch away. Each of his hands came up on either side of me, trapping me against the wall. Looking down, I kept twisting my ring, reminding myself that this wasn’t real. It was just a vacation from life.

Then Justin put his face down next to mine. His lips were tantalizingly close, just a breath away from mine, and I couldn’t resist. Leaning forward, I went to kiss him, but he backed away.

Shaking his head slowly, he said, “Nothing can happen until you take that off, baby.”

What? Was he kidding? Isn’t this what he brought me here for? “Why are you obsessed with this fucking ring?” I practically yelled.

He stayed calm, talking to me in a low, soothing voice. “I’m not gonna fuck around with you when you’re wearing some other man’s ring, Tara. If you take it off, I’m not giving it back to you. I’ll give it back to him.”

I wanted to scream with frustration. “Dave doesn’t have anything to do with this!” Still tipsy, I had no idea what he was talking about - what was he blathering on about my ring for?

“You’re right, he don’t have shit to do with this. So take it off. I’ll give it back to him.” He brought his lips back down to mine again and I could feel his breath on my cheek. The heat from his body emanated from him, he felt like a furnace. Why wouldn’t he just kiss me? Just one kiss and I’d be okay. I could focus, I could think clearly.

“It’s not that easy, Justin ... it isn’t.”

“Sure it is. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. I know you want to kiss me, baby. Don’t you? I know I want to kiss you,” he licked his lips slowly, knowing my eyes followed every move his tongue made. Before I knew it, I was leaning forward again, but he pulled back.

“Shit!” I yelled again, so turned on that I knew my eyes were glazed over. “Are you trying to make me break up with Dave because you and Britney broke up? You want me back so you can cheat on me again?” The alcohol, coupled with his teasing was making me crazy.

He touched my cheek with his fingers. “I already admitted I was wrong. I begged for a second chance, I wrote you songs, I told you I’d do anything to get you back. And I will, I wasn’t lying to you. All you have to do is one thing. One thing and I promise you’ll never look back, baby.” I was drowning in those eyes that pleaded with me to just give in, let go.

He held out his hand. “It’s up to you. I’m not gonna push you anymore. If you want me, or you want us to have a chance at all, then you’ll do it. But you have to do it. I can’t do it for you, T.”

We stood there for what seemed like hours while I thought furiously. Was this worth it? Was giving up the nice, safe life I’d mad