I always regretted rolling my eyes at Doctor Burns. Whenever I did he always gave me that damn look. The look that reminded me of my mother. A mother that never had a real presense in my life, a mother that I had never known and was pretty sure that I hated. Needless to say, I was not to fond of the look Burns had seemed to master and often went out of my way to keep my therapist happy just to avoid the irritating gaze. More often than not, though, Burns could push me over the brink and straight to that inevetable eye roll. Now was a prime example. Wasn't it enough that I'd been visiting the man every day for seventeen years? Why was I still being questioned, dissected and anaylyzed by this man like I was the jusiest fucking worm in the room during a 9th grade biology dissection? I wish I could tell you, really I do, but I don't know any better than the next chap.

You'd think I'd be rewarded for caring about my grades and my schoolwork. It amazed me, to that very day, how people underestimated UNLV (University of Nevada Las Vegas) as a college. Yeah, so there's a strip club three blocks away in the same parking lot as a nursery, but do we all have to suffer because of that? Do we all have to carry the stigma of Las Vegas on our shoulders just because we were the unlucky saps who's parents decided to get busy at the Ceasars Palace on a crazy weekened? I'm going to go ahead and say no. Burns would probably say I'm being cynical, an emotion that's deeply rooted in the mental damage my mother did to me when I was a child. I wont even get into the endless list of defense mechanisms I've picked up since my mother ran out on me. I had aquired so many over the past several years I could easily write you a list around the block. Sarcasim was my specialty. If you were having a parade, I was ready to go with the rain, and I was ready with a smile.

I blame my mother for that. I blame her for just about everything.

I overslept and couldn't find time to curl my hair that morning. Was it my fault? No. Your fault? Of course not. You weren't even there.

Who's fault was it?

Well, Mommy's, of course. See how easy that was? To blame her? I do it all the time.

The point is that I work hard at school, and I will use pretty much anything at my disposal if it will help along towards the degree in Business that I could practically TASTE.

Dr. Burns still had those thick framed, black glasses he'd worn since I was four years old. And I still sat, in his corner office with THE view of the Las Vegas Valley, right across from him in my favorite purple chair. I still sat, baffled at how it took a really special person to pull off those glasses, which could only be described as a pair Steve Urkel would wear on his worst day, the way Burns did. If I'd ever tried to wear those things I would have been laughed out of Vegas and then shot and killed once I hit LA for making such a blatant fashion violation.

Burns' hair was jet black and combed into a basic style on his head. I always told him that he reminded me of a smarter Uncle Jesse from Full House, and he always gets bashful when I do. I guess most people would take a comparision to John Stamos as a compliment. Burns certainly did.

"Trevion! "

I blinked. "Yeah? What?"

"You heard me..."

"No, I really didn't, Burns. I wasn't even listening, but, please, enlighten me... since you know everything."

There was that look again, I'm just going to start calling that face 'the mom'.

"Look, I went to UNLV, too, okay? I took Mr. Venibal for Bio3 and I know he hasn't changed his sylybus in fifteen years."

"As interesting as this is, Burns, I'm really starting to wonder if you're going somewhere."

"He always gives a pop quiz on the second day of class and no one is ever ready for it. It's not possible to be ready for it." Burns squinted his eyes at me and I cursed him for being so smart. Sometimes I wondered if he was the one with the powers and not me. "You crammed last night, didn't you? Just tell me, Trevion. I'll know if you're lying."

Don't act like that's some kind of accomplushment, nerd face. I childishly thought.

Honestly, though. When you've known someone for seventeen years you know them all the way down to the shit in there drawers whether you want to or not. I didn't dare voice my thoughts to his almighty, of course. My plan was to get out of his office sometime THAT DAY.

"Yeah, so I crammed! So what?"

"Why are you yelling?"

"Why are you whispering? Don't try to pull that shit on me. Not today. Your little routine where you talk very quietly while I'm yelling to make it seem like I'm the crazy person is so tired! I've been onto you for years!"

He leaned on his elbows and looked in my eyes, "But why are you yelling?"

"Fuck you."

"Don't talk to me like that." He instructed before, almost immediately after, giving me 'the mom'. I was seriously starting to wonder if he had any idea how much he looked like her when he did that.

"Look, I'm sorry. Yeah, I crammed. I was out late and I didn't have time to study..."

"Trevion, we've talked about this."

I'm sure you're wondering, "What the hell are they talking about?" If you're not wondering that, then you probably think Burns and I are talking about "cramming" in the "college student" sense.

I only wish. That would make my life a little too easy. That would make me a little too normal. In the world of Trevion Spencer, cramming consisted of flipping through the pages of any book and, somehow, coming up for air with a comperensive understanding of the entire text in just minutes.

How do I do this, you ask? I don't know. Neither does anybody else. As far as Burns and I know, I'm the only one of my kind. This explains why I used to refer to Doctor Burns as 'Uncle Burns' when I was a little kid. He was the only person around that didn't look at me like I was some sort of monster, some sort of freak. So, naturally, I clung to the man like super glue when he saw that I could move things with my mind and did immediately go leaping out of the closest window.

At six years old I made the mistake of telling my father that I could read books without actually reading them. The same year my mother walked in on me cleaning my room. Except that it was more like me sitting on my bed while various toys and clothes flew, at different intervals, all over the place before landing at their destinations, let it be the laundry basket or the toy chest.

My dad didn't know what to think by the time I'd hit seven. My mom had run out by then, scared of her alien child, so I suppose I should be thankful that my father lasted that long. He was dead now. I hadn't given him enough credit, at all, he stuck with me until the very end. Even if his end was a good thirty or fourty years shorter than the average human. He stuck.

Mom didn't. My foot itches. I blame her.

Bitch.

I never saw my father with another woman after her. I don't remember him ever appearing particulary lonely, but I do remember that he was alone an awful lot. He didn't have many friends, and the ones he did have he didn't talk to often. Kind of like me.

The mysterious gift stuck with me all the way to age ten with no visible intention of going away anytime soon. I wasn't crazy, my father reasoned, and Burns agreed. These things were really happening. I really did have an understanding of any book I touched. If I felt like throwing a twenty seven inch television through my bedroom window, I certain could, and probably would. The only probelm? The types of things I could do physically and mentally weren't the sort of things that blew over well in an adult world where people had already been taught what to believe, what to think, and what to accept. Even if these things were happing right in front of my father's very eyes, I still landed smack dab in Dr. Burn's office. I'm still in that office to this very day. Except it's much bigger, much brighter, and my Burns is a whole hell of a lot richer.

I was in my mid-teens when my father died, and Burns took me in like I was his own. I wanted to drop out of school so many times. There were so many people that I wanted to kill, and could have, with absolutely no evidence. There were so many things I would rather be doing than going to school and being the dutiful neice under Burns' unwavering, thick framed gaze. I remember hating him. Or, better yet, I remember hating him, because there was no one left to hate. He was the only person around. So he endured the rather. He never really deserved it, but he took it. In fact, he saw my emotionally unstable ass all the way through high school and was still around right now. My first year of college, and he was still here.

He was the man in my life. I thought, as I watched him. I loved him more than I'd ever willingly say or even admitt to myself.

"Tell me how you do it, Trev. Don't you trust me after all these years?"

Too bad he was a colossal pain in my ass.

"I've told you a million times, Burns. I don't know. I swear to god."

"You could throw me out of the window in this room--"

"Don't tempt me."

He closed his eyes, patiently. Always patient, "Without even lifting a finger, Trev.... and you're telling me you don't know? How do you not know how you move things with your mind?"

"Could you stop talking so calmy? It really bugs the shit out of me that nothing bugs the shit out of you."

"You see that? You can't give me a straight answer."

"Gosh, I wonder why... Oh, wait, I know! I can't give you a straight answer because I don't know!"

Burns tucked his chin in his hand, looking truely frustrated.

I was almost at his frustration level and felt that it was definitely time for me to leave. More than a few hours with this man a day was enough to work my last nerve. I wasn't going to lie, I love him like a brother, a father, whatever, but it was no fault of my own. When you've been shoved down someone else's throat against your will for seventeen years you can't help but form some sort of emotion towards them. Strangely enough, I felt more adoration toward Burns than annoyance, which would have made more sense. Shows how desperate I am to have an authority figure in my life, I suppose. When you have no one you're not that picky.

"Look, I'm just gonna go. Hasn't it started to bother you that you're losing money every hour that I'm in this place?" I questioned while gathering my things.

Calm as usual, Burns closed and opened his brown eyes, the only aspect of his appearance that possessed a potential playfulness, "I could never charge you, Trevie, you know that."

Damn him, don't smile Trevion! Don't you fucking do it!

"I do accept payment in straight A report cards, or free gift certificates from whatever coffee shop you're working at this week."

I waved my hand at him. "I quit that job weeks ago."

"Good, you should focus on school."

"School costs money, hunny."

Burns smiled at me, smugly, arrogantly. "Sit down, we still have fifteen minutes."

"I'm going."

How desperate am I to cling onto the little control I have in this relationship? I stomp towards the door of the office. I know Burns isn't going to chase me or try to stop me. He's too much of a thug for that.

"Stop cramming."

"It was an accident."

"Same time next--"

I slammed the door and smiled through the sad thump in my heart. I hated leaving him and would never admitt to him that I wished we could meet more than once a week. I really did like to be around him, sometimes. I guess you could blame that on the family that I didn't have and the roomate I could hardly stand. That, however, a whole other ball game that I definitely don't want to play.

Burns hadn't changed. Since I was a child he voiced to me how dangerous it was that I had the gift that I had. This was why, right off the bat, he'd laid down several ground rules that he expected me to follow. The man was definitely smart. He taught me from a young age about the closed minded people of the world. How they would rather kill what they don't understand than take the time to try and understand it. How they would turn me into a lab rat, ridicule me, poke, prod and just be downright mean. At the tender age of six Burns had done what grown ups did best. He'd done a thourough job oh scaring the shit out of me. It was an intelligent strategy, scare them when they're young and they'll never do it. It worked, I'm a walking, talking, breathing example because I still followed his stupid little rules to this very day. Okay, so his rules weren't stupid, so what? He was... just like his stupid little rules.

1) Never use your powers (Didn't I tell you he was funny?)
2) If you insist on using them, only when you're alone and only if it is absolutely necessary (this, of course, includes vacumming up the floor, reheating my hot pockets and turning off the tv when I can't find the remote (aka: I don't feel like reaching across the bed for it) )
3) Never tell anyone about your gift (this rule was the easiest to follow, since I hated people and they hated me).

I followed these rules like the Bible (mostly). Even at times when I really, really... really wanted to use them, I didn't. This, of course, isn't counting heating up things in the microwave and vaccuming the floor. If I can sit on my ass and do these things, you'd better believe I do it. Don't tell Burnsey, though.

Besides, I had a right to lay down a few of my own ground rules. It's my body, they're my damn powers, after all.

Rule Number 4) I have a Trig test tomorrow. Fuck you, Burns. I'm cramming.

It's not like my gift is anything special. Stop the music, I can read a fucking book! Eureka, I can move things with my mind! What am I gonna do? Save the world?

Please, give me a world worth saving, then we'll talk.

Maybe.

--

It's always so easy to watch movies and read about the college experience, the trials and tribulations of that first tedious, borderline unbearable first year and laugh your ass off at whatever idiot manages to fuck everything up. Either they can't find their classrooms, or they're making a fool of themselves in the classroom or their roomate is a complete physcopath who listens to death metal, eats all of your food and changes their tampons right in front of you, in plain sight. Then, if that hasn't charmed you enough, they toss the digusting object clear across the room with Michael Jordan percision into your trashcan, like they don't have their own on their side of the fucking room.

Have you met my roomate, Kim?

As a hardcore Eminem fan you'd think it wouldn't be possible for me to find a Kim that I hated as much as Eminem's Kim.

Wrong!

Meet Kimberly Connorey, my freshman year roomate. The rain on my sunshine, the stank in my popori, my very own hell on earth right in my dorm room. Every day, every... fucking... night. Lord help me to love this girl, before I kill her in her sleep, please lord.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm all about optimisim and giving everyone a fair chance (okay, this is a lie). Kim, though, has gotten too many chances from me and I'm perfectly content with never speaking a syllable to her until this year is over. Unless of course I need something. Like a pair of leather handled numbchucks or the latest Slipknot CD. Oh... except that I will never need any of these things. Not ever.

Did I mention that she's a bitch? Don't even get me started on how or why, but she definitly is.

"Kim, I'm studying over here."

She was tapping her pencil against some book about the most notorious serial killers in US history, but that wasn't what was bothering me. The tv that was blasting some stupid show was. She smiled a perfect smile and, somewhere deep down, I could see that a normal girl used to live in that scary person's body. A girl with compassion, sanity and soap. Where had that girl gone? Why, oh why, couldn't SHE be my rooomate instead? Kim's hair was a firey red that worked well for her complexion and set off against her blue eyes beatuifully. She wasn't an ugly girl, by any means, but she definitely tried too hard to be a badass. Sometimes I wished she had a million tattoos, peircings and jet black hair so I'd at least know what to expect. To come into a dorm room looking normal when you're the way Kim is, well... that's just deceptive and wrong. WRONG.

"I know you're studying, Trevion, you're always studying. I still don't know how you passed Venibal's Bio test the other day. I heard that's not even like... possible."

Breathe, Trevion... just breathe, "Actually, I told you I was studying to hint that the television was too loud and I can't concentrate."

Kim scrunched up her nose and looked toward the tv with regret, as if she wished she could do something, but couldn't. "Yeah..., but like... a Full House marathon is on."

I could feel my cynical eyebrow raising. I couldn't help it. She made me fucking crazy and the lifting of my eyebrow eased the urge to wrap my fingers around her neck, immensely. "I'm humored. You watch Full House?"

"Heck yeah! John Stamos is fucking hot!"

I smiled unwittingly, "Burns looks just like him."

"Who?"

I blinked at the question. For a split second, I could hardly believe I'd even mentioned him, "Nobody."

"I guess I could turn it off.. since you're studying and all..."

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I'm always nice. You're the mean one."

Quickly, I closed my books and gathered them towards my chest, "Don't bother turning it off. I'll just go up to the roof."

Kim rolled her eyes, "Fine."

--

I loved it on the roof. If I could drag my bed and computer desk up there I swear to god I'd sleep there every night. It's always empty and is much better than the library when you want someplace quiet to study. I truely believed the lack of people around is what makes me love it the most. No obligations to make conversation, no loud, giggly girls... no people.

No people. If it was possible to hug my roof, I would.

Who said true happiness didn't exist in the world?

I had a perfect spot on my roof, I liked to call it my sweet spot. It was the one place on the roof that I could almost see the entire campus from. It made me smile to sit in my spot. Sometimes, I had a little too much fun looking down on the other students, pretending they were my slaves and zapping them dead with my imaginary lazer gun, laughing a manic laugh.

I giggled. I never giggle. The thought of all the idiots around me falling to my death, though? I don't know... it gets me.

The second my eyes left the ground to gaze lovingly toward my special place they immiately riveted to the only human figure I'd ever seen up there since the first day of school. I was a little startled and almost frightened. To see a human body where you've never seen one in five months is bound to scare anyone, and I was certainly shaken. I wasn't expecting it, I suppose. Obviously, it was a guy, and for a split second I wondered if he was dangerous.

Then I laughed. Even under the heavy black pants on his legs and layers of shirts he had on over a very nice black coat, he was as skinny or skinner than I was.

He was standing on the edge of the roof looking down but I thought nothing of it. I wondered if he and I shared the same pleasure in pretending to blast all of the bastards below dead with our lazer guns.

Suddenly a feeling of annoyance came over me. What the hell was he doing here? This was my special place. I'd be damned before I went back down into the dorm with my room-monster, but I couldn't stay up here. My special place had been violated by some skinny guy in a black coat. Okay... I just realized what it sounds like everytime I say "my special place". I'll think of a new name later. More important issues call to me now.

"Hey!" I called. "What are you doing up here?"

If I was a complete bitch to him, he'd have no choice but to leave cursing the minute he ever met me the entire way, I reasoned.

His head snapped in my direction and from what I guessed was surprise, his body waved on the edge of the bulding. A gasp of shock left his mouth and a scream left mine.

"Shit!" I cried, holding my hands out, even though I was nowhere near close enough to catch him. "What are you, some kind of fucking idiot? Get off of that ledge. You're insane."

He ignored me and was, once again, standing calmly against the edge. I let a few minutes pass before I concluded that he was ignoring me. This fact just annoyed me more.

"Look, I don't want to sound like a bitch, or anything, but this is kind of my spot. I've been here for seven months and I just... I found it first and it's mine!" The childish outburst escaped from me before I could stop it.

"Oh..." he said, lifelessly. "I'm sorry. I'll be out of your way in a few minutes, all right? It'll be all yours."

"I guess." I mumbled. I did feel kind of thirsty. "Well, I'm going down to the vending machine and if you're still here when I get back you're not going to like it! Not one bit!"

I turned my back and began walking away. He still wasn't responding to my negativity. Usually it only took about a minute or so of my bitching before a person was driven to the brink of insanity and became desperate for an escape. As if breathing the same air as me would make them susceptable to my cyniscim. This guy, though, wasn't so easy to crack.

If there was one thing in the world I hated more than people who talked back to me, it was people who DIDN'T talk back to me. How do you not have a response when somebody is screaming at you and, basically, telling you what you are and aren't going to be doing? I'd just flat out decided for this person that he was no longer allowed on the roof and he didn't even dispute it. Some man.

Some man, indeed. I don't know what it was that made me stop at the door. Actually, I do. It was his voice. He was talking to himself.

At first I figured that this guy was crazier than I'd originally imagined, but, as I put my hand on the handle of the door, I recognized the words he said. My head snapped around in panic as I wondered if I was hearing what I thought I was hearing. He was in the exact same place with his hands in his pockets and his buzzed head hanging low. He seemed so calm, which is a bit of a mystery as what he's about to do becomes more and more clear.

I can see his lips in the distance. They're pink and full. With every words that leaves his lips, a hush of white air goes with it, making them stand out even more. "Dear heavenly father please forgive me for the sins I've committed and the sin I have yet to commit... I'm so sorry..."

The misery in his voice shook me and was sos familiar that it squeezed my heart like a vise.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I called, but received no answer. "Hey!"

He removed his coat with a speed that astounded me and the second it hit the ground he raised his hands at his sides. I screamed again and broke into a run.

Now I never run. Not from mean dogs, not from the nasty fat boy in the third grade and not in PE class freshman year. I am NOT a runner. I don't know what came over me, but I was running faster than I ever had, faster than I ever would.

"STOP!" I screamed, tears coming to my own eyes as he looked back at me. His eyes were very serene, as if he was so grateful. He'd finally found the answer to some great puzzle. This was his answer. I didn't know what was going on in his life, it must have been pretty bad, but he obviously thought this was the solution and I'd be damned if I let it happen without a fight.

He was so...

I blinked, suddenly. His eyes were still on mine and my brain swam as I was hit with a strong and immidate wave of recognition.

Did I know him?

No.

I squinted.

I definitely knew him. I tried to think of the people in all of my classes, but quickly realized that I had no real idea what any of those people looked like. In fact, I'd done a pretty incredible job of denying the very exsistence of most of the people around me, with the exception of Burns and the characters on my favorite tv shows, for years.

So, this guy was either Burns, or one of the dudes from 90210. And there were so many of those, I wouldn't even know where to start. He certainly wasn't Dylan, not Brandon, not the curly headed dude that no one liked.

Maybe David? No.

I pointed at him, "Wait a minute..."

Suddenly, I pictured my television playing Entertainment Tonight, the latest Cosmo magazine that I'd been flipping through just that morning in Burn's office, my younger cousin's entire bedroom wall.

No. I immediatly said, as my green eyes were nearly leveled by his icy blue ones. Did Justin Timberlake have blue eyes? Was this Justin?

I looked harder. No.

I could feel the moment that my eyes went wide. YES, my brain screamed. The second I put a name to the face, Justin Timberlake, I could tell he knew that I knew. This only seemed to distress him more, if that was possible.

"Oh my... GOD." I gasped, unable to find anything else to say. I covered my mouth with one hand and pointed at him with the other, as if there were other people around me that just had to see this. Unfortunately, there was no one else. Just me and Justin Timberlake. Any other day, I couldn't have given two shits about him. Any other place, I probably wouldn't have. The fact that he was about to do what he was obviously about to do, though, made my first encounter with the celebrity I never cared about a whole lot different than I ever imagined it would be.

What would a normal person do in a situation like this? I asked myself. I couldn't come up with an answer.

He closed his eyes for a longer period of time before looking back out toward the campus below, as if he'd never seen me.

Justin fucking Timberlake. On my roof. About to off himself.

I'd done everything in my power, all of my life, to avoid drama. I like to believe I've done a pretty good job so far, but I'll be damned if this wasn't now at the very top of my "holy shit" list.

"Um, um, um... you don't have to do this. I don't know you and you don't know me, but whatever it is... it can't be that bad." I was wringing my hands together. It wasn't a habit I ever remembered having.

He said nothing. That frustrated me. I didn't know what to say and what I was saying obviously had no impact on him. I took a step closer, planning to grab onto his shirt and pull him back. It was as if he could read my mind.

"Don't come any closer." He whispered. The calm in his voice was chilling.

"Please." I begged, "I'm staying right here, I'm not moving, so please... don't."

"Don't come any closer." He said again. I saw his eyelashes flutter closed and graze his cheeks and my heart sped.

"Don't." I pled, again, when I saw a pure calm overwhelm his features. "No, no, no!"

I don't know what happened when he leaned forward over the edge. I don't know what I was thinking when I saw him dissapear. I don't know how I managed to breathe when I ran to the ledge and saw his body falling helplessly before my eyes. Even as he fell, he was calm. It was as if he wanted this without an inch of doubt. Immediately, without even realizing it, I tried to stop him from falling. Another second passed as I focused all of my energy on him. With everything I could, I tried to stop him in mid air, fly him back over the roof or turn back time. Nothing worked. Besides, I never had been able to turn back time. I just figured it wouldn't hurt to try.

At that exact moment, with my eyes on him, sure that he was going to crash onto the concrete ground, I saw it. I saw the exact moment that he panicked. His arms and legs flug helplessly around and I knew, right then, that he regretted what he'd done, but at the same time, couldn't fix it. It was too late. He'd already jumped. There was no room for changes. He couldn't take this one back.

But I could, and I would.

I didn't even realize my eyes were jammed shut until I heard a loud thump against the shed on the other end of the roof followed by a loud scream of horror. My eyes flew open and when I looked into Justin Timberlake's eyes I could barely believe my own. His blue orbs burned against mine with terror and confusion. I'm sure my own mirrored his, perfectly. Somehow, I'd fallen to the ground and was leaning back against the ledge. Both of us were shaking, scared and wondering what had just happened.

Justin was probably wondering if he was dead. I was wondering if I was the reason he wasn't.

This was probably the time, I decided, to say something comforting.

"You asshole."

Okay, not the ideal words to say to someone who'd just tried to kill themselves, but I was fucking pissed.

Tear fell from his eyes and down his face, which was as red as an apple. His body shook so uncontrollably, I could see the trembles from where I sat, several feet away.

He whispered, shakily. "I don't... am I dead? Is that why you were on the roof? You knew this was going to happen and you were waiting to take me? Like, to another life? To hell?"

"Okay." I said, rolling my eyes and standing, "You're alive and obviously crazy."

"Are you an angel?"

No one had ever called me an angel in my life. I almost laughed.

"All that's important is that you're alive." I said. My legs shook under me and when he stood his were doing the same. It was like we were connected, somehow. Binded by blood through the experience we'd just shared.

"But I was falling..." He said, his entire face curled into a frown, "I was dead."

I just stared at him. He, obviously, suspected me immediately. Maybe I could convince him he was crazy and I was just a figment of his imagination? Or maybe I'd just tell him I was his guardian angel and take him to my car.

I would drive his ass straight to the nearest institution, of course.

"Then... I don't know. It was like I just stopped. I stopped falling and my back hit the wall and I was up here. I--" he looked back toward the wall as if he expected it to swallow him whole, then back at me, "What is this?"

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're alive and, hopefully, you'll never do some stupid shit like that again. Common, we're going to the nearest hospital."

"Did you do this?"

"Do what?"

"Do what? You saw me jump! You saw me falling! You saw how I, somehow, under the grace of god-- or I don't know what, land back up here with no explaination! You don't even look confused! Not nearly as freaked the fuck out as I know I am right now."

My eyes bore in his. "That's not important. What's important is that you're mentally unstable and you need a HOSPITAL."

He didn't move. "Are you some kind of witch or something?"

"No."

"Then how did you do that?" His voice was relaxing and going back to normal but as he stepped closer, I stepped back, "It was you... wasn't it?"

I hoped I didn't look scared, but I knew I did. Nobody had ever known. Nobody but Burns.

"I wont tell." He immediately promised.

"There's nothing to tell!" I screamed. I felt panicked. Burns had never prepared me for what to do or say if somebody ever found out about my powers. Maybe he didn't because one of the three rules was never to use them. Fuck, I could almost hear him saying that. But he said not to use them unless they were absolutely necessary. This guy was about to kill himself for the love of pete! What kind of person would I be if I hadn't saved him?

What would happen to me? I really hoped that I hadn't just fucked with "god's plan" or whatever you want to call it. Maybe Justin Timberlake was meant to die that night and I'd just stopped it. I'd just played god, something I never intended to do, "Let's just please go to the hospital." I said, suddenly terrified.

"I can't go to the hospital. I'll be all over the news."

"Let's get to the part where I care."

He sighed, "Look, if you're going to be a bitch about this, then fine. If you tell anyone about tonight then I'll tell everyone about tonight."

"About how you tried to off yourself? That'll make for one hell of a Sunday brunch discussion with the girls." I was seriously being sarcastic at a time like this.

"About how you stopped me from offing myself in mid-fucking air. We all have our secrets... you keep quiet and I'll keep quiet."

Is this what blackmail feels like? I don't like it.

He paused, as if he were waiting for me to tell him my name.

I cringed. "I'm not looking to be friends after this, okay? If you want to go out and try to kill yourself again tomorrow then that's on you. But you wont do it as long as I'm around. That's a promise."

"Are you always this pleasant?"

"If you're not going to go to the hospital, then at least come down to my room so you can call someone."

"Call someone?"

"Yes, like a friend. So they can bring a car, let you in the car and drive away. You leave."

"I don't have anyone to call." He said. The minute he said the words I knew that was the whole reason everything had gone down the way it had that night.

With a scoff, I shrugged my shoulders, "Fine! I have a car. I'll take you anywhere you want to go."

"I don't live here. I have nowhere to go."

"Justin, we're in Las Vegas and you're rich and famous. There are a million and one places for you to go. Why are you even here, anyway?"

He stared at me and, for the first time, I realized how powerful his eyes were, how emotionally telling. "I needed to take care of some things."

"So, the freshman dorm at UNLV was last on your list? You realize you would have landed right by the front door had you succeeded in your little attempt?"

"I do."

"Instead of killing yourself, why don't you get on your knees and grovel for the attention? It's less gory and not as emotionally taxing."

"You don't know anything about me."

"No, I dont. If things go my way, and they will, that will never change. How about the Mandalay Bay? They've got nice suites, I hear. I could even take you to the airport so you can go back to wherever you came from."

"I can't go back." He said, and I was surprised when he followed me to the only door on the roof.

"Sure, you can. I go back to my nightmare of a roommate, night after night. We all have to make our sacrifices." I could tell he wanted me to care about why he'd tried to do what he just did but I wouldn't let myself.

"Just... take me to an apartment complex, or something. A nice one."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're planning on renting an apartment at 12:30 in the morning, huh? Baby, this is the city that never sleeps, but we aint that bad."

He bowed his head.

Oh god, the puppy dog look, gag me with a fucking spoon. Why was I cursed with such a horrible roommate? I wouldn't be in this mess if she didn't make me want to choke her brains out night after night.

"Look, don't get all teary eyed on me. There's this place called the Budget Suites a few miles up Tropicana. They rent by the month. You could probably stay there until you can find a place."

We finally made it off of the roof and he followed me down the stairs and through the halls of my dorm. I'm sure he was thankful that it was relatively quiet tonight. Except for a few lingering stares and hellos nobody really bothered him. Before I knew it we were down in the parking lot headed to my car.

"You drive this Beatle?" He asked, a small smile touching his face.

Was he making jokes? "It does the trick."

I hoped in and unlocked the door. Justin climbed calmly into the seat and buckled his seat belt.

"Safety first." I said sarcastically, "You did not just buckle your... forget it." I laughed for what I thought was the first time that night, "How the hell did this night end with Justin Timberlake in my passengers seat?" I mumbled to myself, pulling out of the park and speeding into the street.

I ignored my curiousity about this man and my car jetted down Tropicana Ave. All I knew was that this guy had made me feel more in the last three hours than I had in years. I didn't like that... and he had to go. Immediatly.

Justin Timberlake. Justin fucking Timberlake. In my car. I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't know what to think of him. Of course I'd long ago come to my own conclusions of him thanks to NSync alone, but he seemed like a fairly nice guy. Obviously crazy, yes, but nice enough. Maybe he was only being so nice because I'd just saved his life and he had a little common decentcey. Or maybe he was being nice because he actually didn't have anyone, like he'd said earlier.

My interest suddenly peaked. I'd been interested all night, in fact, but had managed to ignore it until that very moment.

"How can you possibly not have anyone? Weren't you in that group? There were five of you, right?" I resisted the desire to add on that they usually wore matching outfits who's sequined sleeves sparkled when they did their coreographed dancing, quite ironically, in sync with one another.

He looked away from where he was staring at the window and at me. He wasn't ready for the question, I could see it on his face. "I'm not ready to talk about it right now... or ever..."

Wow, could I read minds, too? The thought quickly vanished when I let his words register. When he looked away from me and out the window like that was the end of it I felt infuriated.

"Oh, you're not ready?"

"No." He mumbled.

"Okay, then. Oh, and just so you know, I was totally ready to watch you try and kill yourself tonight. Happy to be there."

He looked at me, again, his face expressionless. It was just then that I realized I hadn't seen him smile once since I'd met him. Not that I expected him to with the events of tonight. Every time I walked through a grocery store he was cheesing for the camera in half of the magazines on the stand so seeing him so melancholy was a new thing for me.

I looked right back at him, thankful that the light was red. I never lost a staring contest. WAY too hard headed for that.

"What do you care?" He asked.

"Are you getting an attitude with me, right now? Let's take a minute and remember who's car we're in, shall we?"

"Well, you didn't seem to give a damn on the roof. In fact you were a complete--"

"Okay, Mr. Timberlake, I don't give a damn. I don't give two squirts of piss about you. That must explain why I'm driving you up to the fucking Budget Suites when I should be up on MY roof studying for a fucking Trig exam I have tommorow."

He stared at me like he was annoyed, but didn't say a word.

Good, cause I'm not done.

"That has to be the reason I'm looking over at you sitting in MY passengers seat catching an attitude with me."

"So, you do care about me?"

"Oh fuck you." I spat, hitting the gas with all of my might when the light turned green.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tiny hint of a smile push his lips. I didn't care, though. Not really giving a damn whether or not Justin Timberlake is happy with me at the moment. I just want him out of my hair as soon as humanly possible. No more questions about why he tried to kill himself. As of now I have nothing to say to him.

"You're not coming in?" He asked, ten minutes later, as he climbed out of my beat up ass yellow Beatle. He set his hand on top of the car and peeked in at me through the open door.

Was I looking at him like he was crazy? I hoped so, because that's exactly what he was. Even more so than I imagined.

"Why would I come in?" It took everything inside of me to keep a calming tone to my voice.

His eyes narrowed around the dark parking lot and the even gloomier buildings. When they landed back on me they squinted and he shrugged.

Do not go into that rent office, Trevion. Don't you fucking do it. He's a big boy. He's a millionare. Why on earth does he need you to hold his hand through this? If you go with him he's going to cling to you like a fucking leech. Don't you go into that office.

Justin shoved his hands in his pockets and something that resembled relief flooded his face when I climbed out of the car. I made sure to scoff in annoyance and disgust just so he didn't think I was doing this because I wanted to. He didn't say anything. It was almost like he apprechiated my asshole-i-ness. Maybe if I was nicer he'd want nothing to do with me.

"I still don't understand why you can't stay in a hotel. You have money, don't you?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. I guess."

"You don't know? There's no way you can not know whether or not you're a millionare. I sure as hell aint."

He cleared his throat.

"Are you always this evasive?"

"Are you always this nosey?"

"Most of the time? No. When I'm driving you all around town? Yeah."

"Okay." He mumbled, opening the door and holding it open so I could walk through.

"A gentlemen. How 60s."

"A smart-ass, how 90s."

I stopped in my tracks, "Oh so, you've got jokes? For a minute there I thought you were suicidal... oh wait."

"I doesn't bother me."

"Of course it does. It bothers everyone. My sarcasm is a defense mechanism. It's meant to bother you."

"It's doesn't."

"Well, then pretend. Jokes are all I have."

"I believe it." he mumbled, suddenly becoming even more quiet and uncomfortable when we approached the counter. He didn't like being around people, that much was obvious. I wondered if that was something that changed about him or if he'd always been that way. It would be too bad if he was, seeing how he was surrounded by people all day long.

The woman behind the counter didn't seem happy at the sight of a white man and a black woman walking in together but she recognized Justin immediately. It was all over her face. If I had to describe what sex looked like, it would be her exact expression. If we really were together I'd be pissed off that this bitch was checking out my man so shamelessly. I wondered if Justin got the ass thrown at him like this on a regular basis. He was obviously used to it, strutting around like he had no idea how sexy he was when he obviously did.

"Um, hi. I'm gonna need a room."

--

The room was awful. It was absolutely awful. It was small, impersonal and it had a very distictive smell that I didn't even want to know about.

"It's everything I though it would be." I said, watching Justin step into it and look around like it was a fucking palace, "This must be killing you."

He dropped his wallet on the nearest table and I silently thought the fabric alone was probably worth more then my entire outifit... and my car. I couldn't even fathom the wonders I could find on the inside, "What must be killing me?"

"Was that just a full sentence? I'm impressed."

He shrugged, "I guess."

"It must be killing you that this place is so small. I'm sure you'd be used to the Grand Luxury Super Suite or something."

He plopped down on the couch and that's when I realized he had nothing on him. No keys, no baggage, no nothing. Just the wallet in his pocket and the clothes on his back. I hated that my heart shrunk with sadness for him. "Where's all your stuff?" I asked.

He set his hands on his knees and fumbled with his fingers like they were the most interesting things he'd ever seen, "In LA."

"That's strange... since you're in Vegas."

"I guess."

"You take a lot of guesses. Aren't you ever sure about anything?"

He looked up at me, "No."

The way he said it quieted me for a minute. Coming from his lips the word said so much more than it usually did to me. It explained more than an entire book probably could. All I could manage was a startingly intellecutal, "Oh." In response. Okay, instant discomfort. I was never one to stand around and bask in rigid silences so I was suddenly more desperate to get out of there than ever, "So... I'm gonna get out of here, then."

Step through the door, walk away, don't look back and forget you ever saw his face. You've already left the doorway. Those are the stairs. Run down those stairs and you'll be home free.

"Hey!" he called.

Fuck. So close.

"Yeah?" I called.

"Come here."

"Fuck." I came back and stood in his doorway. It killed me to admit to myself how attractive he was to me. And not in a sexual way. More so an "I feel really sorry for you and I give a damn that you just tried to take your life" kind of way, "What's up?"

"You know my name... what's yours?"

"Does that line work on all the girls?"

"I don't usually need a line."

"Oh, yes. Disgusting amounts of money tend to speak for themselves."

"It's obviously worked wonders on you."

"Funny."

He just stared at me. I wanted to be annoyed. I usually would have been with anyone else by now. It never did make sense to me how people could just stare at eachother and be stared at. I, for one, can hardly stand to have someone watch me so closely for long periods of time. With Justin, though, it was almost bearable.

"Trevion." It disgusted me that I was sharing my name. Talk about busting down the wall of China I had built between the two of us. Hours of work tarnished. What the hell was happening?

His eyes bore into mine and I was still amazed at how much feeling was in them. How they perfectly illustrated what he was thinking and what he meant when he spoke certain words. "That's beautiful." he whispered.

Oh god. My heart just skipped. Fuck. Am I blushing? Kill me.

He blinked, "I mean, it's... that's a really beautiful name."

Breathe, Trevion. Breathe. Swallow the spit it your mouth. Get a fucking GRIP.

"Thanks." I said, touching the back of my head just to have something to do before pointing out of the door, "I'm gonna go."

After I said the words his face crunched into a look so surprised and dissapointed it reminded me of one my three year old cousin had mastered. He wasn't used to being the one run out on, that much was obvious.

"Oh... okay."

"Promise not to kill yourself!" God, why couldn't I just be serious and sensitive like a normal girl?

He didn't laugh at my heartless joke. I didn't expect him to.

He watched me until I closed the door and I suddenly felt a feeling I hadn't been in touch with in a long time. Guilt and genuine concern. I wanted him out of my hair but I only hoped he didn't do something stupid.

--

Fuck. Get out of my head Justin Timberlake! Get out of my life! This is where the script writer would enter my scream of frustration.

A cell phone, a really nice one, sat in the middle of my passengers side seat like it was meant to be there. Like that was it's place in the world. This just wasn't funny anymore. I could see the humor when Justin Timberlake was standing on my roof. I could understand the irony when I happened to be there just in time to save him. I could cackle at the fact that he actually wanted me around, like few people did. But this was the last straw. I'd finally ripped myself away from him emotionally and physically and his fucking cell phone is sitting in my car.

I'm not taking it back to him. Hell no. If he wants it so bad he can drive out to campus and get it. I'm already halfway there, after all. Wait, he doesn't have a car. How can he get down there? Maybe I should take it back.

What the fuck am I saying? He's Justin Timberlake. He could afford 50 cabs to China and back and still have enough money to wag around in my envious face.

That freakin' thing was blinking like crazy and I'll be damned if I wasn't curious. Who gets 38 new messages in fifteen minutes? I give you three guesses. Fuck it, he left it in here, it's fair game. I pushed the button to dial voicemail and held the phone to my ear as I approached the next stoplight.

"Please enter your passcode. Then press pound."

A password protected voicemail? How typical. Of course I was only pissed off because I couldn't snoop.

I grabbed the phone after I parked the car and realized just then that I hadn't brought my license or anything.

"The risks I take." I mumbled as I stopped at the soda machine. Should I pay or use my oh so wonderful gift to get a free soda tonight? I was feeling charitable, so I stuck my dollar in the machine and waited patiently for my Dr. Pepper.

It was very quiet in my dorm and I concluded that kids were probably still out partying. No better night then Wednesday night to party until 3 am. Sometimes I felt like I was surrounded by monkeys. Oh! Justin's phone has a ton of games! Pacman! Fuck me, this game was my LIFE when I was a kid. That's it, no studying's going to get done tonight.

"Trevion."

Fuck!

"Fuck!"

Justin seemed shocked at my shock. "Hey, sorry--"

I would have been embarrassed about tripping over the small step behind me hadn't I been so preoccupied with the horror of seeing him standing there, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I just--"

"God!"

"I left my phone in your car."

"Phone!?"

He frowned, "Yeah... the one... in your hand there. Looks like you're playing Pac-Man."

"I thought I'd ridded myself of you." I'd never let him know that I was actually strangely happy to see him as I handed the phone over, "How did you get down here?"

"Cab." he mumbled, playing around on the phone.

"You have thirty-eight messages. That thing is noisier than a mother fuck."

"You shouldn't swear so much."

"You're not serious."

"It's unladylike, that's all."

"You're REALLY not serious."

He didn't respond.

"Well, there's your phone... so, I guess I'll see you when I see you. Which would be never. Since you're rich and I'm not."

"Actually..."

Dammit!

He breathed deep and looked away, "I really don't think I can..." Oh god, men! He wanted to say something that symbolized weakness and it was hard for him. I was not humored.

"Spit it out."

"I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Okay, Aretha."

"I don't know what I might do." He said the words quickly and looked away right after them. God damned if they didn't have an effect on me.

"Don't, dammit. Don't say that to me."

He shrugged, "It's the truth... I don't know anybody else in this city."

"Oh, that makes me feel so warm inside. It's always great to be settled for."

"I need you."

It was my turn to be silent. He was the first person to ever leave me speechless.

"And I'm not afraid to say it. I need you. I do. I feel... less like shit when I'm around you."

"Less like shit? Your intellect is startling. And it can't be healthy to be this open. You should try closing yourself off. Internalizing your feelings. It'll make you more normal."

"I wish I was normal."

I raised an eyebrow, "Believe me, you are normal. You're normal with a few perks like fame and fortune, but normal never-the-less."

"I feel like we're the same, you and me. We both have our gifts, ya know? Just in different ways."

"Very different, and I don't like talking about that with you."

"There's nothing wrong with it. It's who you are."

"That's the kind of thing you say to people who have warts on their ass."

He ignored me, "So maybe I could stay here tonight. Or you could come back to the Suites with me."

"The Suites? I'd rather cut my left tit off. That place is creepy."

"Then I'll stay here."

"Are you trying to get attacked? You do realize this is a building full of college freshman?"

"It'll just be for tonight. Then tomorrow we can go look for a place for me to stay."

"Wait, when did you and I become a 'we'? And why are you looking for a place here when your home is in LA?"

"I don't understand why we can't be friends. Why are you so nasty all the time?"

"Because I don't know you! Just because you're Justin Timberlake I'm supposed to fall to my knees and thank the lord for this rare opportunity to be your friend? Get a little cockier, please!"

"That's not the same."

"So you're telling me that if you were a normal person you wouldn't find this whole situation a little weird? From both sides?"

He looked away.

"And since I haven't been living under a rock since the sixth grade I know that you have SOME friends. Even a girlfriend. In fact, if I remember correctly she's the most famous girlfriend in the WORLD. Isn't her name Britney... or something?"

His eyes filled with fire and I could tell Britney was not a subject we'd be exploring anytime soon. The hate I suddenly felt for her surprised me.

"She the reason, isn't she?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Isn't she?"

"She's not."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine."

"Submissiveness is so unattractive on a man."

"Would you be happier if I smacked you around a little?"

"I'd be happier if I understood you. I'd be happier if this was all a little less WEIRD."

"I don't even understand me. I understand that I need to start over, though. I just need to start clean."

"Pop stars can't start clean. You do realize who you are, right?"

"Unfortunately, I do."

"So what about Nsync? Aren't you close with those guys? Where are they?"

Instead of the fury that filled his eyes at the mention of Britney I was sure I saw a bucketload of painful tears fill them at the mere mention of those guys. I couldn't have been more curious for information then I was at that moment.

"Sometimes things aren't what they seem... alright?"

"No!"

"Then too bad. I just can't deal with it all!"

"So you run away? That's right up their with submissiveness on the 'lame chart'."

"Then I guess I'm lame. Can we go up to your room please?"

Was he serious?

"What HAPPENED to you Justin? We're not going anywhere until you tell me."

"I think I need to see somebody."

"I think so, too! There's a hospital..."

"No hospitals. I just... I can't tell you, I'm sorry. I need to talk to someone, though."

Why was I offended? Why did I CARE?

I shrugged, "I guess I know someone. His name's Mike Burns."

"Who is he?"

"He likes to call himself a guide."

Justin blinked.

"He's a shrink. The name just makes it easier for his clients... us... the CRAZY people to swallow. Makes us feel a little less crazy. You can talk to him in the morning."

"So... will you stay with me until then?"

God, why me?

"Or can I stay up here with you?"

Fuck, shit, damn, fuck, shit, fucky, fucking, shit.

"Common... god." I didn't even recognize myself in the reflection of the door as I swiped my access card and held it open for Justin. My dark brown hair seemed a little shorter against my head, my dark green eyes seemed lighter, my brown cheeks rosier. I actually seemed... content at the idea that I was doing something nice for this guy. I didn't recognize it and I didn't like it. Trevion Spencer wasn't nice. Trevion Spencer wasn't compassionate. Pity wasn't an emotion I recognized on myself but I'll be damned if Justin Timberlake didn't inspire a ton of it in me. Hopefully Burns would be able to talk some sense into him tomorrow and somehow convince him to go home and fix whatever needed to be fixed.

Justin strutted behind me towards the staircase and when we were about five feet away I gave a quick flick of my hand and sighed peacefully as the double doors flew open and thumped against the wall. It wasn't until I was halfway up the first staircase that I turned around and saw Justin reopening the doors with a look of astonishment on his face.

"Oh... forgot you were here."

He just stood there, staring at me.

"Look, if it freaks you out that much I'll try to tone it down on the power front. I just do it without thinking sometimes--"

"You remind me of someone."

Um... random?

"Halle Berry? I get that a lot."

That was the first time I heard Justin laugh. There was no room to be offended because I was too busy reveling in what a wonderful sound it was. It made me angry that somebody was responsible for stealing his laughter, something that obviously came so naturally to him. It made me even angrier that I was the reason he was laughing now... and it made me feel like laughing right along with him.

Kill me.

--

"Kim, this is Justin. Justin, Kim."

I kicked off my shoes and found a couple of sheets for Justin in my closet as he gave Kim a meek little hello. I laid the sheets and a pillow down next to my bed and silently thought that I did have something to thank Justin for tonight. Kim looked like she'd just seen a ghost, then looked at me, and back at Justin. She was speechless. She actually had NOTHING to say.

I smiled up at the pop star. Maybe some good would come out of this horribly disturbing night.

Justin Timberlake doesn't snore. He doesn't stir in his sleep, either. I mean the man doesn't move. Not a haphazzard toss of the arm, not one twitch of the nose. What kind of freak of fucking nature doesn't move around in their sleep? Common. Worst of all, he was enjoying his perfect pop star sleep on the floor of my dorm room. Or at least he was the first time I'd woken up. Where the hell was he? He'd been sleeping down there next to my bed a couple of minutes ago. Or was it hours? Who cares? All that matter was that he was gone. Oh man, I felt like one of his little groupies.

Except that I hadn't slept with him. He'd abandoned me after I gave him a place to sleep and saved his life. That was ten times worse! At least if he'd left me after sex I would have gotten something out of it. That's assuming he's good in bed, of course.

Justin also had a talent for scaring the shit out of me. Maybe he went to some school where they specialized in stopping my heart on a daily basis. Wherever he was, he'd sure as fuck mastered that skill.

I sat up in the bed. If I wasn't so annoyed with him I would have cared about my appearance. Odds are I was in a close second with the Cookie Monster for slob of the year. Who looks good in the morning, anyway? Common. I'll tell you who. Justin Timberlake, that's who.

I sat up in bed and watched him with disgust. If you'd just met him today you would have never know that he'd slept in those clothes, hadn't seen a brush in twenty-four hours and basically mentally unstable. He looked like he was ready to jump on the cover of Teen Bop right at that second.

"You seem pretty preoccupied with the three pictures on my wall."

He looked at me, but didn't smile, I didn't expect him to. He was slightly hunched over, studying the pictures as if they were the answer to all of life's mysteries.

"No, I'm just in shock that you actually have other people in your life."

"Not as shocked as me."

"Is this your mom?"

"Unfortunately."

He watched me closely, as if he were surprised I would say such a thing, "I miss my mom. She's the only thing in my life I was ever sure of."

"You're lucky."

"No, you are. It must be nice to be alone. You don't have to worry about other people. They way you feel about them. The power they have over your every move."

"It's way too early for this shit."

"Oh, so you can't hold a decent conversation until midnight, I guess? You haven't cussed me out yet so I took that as a good sign."

"I'm delerious from exhaustion."

"I see."

"So, I guess you're gonna be finding a place to stay today. Then leaving. Right?"

"Yeah... I need a car first. I'm thinking about an Expedition."

"Yeah, let's just go out and buy a car today. It must be pretty over there in your world."

"Hey, I don't have anything. It would take forever for them to ship my Ford out here. Buying a new one is the best solution."

"You make me sick." I spat.

He shrugged and stood tall. His back pocket was vibrating to the tune of some Ludacris song I didn't recognize, but he ignored it.

"Are you going to answer that, Richy Rich?"

He immediatly cringed, "Don't call me that."

"You don't like that?"

"No."

"Good to know."

"So, are you going to get ready to go now? Or..."

This guy really did live in a land with pink clouds and skipping bunnies, "Actually, Justin, I live in a land called reality where people have to save up down payments for cars instead of just running out and buying them. We feel like God's when we find a dollar on the street and wouldn't lend that dollar to our own flesh and blood if they were starving in a corner."

He blinked, "What is WRONG with you?"

"Seeing how you've followed me all over the city for twenty four hours I think the question becomes... what the HELL is wrong with you, Justin?"

"Why does something have to be wrong with me for wanting to be around you?"

"Because I'm broke as a joke."

"So?"

"And you're not."

"Is that all you think about? Money? All you see is dollar signs when you look at me?"

"Would that bother you?"

"Yes."

"Then yes!"

"Can we go?"

"I have class."

"Oh... I can wait."

"Not in here you can't."

"Can I come sit in class with you? I've always wanted to know what this is like. This whole college thing."

"Come to class with me? You get funnier everyday."

"Thanks."

"That's not a compliment."

"I know, but the denial helps keep me from ringing your neck."

"Don't hold back."

He smiled and I felt my heart jump a little bit. Ew. For the first time that morning I noticed stubble when he reached up and touched the side of his face, "I'm just a little curious, that's all."

"Your curiousity is charming. Unfortunatley, I can't be charmed."

"That's a shame."

"Isn't it? Luckily I'm numb to shame."

"And every other emotion."

"It's a skill I've learned to master."

"Do you have a smart-ass comeback for everything?"

"Yes."

"Can't you ever be for real?"

"Who decides what's real and what's not? You? It's funny how you use your higher place in this world when you need it and look down your nose at the people who judge you for it."

"That makes no sense."

"Sure it does."

"Where's your family?"

"In hiding. Where's yours?"

"I'm not going to answer you seriously when you're not taking me seriously."

"Okay... so I guess we're done talking."

"What about your mother?"

What? I definitely didn't like where this was going.

"I mean... where is she? Where's your father?"

None of your fucking business?

"The same place that your Britney is, I suppose? Where is that, again?"

He was disgusted, but said nothing, "Okay, fine. Point taken."

I felt like stomping my foot against the ground and screaming.

"Why are you here, Justin?! What is wrong with you? I'm treating you like shit and you're still standing here."

"It's a refreshing change."

"I'm so glad you're feeling refreshed. I can sleep easy tonight."

"Trev..."

"Oh GOD, you did not just call me that."

"Don't you feel like we were meant to be together? You were on the roof that night."

Oh jeez, here comes to part where I'm supposed to get all teary eyed. He didn't know me, at all.

"And you did what you did, doesn't that mean something?"

"No."

He looked away, "You know what? This hard ass game you play lost it's appeal a long time ago."

"So I guess you don't approve?"

"Not really."

"Is that my cue to collapse into tears?"

"If you hate me so much why didn't you just let me die? Why did you have to save me?"

Whoa! I couldn't believe he'd just said that. God damn if he didn't know how to push my buttons.

"Look at you. You can only show some kind of emotion when I talk about that night, yet you treat me like shit."

"Saving your life wasn't an invitation to invade mine."

"Yes it was."

"NO... it wasn't."

"Maybe you invaded my life, did you ever think about that?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'd better leave YOUR dorm room and make sure I don't leave my fucking cell phone in YOUR car on the way out."

When I saw his entire face shrink with sadness I cursed the day I'd ever met him. The fact that I'd finally pushed him enough to make him miserable made me kind of miserable. I was mirroring his actions. I was caring. Damn, I hope he doesn't notice that in me. I still couldn't believe I was in the position I was in. Staying down here and dealing with Kim looked like heaven compared to the door I'd just opened to Justin.

"That was my answer!" He screamed, standing tall and backing away from me. He held his hands out to me as if trying to help me understand, "Maybe you didn't understand it but I was ready! That was it! That would have made it all go away and you took that from me!"

He was seriously screaming. I'd never heard a man scream like that since my father and it made me feel five years old all over again.

"You fucked it up for me, Trevion! You reversed it. I don't have anyone! I don't know anyone! I can't go back and I have nobody in this city! I was about to end it all and you took that from me! So, yes, you invaded my fucking life just like I'm invading yours!"

"Am I supposed to be sorry that I didn't let you kill yourself, Justin? Is that what you're saying to me right now?"

"So it's better to save me from the ultimate release than it is to keep me here and make me feel like shit? Does it make you feel more noble? Are you even capable of feeling? Seriously."

"If I didn't have feelings I would have let you die."

"You'd have been doing me a favor."

"No."

"So you did your good deed and that makes you compassionate? You're anything but."

"I never said I was."

"You owe me. You do."

"I only treat you like this so you'll leave me alone."

"You didn't leave me alone!"

"You were going to die! What would you do?"

"I wouldn't be the heartless bitch you've been since the minute we met, I know that much."

Damn, that hurt. I looked away so he wouldn't think I gave a damn. For a moment I wondered if I was one of those people that dished out the shit like it was going out of style but couldn't take a damn bit of it. Did he think I cared just because I didn't know what to say? He better not have, because I DIDN'T care. I didn't.

"Is it because I know about... you? Is that why you're so nasty to me."

"No."

"You never talk about it."

"You don't talk about things, either, Justin! Is this going somewhere?"

"I think so since this is the most cordial conversation we've ever had."

"This isn't a conversation! This is an argument. This will rip us apart for good."

"Everything you hoped for."

"It's like you're reading my mind."

"You didn't even know me. You don't even like me. Why couldn't you just turn your back and let it happen? I wouldn't be in your hair right now and I wouldn't FEEL like this. We both would have won, right?"

"Wrong."

"Then WHAT?"

"I don't know! I couldn't just let you kill yourself! I'm a bitch but I'm not a fucking MONSTER, Justin!" I snapped my favorite red scarf from the bed and screamed in horror when it ripped against a broken edge of my dresser, "Fuck! This was my favorite scarf!" It was one of the few things my mother had ever given me but I held back the tears and threw it on the ground like it was trash.

"Yes you are. You're a monster for letting me live, because that's the last thing I want. That's the last thing I need. It's not worth it to feel like this. I can barely fucking breathe, every thought is consumed with my fucked up life."

"Well maybe if you talked to me about it..."

"When I'm with you I don't think about LA. I don't think about Britney or JC... "

JC? It was like he'd just handed me to last remaining section of a 7000 piece puzzle without even realizing it. It stored the name I didn't recognize into the back of my mind for later.

"It's easier with you. And I thought you cared about me since you cared enough to save me. Am I wrong for that?"

"You can't care about someone you don't know."

"Of course you can. You can love someone you don't know."

"How romantic."

"You just couldn't let me die."

"Stop saying that."

"No. That's the only thing that seems to be getting through to you! I just need you to care. Fuck! That's all!"

"I would have done that for anybody Justin."

"I would have tried it, again, last night. If I hadn't have been with you I would have tried it, again. Don't you see that?"

Oh god, let me wake up from this fucking nightmare. The second I felt a hint of a tear in my eye I turned away from him. I couldn't let him see me like this. Not now and not ever. I directed all of my attention on packing my backpack and when I had it around my shoulders I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I'm not the person, Justin." It surprised me how much it hurt to say the words.

I left without looking at him and if anybody was on my side, it would be the last time I ever saw his face.

--

I was an asshole. I wished I had someone to talk to about this. A friend or a family member, anybody. I couldn't talk to Burns about it because that would involve letting him know that Justin knew about me. I couldn't let that happen, lord only knows the backlash I would get from him and I wasn't in the mood for that. Bio 3 was hard enough as it was and it pissed me the fuck off that Justin was consuming my thoughts like this. That I actually felt BAD.

"Uh, hey?"

The guy that had sat next to me all year long pulled the thought of Justin's face out of my head. I would have been thankful to him if I hadn't been so busy feeling sorry for him and for myself. Annoyed couldn't begin to describe how I felt about anybody that even breathed on me, let alone disrupted me in the middle of my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I spat the words angrily on purpose. Just leave me the hell alone.

"I just wanted to let you know that you left your jacket on the roof. I know you're the only one that goes up there."

What the fuck? Did I have a stalker now?

"Well, obviously I'm not the only one that goes up there since YOU were up there, right? And it's not my jacket so there goes your entire point."

I could see the exact moment where any chance of a friendship I had with this guy had been diminished in that very second. I didn't care.

I really didn't. Gross, I think I actually did care. Try to put yourself in their position, I thought. How wouold I feel if someone treated me the way I treat EVERYBODY? Had I always been like this?

About halfway through the class I felt my entire body chill with worry. It had been two hours since Justin and I had blown up on each other. What was he doing right now? Where was he? Was he still angry at me? Was he still alive? Why, oh why, for the love of god, why did I care? The thought of what he might be trying to do to himself or what he had probably already done to himself scared the shit out of me and I did care. Fuck, I really, really, did.

God damn him. God damn him to fucking hell.

--

I actually opened the double doors in my dorm on my own and jetted up the stairs life I was a happy husband who's wife was giving birth on the top floor. Except I wasn't happy, I was eccentric with anxiety, about to lose my fucking MIND over this pop star.

He wasn't in my room. Panic mode. I actually had to laugh at myself when I started looking in the closet and under carpets.

"Justin come out come out wherever you are!"

Only I would make jokes when Justin could be dead out on the street. I surprised myself when, after looking through the bathroom, I saw Kim sitting cross legged on her bed. It still astounded me how good I'd gotten at ignoring her.

"Hey, do you know where Justin went?"

She stared at me like I was stupid and I wanted to reach out and slap the shit out of her, "Yeah... about that. Maybe next time you could give me a little fair warning when you want to bring a celebrity to our room?"

"Maybe you should kiss my ass. It's really important to me if you know where he is or where he went. Besides, you don't even like him."

"That doesn't matter. He's a superstar! I even have his album."

"I'm shocked."

"I mean... I don't listen to it or anything." She scoffed and rolled her eyes as if that re-justified her coolness. I was actually a little annoyed that she was judging him. Justin's album couldn't possibly get a fair trial under a girl who worshiped Trent Reznor like he was a god.

"Um... so he hasn't been back, yet?"

"Nope."

"Was he gone when you got here?"

"Yup."

"Okay."

I couldn't believe we'd actually held a normal conversation. Nothing in the world would ever shock me more.

Wrong.

My eyes felt riveted to my bed as I stood with my back to Kim. I blinked, not believing my eyes. When I turned back to Kim, she was smiling. Bitch.

"Oh, I forgot. He stopped by about half an hour ago."

Oh. I forgot something, too. Fuck you, Kim.

My annoyance was short lived as I approached my bed. Laid in a neatly folded bundle in the middle of my bed was a lavender scarf that was soft to the touch. Softer then anything I'd ever touched in my life. Was this some kind of joke? He couldn't be serious, right?

When I picked it up it fell open beautifully and a small peice of paper floated down and laded on my bed. Oh Jesus, this was right out of a fucking movie. All I needed were the red curls and big teeth and I'd be Julia Roberts.

I lost everything, somebody should have it

Oh man, looks like Mr. Timberlake is a fan of the vague note. I couldn't tell you if it was a love letter or a big "fuck off" to me and anyone that had anything to do with me. Didn't care in 7th grade Literature class and I didn't care now. I unfolded the two flaps of paper, though, and my curiosity was shattered. It was a check. A BIG check. The kind of money that normal girls like me never get to see. And when I say never... I mean fucking never.

Very slowly, as I realized he'd written his bank account number, and licsence number down on the paper my heart stopped. When I saw that he'd left his wallet and cell phone sitting on my desk I felt like throwing up.

He was giving me everything because he wouldn't need it anymore. He was really going to end it knowing I wouldn't be around to do anything about it this time.

I didn't realize I was screaming until I felt Kim shaking me. Then I was running. Even faster than I had the night before. Faster then I probably ever would. If there was one thing I'd learned from Justin, though, it was to never say never.

Damn him.

--

The door was open.

"Justin!"

The living room was empty. Just the way we'd left it.

"Justin, please! Oh fuck!"

The coffee pot had been shattered in the back corner of the room, as well as the mugs.

"Justin... hello?"

I could barely see the bedroom through my tear laced eyes, but the queen sized bed was still unmade, the television blasting Nickelodeon. No Justin.

"God, what did you do? What did you do?"

The bathroom. His clothes hung neatly over the shower. His pants, his shirts, his shocks. Every peice of jewelery he owned were neatly lined across the sink. For a moment they blinded me under the bright bathroom lights. I screamed as loud as I could at the realization that it was too late. I'd made an unstable man feel like complete shit and if Justin had taken his life this time I had no one to blame but myself. In my whole life I'd never felt this way, I'd never been responsible for other people and their emotions. I'd fucked up, and that fact made me feel like I was being ripped limb from limb.

My screaming shook the walls, Justin's rings and necklaces flew from the counter and crashed against the shower doors. When the mirror shattered I collapsed to the floor. Never in my life had I felt so terrified, so responsible for my own remorse and the remorse of an innocent man who's only sin was having the shit luck of ever meeting me.

I thought I would scream and cry myself to death until I felt a presense behind me. I'll be damned that even in times of strife he could scare the life out of me. None of that mattered when I turned around and saw him kneeling there. His entire body was wet and shaking, his eyes blood red from his own bouts of misery. I didn't even want to know what he'd done. I didn't ask. My eyes narrowed from his and I realized that all of the lights in the suite had blown out. Shards of the shattered mirror threatened us mere inches from our feet and his jewerly was lying in various places all over the floor. Over his shoulder all of the kitchen cabinets and doors were wide open. The refrigerator light blinked in the darkness and the dining room chairs were all overturned.

This is the part of Family Matters where Steve Urkel would squeak, "Did I do that?" Snort, snort.
"The building was shaking... I thought of you."

Aw, he had jokes too, see?

"You're not dead." I whispered the words stupidly and was surprised they were even understandable past my trembling body and horse voice.

"Couldn't do it."

Thank GOD.

"You're an asshole."

"Somebody told me it was lame to run away from my problems."

"Smart girl."

"Who said anything about a girl?"

"Oh, silly me, only men have intelligent things to say."

"No."

"So what's this genius girl's name?"

"Girl's have names?"

Whoa, I didn't know how to come back at him. I've never NOT had a retort. It felt like love.

When the humor subsided his blue eyes shook with tears and I wrapped my arms around him. He cried out and fell against the wall, holding me against him the entire time. This was all he'd needed since the minute we met. I didn't feel as scared as before, which is why I was actually letting him touch me. I felt our bodies shaking together and at that moment I realized I'd never been this close to a man. To anybody.

"I'm scared." He whispered the words against my ear and held me tighter as if to prove it.

I understood perfectly, because I was right there with him. I hated that I gave a damn, that I'd been reduced to tears over a guy I barely knew when I could hardly shed one for my own father or the mother I'd barely known. We were stuck, whether we liked it or not.

"Me too."

God DAMN him.

--

"I'm keeping the check, by the way."

Justin didn't say anything but the look on his face conveyed just how humorous my comment was to him. He looked away from me and straight forward and my eyes followed his.

Ugh. Men.

Burns was scratching his chin and he and Justin had some kind of a staring contest going on. If you could even call it that. I called it two cocky ass men that were way to stubborn and ridiculous to back down from a beef that didn't even exsist. They'd just met five minutes ago for the love of god! What could they possibly have against each other?

"I was under the impression that it was the female race's job to hate each other on sight."

My joke didn't go over well. I wondered if they were even listening. Yeah, stare one another down. That'll prove what big strong men you are, for sure.

"Maybe I should go. All this testosterone is suffocating me."

Burn's eyes were on mine and if looks were literal I'd be doused in flames right at that moment. He was the only man in the world that could shut me down with one flick of his pretty green eyes. They were so pretty. Too bad they were lethal.

"Trevion saved my life. She saw what I was trying to do and she did everything in her power to... to stop it." Justin looked at me and smiled. I looked away. Sure we'd shared a moment but he knew me well enough to know I didn't go looking for the sap.

"I can't believe you." Burns spat at me. Oh he was definitely pissed. I didn't know if he'd ever get over this one.

"I had to do it... could you not look at me like that, Burns? I just-- You know what? I don't even know why I try!"

"That makes two of us."

"What's the big deal?! I was going to kill myself, what the fuck else was she supposed to do? She's a human being for christs sake."

Aw, he was standing up for me. Too bad I had no room to be flattered since Burns looked about ready to choke him. Oh, god, Justin. Don't wake the beast.

"Her gift is not a gift it's a curse! I'll get her killed if she abuses it!"

Too late.

"A curse? How has she abused it?"

Burns rolled his eyes, "You're not a fast one are you?"

Oh god. Kill me. There's no way this could get any worse. His eyes were back on me and I'll be god damned if I wasn't frightened.

"There was an earthquake today. One of the biggest the city has ever seen."

Oh, here we go. Playing stupid seemed like the best option at this point in time.

"So?" I asked. All I needed was two blonde pigtails to twist around a perfectly manicured finger.

"So... we're not in Los Angeles, Trevion. Las Vegas has had one earthquake in the past ten years and that only lasted 10 seconds."

"Yeah..."

"Don't play stupid with me."

"I'm not! I'm wondering what you're getting at."

"You underestimate how well I know you..." After a minute he banged his hand against his desk and his skin was burning red, "You did it! Tell me!"

Holy shit. I'd never seen him scream before.

"...you're scaring me."

I could feel Justin's eyes on me so I did my damndest to hold back the tears in my eyes.

Burns sat back in his chair and looked at me as if he were so dissapointed. I hated that. "Well, Trev... you're scaring me."

I looked away from both of them, suddenly wondering what I was thinking to have ever brought Justin here, "I thought he'd died... I started screaming and the mirror shattered, doors were flying open. I didn't even realize... Justin told me that the building was shaking from outside."

"That's why I ran in." Justin jumped in as if he was my partner in crime or something. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't endearing.

Burns stared at us both quietly.

"God, man, why don't you just back off a little? It's obvious she's upset."

"Are you two fucking? Is that what this is about?"

Shock.

"Burns cusses?" I asked myself, looking around. Burns knows about sex? Burns has sex?

Ew.

"Well?"

Justin sighed, "We're not sleeping together. We're friends. We're there for each other."

"You've known each other for two days."

"Under very different circumstances then most."

"Well, maybe you can tell me this Mr. Timberlake--"

"Justin..."

Burns raised his eyebrow.

Uh oh.

"Justin." he practically growled, "Why did you try to kill yourself?"

Justin immediatly looked at me. After a while, so did Burns. Shit, I wasn't moving. If anybody deserved to know the answer to this question it was me. After a while, though, it was pretty obvious Justin didn't want me to know and when Burns motioned for me to leave the room, I did. LAst thing I wanted to do was piss him off even more. What the fuck had I gotten myself into? What was happening to my life?

"I like this... a lot."

"I hate it."

"You hate it?"

"Did I stutter?"

"Don't be ugly."

"I'm trying."

Justin looked away from me and back at the rental agent as if the conversation had never gone on. In the past week he'd gotten exceptionally good at ignoring me, which bothered me more than he would ever know. He better have gotten used to it. I'm not going to kiss his ass. Sure we're... friends and all, but I'm still Trevion. Friends... that word felt bitter against my tongue and for some reason didn't seem to live up to the relationship me and Justin were slowly building.

"Susan, is this the biggest unit you have?"

Susan, ugh.

The rental agent was a perky, well put together and exceptionally friendly lady. I hated her. I hated her from her stark straight hair all the way down to her perfectly manicured feet. She was nice, but I just didn't like her. Justin did, maybe that was why.

Hm, this must be what jealousy feels like, huh? Well, let me tell you, it sucks big ones.

"No, Justin. We actually have a 4000 square foot four bedroom but it doesn't have a view of the Strip like this unit does."

When she said these words Justin looked like he'd just been punched in the gut, "Damn..."

"Why is a view of the strip so important? Is it going to help you sleep easier? Improve your awful cooking?"

"Hey, I cooked for you once and that was in your dorm room's kitchen. Plus, your roommate was bothering me so--"

"Fine, Justin! You're the Iron Chef, okay? Damn."

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the agent.

"All I know is my Maccaronni was burnt when I came downstairs."

This time, both of them were looking at me as if the world's entire exsentince depended on my shutting up at that very moment. I pulled the nastiest glare at the rental agent and reveled in the look she gave Justin. It screamed 'why are you letting this angry black woman follow you around'? I'm just as curious as you, Susan. Except I'm not following him, I'm being dragged against my will. Except that I wasn't, I actually liked being aorund him. He would never know that, of course.

"You'll have to excuse Trevion, she--"

"She'll have to excuse me? What?!"

Justin looked at me like I had fallen out the ass of a spaceship before turning back to Susan. His expression immediatly shrunk into a polite smile and I all but gagged. He definitley had that bullshit grin down pat. He never smiled at me like that. I wonder if he ever smiled like that outside of big concerts and magazine covers. I've sure as hell never seen it.

"Susan, you've been wonderful, but I have a few other places I'm going to see today."

Susan laughed nervously. She really didn't deserve to endure my wrath, "Oh, okay. Well, thank you Mr. Timberlake, there will always be a place for you here at The Arbors."

"Thanks."

"If it makes any difference I did feel bad for being a bitch to her. Do you see what you're doing to me? I'm not supposed to be capable of guilt."

"It's called an emotion. We'll get a dictionary and go over that word point by point later."

"You couldn't have wanted to get in her pants more even if she naked shaking her tits at you. Pervert."

"What? Are you jealous? Is that what this is?"

Whatever. I'm not going to answer you. You don't exsist. Fucker.

"What is WRONG with you?"

"You know, you ask me that at least once a day."

"I'm genuinely curious."

"Well maybe we should set aside some alone time so we can both drill each other and set aside all of the curiousities we have."

"We're always alone."

"I know."

"We're alone right now."

"Okay, Nancy Drew, why are we apartment hunting in Las Vegas when you have a home in LA? Why are we going furniture shopping when you have enough furniture in your old house to fill two small countries? What did Britney Spears do to you? Why don't you ever answer your phone calls? Who is JC? Who are YOU?"

Justin looked horrified. I loved it.

"Just curious." I shrugged my shoulders while brushing by windblown bangs out of my eyes. I needed a haircut.

He came right back, "How do you move things with your mind? How do you make entire CITIES shake when you're in turmoil? Where are your parents? Why don't you have anyone in your life? Why are you so FUCKING scared of intimacy, Trevion, that you can't even look me in the eye right now?"

"Looking into other peoples eyes is overratted."

Justin took a step closer to me and stared me dead in the eye as he reached one hand up and touched the side of my arms. His eyes were so pretty. They were all blue and-- whoa! Snap the hell out of it Trevion! He's touching my arm, he's rubbing it. Shit, I'm enjoying this. Find a reason to push him away. What the fuck, you don't need a reason, just do it.

I didn't see his face when I pushed his arms away but out of the corner of my eye I could see him smiling.

"Overratted, huh?"

"Fuck you."

I let him reach out and touch the red scarf wrapped around my neck. He poked his finger through the large hole at the bottom of it, "You really like scarfs, huh?"

"My mom gave it to me."

The words seemed to surprise him but I didn't understand the guilt that was on his face. He hadn't snatched it off the bed and ripped it.

He disarmed his brand new midnight blue Expedition and came around behind me.

"We're going to find an apartment, we're going to furnish it and then we're going to sit down and talk to each other like humans beings. Sound good?"

Finally! That's all I wanted! When I turned around to look at him I hardly recognized him. Maybe it was because he was finally ready to open himself up to me and it showed in his eyes. No, that couldn't be it. It was because I'd wanted nothing more than to jump his ass two seconds ago and still suffered the side effects. I'll be damned if his years of charming unsuspecting 13 year olds didn't make him a fucking pro. He'd somehow managed to take control of the entire conversation without me noticing. For that, he would surely pay.

"Uh... yup."

"Good."

"Good."

Yes, my IQ just dropped ten points.

--

Wow, this was nice. This was really nice.

In my entire life I don't think I've ever been in a place with more than two bedrooms so needless to say the five bedroom condo Justin and I were exploring now left me a bit speechless. It was in some big building that I'd always thought was a hotel. Top floor. View of the entire strip.

"Budget Suites my ass." I mumbled, running my fingers gingerly over the suede sofas and shining oak tables. Mirrors lined most of the walls of the living room and made it look twenty times bigger than it was. Unfortunately, it also reminded me of what a mess I was that day and how little I belonged here. When I gazed at the rental agent, Jay, and saw him smiling I smiled back. I liked him better than the last one. It was because he was a man, of course, but I would never admit that.

I held his gaze for a moment longer but my short-track mind moved on to bigger and better things. Like the flat screen in the bedroom over his head.

"Good god, Justin--"

When I looked at Justin he was looking back at me. Fuck. Why was he looking at me? Did he notice when I hadn't felt anything at all earlier in the afternoon when he'd touched me? Cocky bastard. He would pay.

I pointed towards the master bedroom, wondering what I was going to say, "Flat screen."

His eyes followed my finger and he smiled, "I have three."

"I'm shocked."

"I'm sure."

"Ya know, you don't have to respond to everything I say."

"Neither do you."

"Shut up."

"So, what do you think? It seems perfect for the two of you, if I may," Jay suggested. When he smiled my heart jumped a little. That was one fine black man. The honey colored suit that worked against his eyes like magic didn't hurt, either.

"We're not together." Let's get that straight right now.

"Oh."

"How much?" Justin asked, fumbling around in the pocket of his jeans. When was he going to get some new clothes? The fact that he could wear them nicely was impressive the first two days but now it was just nasty.

"3000 a month, sir, with a 6000 deposit."

God DAMN.

"God damn, Justin."

He looked at me like an embarassed mother would look at her child, "I think we'll take it."

"He'll take it."

"Jesus... I'll take it."

I looked at him like he was crazy for several seconds then blinked.

"Sometimes I forget how rich you are."

"Liar."

"Okay."

Jay's eyes narrowed between the two of us and I could tell that he was curious but, frankly, we were none of his damn business, "Wonderful, follow me please and we'll take care of all your paperwork. And can I say with the utmost reguard, welcome to The Embassy Suites, Mr. Timberlake."

justin did a lame little bow, "Thank you."

"Ew." I rolled my eyes when Justin motioned for me to walk in front of him, "and you and I are going to have a talk about this 'we' shit."

"Stop cussing for the love of god."

"For the love of god, Justin, kiss my black ass, please."

As Jay led us toward the elevator I tilted my head to the side. Dammit, his suit jacket was so ridiculously long. If only it was just a little shorter.

I guess Justin saw Jay's jacket slowly inching it's way up and over his ass because the moment I was about to get a gander at the goods he pushed me.

"Stop it."

"You're not my daddy."

"No, neither is he."

"Is that jealousy, Justin?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Believe me, I'm not."

I'm NOT.

--

Holy shit.

"Fuck."

"Good GOD, Justin."

"Just... hold my hand, alright?"

"Okay, that's gonna happen."

He didn't come back at me that time. I hardly expected him to. In fact, I didn't think he was even capable of normal thought at the moment. I knew I wasn't. I had hated the feeling of one camera flash going off in my face after we sang 'I Believe I Can Fly' during fifth grade graduation and my mother couldn't stop taking pictures.

But this was different. Really different. This was actually kinda fucking scary.

They obviously didn't give a damn about me since they were all screaming out Justin's name. Through the blinding flashes I was somehow able to make out about five guys and seven cameras. All of them were going off like wild fire and all of them were highly expensive, that much was obvious.

My mind finally made on coherant thought and with that one thought I had an eternal pity for any and all celebrities in the world. Yup, I'd watched this with Kim on some channel. Celebrities Uncensored! That was it. Damn, whatever happened to that show? Anyways, I had always thought it was funny how much the stars freaked out and made themselves look like idiots. It amused me to crazy levels.

Now... not so much.

"Paparazzi."

"Tell her what she's won, Bob." Justin said.

Yeah, he's definitely been hanging with me for too long.

His hand took a hold of the top of my arm as he hurried towards his car even though I'd told him not to touch me. I was too uncomfortable and freaked out to stop him, though.

"But... how do they know? How did they find you?"

He didn't answer me and at that moment I saw that they'd all but barricaded the front door of his brand new truck. Oh, this is cute.

"Is that allowed?"

"This isn't soccer, Trevion."

"Fuck you, you know what I mean. They can't do that, can they? I mean, it's not legal."

"It's very legal."

"But--"

"Do you really want to do this right now?"

Not really. Damn.

"Just stay close to me."

Before I knew it the two of us were facing Justin's car and all of the guys with cameras. I swear to god if one more flash goes off in my face someone's getting the shit knocked out of him.

One flash turned into two and two into ten. After a while there were so many people to slap that shit out of that I lost count. It didn't even seem worth it.

Names were flying everywhere. Britney. JC. Nsync. Ferrari. Malibu. Justin. Justin! JUSTIN!

I don't remember the exact moment that I'd hit someone. All I knew was that they had gotten too close. Way too close, way too fast. My heart stopped from sheer panic and my hands just flew. It stung against the hard metal of the camera and the sound of it smashing against the ground freaked me out even more. The owner of the device was screaming all kinds of crazy shit at me so I swung again. I think it was his face that I hit. It could have been his dick. I wasn't sure.

He was screaming about private property and lawyers and the cameras were still flashing in my face and people were screaming and my ears were pounding and I was PISSED and... ARGH!

Justin was trying to pull me away and that's when I realized I was still swinging. By the time I'd stopped myself we were both in the car and a few of those... animals were still banging on the windows and taking their fucking pictures.

Were they all putting together a fucking Timberlake scrapbook where they need his every step and every breathe point by point? Justin's not THAT interesting, believe me. I've got a sock rabbit in the back of my closet that I've had more fun with.

Some of them were standing in front of the car, others were in the back. Are they trying to barricade him in? Oh, way too cute.

I did know one thing though, these mother fuckers wouldn't stop taking pictures if their momma's life depended on it. Talk about persistense.

We had to literally push our way to the passengers side door and when Justin got it open he all but threw me in. He was in on his side minutes later. The first thing he did was start his car. Not like he could go anywhere. Unless he'd planned on double homicide when he'd woken up that morning.

"Oh my god!"

"You can't hit people, Trev, okay? You can't, you can't, you can't!"

"WHAT?!"

"Look... I understand--"

"No!" Was he really taking their side right now? "WHAT?!"

Justin rolled his window down and didn't even blink once at the million flashes that went off in his face, "You guys, can you please just step away from my car? This is ridiculous. PLEASE?"

"Please? You can't be nice to people like this! They feed on your weakness!"

"Not now!"

"I don't think I'm the one you want to be screaming at right now!"

"Shut up!"

Oh no, oh hell no.

"I'm sorry, okay? Just let me handle this."

Well, EXCUSE the fuck out of me!

They were all screaming at him and that made me so angry. Justin was trying to talk to their asses like humans beings and they were treating him like shit! All while shoving their fucking camera's in his face. I was still pissed off at him for standing up for them and yelling at me but I was still on his side, too. It was hard not to be. It was like a team effort to barricade Justin's car until he gave them some answers but it was none of their buisiness. I guess that didn't matter.

"Trevion!"

There I go again, dissapearing into my own little world. When my eyes focused on Justin he was panicked. It wasn't the same kind of panic he'd had that day on the roof, though. It was a controlled panic. He'd been dealing with this shit for a long time. Being a rookie and all I was obviously losing my mind with paranoia and I could admit to myself how happy I was that he was here.

"Stay in the car." I didn't hear him say the words but I could read his lips and when he tried to climb out I saw my arm reach out to grab him. It was like I was another person watching this entire thing go down. He removed my hand from his back without even looking at me and climbed out of the car. When he slammed the door shut I fell back against the seat and let my wide eyes take everything in. This was just insanity. There was no other word for it. All of Justin's window's were tinted except for the wind shield. There was some relentless bastard standing on the bumper flashing my picture like I was fucking Madonna.

I'm just an angry college student with ten dollars in my pocket and a roommate named Kim. What the hell could he want with me?

Sure, I could move things with my mind but he didn't know that.

Oh wait.

I could move things with my mind... but he didn't know that.

And here I thought there was nothing in the world that could stop these people.

When the bastard's camera flew out of his hand and knocked him sqaure in the forehead my head swam with happiness. When he flew off of the bumper and laded on his back ten feet from the car it put a pretty smile on my face.

Justin jumped back into the car and slammed the door. He was giving me a look of pure death. WHAT was it going to take to get him on my side today?

"A thank you will suffice."

"Trevion... don't DO that!"

Huh?

"Okay, Burns."

He glared at me and I was actually a little intimidated. What was happening to me?

"I was saving your ass, Justin. Don't you want people to leave you alone?"

"I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Nothing's gonna happen to me." I pointed a finger out of the driver's side window and cackled evily as each and every camera in each and every hand went flying into the air. I didn't think I'd ever been so amused in my life as they all scrambled around like monkeys making sure their specific camera didn't crash onto the pavement. Of course, this was combined with the confusion of how the hell all that had just happened.

When Justin started his truck and sped away I looked out of the back window they were all standing there with their silly little cameras looking stupid as shit. Only one of them hopped into a vehicle to follow us.

When I looked back at Justin he was pissed. SO pissed.

Did I care? Not so much.

--

"They can't follow us in here." Justin mumbled.

Our paparazzi adventure had led us straight to the Boulevard Mall. The men's section of Dillards to be exact.

"This is the perfect opportunity to get you some new clothes. I think it's appropriate that we all get down on our knees and thank the lord for this blessing."

He didn't laugh.

A bright yellow pullover caught my eye and when I touched it the softness made my skin tingle, "This is nice."

God damn if I wasn't trying to be nice to him right now and he was being a complete dick.

"Justin, I'm not going to kiss your ass, okay?"

He didn't say a word as he fumbled with a few ties. Even though everything on him was dirty his hands were clean and soft as a baby's ass. I don't think I've ever met anyone who washes their hands as much as he does. It was weird at first but it was growing on me. The silent treatment... was not.

I grabbed the ties he was fooling around with and threw them on the other end of the display. I'll be damned if he wasn't taking me down to his kindergarden level.

"I was under the impression that there was only one girl in this group."

He sighed.

Fine.

"Fine... fuck you, too, Justin."

I don't have to deal with this shit. Those are the doors to Dillards. Those doors lead to the outside world where all the normal people live. People who don't have to deal with Justin on a daily basis like I do. I actually found it hard to remember a time when Justin wasn't in my life. I didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. I did know that I wasn't afraid to find out. As those doors got closer and closer they felt more and more like freedom.

I didn't want to go, but I'll be damned if I was going to stand around and be ignored when I hadn't even wanted him in the first place. God damn him for bombarding into my life and MAKING me like him. Fuck.

"Where you goin'?"

"I see you've discovered the miracle of speech."

Don't stop walking. Those are the doors.

"Don't you think this is a little extreme?"

"No, I think twenty camera's in my face is a little extreme. I think you taking their side is a little EXTREME, Justin!"

"You're being such a hypocrite right now."

"Fine."

"You get pissed off at me all the time."

"But I DON'T ignore you!"

"I'm sorry, okay?"

No, not okay! Keep walking!

"Somebody told me it's lame to run away from your problems."

"Oh, that's clever."

"But you're numb to cleverness."

"There ya go." Doors, yes! Open them and run. The doors are open, you're out of the store. Cameras, cameras, cameras. Flashes, flashes and more flashes.

Shit, I forgot. One minor setback. I'll find another store, leave through there.

I didn't even give my eyes enough time to adjust and ran into a door that I thought was open, "Ow! Fuck."

I heard Justin's hysterical laughter but I wouldn't let myself be amused. It was my turn to be pissed off. When he touched my arms I saw red.

"Don't TOUCH me." I somehow stumbled back into the store and when my vision focused I headed towards the opening to the mall.

"Common! Stop walking away from me, okay? I was just looking out for you."

"I ran into a wall and you still can't keep the laughter out of your voice. Talk about looking out for me." I turned around to face him and had to squint my left eye against the camera flashes flying through the windows. Shit, what was I thinking to have turned around and looked at him? He was still smiling and I'll be damned if it didn't make me want to smile. He smiled like he could see my resolve crumbling. Lord knows he already knew me like the back of his hand.

"Where are you gonna go?"

"Home."

"To Kim?"

"If I must."

"You don't have a ride."

"I'll WALK."

"It's 50 degrees outside and you're wearing shorts. You hate the Cat bus. Look, I said I was sorry. I have marshmellows in the car."

God, he did know his audience.

"I don't give a shit about marshmellows."

"Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to apologize about anything? This is huge for me."

"I'm flattered."

"No you're not."

"No, I'm not."

"Are you mad at me?"

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

"I'm sorry about the cameras."

"Me too. But it's not your fault."

"You can't use your powers in front of them. That's really important to me."

"And it's really important to me that you not grow into Burns the sequel."

"Okay."

"For some reason I think that was too easy, but I'm letting it slide."

"It actually took them a week to find me. I was kind of hoping they wouldn't."

"So can I assume they're an added bonus to being your friend?"

"You can, but I'll protect you."

"Don't make me barf. Get this." I grabbed up the yellow fleece and threw it at him.

"You want to help me find some furniture, too?"

"For the Embassy? It's already furnished."

"Yeah, but I don't like it."

"They're not going to let you move their stuff out... wait. God, I keep forgetting who you are."

He smiled, "That's what I like about you."

"Shut up."

"Look, people are going to know that you're associated with me really soon. They're going to do everything they can to tear you apart and bring you down. They're going to lie to you about every little thing. We just have to have trust. We're like a team, you and me, okay?"

Not really.

"Sure."

"Good."

He put his arm around me and I was sure thanking god that I let him keep it there with his life still intact. As we passed a case full of sunglasses I fingered some really girly ones. It was something I would never buy but they were nice. Nothing wrong with admiring.

"You want 'em?"

"And let you use them against me for the rest of my life? God no."

"The rest of your life, huh?"

"That was a bad choice of words. Okay, that's enough."

I threw his arm from around my shoulder and he laughed.

"Oh, this is nice."

We weaved in and out of the clothing racks until both of our arms were filled with piles and piles of clothes. Shirts, jeans, sweaters, socks, ties, any and everything you could think of Justin and I had.

"Where are you going?"

I looked back at him, then towards the door I'd been heading for, "Towards that big hole in the wall called a fitting room?"

"Nah, common, we'll stop at a few more places."

"What if it doesn't fit?"

"I'll donate it."

"You're sick."

"Tax write off."

"Your insensitivity is charming."

"I thought you couldn't be charmed."

His words stopped me in mid retort and I found myself wondering the same thing.

I thought so, too.

--

"Do you realize you spent... fifteen thousand seven hundred fifty-seven dollars and three cents today?"

"You kept count?"

"Somebody should."

He chuckled.

"Who's JC?"

Justin stopped mid-fold and sighed softly. From my place in the middle of his bed I could see the exact moment when he spine froze and his folding stopped. He'd already filled his closet with clothes and was now working on his dresser drawers. I'd never been so convinced of his complete reluctance to return to Los Angeles until this very day.

He cleared is throat and I knew he was looking for a way to change the conversation but that wasn't happening. Not this time.

"I guess you're not longer amused with jumping on the bed?"

"No, that got old faster than I thought it would."

"I figured Mike would have told you by now."

"Who's Mike?"

Justin looked at me and I looked right back at him. What?

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Mike? Your therapist?"

Oh!

"Oh, his name's not Mike. It's Burns. My parents made me call him Uncle Burns when I was little. Then I found out he wasn't really my uncle and was momentarily traumatized. Needless to say I axed the uncle and have called him Burns ever since."

"Thanks for the novel."

"Fuck you."

"So... he didn't tell you?"

Did I stutter?

I shoved some marshmellows in my mouth and shrugged, "He didn't tell me, Justin. That's why I'm asking. You promised we'd talk about it."

"I know I did..."

I'm waiting.

"He was part of NSync with me."

After he said the words he went back to his folding as if that was all that needed to be said.

"Oh, so he was apart of Nsync with you. That makes it crystal clear why you tried to kill yourself. I don't know how I missed it."

"Trevion."

"Justin."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Tough titty."

"That's classy."

"Oh, you've known I was trash from the moment you met me, don't try to act all shocked and shit."

"You're not trash."

Heartwarming.

"You're the only good thing that's happened to me in months."

Okay, it really was that time.

"God, give it a rest."

"Your compassion is astounding."

"I guess you think you've gotten me to forget about JC, right?"

He threw down the pair of boxers he was working on and turned to face me, "He was like my brother, my best friend. We went through a lot of shit together and he got me through a lot of shit. I would have jumped in fucking traffic for him."

A marshmellow hung halfway out of my mouth because I was so flabbergasted at his sudden intensity, "Would have?"

Justin sighed, but he didn't take his eyes off of mine, he was going to tell me.

FINALLY.

"He fucked Britney."

Oh shit.

I didn't even realize my hand was over my mouth until I felt the moist marshmellow sticking to it. The tears that made his eyes shine but didn't fall hurt my heart a little bit. That had been so hard for him to say it made his entire body shake with rage.

"I've never said that out loud before."

No shit.

"Happy?"`

He was not all about crying in front of me and jumped off of the bed. Within seconds he'd slammed the door to the bathroom leaving me sitting in the middle of the king sized bed, my heart pounding from shock.

"No... not really."

I knew there had to be more. A friend fucking your girlfriend wasn't enough to make you want to kill yourself. And I knew Justin enough by now to know that alone wouldn't be enough. From now on, though, I wasn't going to probe him about it. If he wanted to tell me then he would tell me.

But I wanted to know now! Damn him.

A shiny object hanging out of one of the last few bags caught my eye and I reached out to grab it. What in the world would Justin need with something sparkly and--

"Oh fuck you."

The really girly sunglasses hung from my fingers and seemed to be taunting me like they could feel the guilt that was running through my bones. Like they could sense the exact moment that I'd lost all control of the wall I built between me and Justin. Those damn sunglasses heard that very wall crumbling to the ground and I'll be damned if I didn't want to throw them on and rock them all the way home.

Damn him.

"Every woman should have her very own Richard Gere."

"What the hell?"

"I mean, look at him, he's so handsome. And he's really romantic with her, ya know?"

"Who are you?"

Calmly, not wanting to miss a second of the movie, I picked up a pillow and slammed it against Justin's face.

"Ow." He said deadly, tossing the pillow on the floor, "Okay, seriously, Trev... Pretty Woman? If I knew this was all it took to make you human I'd have done it six days ago."

"Justin, could you maybe shut... The fuck... Up? They're going to the Opera."

He chuckled, "We could go to the Opera."

"Oh please."

"You'd hate it anyway."

I shrugged. He was in a good mood. It had taken two Janet Jackson concert specials and Die Hard to get him there and I'd die before I put him back in a shitty mood tonight.

"We're watching XXX after this."

"I'd rather eat shit and die."

"I don't doubt that."

"I'll just go back to the dorm."

"On the bike? You have fun with that."

"God, Justin, we'll watch XXX, okay? SHUT UP."

"Oh, I'm Richard Gere, please, let me slam you fingers into a jewelry box and call it romance."

"He didn't slam her fingers, he nipped them. A subtle difference that braindead frat boys like you will never understand."

"I was never a frat boy."

"You would be."

"I'm not."

"Okay, Justin. Oh, oh my god! He did not... That is just..."

I squealed. I actually squealed. Richard Gere just did the cutest thing!

"Oh, my... God, you can't be serious. I don't even know you right now."

"I'm being compassionate."

"Yes, and I'm frightened."

"God, you must really think I'm some kind of super-bitch, huh?"

"I prefer ball-busting carnivore, myself."

I held my hand up, then used it to cover my mouth at a particularly touching scene.

"Oh man, I'll be in the bathroom throwing up."

"Enjoy yourself!" I cried, waving him out of the room.

Of course, since god is against me, the second Justin left the room somebody knocked on the door. This was the fourth time it had happened all night and Justin had always been the one to do the honors of cursing out whatever retarded girl had found out where he lived. He'd made it seem like so much fun that I actually wanted a crack at it this time.

I paused Richard, wouldn't want to miss anything, and cleared the popcorn, sofa and candy from my lap before hurrying towards the door. The second I threw it open, I regretted it. I didn't know how I knew, but this guy was no good. Not at all.

"Uh... We don't go to church, we don't like charities and we don't want any girl scout cookies."

"Trevion--"

You know how the sound of your name just catches you off guard when it comes out of a strangers mouth?

"Yeah? How did you know-- fuck, I forgot about the damn magazines."

"Is Justin here?"

He got right to the point, "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm Trace, we've been best friends since we were this big and I'd really appreciate it if--"

"Shit."

"what?"

"Look, I know this sounds selfish, but I just got him to stop acting like an asshole and your being here is not going to--"

"Trev, close the door."

The sound of Justin's voice behind me was startling and the second I took to look back at him the guy on the other side barricaded his way in.

"Whoa! What the fuck!"

"Trevion, close the fucking door!" Justin screamed.

"Don't yell at me! Shit, he's in here now, anyway! It's about time you dealt with all of this, anyway, Justin!"

Justin took one look at Trace and it was like he couldn't decide whether to scream, laugh, or cry. So he just raised his hands in the air and turned away from bother of us, "FUCK!"

"Look, man. I'm here for you, alright? We're all back at home worried about you, man."

"That's bullshit." Justin spat, pointing at Trace.

Okay, Trevion, private moment, make a beeline for you shit and get the hell out of here.

"How is that bullshit, dog? I haven't done anything to you! I just want to be here for you."

"What about when JC was fucking Britney, huh? What about that?"

Trace looked just about as horrified as I felt, "I didn't know about any of that. Nobody knows what the fuck is going on. All we know is that we all woke up one morning and you weren't answering the phone. Nobody knew where you were. Lynne is going out of her fucking MIND, bro. What are you doing?"

With each sentence it was like a piece of Justin was being stripped away to reveal a new person that I didn't know. That I'd never met.

"I don't know... I don't know... Everything is just so fucked up and you can't be here."

"And what about her?" Trace asked, "Who the fuck is she?"

"Maybe you wouldn't mind taking your finger out of my face, Trace." My words rhymed and that only made me sound more smartassed. I relished in the look on his face.

"This is what you do? You disappear when shit gets rough, find some girl on the street, come home and watch Pretty Woman?"

What the fuck?

"Whoa! You don't even know me, asshole. For your information I've bent over backwards trying to get away from this crazy mother fucker."

"Oh, okay then." Oh, he was right up there with me on the sarcasm. I hated him for it.

"Whatever, I don't have shit to prove to you." No need to be quiet about it anymore, I hurried towards my stuff. It was time to go.

"No, Trev. Trace was just leaving."

"I'm not fucking leaving."

"Yes... You are."

"No... I'm not."

"Well, I'm definitely leaving, at least we know that much."

"I said don't go, Trev."

"I know, Justin! But you're not my fucking daddy for the fiftieth fucking time, alright?!"

Trace looked back and forth between us like he couldn't believe his eyes, "This is what you left for? This is why everybody hasn't been sleeping, worried sick about your ass? Some girl that don't even want you?"

"It's not like that. It's different."

"You need to come the fuck home, Justin."

"I'm not going back. Not ever."

I don't know why I felt a surge of pride for him. Why the thought of him actually leaving with Trace made me sick to my stomach.

"How do you guys even know each other? I'm so fucking confused, Justin."

Trace obviously had no idea what Justin had tried to do to himself not even a week ago and I was in no place to say. It actually made me feel in the better that I wasn't the only one that didn't know what the fuck was wrong with Justin.

"Well, I guess you're going to stay confused. Now Trace please get the fuck out before I have to call someone."

"So that's it? You're just kicking me out? I spent 500 dollars on the first flight I could get when I found out you were in Vegas and you're just throwing me out?"

Justin didn't flinch, "Yes."

"Justin."

"I just can't deal with this shit, right now, alright? God, shit was finally starting to go good..."

"In Vegas? You HATE it here, man! I don't understand this! You've always hated it here. You don't know any fucking body."

"That's what makes it perfect."

Those were the words that seemed to really sink in with Trace and when he stomped out, promising to be back, I went to follow him.

"Trev." Justin barely whispered the words but they stopped me right in my tracks.

When I looked back at him I knew there was no way I could say no to him.

"Stay."

After the door slammed closed Justin inched toward me like a scared young man. For a flicker of a second I could see the man I'd seen on the roof the first night. That scared the shit out of me. So much that I let him wrap his arms around my waist. So much that I grabbed him in my arms with the same desperation. I cared. God dammit, I cared so fucking much.

"I don't know how... To fix it." he whispered, burying his head in my shoulder.

"Fix what?" I whispered, desperately, "Just tell me, Justin."

I knew he wouldn't.

"I know this is the right thing to do. This is where I need to be. Here. With you."

I released him and looked up into his eyes. I was so close that I could see each time they sparkled with a new set of moisture, a new emotion. They spoke more than a thousand words.

"No, Justin. You belong in Los Angeles, with your family."

His hands squeezed against my waist and he didn't break my gaze, "Sometimes I wonder... How I could have tried to... To do that to myself..."

I shushed him, "We don't have to talk about that."

"I met you that night, Trevion, and everyday after that I just couldn't understand how I could have done that to myself when there are people... People like you out there."

I closed my eyes. Fuck. Don't say that. Fuck.

"You give me a taste for life. Nobody has ever done that for me. It's like, you made me understand why people want to live. Why they continue on even if they're lives are complete shit. How can I turn my back on someone that makes me feel that good?"

"It's not me, Justin. You're just saying that because I'm all you have. It's like a delusion. Shit, it is a delusion."

"It's not. You're the reason, Trev. You're the reason I'm standing here right now, and I'm forever thankf--"

"Justin... God..."

"I mean it, okay? Just take it, alright? Take it."

Alright, I'm taking it.

"Thank you."

I looked into his eyes and even though I hated it, I kind of ...Didn't.

Mercury's hair was bright red. I expected that. She smelled like my grandmother's old garden on the first day of spring. I wasn't surprised by that one, either. She did, however, actually have some intelligent things to say. That shocked the shit out of me. And we weren't sitting in the weird circle I imagined we would nor was she choking on spiritual beads with purple fingernails that were chipping at the edges. She was almost... normal. As normal as a person who willingly walked into my life could be, of course.

We actually had a lot to talk about and when she promised me that Burns would never hear about the things I told her we started talking about Justin.

A lot.

I so ashamed.

--

I left the office for the first time in a long time with a smile on my face. A geniuine happy smile. The expression felt so foreign against my skin that I felt like everybody who walked past me would think it was fake. So I let it fade. Brooding, just-don't-give-a-shit Trevion was back in full force. The fact that I would have to wrestle around with my fucking car wasn't helping keep the smile on my face, anyway.

I climbed into the seat, barely noticing the sound that it made, which was a toss up between a burp and a fart, becuase I was so used to it. The car had belonged to my great-great grandfather. Yes, that's right, my great-GREAT fucking grandfather. And boy was it living up to it's age. It burped, sputtered and basically bitched it's way from point A to point B whether they were 1 or 10 miles apart. I'd gotten used to the stares and the laughs. I mean, I was a poor college student, what am I supposed to be rolling in? A fucking Lexus? Nope, we're not all lucky enough to be Justin Timberlake.

I'd been thinking about him way too much lately. When I wasn't thinking about Justin, I was thinking about not thinking about him, which is basically the same damn thing. It had been almost three weeks since that night on the roof and it was actually getting easier to let myself call him my friend. Only in my head, of course. If I said it to his face I would never get rid of the kid.

"Common, baby... It's me, Trev... It's momma, start for momma."

I know, I KNOW, it's weird how I talk to my car but the shit works!

Or not.

I turned the key and my car sounded like it couched up a few racoons and damn near fell apart in certain areas before going completely dead.

"Fuck!"

I tried again.

"Shit!"

Third times a charm.

"Shit, mother fuck!"

For some reason, I just knew that, this time, my car wasn't going to start. It was done for. What can I say? It had a good life. Too bad my happiness had to be sacrificed so my great-great-grandfathers car could die a noble death. Somewhere in between getting pissed off and being damn near tears my eyes narrowed down the street where there was a pay phone at the seedy gas station that had been in that very spot since I was a kid. Call Justin and this will all be over, my heart told me. Call Justin and you're a dumber bitch than I thought, my brain countered.

"Burns!" I practically screamed. He would definitely give me a ride, "who needs Justin Timberlake?!" I cried, with a little too much releif as I jumped out of the car and hurried towards the wide double doors with Burns's named etched across them in a pretty font. I'd always wondered what that font was, but never remembered to ask him.

I ignored the sound of a honking horn, because I got a little too pissed off when I paid attention to them. Especially if the asshole laying on his steering wheel was making all that noise for no fucking reason. Like, someone is taking a right turn to slowly or dropping off their fucking kid at school. Honking your horn uncessarily is the rudest fucking thing, and so retarded. I guess you'll just DIE if you loose the two fucking seconds it takes to be patient with the other drivers.

As much as I tried, though, this horn, was getting on my nerves, and would not be ignored. Whatever it was, this dude was relentess. That or somebody had shot him in cold blood and his eight pound head had nowhere to go but the middle of his steering wheel. I turned around.

No such luck.

Justin smiled and it seemed to shine brighter underneath the jet black sunglasses he had on. A black hat was pulled low on his head and his black sleeves high on his elbows.

"Hi." I said, rolling my eyes and approaching the car, "You look like death."

"Aw, it's good to see you, too, Trev."

"Why are you wearing all of the black? Don't people usually do that when they want to look thinner?"

"It doesn't make me look thinner?"

"It does, and that's the last thing you need."

"You always bring on the charm... full force."

"Are you stalking me or what?"

"I know people."

"Burns." I mumbled, "I'm going to have to talk to him about telling you all of my business. You can stop smiling anytime now, I don't need to be convinced of your happiness like everyone else in America."

His smile dropped and I was relieved for the two seconds it stayed that way before growing back to light up his face, "And you're the only one I care to convince. How's that for irony?"

I shrugged.

"You need a ride?"

For the first time I noticed that he wasn't in his Expedition, "I knew something was different about you. You're just not the same guy without your 'I'm-a-big-man" SUV."

"I needed a change of pace."

I looked towards the sky, "Of course, and I'm sure this change of pace only put you back a few grand as opposed to several. I'm impressed."

"Actually, I got a pretty good deal on it."

I raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Really. They're always willing to work with you on birthdays."

My eyes widened, "Today is your birthday?!"

"No... it's yours."

I stared at him. Literally stared until I realized how stupid I must have looked, "Who told you that?"

"I think the question, Trev, is why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not important."

"Of course it is, it's the day of your birth."

"I'm sorry. I just can't honestly support an institution that involves taking a baby from the womb and throwing it into the pits of hell we like to call humanity. It's just... it's vicious and wrong."

He took off his glasses and sqiuinted up at me, "It's not so bad, life is what you make it."

"I'm inspired."

"I can tell." He said.

"Well... I guess you could give me a ride since you're here and all."

Without moving a musle, he disarmed the locks on the dainty little convertable and smiled when I began making my way to the passengers side, "This is one pixy little car. Strangely, it fits you."

"You want to drive?"

I stopped outside of the passenger door and frowned, "and risk crashing this thing? I wont be able to pay for it, Justin."

"You wont crash it."

"You don't know that."

"Why wont you drive?"

"Why WOULD I?"

The smile that crossed his face made me nervous. VERY nervous. He took the keys out of he ignotion and the car came to a smooth, even hault. My car hadn't done that in years. He swung the keyring from his middle finger and, after a minute, flung them at me. Surprisingly, since I can't catch for shit, they landed in my hand, perfectly. I eyed the keys, then looked back up at him. Yep, the smile was still there.

He adjusted the baseball cap on his head and winked, "It's yours."

He was NOT serious. Was he? No. I squinted at him, then down at the keys. Was he?

"Happy Birthday, Trev!" He beamed, smiling up at me like a proud mother would at her daughter. His smile quickly fell, I'm sure because he recognized my expression, "What?"

"I can't take this..." I whispered. I was truely shocked, and that didn't happen often. Nobody had ever gone out of their way for me. Never done anything this genuinely NICE. For no reason, "I don't get it. I just... I wont take this, Justin."

"Why?"

"Why? WHY? Because you've know me for three weeks and this is a... a..." I hurried to the back of the car, ignoring him as he climbed out of the drivers seat. When my eyes focused on the emblem, I almost threw up, "BMW?! You SICK fuck!"

"It's a nice vehicle. Brand new, top of the fucking-line, Trev."

Yes, he was definitely sick.

"Justin, I have my Beetle."

"Which was on it's last leg thirty years ago. Common, Trevion, it's your birthday, let me do this for you."

"No."

"I want to."

"NO! Justin, I'm not your family, I'm not your girlfriend, I'm barely your friend! I can't accept this and, oh yeah, you're insane."

"Do you not like the color? Because for a few hundred we can get it painted."

"Justin, people are already saying that I'm the reason you and Britney aren't together anymore. Buying me a car is not exactly going to sway those rumors, you following me?"

"You know, it's only a matter of time before people start asking for your autograph."

"That would be just... gross."

He laughed. I didn't.

"Look, it's not just for you. I'm tired of spending up all of my gas money. It's your turn to start driving me around and I'd prefer not to do it in the death vehicle. The insect is dead, Trev."

It's a beetle, my mind said, childishly. "Do you think I'm joking?"

"No, but I know you well enough to know you're just doing this because you feel like you have to."

"No, Justin, if you knew me, you would have never bought this car." I said, pushing the keys against his chest until he accepted them.

"Trev..."

He continued to call after me as I headed to my yellow Beetle and I ignored him the entire way. I climbed in and tried to start it. For the first time in years I felt a true and real fury towards the vehicle for not starting. I felt like that damn car KNEW that Justin was there and wasn't starting just to piss me off. You've failed me , my beloved Beetle. I sighed and closed my eyes, leaning back against the seat. When I felt the car tilt on my side I shook my head, but didn't open my eyes.

"Why are you so afraid of me, Trevion?"

"Because you're crazy."

"No, seriously."

I opened an eye at him, "Seriously, Justin."

"You saved my life, you've tolerated me all this time, you've given me a reason. The least I could do is this. It's just a fucking car, I could buy ten more of them if I wanted to. You need it and I wanted you to have it. Plus, it's your birthday, which you weren't even going to tell me about."

"When it's somebody's birthday, Justin, you buy them a fucking card not the second highest rated vehicle in America!"

"Is it the second?"

"I don't know!" I beamed, covering my face with my hands.

He laughed, he actually laughed. Sometimes I just wanted to punch him.

I tried to start my car, again, nothing.

"What is it that you don't like, Trev? Is it because it's a BMW?"

"That's part of it, but not all of it. It's a fucking car, Justin, and you've known me for three weeks. To spend that much money on me on a birthday I didn't even want you to know about clearly shows that... you don't know me, at all. And, as far as I'm concerned, you have to know somebody to spend-- how much did you spend?-- You know what? Don't even answer, I don't want to know."

"So say I went to the dealership today, saw the BMW, said 'No... Trev would never go for that', and decided to keep it for myself before going to the used car section. There I would pick out a white, four door Volkswagon Passat... would you feel better about it? Would that be more you?"

I looked at him, "You're being uncessarily detailed about it, but, possibly... yes."

"Oh..." He said, looking away from the window while nodding his head, "Do me a favor, Trev, and look to your immediate right, would you?"

What was he doing?

He smiled when he saw my expression and nodded his head, "Go 'head."

I was afraid, but I looked to my right, anyway. I'd like to say that I wasn't surprised, but I was. What surprised me the most, though, about the brand new, four door, white Volkswagon Passat parked next to me, was the person sitting in the drivers seat, waving. I hated Trace so much that he almost ruined the entire surprise element, but somehow, he didn't. Justin, obviously, had proven his point. He did know me better than I thought he did.

"So I guess you and Trace made up?"

He grinned, "Yeah."

"Bummer."

"Probably, but how about that car, huh?"

I rolled my eyes and when I went to open my mouth Justin clapped his hand over it.

"Trev, take the car."

I frowned and pushed his hand away, "But-"

Justin closed his eyes, ever so patiently, "Take the car."

"Justin--"

"Trev!" He cried before holding his hands in front of him to calm himself. After several seconds a smile pushed his face. It was so convinced that if I hadn't seen the real deal I would have fallen for that beam in a second.

"Take the fucking car."

Okay, it was obvious he wasn't going to ease up on this.

And, fuck if I couldn't use that fucking car.

--

"What would you have done if your little plan had failed and I liked that BMW that you bought for yourself?"

"I would have let you have it."

"What about the Passat?"

"Tax write off."

"Have I mentioned that you make me sick?"

"Only twice in the last hour, you're getting soft."

I poked my lips out, unwilling or unable to come up with some kind of retort. As I fingered the hood of my new Passat that pout turned to a smile as I looked up at him, "Thank you, I love it."

Justin blinked, then grabbed his heart.

"Don't do it, Lake."

He took a deep breath, then smiled, "Alright, I'm too nice of a guy to mention that what you just said was almost... nice. Because I know you would hate that." He grinned and leaned against the car next to me. I seriously counted down the seconds between the silence because I knew it wouldn't last, "I think my heart stopped when I heard the words "thank you" and "love" come out of your mouth in the same sentence. That was a double positive, Trev, I almost didn't recognize you."

"You're a funny guy." I mumbled, allowing him to wrap his arm around my shoulder, "I hope you enjoyed that because you'll never see it again."

"I've got it all right here," He pointed to his temple, "From the day we met."

"Okay... that's not creepy or weird, at all."

"I'm immune to your sarcasm."

"Damn, then I guess I'm really going to have to double it up on the bitchness."

"I can handle your bitchiness."

"Then I guess I'm going to have to be nice all the fucking time."

He blinked, "Now that... is scary."

I sighed, "Yeah, if only I could pull it off."

"If only." He said, "Febuary 10." He beamed, looking up at the stars.

I rolled my eyes, "Feel free to forget it."

"I never will."

"Try."

"It's four days before Valentines day."

I laughed and stepped away from the car, facing him, "Was this car some kind of a bribe, huh? To make me feel guilty and incapable of saying no if you asked me to be your valentine?"

He looked at me like I was crazy, "No."

"You don't have to pretend, Justin."

"Whatever."

"I know what you're doing right now, and it wont work."

He frowned, "Okay, then."

"Oh, Justin, please, please forgive me. I love my new car, I love you, will you please be my valentine? I'll make it worth your while." I laughed after my stupid attempt as a joke but when I saw the look on his face it wasn't so funny, anymore, "Justin?"

"Yes." He said, a smile finally breaking his previously serious face.

"Huh?"

"Yes, I'll be your Valentine."

"I wasn't asking."

"You just did."

"That was a JOKE. Freak."

He pushed himself off of the car and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, again, leading me towards the dorms, "Oh, Trev, you don't have to pretend."

"Fuck you."

"Be my guest." He looked down at me and when I didn't respond he stopped walking and grabbed my shoulders, "Shit, I almost forgot. Um... Don't get mad, okay?"

"Don't give me a reason to." I said, forcing a smile.

He sighed deeply and reached into the pocket of his jacket. After he pulled out some kind of a contraption he reached over and slipped it into my own. A smile as bright as the sun crossed his face when this was over, "I left you a little something in your pocket."

"This is endlessly cute." I said, dryly, sticking my hand into the pocket of my leather jacket. It was small, solid and defintiely some sort of electrical device, "Justin..."

"Just... wait to see what it is before you decide you hate it."

"It hate this. Burns doesn't even get me things for my birth... oh..." The cell phone that I pulled out of my pocket looked suspiciously like the one Justin had smashed against his wall days earlier.

"I bought it a few days ago before I even knew about your birthday, I swear. I broke my other one, went to the store to buy a new one and decided that you might want one, as well. So we can, you know..."

I stared at him, "No."

"Call each other."

"Is that what phones do?"

"When we're lonely."

"You can't be lonely for a person that you see fifteen hours out of the day."

"I can. I am."

I sighed, "If I take the phone will the sap stop?"

"Yes."

I shoved it in my pocket desperately.

"I've already got my number programmed in there, and yours in mine, so don't worry."

"Thank goodness, I can sleep easy tonight."

He really was immune to my sarcasm because my assy remarks were rolling off of his back like jello, "Let's do something fun. For your birthday."

"Justin, you've bought me a car, a cell phone and forced me into being your Valentine. That's enough birthday fun to last me decades."

"A birthday should be celebrated until the very last second."

I cringed, "It's getting harder and harder to tell when you're serious."

"I know. I learned that from you."

"I'm going to have to watch myself from now on."

"Do you want to go ice skating?"

"You're not joking." I said, "This is the part where I pretend not to hear you."

"Movies."

I cringed.

"Bowling."

Bowling, I hadn't been bowling in such a long time.

"THAT was a joke, but you like to bowl, huh? Don't deny it, I can see it on your face."

"You don't want to bowl against me. You will walk out of the alley shamed and embarrased."

"Don't be so sure. I've done a little bowling in my time."

"Justin, I'm telling you."

"What, Trev? What are you? Are you scared? Is da wittow baby scared?"

I stared at him, then smiled, "Nope--nope, it's not working on me."

"Come ON."

"Fine! But I'm just trying to warn you. You are going to get your ass kicked, okay? I'm not the kind of girl who is going to lose just to spare your ego."

"Believe me, Trevion, nobody will ever know that better than I do."

--

Stike.

Strike!

Strike!

We were on the tenth frame and this kid got a fucking strike, which, of course, since god hates me, was the only thing in the world that could have possibly saved him from the ass beating he'd been recieving from me the entire game. One more and I was jello, man.

Even though it was at my expense, the fact that this was all putting a smile on Justin's face just about killed me. In the three weeks I'd known him, it had become crystal clear that he was not the smiling, squeaky clean, bubbly pop star he'd been made out to be for years. He was an actual person with an opinion, thoughts and feelings. He was a person that was in pain and it showed. Justin didn't smile a whole lot, but when he did...

I melted.

The strike, of course, brought the ugly, obnoxious side out in him, and it would do that to anyone, so I tried not to hold it against him.

He turned to me, sitting behind the score screen, put his hands on his knees and let out to loudest, most irritating laugh I think I've ever heard in my life.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH-HAHAHAHAHA-HA-HA-HAAA!" He stopped to take a breath.

I thanked god it was over.

Except that it wasn't.

He exhaled one last time, pointed a finger at me and...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH-HAHAHAHAHA-HA-HA-HAA!"

I gritted my teeth, "You're drawing attention to yourself."

"Yeah? Well, you're losing! Whooo! 292 to 281, light the turkey, Trev is done!" He bust out into a stupid little dance and it was all I could do not to throw my nachos at him.

"I hope you get attacked by all of the teenies. People are STARING, Justin. That dude is taking pictures over there."

The smile fell from his face as he looked across the alley at the guy who was, indeed, taking pictures. I wasn't lying. He looked angry for a moment, then looked at me, and the smile was back, again. This time, it was accompanied by the cabbage patch.

He plopped into the seat next to me, all smiles, completely ignoring or unaware at the look of disgust I gave him, "Don't fuck it up, Trevion, or you're gonna lose."

I stared at him, he stared right back. "I never knew you were this competitive. I don't like it."

"I don't like it either, but I can't help it. Now COMMON!"

I jumped and hurried out of my seat due to the simple fact that he was freaking me out and pissing me off. There was nothing I hated more than gloaters. Mainly because gloaters made me want to beat them at whatever sport we were playing so badly that I ended up getting too excited and messing up. I HAD to beat Justin. I had to. Right now I was the only person in the world who had the power to wipe that gooofy smile off of his face. He was so sure he was going to win. I felt like it was my life's duty to beat his ass. Not just beat him, but beat his ASS into the GROUND.

I guess I was a little competitive, too.

But it was so much cuter on me.

I grabbed the ball I'd been using the whole game. The 5 pound, hot pink, children's ball. I had to use that ball because everything else was too heavy for me. Justin had teased me mercilessly, of course. I had one chance to get a strike, then another. If I could do that then I would win. The urge to use my powers was just about eating me alive. My entire body was almost physically rejecting my brain, which was telling me to play fair. Justin's managed to keep up with you fair and square, so you have to beat him fair and square.

Besides, I never cheat.

I took my position, holding the ball steady with my left hand right at the tip of my nose and positioning my feet. Everything had to be perfect if I was going to win, fair and square. And I was going to win, fair and square. I looked back at Justin, he was biting his nails, examining the screen but when he saw me looking he smiled and shook his head as if I had no chance. Fair and square, Trevion, my brain persisted, fair and square.

I shimmied up to the lane and prepared to toss the ball.

"Don't miss, don't miss, don't miss, don't miss, don't miss..."

I looked back at Justin and he quickly snapped his head toward the ceiling.

Dude, he's like... five years old right now.

I turned away from him and took a deep breath, doing my signature shimmy, yet again.

"AH!" Justin's screamed.

I tripped on my left foot and watched as the ball fell sloppily out of my hand and onto the alley. That little shit!

Oh, hell no, fuck fair and square!

The hot pink ball, which was teetering on the edge of the gutter made a miraculous little spin right back into the middle of the lane where it rolled, with impressive speed might I add, into the pins for a beautiful strike. I squealed and jumped up and down, clapping my hands in excitment.

"Allllll-right!" I beamed. Yeah, way too much Family Guy.

Justin looked unimpressed.

"What, you're not happy for me, Justin? Huh? Scared you're about to be beat by a wittow bitty guwl?"

"You cheated." He spat. I swear, you'd think this was the NBA fucking playoffs.

I tried to look offended, "How... DARE you accuse me of that!" I beamed, turning my back to him and preparing to take my winning shot.

"Oh no!" He beamed from behind me. Before I could hurry up and toss the ball I felt both of his arms wrap around mine, tightly. He squeezed me just enough that it didn't hurt but it sure as hell didn't feel good. The hot pink ball fell from my hand and I screamed when I felt my feet leave the ground.

"Justin! Oh my god, what are you doing?!"

"You fucking cheated, admit it." He whispered in my ear.

I frowned, "You know, I'm starting to believe that this whole tortured, stalked, I'm-such-a-victim celebrity act you put on is so fake! You love the attention! You seriously don't care that every-fucking-body is looking at us, right now."

"You're right, I don't care." he whispered.

"I DO." I whispered back, "Put me DOWN, Justin."

"No, admit you cheated."

To everyone around us, this was probably cute, but to me, it was not. Poor Justin. He probably had no idea that he would surely die for this later.

"I did not cheat, and I can't breathe!"

He released me, and, when I was on my feet, crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm not letting you take that shot."

I almost wanted to laugh, but I wanted to win more, "Oh, I'm taking that shot."

He grabbed the ball up with one hand and raised an eyebrow. He was just getting cockier by the second, "You're going to have to take it from me, first."

"Oh, Justin. Are you really trying to get your ass kicked twice in one day? Save some for later, dude." I reached for the ball and when he pulled it away, I chuckled. "I think you're underestimating me."

"Ditto." He said, smiling, "I'll give you to ball when you admit it, that I'm just as good of a bowler as you."

"Never."

"Common, I wont judge you."

"Yes you will. Fucking liar."

"No credit, no ball."

"You have to EARN your credit from me, baby."

He sighed.

Okay, so it was like that, huh? Alright.

I took a look around me. Most of the bowlers around us had gone back to their games, which was good, because I wasn't so for everyone looking at me like Justin was.

"Fine." I said, holding my hands up in surrender as I walked away from the lane, "Fine, Justin."

Dumb ass, he actually though I was going to say it. He set the ball down in between his feet and crossed his arms over his chest expectantly.

The second I saw the opportunity I rushed him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. Now I wasn't a big girl, but I knew that I couldn't have been light, either. I assumed if I jumped on someone who didn't expect it, like Justin at the very moment, they would surely go crashing to the ground.

And he surely did.

Justin's back hit the ground with me on top of him and he groaned. One of his hands left my thigh to touch the back of his head and I took that moment to jump off of him and crawl- yes crawl- over to the hot pink ball. I had it down the lane just in the nick of time because, in the same second, Justin had found his footing and leapt for it just as it left my fingers. Of course, it was a strike, because I made it happen.

"Yes!" I cried, looking at Justin, who was sprawled next to me on the bowling alley floor, defeated.

I jumped to my feet, legs spread, and threw my arms above my head, "Yeah! Yes, alright! Who's the shit?! Who's the winner!? YEAH!"

Everyone was staring now. REALLY staring, but I didn't care.

I won!

My eyes narrowed to Justin, who was on his back. He should have been angry, I would have been, but he wasn't. He was trying to frown but, to no avail, a smile broke his face. And, because of this, a smile broke mine, too. For a moment, we were in our own little world. Where there were no tabloids, no college, no JC, no Kim and no Britney. Just me and Justin.

"Um, excuse me?" A young girl approached, "Aren't you Trevion?"

"Uh... yeah."

"Oh.. can I have your autograph?!"

My face dropped. When I looked back at Justin he was, literally, dying of laughter.

And now we're back.

"Yeah, can I get a Ruttie Tootie Fresh and Fruity with a glass of orange juice, please? No straw. Thank you." JC handed his menu to the waiter, who shoved in into the large pocket of his apron before riveting his eyes on me.

"Water." I said, coldly, handing him my menu, as well. I hadn't even realized what a bitch I was being until I saw the look he was giving me. When my eyes narrowed to JC and I saw that grin on his face I suddenly had a change of heart. Hey, my stomach was growling, I was a poor college student and, like Justin, he was rich. May as well mooch off of this asshole as much as I could, "Actually can I have what he's having as well as the buttermilk pancakes, T-Bone steak, extra eggs, scrambled, extra hash browns, the chicken tenders with barbeque sauce, your club sandwich and two glasses of lemonade?" I smiled at the look of horror on the waiter's face and patted my stomach, "Going to need something to wash all of that down."

The waiter was not amused and I didn't blame him. I would hate me, too, if I was him. I felt very regrettable when he walked away from the table, simply because that meant I had to be alone with JC.

"Do you usually eat that much? I don't know where you put it." He said, laughing.

I remained stoic, "I have a special compartment in my stomach for the days I want to spend up as much of a rich asshole's money as I possibly can."

He raised his eyebrows. Even though he'd been receiving them since the minute he introduced himself he was still bothered by my quips.

Good.

"Besides, this is IHOP. I highly doubt you're going to break the bank this morning."

"I guess." He said, smiling at our waiter and accepting the drinks he'd prepared so quickly, "Thank you." he took a sip, "Mm... now, Trevion." He said, folding his arms in front of him on the table.

People didn't recognize JC as much as they did Justin. If he had ever had the balls to step into a place like this we'd have been getting all kinds of stares ten minutes ago.

"Is that why you did it?" I whispered, my eyes still searching the restaurant.

He seemed confused, "Did what?"

I looked back at him, my arms crossed over my chest, lips pulled tight, "Is that why you fucked Justin's girlfriend? You resent him?"

"What in the world gave you that idea?"

I looked around us. This was a restaurant two miles off campus, filled with young people. Not a soul looked in our direction. Nobody knew him, nobody cared.

"It's got to bother you that Justin gets all of the attention."

He seemed surprised at my observation.

I smiled, "It's okay. I know it, you know it, everybody knows it. NSync may as well change their names to Justin and the 'she's'. A lot of people say that it's better to come in third than to come in second because at least when you're in third you don't torture yourself with that fact that if you'd just done something a little different... if you just had that extra special something you'd be the one in first instead of the other guy. Jealousy can drive people to do crazy things. Maybe you fucked Justin's girlfriend because you wanted to hurt him. Because that was the only thing you could think of that would make you number one."

He sat, silently.

"Am I right?" I took a sip of my lemonade, "Hm? JC?"

His lips pursed together and looked almost white. His fists were clenched in front of him on the table.

"Is that why I found him on the roof of my fucking dorm about to kill himself?" I whispered, quickly getting worked up. "Can you see anything past your jealousy? Do you even have any idea what an amazing fucking person he is? How much so many people would have lost had he succeeded in taking his life that night? You KNEW about it, and didn't do a DAMN thing."

"I knew about it, but I didn't know where he was. What the fuck could I do?"

"Oh, well, excuse me, I guess we can just call it a day, then. Let's not forget, JC, that you fucked Britney."

"That was..." He couldn't seem to find the words so he just looked away, shaking his head.

"I'm disgusted that you have the fucking nerve to cry. If you shed one tear I swear to god..." I shook my head, "I will turn this bitch into a Lifetime movie and throw this entire drink in your face. I'll do it." I said, raising my eyebrows as I took another sip.

"Are you done?" He asked.

"No." I said, crossing my arms over his chest, "How did you know? Earlier today? How did you know that Justin tried to kill himself?"

"You don't know?"

"Obviously, I don't fucking know or I wouldn't be asking."

He sighed. "I've got to be honest, I can see why he likes you."

"Well, that makes one of us."

"Personally, I think you're extremely insecure and way too angry for your own good."

"Oh, yeah? Join the fucking club. Answer the question."

"How did I know he was going to kill himself?"

"Is there an echo in here, or what?"

JC leaned on his elbows, "What happened with me and Britney was not because of jealousy. It was not because of hate. Their relationship was not on the rocks. Me and her had never had any real attraction or chemistry to each other and the whole thing wasn't some master plan to ruin Justin's life. When it happened we thought he was in Canada, but he wasn't. It just..." he looked away from me, but I could still see the tears in his eyes.

I ALMOST felt sorry for him and I had no one to blame for that but Justin. Before he'd come along I was capable of not giving a damn, especially for crying men. Things were very different now. I was different.

"It just fucking happened." He reached for the napkin on the table and covered his entire face with it, "For the rest of my life there will never be a day that I wish it didn't... but it did."

I stared at him.

"What you don't know." He said, pointing a finger at me, "Is that Justin tried to kill himself before he even made the decision to come to Vegas."

I raised an eyebrow.

"The magazines say that Britney spun off of the road, Justin probably told you that she was following him, she wasn't. He was following her."

My heart was suddenly pounding against my chest and with every word he said I felt like I was losing the control in this conversation. I was terrified of what he was going to say because Justin had, indeed, told me that Britney had followed him after he caught she and JC together.

"He called my cellphone right as it was happening." He paused, his voice broken, "He..." Unable to speak, he looked away from me again, "I got in my car and I tried to make it to where they were but there was no way... they were almost to Malibu and I was in North Hollywood."

At the feeling or tears in my own eyes, I surprised myself. Only because I couldn't figure out who I wanted to cry for, JC or Justin.

"He was going to run her car off of the road and then do the same to himself."

My mouth sat agape.

"Then he thought about Hannah... that's what they were going to name their girl... Hannah." He paused, "So, he stopped the car. Britney kept going. About two miles up the road is where she crashed. She lost the baby. She almost died, it was... It was fucking awful."

I couldn't think of anything to say. I couldn't even breathe.

"Everybody thinks that Britney crashed in her rush to catch and reassure Justin, but that's not the truth. She's in the hospital and stable but she can't remember anything that happened. Doctors don't think she ever will."

"How the hell do you know this is how it happened?"

He smiled a tiny, pitiful smile, "Because he told me."

I raised an eyebrow, "And you haven't told anybody?"

"No, I haven't. I wont."

"Why?"

His blue eyes met mine and for the first time, I felt like I could understand him. "Because, I love him."

Those words did it. The first tear fell down my cheek due to the simple fact that I knew Justin loved him, too, but they would probably never talk again. It felt like such a waste. Two people that genuinely cared for each other barred from expressing that emotion by the extremely unfortunate circumstances.

JC sniffled and touched the tip of his nose, "It's always nice to hear the whole story, Trevion, before you decide who the bad guy really is."

I watched him, but didn't say a word. Burns had always taught me that there were three sides to every story. Your side, their side, and the truth. For some reason, it was easy to believe the words JC was saying. I understood where he was coming from but I was completely biased. He would always be the bad guy, and there was nothing he or anyone else could say to make that different. Justin was the one I cared for, I was on his side, through thick and thin.

"That doesn't change the fact that you fucked Britney."

"No, but it doesn't change the fact that he tried to kill her, his unborn child and himself, either."

"I doubt he was mentally capable under the circumstances. How can you think straight after some shit like that?"

JC just shrugged, "I don't know."

"You're right." I said, "You don't know."

The waiter presented us with our food and needed three other people to help him set the plates on the table. I'm sure the tears in mine and JC's eyes were freaking them the hell out but I honestly didn't care.

"Thank you." I said to all of them. "Look, JC, I had breakfast with you, I listened and I'm going to think about everything. You promised if I did that you would stay away from Justin."

"I always keep my word." He said, clasping his hands.

"And I don't mean just leave Justin alone. I mean, leave the city. Please?"

"Wow, that sounded like desperation. It isn't good for your complexion."

"Yeah? Neither is a fat lip, don't test me."

He leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised. "Of course not. Besides, like you said, Trevion, I don't have a death wish and I do know Justin a little better than you do. I know that he needs time, an indefinite amount of time. I'm a patient man, and I can wait."

I rolled my eyes before grabbing my purse, "I'm gonna go."

Of course, I grabbed a sausage link on my way out.

My fucking stomach was killing me.

--

It might have been all of the standing up for Justin excitement or the fact that I was too busy trying to beat JC into the ground with my words, but I hadn't realized how thoroughly pissed off I was until I was almost back to campus. Why had Justin lied to me? I'd been completely truthful with him that night about my life and he'd lied straight to my face. The guy was constantly going on about trust in our relationship. I mean... constantly.

Strangely enough, I was the only one of us who had been fucking truthful through this whole thing.

The entire ride home I tried to think of reasons that would justify his lying to me but it was hard. I could barely come up with two. When I'm consumed with anger, though, thinking straight isn't my strong point. Obviously, I couldn't ask him why he'd lied to me, because then he'd know that I had been talking to JC.

And... that would be bad.

Surprisingly, on my way to the dorms I made a u-turn on Las Vegas Blvd. A u-turn that led straight to Justin's apartment-hotel-condo-house-whatever the fuck.

I pulled my Passat up to valet, not thinking about that fact that I would actually have to PAY those people until I was on the elevator to Justin's floor.

"Fuck." I said, reaching into my back pocket. I had three dollars. The dinging of the elevator ripped me away from my money woes and I stepped off and took the route to Justin's apartment that I knew so well. The hallways in that place were gorgeous. They were what I loved most. For one reason or another, it seemed brighter and friendlier than my dorms and I always hated leaving it.

My boots heaved against the pretty floor, noisily, until I was standing in front of his door. When I knocked I began looking through my purse for my phone. Odds were, he was in the shower.

He was always in the shower.

"Fucking neat freak." I said, dialing the number to his phone, which I knew he sat on the toilet while he was showering. Halfway into the first ring, to my surprise, the door swung open and I jumped, "Whoa!" I beamed, taking a step back.

Trace tried to smile, but it fell, quickly. I could appreciate that, at least he wasn't being fake.

"Oh." I said, my voice dropping a few decibels, "It's you."

"It is. Justin hasn't gotten rid of you, yet?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"It's been almost twenty years. You'll be gone before I will."

The truth behind his words startled me more than I ever thought they could, "Yeah, well, I can't remember when I've had more fun, but... where's Justin?"

"He's in the shower." Trace finalized.

"Shocking. Tell him to get out."

"Can't you just come back later?"

"Um." I pretended to think, "No."

He looked at me like I was crazy before rolling his eyes, "Fine, common in."

"I'm good."

"Fine." He held his hand up in a very "talk to the hand" fashion before making his way towards Justin's room, "Bitch."

"I heard that you fucking twerp."

Twerp? Lame. Is it me or does it say something that I have horrible relationships with everyone Justin is or used to be close to? It made me wonder about how I would have gotten along with Britney if none of this had happened. Or if his mother would like me. I wasn't a mean person, after all, JC and Trace had, simply, provoked my anger. Trace because he was a, simple as that, asshole. JC because he'd hurt Justin. I'm sure if I'd met Justin's mother, who'd done nothing but raise him into the amazing man he was today, that we'd get along fine.

Hopefully.

At that moment I realized that I was actually entertaining the thought of meeting Justin's parents. Sometimes I scared myself at all the new shit my brain was allowing me to think.

"Trev?"

Dude, I am really good and completely zoning out and being oblivious to everything going on around me, even if it's standing right in front of me, half naked.

When my eyes met Justin's, I noticed that he had finally shaved, and how soft it made his face look. I noticed that his hair looked almost black when it was wet. I noticed that he had nothing covering his moist body but a burgundy towel that was barely hanging on to his hips, which were perfectly toned, by the way. I couldn't complain about the pecs, either. Or the arms. The legs were a little skinny, but not repulsively so. They were very... Justin.

I noticed all of this, but none of it mattered, because just looking at him made me angry, all over again. The entire drive down there I'd been thinking of a smooth way to bring up his lies, but seeing him standing there made that all go flying out the window. That was always how it seemed to work with me and him.

He smiled and it was a real one that time. I could tell.

"Hey you. It's early, I didn't think you left your cave until, at least, ten."

I didn't respond.

He frowned, but continued talking. "I was just taking a shower and I was going to call you when I got out. Since you're here now, though, I have to ask, when you see a guy walking down the street, how important is it that his shoes be clean and fresh as opposed to--"

"Why did you lie to me?" I asked, clutching my purse strap under my hand and squinting my eyes quizzically up at him. I was trying to tell myself to stay calm and not start yelling and cussing until I had a real reason. I was actually nervous. That had never happened before.

Already flustered at being interrupted in the middle of his sentence, Justin shook his head, as if he were struggling to keep up. "What are you talking about?"

"You lied." I said, again.

He looked behind him, as if there was supposed to be someone there to help him, then back at me, "Huh?"

"Was Britney really following you? Or were you following her? That day in Malibu?"

The question seemed to awake something in Justin. Something that I had never seen in the three short weeks I'd known him. I wanted so badly for him to deny it and make JC a liar, but, somehow, I knew that wasn't how it was going to happen. I knew JC had told me nothing but the truth. When Justin swallowed hard and closed his eyes that was all the answer I needed, "Trev."

"Did you try to kill her, Justin?"

He opened his mouth to speak.

"Her and Hannah? That's what you were going to name your daughter, right? Hannah?"

I know, I was being unbelievably stupid right now but I seriously could not help it. My emotions were doing the talking for me. When he didn't seem in a big hurry to give me any real response, I felt my heart pounding faster against my chest.

"So, it's true." I said, "You lied."

For the first time since I'd met him the sight of his bottom lip trembling didn't phase me.

"I've been honest with you from the start... about everything."

He cringed, "I know."

"You were really going to run her off of the road? Really?"

He opened his mouth.

"God, you know what? Don't even answer. I don't want it to ruin..." I frowned, "This fucking pedestal I've put you on. So, just don't."

"Trev, please... come in, alright?" He held the towel steady on his waist while reaching his arm out towards me. When I stepped away his entire face broke. "Trev." He begged, his eyes squeezing into slits, "Come inside so we can talk."

"So you can tell me a few more lies? Shove a little more bullshit down my dumb ass throat? Must have been a happy day for you when you realized how easy it would be to manipulate me, huh?"

"No."

"No? No? You know what? That sounds good. No, Justin, I wont fucking come in. I don't even want to be near you right now. And put some fucking clothes on."

I was enjoying the view way more than I should have.

His arm dropped against his side and, after a minute, he held it back out in front of him, "Who... who told you this?"

"I read it... in a magazine. Never thought it would be true."

Wow... that was actually convincing. That was actually a lie. How big of a hypocrite am I, huh?

"Come in the house." He asked again, stepping to the side, "Please."

"No."

"Please, Trev."

I looked at him, "No, Justin. What's so fucking hard about that?" I stepped away from him and turned to leave.

"Can I come by later?" He called.

I turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow, "Come by later?"

He sighed, "Yeah. When I'm not wearing a towel?"

"No."

"Can I call you?"

"I'm thinking, hell no."

"No?"

"No."

"How long until you're ready to talk to me?"

I didn't stop walking and tapped my chin, "Hmm, I'm thinking... um, never."

"Why are you walking away from me right now? Come back!"

"No!"

"No?!"

"No!" Right when I was about to get into the elevator, a light when on in my head. I did a double take and marched back up to his door, a determined scowl on my face, "You know what the fuck you can do for me right now, Justin?"

"Anything."

"You can give me ten bucks. I parked valet."

His face clearly conveyed that he was wondering whether or not I was serious. When he finally realized I was, he walked away from the door. A few minutes later, he returned, shuffling through his wallet. When he pulled out a hundred and tried to stick it in my jacket pocket I stepped away.

"Don't be stupid."

"Take it."

"This isn't Pretty Woman."

"But, you love that movie."

"You're only cute when you're not trying to be... the way you are now. You can't buy me."

"Yet, you're asking me for money?"

"I have no choice. I've been hanging around with you for too long and, in my Timberlake stupor, I actually forgot that I'm broke and handed my keys to the valet. The fact that I was pissed off and wanted to get up here as soon as possible explains my temporary loss of sense, as well. I think it's an understandable mistake that wont happen, again."

"You could park valet everywhere you went if you let me help you out."

"I don't need help."

"You're barely getting by. I know you're taking on a student loan that you can't afford."

"Fucking Burns." I mumbled, looking away. I looked back at him, extremely agitated. "Is he handing out a Trevion Spencer information packet that I'm not aware of, or what?"

"It's not like I'm getting any information from you."

"Oh, that's rich. Listen to the judgment from the dude who's been lying this entire time! Who the hell knows what else you've been lying about! Is your name really Justin Timberlake? Was that car you bought me paid for legally or with the money you make selling crack, as a side job? Is Trace really your best friend? Or is he an accomplice in some extremely elaborate plan to send my life into a fucking tailspin?!"

"Trev, you're being ridiculous."

"At least I'm not a liar."

"I'm not--"

"Don't even--" I held my hand up and jammed my eyes shut. "Don't even deny it, because you'll just be lying, again, you fucking... liar!"

Damn, I had to tighten up on my insults.

"I haven't been--" He sighed, then rolled his eyes. "I can help you pay that loan." He insisted, obviously desperate to change the subject. "I thought you told me you had a scholarship."

"I do have a scholarship, but that doesn't mean everything is free. You have to consider the I have books, dorm rooms and food to pay for. Jesus Christ, I wish I could live in your pretty little world for one fucking day. It's got to be like heaven over there."

"Well, I assume there's no such thing as debt in my world, but that's true of all heavens."

"Are you seriously trying to make jokes, right now?"

"You're practically crucifying me for trying to make your life a little easier. Damn, I'm such a fucking monster!"

"That's insulting."

"Why?!"

"I don't need your help, Justin. You cannot buy me... okay?"

"I don't want to buy you. I want you..." he paused, "I want you happy."

"And that involves giving me money? Yet again, Donald Trump, you can't buy me."

"Donald Trump is actually in debt so the comment you just made holds no real--"

"Stop talking."

"I'm not trying to buy you."

"That's funny, because it seems like you are, which is such a colossal waste of your time, since I'm not that kind of girl."

"That's obvious since I just got finished buying you a car and we're in the middle of a fight not even twenty-four hours later."

"That is exactly why I didn't want that fucking car, in the first place. Is this what you're going to do? Make me feel bad about it every day for the rest of my life?"

"Are you going to make me feel bad about what happened with Britney? Something that I could hardly control? Something that happened when I was out of my mind and going through a complete mental breakdown? It goes both ways, Trev." he said, putting the hundred back into his wallet. He closed his wallet and sighed, "All I have is hundreds."

"What are you, selling crack as a side job, or what?"

"Didn't you already make that joke?"

I frowned. Did I?

"And, no, I took it out for Valentines." He said.

"Are you joking?"

He didn't flinch, "No."

"What did we talk about yesterday afternoon? A card, Justin. All I want is a card, alright? And that's if we even have a Valentines after the recent turn of events."

"I can't just buy you a card. That's not who I am."

I crossed my arms, "Well, as long as you're comfortable, that's all that matters."

"You'll like it... I promise."

"Well, that should be interesting since I don't even like you right now."

"You wont listen to what I have to say!"

"No, I wont."

Justin sighed and looked down at his wallet, shuffling through the bills.

"If you spend that money on me I'll never talk to you, again."

"So you were planning on talking to me, again?"

He smiled and that's when I realized that he was doing quite an impressive job of completely manipulating me.

"Don't try to play me." I warned.

"Why would I do that, Trev? You're too busy playing yourself."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"You tell me."

"Stop doing that! Fuck, I hate that!" I screamed, pointing at him. I was fully aware that I was losing the control in the conversation (for the second time that day), but could hardly find it in myself to care.

"That's what you do, Trevion, you play games."

"What? I've had one official boyfriend in my entire life and, according to my roommate, that doesn't even count because it was in the second grade. So, no, I'm not playing games. It's kind of hard to do that when you don't know the rules."

"Please, you're playing me right now, and you know it."

"What?"

"You got more game than Candyland."

It was at that moment that I came to my senses, and, as I watched him, it was difficult for me not to laugh in his face.

I had to take a step away from him to compose myself. Oh, he was good.

"I can see what you're doing, you asshole." I spat. "And I still haven't forgotten that you lied to me."

He grinned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The hell you don't."

"I don't understand you."

"No? Get in the back of the fucking line because I understand about this much..." I pinched my fingers together, "about you. And that's assuming this is the only thing you've lied to me about."

"I think you're being a little hypocritical."

"I think you're about to get punched in the nose."

"You're saying you've never lied to me, Trevion?"

"Never."

"Not once?"

"No."

"About anything?"

"NO."

"Look me in the eye... and tell me you've never lied to me."

I looked him in the eye, thankful that he didn't know how good of a liar I actually was.

"I have never lied to you, Justin."

"Liar."

I pointed at him. "You see, this is the shit I'm talking about. The games. I hate that shit."

"Trev--"

"No, you know what? You're pissing me off. I'm leaving and I still need money for valet."

"Funny how you flee when the skillet gets hot."

I held out my hand, refusing to look at him. "Money."

"Wait." he said, shuffling through this wallet before pulling out a card, "Use the Visa."

"Oh how nice. Two problems. One, I'm not the whore you hand your credit card to when you're on your way out of the suite for a business meeting. And two... your name is on it, shit for brains."

"They know about you..." He held it out. "They'll let you use it, don't worry."

"What makes you think I wont take your card and move to Jamaica?"

"I trust you."

I cringed, annoyed that he was getting to me, "I don't want your fucking money."

I went to walk away, again, then common sense took hold of my legs.

"Yes I do." I said, snatching the card from his outstretched had before hurrying down the hallway. I really did hate taking his money but if I hadn't there was no way in hell the valet would give me my car back with the few dollars I had in my own pocket. It wasn't until I heard his door close that I realized how he'd turned this whole thing around on me. I was barely mad, anymore, and he'd meant for it to happen that way. I just knew it. For a minute, he'd actually had me feeling like I was the asshole, since I'd yet to tell him about JC.

He was way too good.

When I made it out of the entrance and to the valet I held the card out to the young man, waiting for him to look at me like I was crazy. I mean, there I was, a broke college student with torn Levis and a pair of black boots with the zippers broken on both sides offering up a pop star's credit card.

"Um, it's the Passat."

"Of course, Miss, will you be leaving a tip, this morning?"

"Um, sure... five dollars, I guess. Actually, make that twenty. You know what? I'm suddenly feeling charitable. Fifty dollars." I said, smiling. Spending up Justin's money was making me feel much better.

"That's very kind of you, Miss." The valet said, his smile even wider as he clutched my card. He'd yet to take a look at the name of the cardholder.

In my head, I was imagining how many seconds it would take for the cops to get there once this guy came to the quick conclusion that I'd robbed Justin Timberlake and raided his wallet.

The young man, surprisingly, took the card from my hand with no question and headed around his little podium. My heart thudded as he punched around on the screen before him. Then he smiled at the screen, and I was slightly confused. "Ah... Mrs. Timberlake." He called, looking up at me and grinning wider.

I blinked and when I opened my mouth to correct him I couldn't even speak. Never in my life did I think I'd want to murder Justin as much as I did that moment. I could almost imagine the shit eating grin he must have had on his face when he'd decided to tell every worker in this place that I was his wife.

"Mrs. Timberlake?" The man asked, again, taking notice of the dumb fuck look I surely had on my face.

"I'm not--" He blinked at me, ever smiling. "I mean, my name isn't--"

He blinked, again.

I sighed and snatched the card. "Forget it."

His smile never faltered and he motioned to the lot as one of the workers pulled my car up to the curb, "Here we are, Mrs. Timberlake."

"Call me Trevion!" I insisted, holding my hands in the air, unable to take another second of it.

He seemed genuinely apologetic, "Forgive me, Mrs. Timberlake."

He held the door open for me and I climbed in, fighting not to laugh. If this was what it was like for whatever patient girl happened to get stuck with Justin, then I was happy for her. Being catered to and worshiped for nothing more than the man you married was a luxury I'd yet to experience and I was certainly enjoying it, thus far.

"Thank you." I said.

The man closed my door for me and it was at that moment that I realized how much I disliked the thought of any other woman in the world ever being referred to by that name.

I mean, I really disliked it.

A lot.

"I'm a sick woman."

After I'd pulled my seat belt on I adjusted the sunglasses on my face, started the car and tuned my radio. I was in the middle of putting my car in drive as my brain raced. I could hardly move when I slowly came to the realization that the car I was driving, the sunglasses on my face and the credit card in my purse were all there because of one person. My heart jumped, and, with the speed of a cheetah, I'd pulled the glasses from my eyes and all but lunged them to the other end of the car. At the beginning of all of this, Justin had taken over all of my thoughts. Slowly, but surely, he was taking over my life.

What really scared me, though, was that a complaint was hard to come by. My brain, which had always been my pessimistic equal, was beginning to grow as fond as my heart. It was an unwelcome and unfamiliar change, one of many, that I'd experienced, since the day I'd stepped foot on that god damn roof. I thought about how different my life would be if I hadn't found Justin that night, and I didn't like the thought. Not even a little.

"I'm a sick, sick woman."  

In the last few weeks I'd been used to the pharse, "Hey, are you Trevion?" being called out to me in tones that varied from amusement, excitement and pure confusion, from perfect strangers. I'd learned to ignore it after the hundreth time. It was one of the many pleasantries that came with associating myself with the ass licker.

Some people called him Justin.

"Hey!" The same voice called, more persistently this time. I walked faster, hoping she would get the hint. Usually flat out ignoring these people was what drove them away. Besides, I was still annoyed with Justin. The urge to bad mouth him to whatever crazy person was following me today would be far to delectable for me to fight.

And, whether or not I wanted to admit it, I didn't want to hurt him.

"Hey!" The voice screamed, again.

I stopped in my tracks and turned on my heel. "What?!" I screamed back, stopping in the middle of the walkway, which forced serveral of the annoyed students walking behind me to go around. The first thing I noticed about the older woman was her wild curls. "Wow." I said. I wanted so badly to make fun of the monstrosity that she probably had the nerve to call hair that it damn near ate me alive. I figured, though, that I would at least wait until she started to really bother me. That way I would have an excuse for being such a bitch.

She was extremily surprised at my sudden outburt, her wide eyes showed that. "I-- well--" She blushed.

"I-- well--" I mimicked, frowning. "Spit it out! You had so much to say two seconds ago."

She was clearly an older lady clinging on to any strip of her childhood that she had left. The jeans on her hips were so tight that her lovehandles hung over the edges slightly. A bright pink tube top hugging her offensively large breasts was just as out of place on her body and fit just as poorly as the jeans. It did, however, give me a perfect view of the belly button ring she had on. It was a pair of cherries, glistening under the sunlight.

A pair of cherries that I was almost positive she'd popped years ago. Probably at her prom in the back of a van with a guy named Lester.

"You must be Trevion." She said, exasperated.

"What do you mean I must be, Trevion?" I asked, highly offended.

"Well... I've heard about you."

I stared at her, honestly wondering if she had a point. When she said nothing, I frowned. "Is that it?"

"No."

"Well, I live up in the Dalton dorms, okay? Drop me a line when you've found a tub top that fits, a straightening iron that's capable of taming that wild beast I'm sure you like to call hair and the ability to speak a syllable or two and maybe I'll be able to muster up the energy to ignore you. Okay?"

I didn't wait for an answer. She didn't seem to have one.

"Okay." I turned on my heel and stomped off. As I headed towards the dorms, a smile slowly crossed my face.

I hadn't been that mean to a person in a while.

Forgot how good it felt.

--

I had four days off from school and I had no idea what to do with myself. Usually, if I had this kind of time of my hands, I went straight to Justins. I'd learned in the past few weeks, though, that Mr. Timberlake was almost as stubborn as I was, and we hadn't spoken in two days.

I frowned. Had it only been two days? It felt like much longer.

I was so sad.

I made my way into Biology, my last class for the next four days, and took my seat. Surprisingly, since I was always a disaster in science, it was the class I was doing the best in and actually enjoyed attending. Part of that probably had a lot to do with the boy, who many of the girls referred to as "sex on legs", that sat next to me.

"Good morning, T." He said. The poor fool never could manage to say my name right so I'd been reduced to the twentieth letter in the alphabet.

I looked at him. "Say it with me, Chet. Trev-eeee-on." When he looked at me in confusion, I scoffed. "There's no way you're this stupid."

He grinned. "You want to go to dinner with me tonight?"

"I spoke too soon."

"No, seriously."

I laughed out loud. "Why don't people ever think I'm serious?"

"Do you have any idea how many girls would kill to have dinner with me?"

"Well, let's see, there are 17,000 girls on this campus and if they are as stupid as I imagine them to be I'd guess about... 17,000?"

"Hm. More like 5,000."

"My faith in womanhood is restored."

"I kind of adore you, Trevion."

"You know, there's a pill for that."

"Maybe you should get Justin Timberlake a prescription."

"Believe me, I'm trying."

"You seem like you really hate him."

I turned to him. "Do you think so? Because he doesn't seem to get it. I've been wondering whether I should take it up a notch."

"Nah. You try to be a bitch, but..." He shrugged. "You're more genuine than most girls on the planet. That's obvious. That's what he's sees in you."

"He doesn't see anything in me. We're friends."

"Doesn't seem that way to me."

"I didn't ask you."

"No... you didn't."

When he got silent I looked over at him and saw him smiling into his notebook.

He was cute.

One over confident, over charming boy in my life was enough, for now.

--

Having dealt with Chet and his antics for an hour and a half, I was happy to walk out of Biology and even happier when a peppy blonde sidetracked him. Usually, he walked me to my dorm room and sometimes it was so hard to pretend to dislike his company. When I felt his hand on my shoulder I rolled my eyes and turned around.

"Look, Chet-- oh christ!"

"No, I'm not Chet." JC said with a smile.

"Never thought that sentence would depress me." I said, throwing his hand from my shoulder.

"It's okay, Trevion. My hands are clean."

"I don't give a damn how clean your hands are, JC. You could have just soaked them in sanitizer and I would still prefer an orange slug, tarantula or boa constrictor to your crusty mitts."

"You're a breath of fresh air, as always." He said, holding a door open for me.

I opened the one right next to it and hurried through. "I do my best. What do you want? Why are you here?" I asked, turning to him and feeling a true fury run through my veins. "I thought you said you were leaving."

He followed me into the courtyard and his blue eyes glistened under the bright sunlight. "Don't be so panicked. I happen to know that Justin and Trace are out shoe shopping. So we wont run into him here."

I searched his eyes, sighed, and walked away. "Why are you so intent on causing trouble?"

"I'm not. I just want to fix what's been broken."

"You can't."

"Probably not, but you can."

"Probably not." I frowned.

"Justin trusts you."

"Unfortunately."

"He listens to you."

"He doesn't know any better. Stop following me!"

"Stop running."

I stopped in my tracks and turned to him, damn near having a crash collision. "Justin and I aren't even speaking to one another right now, all right? So just leave me the fuck alone."

"I'm not leaving until you and I sit down and have a civilized conversation."

"We already did that, JC. What if we're photographed together? What if this gets back to Justin? Fuck, I hate you so bad I can't even put it into words."

"I'm sure you could. It's what you do best."

"Not lately."

"Why don't I get straight to the point?" He asked.

"There's a point? Shocking."

"I assume you know Louise Spencer..."

My heart stopped at the sound of her name and the need to sock the shit out of him wasn't quite as suffocating as it had been moments ago.

"I'll take that as a yes." His smile widened. "I hate to be cliche, Trev, but... it is a small world, after all."

I took a deep breathe, blinked back the tears in my eyes and looked around me.

"I knew... from the moment I saw you, I knew you seemed familiar to me, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Then, in the middle of the night, boom--" He snapped his finger and laughed. "Louise Spencer. I don't know how I didn't see it from the minute I laid eyes on you. I don't know how Justin doesn't see it. You're her spitting image. It's no wonder he's so comfortable with you. She was like a sister to him."

I shook my head, unable to speak.

"As it turns out your mother has been our make-up artist for the last six years." He held up his hands to signify the amount. "Six years with your mother and I have never heard the name Trevion Spencer. I wonder what she would say if she knew her little girl was fraternizing with the boy she helped raise. I wonder why she never mentioned you. Why Justin hasn't noticed it..." He blinked softly and shook his head. "You're her spiting image."

I shook my head, no longer caring about the tears threatening to fall. "You're lying."

Deep down, I knew he wasn't. The moment he'd said she was a make-up artist, I knew he wasn't. I still had distant memories of sitting in my mother's room. I remembered sitting on the edge of the bed when I was three or four, watching intently as she tried on dress after dress when she was getting ready to have a night out with my father. My favorite thing to do, back then, was watch her put on make up. She did it so well and I was always astonished at the transformation it made. The only thing she'd ever let me wear was a little lipstick, promising to show me more as I got older.

Obviously, that never happened.

"You're lying." I said, again, for some reason.

"I don't lie." He said. "I may be a cheat, I may be scum... but I don't lie."

"Where is she?" I immediately asked.

He shook a finger back and forth, "Uh, uh, uh... not so fast."

"JC, where is she?!" I said, louder this time.

"Listen... I know where she is and I'd be happy to tell you, but... not until we sit down and have a real conversation."

I was completely defeated, shaken and even frightened at the sound of my mother's name on his lips. If what he said was true, if she'd been working for NSync all this time then everything I'd ever believed was true. She really hadn't been looking for me. She really didn't care about her freak of a daughter. She hadn't even mentioned me to the people she'd worked with for six years. I no longer cared about my contempt for JC, all I cared about was getting more information on the woman I should have known like the back of my hand, but didn't know, at all.

My eyes narrowed, guilty looking out for Justin, before landing back on his. "When?"

"Tonight at six. I'll pick you up."

I swallowed back the vomit in my throat, if it was at the mention of my mother or the sight of JC, I wasn't sure.

"I hate you." I spat, looking upon the man with a real contempt.

JC smiled. "I'll see you in three hours."

--

"You're leaving?" Kim asked me, two hours later.

My heart was about ready to pound out of my chest, I wanted to call Justin, but knew I couldn't and I felt sick to my fucking stomach with every second that past because every second brought me closer to a night out with JC. Closer to completely betraying Justin. Closer to the raw truth of how much he meant to me and how much it was going to hurt me to do this to him.

He didn't know what it felt like. He didn't know what it felt like to have no idea who your mother is. To have never had a mother. Too few people did. If he ever found out about this, and I would fight tooth and nail before that happened, but if he ever did... he would have to understand.

Deep down, though, I knew he wouldn't. That fact, alone, was what was making me so sick. I didn't want to go with JC. I didn't want to see my mother if it meant hurting Justin.

That was the scariest truth of all.

"If a man comes to the door tell him I'll be out in ten minutes." I said, taking a quick look at my watch. I wondered if JC was the type to show up early. If he was, that only gave me a few minutes.

"A guy, huh?" Kim asked. "What's his--" A knock on the door startled us both. She gave me a seductive look that inspired an eye roll from me. "Maybe that's him." She said, in her deepest voice. She hopped up from the bed and hurried over to the door. A part of me was tempted to hide, but I stayed where I was, unable to move. She opened the door and I heard a muffled voice, sure it was JC. When she scoffed and rolled her eyes, though, my heart continued to beat but it warmed a bit, as well. "Oh, it's you." Kim spat. "It's only Justin." She said, having grown used to seeing his face over the weeks.

"It's good to see you, too, Kim." I heard Justin say, flatly. I hurried up to the door.

"Justin!" I beamed. When he didn't smile back at me or immediately greet me I was instantly concerned. A part of me was in panic mode, though, because I knew it was only minutes until JC showed up at the door. Looking into Justin's eyes, I instantly knew, my mother was going to have to wait. The woman hadn't been in my life for fifteen years. Justin was there right now, and he'd done more for me in a month than she had in my whole life. She would have to wait.

She would have to.

"Trev.." He paused, something he always did when he was about to go off on one of his long, exhausting rants.

I stopped him before it started. "I'm sorry, Justin, but... I don't really have time right now."

His face filled with surprise, then regret. "Are you still mad?"

Instinctively, I reached out and touched his shirt. "No." I said, hurriedly, "I'm not mad, at all. Just in a hurry."

"To where?" He asked.

Tons of people, one after the other, were walking past my door behind him and I'd never felt more like throwing up in my life. If Justin found out that I'd been talking to JC he would never speak to me, again. I had to get rid of him and it wasn't looking like that was going to happen anytime soon. When a tall brunette man with shaggy hair whisked past him I damn near fainted.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" He asked, his face taunt with worry. He reached out a hand and rested it on my cheek, making it heat up.

I slapped his hand away. "Nothing! I just need you to go away!"

"I can't." He said.

"Why not!"

He stared at me.

"Spit it out!" I cried, wanting nothing more than to kill him. At least if he was dead he wouldn't see JC once he showed up at the door.

"I have to go away."

"So god is listening to me up there, huh?" I jammed my eyes shut.

There was no time for sarcasm.

"To California."

"Say hello to Arnold for me, alright?" I tried to close the door, but he stopped me. I wondered how much effort it would take to rip his eyeballs right from his head.

"I just woke up this morning and..." He shrugged this shoulders. "I got a call last night from my little brother. My mom's not doing too well with all of this. I want to go see her. Take care of a few things."

"Okay, go get 'em!" I beamed. "Call me when you get there."

He grinned. "Did you actually just invite me to give you a call? That's a first. I feel like I should mark it on my calendar."

"That's funny!" I beamed, pointing at him. "Okay, I'll see you later!" I went to close my door.

I have no idea why I thought it would be that easy.

Justin put his foot in it and pushed it back open. I gave my watch a quick glance, realized JC was due in three minutes and prayed he was the type to be very, very late. When Justin pushed the door back open my wide eyes met his.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked me, again.

"Why would anything be wrong with me?" I questioned back.

"You're being uncharacteristically sweet."

"Impossible." I shot back.

"What are you looking at?" He asked, turning around, probably to see what the fuck was so fascinating.

He couldn't know that what I was looking out for was JC. Not now. Not ever.

"California, huh?!" I beamed. "Let me walk you to your car."

He looked officially freaked out.

I cleared my throat. "Um, I mean..." I reached out and punched him. "Let me help you find your car, dumb-ass, since you're probably too stupid to remember where you parked."

"Okay, that was fake and harsh... even for you." He smirked.

"Leave!" I screamed.

"Come with me." He answered.

I opened my mouth to speak, realized what he just said, and closed it. I contemplated his words, opened my mouth, closed it again, then frowned.

"To the parking lot?" I finally managed.

"To California."

You're crazy, was what my brain immediately told me to say. Then, it started working, again, and I realized that this was probably the only way I was going to get him out of here in the next few minutes.

"My flight's in twenty minutes." He explained. "I know you're supposed to be at the airport two hours before your flight-- and I was. Then I was sitting in the terminal, reading this book that I'd bought--"

I didn't have time for this shit. "Hey, Justin--"

"And I looked up and saw this woman with three screaming children that were absolutely out of control and I thought about how much you would have hated that. You would have probably taken the woman's belt right off of her body and whopped those bad ass kids yourself, were my exact thoughts. That's when I realized that there's no way I'm going to be able to make it through a visit to California without you, Trev. Those are my friends and family, sure, but they're going to crucify me and having you there with me would make things so much--"

"Let's go." I said, reaching towards the coffee table on my right and grabbing my purse.

He was stunned. "Huh?"

"California, let's go. We only have twenty minutes." I pushed him out of the doorway and closed the door behind me without saying goodbye to Kim.

"You're not packed." He said, resisting.

I continued to pull him towards the elevators. "You're rich, you like to shop, let's not get sidetracked by the little things. Twenty minutes!" I beamed.

"I was actually planning on rescheduling."

"Nonsense!" I cried. "Stop resisting me!"

"Why are you making this so easy?" He asked. The two of us were barely moving, having a tug of war battle in the middle of the hallway, much to everyone's amusement. All the kids of my floor were so used to seeing him around that only a few lingered to say hello to him while the rest just swept past us.

"Why are you making this so hard?" I asked.

"Because you're making it so easy."

"Exactly! You should be treasuring this!"

"You're being weird." He frowned.

"What the fuck else is new?"

"Okay, you're being weirder than normal. I was actually planning on buying two new tickets because I figured it would take all night to convince you to leave the state with me."

"I don't have classes for the next few days, I could use a vacation from Kim, why would I fight you?"

"Because you always fight me?" He said, as if it were obvious.

"Well..." I pouted. "Not today, okay?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Stop asking me that. Hey, where are our seats on the plane? Never mind, I want it to be a surprise. Let's GO."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Stop ASKING me that. There's nothing wrong with me! I just want to be with you."

He reached out and touched my forehead. "You're not warm." He thought for a moment. "You haven't been taking candy from people you don't know, have you?"

"Everybody knows that strangers have the best candy." I said. Shut up, dumb-ass! My brain screamed. "Common!" I smiled at him, placed my hands on his shoulders and began pushing his towards the elevator. This time, he didn't resist. Just smiled back.

"Okay." He said, letting me push him. I tightened my hands on his shoulders and tried to breath past my beating heart. He was cooperating, which was good. Now all I needed to do was get him to the parking lot without having a run in with JC, which was very unlikely in my tiny ass dorm.

As if god was reading my thoughts and saw an opportunity for some entertainment up there, the elevator dinged just as Justin because to give in. I saw JC's tall, thin figure emerge from between the doors and stopped breathing. Literally, stopped breathing.

"Trev?" Justing asked, obviously concerned at my face, which I was sure was probably getting redder with each second that passed.

I stopped in mid-step and Justin stopped with me. Over his shoulder, JC was strutting down the hallway with no idea that Justin and I were there. I tried not to stare at him, because that would entice Justin to try and see what I was looking at. When girls began greeting JC by name tears came to my eyes.

I was really, really scared.

"What's wrong? Trev? What is wrong with you? We're not going anywhere until you tell me." Justin said. He'd lost patience.

I couldn't blame him.

As JC continued approaching, I did the only thing I could think of, I wailed out loudly and threw my head back. Quietly, I prayed for fake tears to come to my face, and god answered.

"It's just everything!" I beamed, frowning up my wet face. "I mean with school, you, Kim, EVERYTHING! I'm tried, Justin!" I screamed his name.

It caught JC's attention, and I could have died of happiness when he stopped in his tracks, barely ten feet away from us.

"Hey, hey!" Justin whispered, soothingly. "Relax."

"It's so hard." I cried, tears of happiness falling down my cheeks. "I'm tired! So very tired!"

"Hey, come here." He put took my arms in his hands and pulled my body to his. His arms went all the way around me and I came this close to completely losing myself in his warmth. He smelled better than any man should ever smell.

I sniffed into his shoulder, enjoying his scent, and gripped his shoulders in my hands. As I felt his steady heartbeat against my chest I kept my eyes on JC, who was pushing the button for the elevator. His eyes met mine and I shook my head at him.

The sight of Justin so close obviously had an effect on him. I could see that it was taking absolutely everything he had in him not to approach Justin to try and talk. An old girlfriend of mine had once told me, "When two men have a true bond they're half a step away from a dick in the mouth". In much less vulgar terms, she was saying that male best friends were almost as close as lovers, and it had never been more apparent to me until that very second. JC loved Justin with all of his heart, and it seemed to physically pain him when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

I shook my head at him, once more, when he seemed to hesitate. His large hands were tightly clutched, he rang them together and bit his lip before--finally-- stepping into the open elevator.

China, Afghanistan and Siberia were all lifted from my shoulders.

Then I realized it.

Justin's arms were wrapped around me.

It felt good.

Too good.

I let myself linger in his arms, enjoying the feeling for a couple more seconds.

The elevator dinged again.

I wanted to believe that it was a bunch of kids coming up from class, I almost did. Deep down, though, I had a feeling that it would be JC.

I was right.

He stepped out and began walking towards us with a resolve and concentration that startled me. He'd done the smart thing by getting into that elevator and hadn't even made it to the bottom before he changed his mind.

Dumb-ass.

"Let's go this way, Justin!" I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the staircase.

"Wait..." He tried to pull back. "Trev--

"I'm fine!" I insisted, tugging him to the other end of the hallway. I was thankful that it was a busy day, and JC's calls were slightly muffled by all of the bodies in the busy hallway. Besides, Justin was used to drunk college boys screaming out his name in the halls and was really good at ignoring them.

As I was about to pass the door to my room, I saw that it was my only way out of this.

"There's a bag sitting under the bed in the room. Can you please run in there and throw a couple of my clothes inside? Make sure you get shoes, pants, shoes, sweaters, cocks, sandals and undies. Never know what the weather will be like!"

"I thought we were going shopping--"

"Change of plan. I'll give you five minutes, I have to take care of something downstairs!" I grabbed the knob, threw the door open, pushed him in and slammed it shut. The second I turned around, JC came plummeting into me.

I took two big chunks out of the black shirt he had on and pushed him away with all of my might, "Are you out of your fucking MIND?!"

"Move." He said, so calmly that it panicked me. He was a man on a mission, it seemed, and was watching the door of my dorm room with a steely determination.

I threw both arms out, blocking the entrance. Both of us knew damn well (he HAD to be more than 6' tall against my pathetic 5'5) that if he wanted to remove me from that doorway he damn sure would.

Thankfully, like Justin, he was a gentleman. At least, for now.

"Move." He said, again.

"I can't do that." I gasped. Breathing deep, I tried to talk some sense into him. "Don't you realize that he will kill you? Don't you realize that? I don't think you're taking my words as literally as you should when I tell you this, JC."

His eyes narrowed, then straightened. "I don't care."

"I care!" I screamed, pushing him. His jaw clenched, making me feel like I was one more push away from a swollen lip. "I care." My teeth were clenched. "I care." I said, once last time. That one was for myself more than him.

"You don't care. You don't even fucking know him."

"Maybe, ugh--" I pushed him away. "Maybe, I don't. You know what I do know, JC? I know that man in there loved you. Deep down, he probably always will, but you do not want him to see you around here. You don't." My heart broke when my words seemed to have no effect on him. "Please leave." I begged with a desperation I didn't know I possessed.

"Why should I?" He asked. "So he can go on hating me? So this thing between us will never be resolved?"

"You have to give him time. What you did to him was an out of this world kind of betrayal and it's up to him. Not you, not me, him. He's the only person that can decide whether or not he'll ever have room for you in his life, again. Maybe he will, maybe he wont. But your being here, right now, JC-- I can promise will solidify his intense hate for you."

Finally, as his jaw relaxed, I sensed my words were having an effect on him.

"The wounds are still fresh. Maybe I don't know Justin as well as you do, but I do know this... for some reason the crazy fuck sees something in me. I'm the only thing in his life, right now, that he believes is worthwhile. He and I have something that's really good. If he finds out that I've been talking to you it'll fucking crush him. Furthermore, if he finds out we've been talking he'll not only never speak to you, again, he'll never speak to me, either. Is that what you want? At least if I'm around you'll always have someone there to put in a good word for you if the opportunity arises. I'm sure, in good time, I could get Justin to come around about this whole situation. In fact, I know I can."

"I doubt it."

"I'm sure you do, but I know that Justin loves you. He really does. He probably always will. It's just that... he's not going to forgive you overnight. It's only been a month since everything went down. Give me three months, JC. Three months and if Justin's still not talking to you, by all means..." I motioned to the door behind me, "Kick the fucking door in."

His eyes softened.

"Not now." I pleaded. "Not now. I've got a pop-star on the other side of that door who could barely say the word LA four weeks ago, but you know what? He just bought a plane ticket to California. I wish you knew what a big deal that was. How much progress he's made in the last few weeks. I hate to be cliche, but they didn't build China in a day." I cringed. "If I'd have known that would rhyme I would have worded it different, but, you know..." I said, holding an apologetic hand up.

When JC shoved his hands in his pockets and looked towards the floor, I knew that I'd gotten through to him. "I wont leave Vegas."

"Couldn't care less, as long as you don't show your face around here."

"And we meet up every Friday to talk."

"You're pushing it." I clenched my teeth.

"Every. Friday."

I growled out a low and thin, "Fine."

"Three months." He finalized.

I closed my eyes. "That's all I ask. China only took three and a half, right?"

"Always with the jokes." He observed.

"Okay, JC? There's no time." I beamed, motioning towards the door behind me.

He took one step back, then another, until he was making steady progress back towards the elevator.

I watched him until he was gone and opened the door to my room.

If I didn't need a vacation five minutes ago, I definitely needed one now. A few days in California with Justin actually didn't seem so bad after dealing with JC's stupid ass. Justin was shuffling through my underwear drawer, so engrossed in my collection that he barely noticed me come in.

"Hey." I said, suddenly very appreciative of the man I had before me. You never know what you have until a crazy ex-best friend tries to talk to it.

Justin immediately slammed my underwear drawer shut and stood tall. A smirk crossed his face. "You wear thongs."

"Really? And all this time I'd been wondering what kind of draws I put on my own ass every morning."

"What ass?" He laughed.

"Do you want to die?"

"I packed the pink one with the hearts."

"Really? I think blue is more your color."

He grinned a defeated grin and watched as I crossed the room to my bed. "What was that all about, out there?" He asked, patting down the clothes he'd packed.

I plopped on my bed, took a look at Kim who was doing an impressive job of denying our very existence, and sighed. "Oh nothing." My eyes widened at the bag before me. More than half my wardrobe was packed neatly according to size and color. "In the five minutes I was gone you did all this?"

"I've lived out of suitcases since I was ten. If there were a packing olympics I'd win gold every year."

"The Jordan of color coordination."

"That's right, baby!" He beamed, proudly, putting the finishing touches on my clothes. "They wouldn't stand a chance against my sock stuffing technique."

"What's that?"

He scoffed, as if I were crazy for expecting him to tell me. "Yeah right!" He beamed.

I looked him in the eye. "You're a freak."

Even though he was a corny mess and a damn fool, the sight of his smile was like fresh air to me, and I hated JC for threatening that.

I hated everything about him.

And I hated myself for associating with him. A true guilt rushed through my veins as I watched Justin zip my pack closed. He was so excited that I'd agreed to go on this trip with him that it had taken him a whole three minutes to pack up half my shit. I wondered if he'd be so exited if he knew I'd just got done haggling JC just outside that door. I wondered how he could care so much about a girl that just made a deal with the devil.

"I'm excited about California." I said, honestly.

"Don't be."

I blinked.

"I'm not trying to take the wind out of your sails, it's just..." He looked at me with concern, "My family isn't going to make this easy on me. They're going to be pissed. They're going to show it. They're going to hate you." He looked at me.

I grinned. "Thanks for the warning, bud."

"You're welcome."

"I love that you're so willing to throw me right in the middle of the crossfire."

"I don't think I can do it alone. I'd bring Trace, but he's likely to take their side."

"How do you know I'm not likely to take their side?"

"Because you hate people. It'll take my family weeks before they're in your good graces and by then we'll be gone."

"You know me so well."

"I don't mean to throw you in the crossfire." He said.

"I know."

"I just don't want any surprises for you."

"More surprising than meeting the Jordan of Color Coordination? Impossible."

He smiled that smile and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead.

"You know..." I said, fingering the zipper of my bag and looking up at him. "Chain letters I got in junior high said that when a guy kisses you on the forehead it means he adores you."

"You did chain letters?" He asked.

"No!" I beamed. "... Sometimes! But that girl was eleven and stupid and giggly and boy crazy and..." I shook my head. "Scary."

"Scarier than you? Impossible."

I stared at him.

"What?" He asked, taking my bag and lifting it from the bed. "We only have fifteen minutes."

"Do I look familiar to you?" I asked. Confusion immediately crossed his face at the question. "I mean... do I... do I remind you of anyone that you know? That you knew?"

He cocked his head back. He didn't understand why I was asking him these questions, but he gave me a good long look, anyway. After several minutes, a small smile crossed his face.

"There's only one Trevion, and I got her." He grabbed the scarf around my neck and tugged it. When I stood, he kissed my forehead, and my heart jumped.

"You wish, Timberlake."

"I'll never lie to you, again. I wont." He whispered into my ear, having no real idea that I was only half listening. "You're the one good thing I've got going on in my life right now and I would never jeopardize that. You know that, right?"

I sat, clutching the handles of the seats beneath my fingers. Several seconds past before I realized that he was saying something to me, and I looked over at him. Just as I was about to open my mouth and say something, the giant plane made a new noise (joining the ranks of the mysterious *clink*, *bang*, *crack* and *twings* that had terrified me in the last few minutes). The damn plane wasn't even in the air yet and I was already sweating to get off.

Suddenly, the idea of the plane exploding in mid-air, sending all of us crashing into the pavement, the wilderness or what-ever body of water we may have been over, took over my brain and I had to jam my eyes shut.

There is nothing in the world harder than ignoring your own thoughts.

"Uh--"

The plane shook under our feet.

Shook.

"Uh-- Yes?" I gave Justin a quick glance. Seemingly unaware of my being two seconds away from throwing up all over his worried face, he shook his head.

"It doesn't seem like you mean it." His eyebrows were scrunched together. "Listen, before everything went down with Britney and JC..." He sighed. "My step-father was in the hospital, my mom wasn't talking to me for one reason or another, Lance was pissed off at me--hell, he still is, Chris wasn't speaking to me because I blew him off at some convention, my record company was pushing for an album I wasn't ready to make, my baby brother left a message on my answering machine basically telling me what an asshole I am for not bothering to be in his life, there were rumors going around about me cheating on Britney and it was almost like she... like she was starting to believe them. What I loved most about Britney was that she always understood the celebrity aspect of my life more than anyone else. She was the only person I could talk to. After a few articles in those fucking magazines, though..." Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him shake his head, "She was starting to believe them, my family was in the hospital, my brother's hated me, and they had every right because... we don't really know each other... at all. Are you listening?" He looked at me, with a true hope in his eyes, just as the plane jolted.

My heart jumped into my throat. "Yes!" I all but screamed.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I've been dealing with stress, long hours, lack of sleep, high expectations, just... serious, SERIOUS pressure that no person should ever have to deal with, for a long time. Since I was thirteen I've been dealing with that kind of pressure. I'm always so level-headed and ready for everything, but... that was the worst month of my life, Trev. It was like I lost all control. All of the balls I had in the air were shifting and when I saw them..." His voice caught and he shook his head.

I watched him, quietly wondering if the large pockets on his baggy pants would be big enough to throw up in.

"When I saw them together, all the balls just dropped. Any tiny bit of control that I may have still had in my grasp..." He shook his head. "Gone. I didn't even feel like me. I felt like somebody standing on the outside, watching my entire life fall apart and shaking his head for letting it happen. Everything was fucked up and it was all my fault. I'd never experienced that before and I just... snapped. I could have killed both of them. I would have." He frowned. "I would have." He said, again, as if he were realizing it for the first time.

"But you didn't." I whispered.

He looked at me, smiled softly.

The plane sped up.

I threw up.

And Justin screamed.

--

"You scream like a girl." I said softly, taking the moist cloth from his hand to wipe my mouth. After I was done, I held out the rag and smiled up at him. "Thanks."

Not smiling back, he snatched the rag from my hands. "That wasn't for you." He said, before furiously scrubbing the stain on his shirt, which he'd laid out flat on the counter of the plane's bathroom. I sat on the toilet of the impossibly small area and he stood between my legs at the sink, struggling to wipe his shirt clean of my throw-up.

Apparently, Justin hadn't been lying when he said he handled stress well. Most normal people would have not only hated me for throwing up all over them, but would have probably thrown up their damn selves after being scrunched in the tiny cubicle we were in and inhaling the vile stench it left behind.

"I'm sorry." I said. "You were just so deep into your story and so desperate for my forgiveness... I knew there was no stopping you. I suppose it's me that's going to be desperate for you forgiveness now, huh? Funny how the tables are turned?"

If my brain had sounds effects there would have been the sound of tires screeching right at that moment.

Had I just said those words?

"Who am I?" I said out-loud, frowning in pure dismay. I clutched my hands in my lap and shook my head, trying to rid myself of whatever sweet-serum Justin had surely injected into my bloodstream without my knowledge or consent.

He continued scrubbing. "All you had to say was that you felt like throwing up. In fact, it would have been helpful to know about your fear of flying BEFORE you let me step on this plane with you. But, whatever." He shrugged the way a person did to convince you that they weren't mad when they really were.

"I get sick in all moving vehicles, so had it been a train, bus or plane..." I shrugged. "Wouldn't have mattered. High puke-probability all the way around."

"But, you drive a car."

"Not long distances." I counted. "Look, I said I was sorry, I meant it. We can just sit in separate seats and I'll throw up on some other poor fool's lap for the rest of the flight."

He scrubbed his shirt for a couple more minutes before throwing the rag in the sink. He threw the shirt over his arm and adjusted the wife beater he had on.

"If you're throwing up on anyone's lap, Trev, it's going to be mine." He said with a small smirk.

I frowned up at him. "You're jealous of the guy I'd rather throw up on?"

He seemed to think about that. "I suppose so."

"Is there anything on earth that you DON'T turn into some sort of sick competition?"

"Coffee." He immediately answered. "I have never been able to make a perfect cup of coffee."

I raised my eyebrow. "And everything else?"

"I'd kick your ass!" He beamed.

I wanted to laugh, but was too afraid. "You're sick." I responded.

He held up his shirt, which still reeked out my puke, and raised an eyebrow.

I couldn't argue with that, but I could add, "You're not the most secure guy on earth."

After those words, which seemed to hit some unknown nerve, he watched me for several long moments.

"No." He whispered. "Not lately."

The hope in his voice made it as clear as day to me. He was hoping that this whole trip was going to rectify what had been broken in him. Help him find the man he'd lost the day he walked in on JC and Britney.

Just like Trace when he surprised us in Vegas, Justin didn't seem to know the man he was today. He didn't recognize him nor did he particularly enjoy his presence.

As I looked up into his blue eyes I was reminded of the thoughts I thought every night.

The thoughts that scared me so much that I would try to force myself into thinking something else.

The Justin I knew wasn't the Justin that everyone else, or even he, himself, knew. It was the Justin that everyone wanted to go away. The Justin that needed to be fixed. I didn't see what everyone else say. To me, the only real flaw that the man in front of him had was the unforgivable need he felt to be a corn-ball all the time. Apparently, though, I was the only person in Justin's life that saw nothing that needed fixing.

Whoever the real Justin was, it seemed, I didn't know him.

Had never met him.

It scared me more than I cared to admit. It scared me to be so close to someone that I didn't really know. That, maybe, the real Justin wouldn't like me nearly as much as the one I knew today did. I'd never known an insecurity like the ones I had with him.

"What's going through your head?" He whispered.

I stared at him, but didn't give an answer because I knew it would upset him.

What's going through my head? I thought.

Who are you?

That's what.

--

An hour later, we were in LA and night was falling. As we pulled into a neighborhood with houses I didn't even want to know the prices of, I was feeling just about as sick to my stomach as Justin looked. Each house we passed had acres and acres of land, and the streets were curvy and confusing, but Justin seemed to know where he was going.

"Los Angeles has a lot more trees than I imagined." I observed, taking in the scenery from the large hill we were advancing. "You can see the ocean from here, holy shit!" I pointed out of the car at the blurry, blue horizon, as if Justin didn't know the view from his own fucking neighborhood. "Look!" I beamed. When I looked at him and realized that he wasn't going to get excited with me, I willed myself to relax. "Looks like it's going to be your turn to throw up, in a minute." I commented. I reached down into my duffle and pulled out a handful of paper bags, "Good thing I stole these from the plane, huh? Justin?"

Justin didn't respond. I watched his face go from excited to petrified to sick all in the span of two seconds and suddenly realized what a big deal this was to him. The fact that he was so nervous almost made me nervous. More than anything, I wanted things to go well here for him. This was his home, his family. I understood that, without them, a big chunk of him would always be missing.

If they give him a hard time. I thought to myself. I'll rip them a new one.

The idea excited me, since I'd been dying to regain a little of my old self over the past couple of weeks.

I looked at Justin's hands on the steering wheel of the rented Porch, saw that his knuckles were turning red, and immediately realized that fucking with his family probably wouldn't be the BEST idea.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "I don't think you've taken an entire breath since we stepped off the plane."

He didn't answer me and my heart nearly stopped when he suddenly turned into the driveway on our right.

"This is it." He whispered, putting the car in park.

I stared up at the house. It was Victorian, white, and so big that I didn't even know where to start being amazed by it. But I'd expected that. Extravagant was Justin's middle name.

"I can't do this." He said, almost immediately after he'd stopped the car. Within seconds, the key was back in the ignition. When the Porch came roaring back to life, I sat quiet in the passengers seat, wondering if he was serious.

Somewhere, deep down, I was hoping that we would turn around, drive back to the airport and pretend that this whole thing had never happened. I was afraid of losing him to these people, this life that I didn't know, and I hated myself for it. It seemed like he was pretty serious, as he was beginning to back the car out of the lot. I opened my mouth to voice my disapproval, even though my heart sang a whole different tune.

"Justin... You can't do this. You have to fix this with your family or you're never going to be happy."

"I know." He commented, a twinge of annoyance in his voice, "I know that, and I will fix it. Just not now. Not now." He shook his head and had a determination in his eyes that told me he was serious. He was nearly all the way back onto the street.

"Justin... you've come all this way. You're here. I wont let you go back, because I know you'll never forgive yourself."

"You can't stop me." He said, like a child, pulling completely onto the street. He put the car in drive and slammed down on the gas. When the car growled, but didn't move one inch, his entire forehead tightened. "What the fuck?" He whispered. After hitting the gas with all of his might, stopping and re-starting the car, even banging on the steering wheel, the light seemed to go on in his head.

I smiled more out of pure amusement than actual pleasure.

"Stop." He said, hotly. He gave it a few seconds, tried to hit the gas again and clenched his teeth when it didn't move. "This isn't fucking funny. I'm serious, Trevion."

"So am I." I said, and with those words, I knew I wasn't going to let him leave.

"I need to do this on my own time." He said, clutching the steering wheel. "I'm not ready. I'm not ready to see their faces."

"You are ready, Justin. You are. You're just scared. And that's not a good enough reason to prolong this absence you've had from your family. They haven't seen or heard from you in a month. Don't you think you owe them this much? Nobody's asking you to go in there and kumbaya with all of them, but at least go in and let them know you're alive."

"They know I'm alive." He countered, his lips pouting out more with every second that passed.

"Fine, then, forget that. Go in there, Justin, and let them know you give a shit." When his eyes met mine I could see him caving, and I was silently rocked back to an hour and a half ago when I talked JC down.

I should go into therapy. I wondered.

I snapped myself out of my thoughts and looked into his eyes. "I haven't seen my mother since I was a child. I've never told anyone this, but I loved her with all my heart. I think about her everyday and I miss her. If she'd have shown up at my door anytime in the last seventeen years, even if she had the most piss poor excuse for not being in my life so so long, with a genuine want to be in my life... that would be it. That would be all I needed. Your family can be angry at you until they're blue in the face, Justin, and that's thier right. But, believe me, you'd rather have them be angry at you than thinking that you don't give a shit about them, because that... is the worst feeling in the world. I wouldn't wish it on my worst fucking enemy and I certainly wouldn't wish it on the people on the other side of that door. So, no, I'm not relenting control of this god damn vehicle. The only place it's going is back into that driveway and, believe you me, I will sit here all night." I crossed my arms to solidify my threat. "Yes, I will."

Justin stared at me for several long moments and, just when I was sure he was about to start screaming at me, he smiled. "I'm glad you're here." He whispered.

He pulled the car back into the driveway and I was about to reject the hug he was sure to try and give me once he had it in park.

Then we heard the front door slam.

A leggy brunette woman came barreling down the porch, strutting down the long walkway and towards the car with a fury that rivaled Godzilla.

Immediately, Justin stiffened, confirming that this was family member #1 and she was not to be fucked with. He climbed out of the car, quickly, and opened his arms to the approaching female.

She stopped in front of his outstretched arms, pursed her lips, and slapped the shit out of him.

I gasped.

So did Justin.

Welcome home, baby.

--

Standing in the silence following the slapping of Justin, the young woman stared at her hand, as if she couldn't believe what it had just done. Justin's head was turned away from her, in the direction she'd slapped him, and he didn't seem in a big hurry to look back at her. And were was I?

In the car.

Was I moving?

Hell no.

Justin took a few heavy breaths, as if he were willing himself to be strong, and craned his head to her. They stood, face to face, eyes locked. From where I sat, they looked nothing alike, but they were obviously related. There was a familiarity and a comfort they shared that proved that fact.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, holding out his hands. "But I'm here."

From the look on her face, the girl did seem sorry, which was the only thing that stopped me from jumping out of the car and going all wild bunch on her. He hair was stick straight and she had an average body. Her brown eyes were angry under the sun, but also wet with tears. She didn't know how to handle to very sight of him. She wanted to be angry because she loved him, but couldn't stay angry because she loved him.

It was a foreign expression to me, since I'd never experienced such emotion on someone's face directed at me.

She wiped a fallen tear from her face and shook her head.

"Clo..." Justin begged her to respond to him.

I quietly put a name to the face as I watched the scene before me like a movie.

For a few moments longer, she stared at him, then her eyes narrowed to me. My heart stopped as I saw her mouth, 'Why is she here?'. She said the word 'she' with venom and it was accompanied by a deep frown. At least, I thought, she had the decency to whisper for my sake. When I saw Justin saying something back, also keeping his voice down, my heart warmed at the sight. Even thought I couldn't hear him, I knew he was standing up for me, and it made me so proud of him.

As he spoke quietly with 'Clo', who's real name I assumed was 'Cloey', she kept a suspicious eye on me, and even rolled them a few times. She was unconvinced by what he was telling her. She'd probably read about me in the magazines and had come to her own fucked up conclusions weeks ago.

"Come inside." She said, loud enough for me to hear. Her voice was hard. "I'll get you some ice." She turned her back on Justin and began towards the house.

He followed behind her, looking at me only to signify that I follow. I quickly climbed out of the car, never taking my eyes off of Cloey. I already didn't like the bitch.

With the way Justin was looking at me, as I came into step next to him, he may as well have been speaking to me with words.

Let me handle this. His eyes warned.

And I promised myself that I would.

--

I followed Justin into the house, which was a lot quieter then I imagined it would be. For some reason, I'd expected all of his family and friends (of which I assumed there were hundreds) to be waiting in the living room of his home. They would all be in a single file line, each one taking turns to come up and give Justin a piece of their minds. Some would hug him and thank god he was okay, others would cuss him out and some (apparently Cloe would belong to this bunch) would hit, slap or kick them with all of their might before strutting out the door without another word.

There was none of that, though.

In fact, it was eerily quiet.

Justin, who was obviously thinking the same thing I was, frowned. Cloey hurried into the kitchen, leaving us standing at the entrance. The house was more amazing inside than it was out. The moment you walked through the doors you were met with two grand staircases on each end of the room, both curving up onto the second floor. There were wall to wall windows in the grand room, killing the need for any artificial light, and the marble floor beneath us shone so bright that it was almost blinding.

"This house is out of control big." I had to comment. "Even for you."

"That's the one thing." He chuckled. "That I agree with you on."

"Who's the girl?"

"Cloey. My cousin."

"She's a real peach."

"Don't." He warned.

"I know. I know you don't want me mouthing off to her. That's why I'm getting it out of my system now."

He couldn't seem to find anything wrong with my reasoning, so he kept quiet.

"I can't believe she slapped you." I whispered. "I was this close to jumping in there and getting your back, you know." I said. "Hopefully your mom doesn't have the same reaction."

"She wont." He said. "I mean... she'll want to, but... she's not a violent woman."

Cloey came from around one of the corners, I wasn't exactly sure what part of the house she'd emerged from in this castle, which a zip-lock bag full of ice in her hands. "Here." She said, placing it in his hand.

"Thanks." Justin said, taking the bag. He didn't put it on his face, though, but let it hang at his side. He was too anxious, I noticed, to care about his quickly reddening face. "This is Trevion." He motioned to me.

Just as I was about to reach a hand out to greet her she spat. "Yeah, I know."

It took everything I had not to slap a bitch.

"Where's mom?" He asked, clutching and unclenching the zip-lock bag beneath his fingers.

The second he asked the question, a look of confusion crossed Cloey's face. She shook her head, as if there were too many thoughts in there for her to handle all at once. She tightened her fingers around her crossed arms. "What do you mean?" She asked.

Justin was looking at her like she was an idiot, and who could blame him?

"I mean... where's mom?" He asked, again, cocking his head out because he didn't understand what was confusing about his question.

"But..." Cloey looked at me, as if this whole mix up was somehow my fault, even though I didn't know what the fuck was going on, then back at Justin. "I thought... I thought you met up with her in Vegas. I thought that was why you came down."

Now both of us were looking at the girl like she had two heads. What the fuck was she talking about?

Justin shook his head. "No... I haven't seen her since I left. I've been in Vegas this whole time and I haven't seen her."

All of a sudden, Cloey was no longer angry. The look that passed over her face was chilling.

"Oh no." She put her hands on top of her head, as if she had the whole world on her shoulders. "You don't know."

Justin took a step toward her, as did I, his eyes wide.

"What?" He strongly questioned. "What don't I know?"

"I thought... Justin..." Tears fell from her eyes. Without another seconds hesitation and no word of warning, she cried. "Paul died last night."

Justin's entire body swayed, and I reached out to steady him in fear that he would topple over. The sight of him so disoriented immediately upset me, but at that very second, I could only think one coherent thought.

Who was Paul?

The three of us sat on the couch in the living room, for the life of me I couldn’t remember when or how we’d made it there from the front door, but we had. Cloey sat on a recliner across from where Justin and I were next to each other on the sofa. Over the coffee table her eyes shot from me to him. I was focused on Justin, scared for him, with no idea what to say or do. Every time I took my eyes off of him, though, and looked at Cloey, her eyes were on me, and they were none too happy.

“I don’t understand.” He finally said, after a long moment of silence. “How this could have happened without my knowing about it. Why didn’t someone tell me? Why didn’t someone…” He stopped talking, almost as if he’d realized the answer to his question in the middle of asking it.

“Nobody knew where you were.” Cloey stated the obvious. Her eyes welled with anger. “You just left. You left two days after Paul put himself in the hospital.”

“But cancer?” Justin beamed. “He checked himself into that place for cancer and none of us knew about it? How?”

“He didn’t know it was cancer when he checked himself in. He complained of a stomach ache. The doctors didn’t take him as seriously as they should have. Maybe they assumed he was just looking for drugs, I don’t know. They didn’t run any real tests on him until the day after and the entire left side of his torso was engulfed by it. They didn’t know how he could have been… how he was still walking, talking… breathing. That’s how much the cancer had spread. That’s how bad it was. Nobody knew. Not even him. The doctors told him it was cancer and he died the next day. Nobody knew where you were.” She said, for the second time that evening.

“So if those asshole had run tests on him from the moment he’d asked—“

“It would have still been too late. Like I said, the cancer had spread so much. By then, it was only a matter of time. A very small matter.”

I sat with my hands in my lap, feeling like a complete intruder in this conversation. In this house. The only thing in the room that I was familiar with was Justin and at the moment, seeing the look on his face, I barely recognized him myself.

“Lynn left for Las Vegas the other day and she couldn’t find you.”

Justin fiddled with the cell phone in his hand. “I can’t get in touch with her. I don’t understand. Why isn’t her phone on… why? How could this happen? How could this have fucking happened?” His voice rose with every word he said and I finally felt comfortable. For the last hour or so he’d been suspiciously calm for someone who’d just head the news he’d head. He stood from the couch and, like we were attached to him by strings, Cloey and I stood, as well.

He stood tall; his hands perched on his head. “Oh Jesus.” He whispered. “Trev.”

At the sound of my name, I immediately stepped up to him and touched the side of his arm. He didn’t say anything to me and shrugged away from my touch, collapsing back on the couch.

“It’s my fault.” He whispered, as if the thought had hit him right at that very moment. His entire face collapsed. “It’s all my fault.”

“No.” I said, immediately, taking a seat next to him. “No, Justin. God, don’t do that. Don’t do that to yourself. There’s nothing you could have done. You heard Cloey, the cancer had already spread. It was a surprise for everyone.”

He looked at me, and if I hadn’t known any better, I would have never guessed anything was wrong with him. He was so in control of his every emotion and I was confused by it.

“I wasn’t there for him. Why wasn’t I there? Why wasn’t I there? He’s dead. He’s fucking dead, Trev, and where was I? In Vegas crying like a bitch because my girlfriend’s a slut and my best friend betrayed me. I was crying over that while my father sat in a fucking hospital room, listening to a bunch of fucking strangers telling him he had a day to live? Maybe if I could have just…” He took a struggled breath, “If I’d have just been there.”

“There was nothing you could have done.” I said, in the most soothing voice possible.

“He could have said goodbye.” Cloey jumped in, catching both Justin and mine’s surprised gazes. “He could have been there when Paul was asking for him, asking about him, worrying about him when he should have been worried about his damn self. He could have fucking been there and let his step father know that he gave a damn! But he wasn’t! You weren’t Justin.”

And there it was, the white hot anger. I tried to control it, but was overwhelmed.

Swallowing back the desire to leap over the table and wrap my arms around her neck, I growled. “Don’t.” I said calmly, giving her the first and final warning.

I looked at Justin, and he looked horrified. Like a little boy that had done something terribly wrong and would pay any price to fix it. This bitch was confirming every thought, true or not, that was already running through his head and for that I could have really killed her.

“Am I lying?” She asked. “Am I? Was he not too busy fucking you in Vegas to be by his father’s bedside while he took his last breath? Am I lying? Please tell me!”

“Shut up!” I screamed.

She hollered at Justin, and didn’t even seem to realize I was in the room, anymore. “You betrayed him, Justin! The man died thinking that his only son couldn’t care less about him. How the fuck does that make you feel, huh? How do you think it made him feel?!”

I could feel Justin’s entire body trembling beneath my touch and would have no more of it. “Okay.” I stood tall. “This is going to stop right mother fuckin’ now.”

“What?!” She screamed, focusing her fiery blue eyes on me. “Huh? Or what?”

“Or you’re not only going to be losing a step-father this week, but a cousin. Are you really willing to lose two family members in the span of seven days? You may think that you’re speaking the truth, Cloey, but all you’re doing is pushing Justin away, placing a burden of blame on his shoulders that could follow him for the rest of his life and, quite frankly, you’re pissing me the fuck off.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” She spat.

“Then you’re even stupider than I imagined.” I said, reveling in the shock on her face. “Now back the fuck off or I’m taking Justin and leaving this house.”

She laughed. “That will be easy. He’s an expert in that area.”

“Why are you doing this?” I spat, clenched my fists. “Why? Don’t you see he’s hurting over this? He’s just sitting here, taking all of your shit and not saying a word. Stop acting like a fucking monster, this man is your family. Don’t you understand that? Your FAMILY! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Oh please. What are you going to tell me next? That everything happens for a reason? That in two years we’ll be looking back on this whole moment and laughing? Doubtful.”

“What I can tell you is your about to get a fist in the mouth if you don’t shut the fuck up right now you crazy bitch!”

She stared at me, and I waited for her to say something—anything.

Just give me a reason to knock your fucking teeth in. I thought.

She didn’t say a word. Apparently, she was smarter than I’d imagined.

“I need to take a walk.” She spat, giving Justin one last accusatory glare before stomping out of the room.

I looked down at him, and he sat stoic, his eyes full of sadness and regret. I had no idea what to say. I had no idea what to do for him.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” He whispered.

I watched him stand and cross the room to the bathroom. The second the door was closed behind him, I put my hands on my head. If this was how his cousin was reacting, I could barely imagine his more immediate family.

This was going to be bad.

--

Later on that night, after following him all around the house, Justin and I sat side by side on his bed. We hadn’t said much to each other but he was visibly more relaxed now that he didn’t have to deal with his family, who had all gone to bed hours before.

“Well… were you two, I mean…” I knew what I wanted to say, and was only hesitating because everything seemed like the wrong thing to say. Even something as simple as ‘pass the catsup’ could become a complicated theory in my mind of whether or not it was the appropriate thing to say at times like these. “Were you close?”

“Does it matter?” He looked at me. “My mother loved him. I loved my mother. I love my mother. As if it wasn’t enough stress for her that I disappeared out of nowhere. Now this…” He lost his voice, and looked away from me.

If I could have guessed, I’d have said his room was bigger then the whole downstairs of the house. His room was painted red, something I don’t think anyone in their right mind would ever try, and it worked. The entire area was very unlived in and I was vaguely reminded of an Ikea catalogue I’d flipped through years ago.

“You couldn’t have known.” I said, after much thought.

“I don’t know if I can do this for another two weeks.” He whispered. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I thought you were only staying for the week.”

“I thought so, too. With everything that’s happened, though… I can’t… I can’t just leave. I was actually planning on asking you…” He paused.

“I can’t.” I said, already knowing what he was fixing to ask me. “I would stay… if I could, but I have school. I’m sorry.”

The way he looked at me after I said the words broke my heart, a little bit, and I was almost to the point of damning my classes or any other responsibilities I had just so I would never have to see that look on his face, again.

“I understand.” He said, staring down into his lap. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” He cleared his throat and looked towards the door. “I’m going to go to the bathroom, all right?”

Before I could answer, he stood tall and crossed the room to the bathroom. I followed him, having no idea why and ignored him when he looked at me like I was crazy.

“You going to help me roll my toilet tissue, or what?” He asked.

I didn’t smile, couldn’t, and just shrugged a shoulder. “You’ve just been going to the bathroom an awful lot today.”

“I have a weak bladder.”

That was almost convincing. “Since when?”

“Since always.” He said a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” I said.

“I’m fine.” He insisted. “You don’t have to act like this girl who has compassion and gives a shit about anyone else. I know better.” And, with that, he stepped into the bathroom, and closed the door on my face.

No, Justin, you don’t know me.

If you did, you’d know that what you just said made my heart fall to my feet.

I slept in the guestroom that night, and couldn’t keep my eyes closed for more than a few hours without opening them in panic. With each hour, I was hit with a new worry. All I could think about was Justin and what he was going through. I wondered if he was doing all right across the hall. I wondered what he was doing every time he went to the bathroom. If I’d counted correctly, he’d gone thirteen times since the moment we’d gotten there. I hadn’t seem him eat or drink anything all day, so these bathroom breaks were a mystery to me.

I thought back through all the days I’d known him, wondering if he always went to the bathroom this much.

On this trip down memory lane, my mind went to the night we’d first met, and I was reminiscing for all of five seconds before my breath caught in my throat.

The silence of the house was deafening as I jumped out of the bed. The second my feet hit the plush carpet I’d broken into a run. I pulled the bedroom door open and tried to hurry across the large, unfamiliar hallway without running into or tripping over something. I grabbed the handle to what I was sure was Justin’s room, opened it, and immediately closed it after my eyes landed on a sleeping Cloey. I took a second to think about what a bitch that girl truly was, before focusing on the doors ahead of me.

I opened door after door, finding games rooms, bathrooms, work out rooms, dance rooms, but no Justin.

“Where are you?” I whispered, after opening a door to the fourth empty bedroom I’d seen. I wondered if one of those empty rooms was Justin’s. If he’d waited for all of us to go to sleep before sneaking out to do god knows what.

I opened the door second closest to the end of the hallway and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. There he was.

“Thank god.” I sighed, stepping into the room and closing the door. He was fast asleep.

At least one of us was.

A white down comforter was bunched up around his feet. His body was long and lean. I wondered when he’d ever found the time to keep up an exercise regime in the last month. In Vegas, he’d followed me around so much that I was sure the kid hadn’t taken a shit without my knowing about it. He was laying on his stomach and even on the king sized bed his feet hung over the edge. He clutched two bunched up pillows in his arms and was probably drooling into them as I watched him.

As I looked at him, I wondered why I’d been so panicked in the first place.

Then I realized. This was going to be a time when Justin was going to have to do a lot of grieving and, from what I knew, he didn’t handle grief all that well.

I crossed the room to the bed as quietly as I could, trying not to wake him. Jumping into the bed, I was momentarily sidetracked by how soft it was. I crawled across the huge mattress to where he lay and threw one arm over his body so I could take a peek at his face.

Yep, he was asleep.

Good.

If he’s asleep he can’t fight me, which he surely would if he realized that I planned on sleeping with him tonight. I needed to be close to him. Not because I loved his smell. Not because he was the love of my life.

Because I was scared for him, and when it came to him I COULD be compassionate and I DID give a shit.

No matter what he thought.

I lay next to him and curled my hands under my head. Surprisingly, sleep seemed to be coming much easier now that I was next to him then I had when I was down the hall.

--

The second day in the house went by in a flash, with Justin walking around like nothing was wrong leaving me worried sick. Both of us did our damndest to avoid Cloey, at all costs, and she seemed to be doing the same. I’d yet to meet any more of his family members and he informed me that the funeral was in Tennessee and that’s where they all would be. His mother still hadn’t come home, and that was just another notch to add to his already stressed out belt. She wouldn’t even turn her phone on, and I was beginning to feel angry at her for doing this to Justin.

Of course, he didn’t feel the same. He felt like it was what he deserved.

Before I knew it, night was falling and I’d yet to see him upset, crying, or giving me any indication that he was at all affected by everything.

I stood outside of the bathroom door later that night, unable to move. The urge to put my ear against the crack of the large wood Justin had just disappeared behind was almost too much to bear. I didn’t need to do that, though. I knew what he was doing.

At first I was confused by Justin’s frequent trips to the bathroom during the day. By the tenth time, I realized that he was hiding. Very faintly, and only for a moment, I would hear a weep or a sniffle. One second, and it was enough to rip my whole heart in two.

He didn’t want to cry in front of me, so he was going into hiding. I didn’t know much about people, but I was sure that couldn’t have been healthy.

One thing was for certain, his family may have hated my guts, but until these bathroom breaks made a quick downfall I was not leaving his side. Period. Endo.

Leaning against the wall, I pretended not to be listening intently as I studied the carpeting, paintings and light fixtures that decorated the hallway. The house was immaculate, even for Justin. Everything seemed to be exactly where it was meant to be and every room smelled like home. I didn’t even know how to put a name to the scent that flowed around the house, but it was warm and inviting. Something that a palace like this definitely needed.

I jolted, startled out of my thoughts, at the sound of the door jam jingling.

Two seconds later Justin was in front of me in sweat pants and a wife beater. Leaning my head against the wall, I looked him in the eye, but didn’t say a word, preoccupying myself with cleaning the non-existent dirt from under my fingernails.

I knew he’d been in there crying, overwhelmed with guilt for his father, and I had no idea what to do for him.

I had no idea what to do for someone who was obviously going through so much, but hid it so well.

“You look good.” I said.

He smiled, but it wasn’t genuine. From a mile away I could spot the real one, and that wasn’t it.

“Too good for the circumstances… I hate to be tact, but…” My eyes fell to the ground and I shrugged.

“You hate to be tact?” He asked. His voice was horse. The smile on his face was gone as quickly as it was there, a frown eating away at the refreshing sight.

I stared at him, running around in my head for the right thing to say or do, but nothing came. Never had I experienced the burden of making someone feel better. Of comforting. My sarcasm was not only unwelcome, but more inappropriate that it probably ever would be. My sarcasm was like my third arm so, obviously, as I stared up at this broken man, the man I barely knew, I had nothing to say.

He looked so good that any person who walked by him would never know what he’d gone through. I wondered if that was normal. I wondered if it took time for things like this to kick in.

“What are you thinking?” He asked me.

“What are you thinking?” I asked. The way he looked at me was unfamiliar to me, so I asked again. “What are you thinking? It doesn’t matter what I’m thinking.”

“It matters to me.” He whispered.

“I’m thinking…” I wondered if I should just lie to him. “I don’t know what to do… what to say.” I answered honestly, and shrugged. “I want to cry for you, but it seems selfish since I haven’t lost nearly as much as…” I made myself stop talking and looked away. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes you do.” He said. “You’re Trevion. You always have something to say. You just don’t want to. This whole thing makes you uncomfortable, and I can’t blame you.”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel.”

“It matters to me.” He said. “It matters to me. You don’t have to follow me around the house, I’m not that fragile. I’m a strong guy. You don’t have to be so nice. You don’t have to be at my beck and call. You don’t have to let me sleep with you if you don’t… if you don’t want me to. I want you to be you. That’s the only way I’m going to get through this. You’re the only one on my side right now. I don’t know how to be me when you’re not being you. You know?”

I did know, and I was frightened by that.

We stood facing one another, struck uncomfortable by the silence we weren’t familiar with. Usually, words came so easily when we were together, now we were stuck speechless. The last few days had been an enormous slap in the face for us both and neither of us knew how to handle it.

“I just don’t want you to be alone.” I said. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to have to step outside of your comfort zone just because I’m going through this. On my own time, in my own way, I have to deal with all of this. On my own, Trev.”

The sight of him standing on the roof of my dorm a month ago flashed through my mind, and I fought to push it out.

I stared at him, wondering why he wasn’t listening to what I was saying. “Justin… I can’t leave you alone. I won’t leave you alone. Maybe I should say it a little fucking slower so you’ll understand.”

“Maybe I could say it in Spanish?” I offered. “How do you say ‘I’m not fucking leaving you’ in Portuguese? What about French? Italian? Because the good old English language sure doesn’t seem to be hitting any chords over here. I’m. Not. Going. Anywhere. Period.” I held up my hand and swiped it through the air to emphasize my decision. “Capishe?”

My entire body cooled over and I jammed my eyes shut to rid the thoughts in my head. When I opened them, again, Justin seemed concerned.

“You think I’m going to try and…” He didn’t even finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

My eyes immediately stung and I looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That was a long time ago. That night… I was a different person that night, Trev. That man that was standing on the roof that night, I…” He held both hands over his heart. “I don’t even know that person. I don’t know who I was that night, what could have possibly been going through my head. I’ll never understand what came over me back then. A complete mental shutdown, an out of body experience, I don’t know. But I wasn’t there, on the roof, I wasn’t there. But right now, Trevion? Right now, I’m here. This is me. All of me. Every inch.” He reached out to take my hand but I pulled it away. It seriously bothered me the way he could tell what I was thinking without my saying one word.

I locked both of my hands behind my back, not wanting to touch him. It was a lost cause, though, since just looking at him sent the very shockwaves I was fighting to avoid through touch right down my spine, anyway.

“Listen to me, Trevion.” He said, and waiting until I looked at him. “The only way I’m making my exit is the way god intends. Not by choice. I wouldn’t do that to myself, to my family… to you. I wouldn’t do that. You have my word.”

I looked him in the eye and tightened my hands behind my back. Several seconds past, and I didn’t even reach up to wipe them away as tears wet my cheeks. I mustered up all the courage I had and frowned. “That’s not good enough.”

He took a step away from me, like I’d just slugged him in the mouth.

“That’s not good enough for me.”

And I stood my ground.

When he turned and walked away from me, huffing and puffing, I followed. Halfway across the never ending hallway, he stopped and looked at me.

He opened his mouth, probably to yell, but I beat him to it.

“Five weeks ago you and I got in a big argument. I didn’t know you and you didn’t know me. The only thing we had I common was the fact that we were both there the moment you tried to kill yourself. I saved you because it seemed like the right thing to do, let you sleep on my floor because I felt sorry for you… for an entire day I convinced myself that you were just some temporary baggage that I didn’t really care about and would have gotten rid of by the end of the week. All it took was a day, Justin, one day and that was it. I was involved completely, one hundred percent. When we woke up the morning after everything and got into that fight, I was relieved because I would be rid of you and wouldn’t have to deal with the burden of giving a damn about someone else. But then…” I covered my eyes, damning the tears that I’d long ago convinced myself I was incapable of. “I came back from my classes and you were gone. All of your shit, which then consisted of a wallet, a key ring and a pack of gum, was sitting on my dresser. You bought me that new scarf. You thought of me when you didn’t have to… and I remembered wondering if people like you actually existed or if you were some pop star robot that a big man with fat pockets had concocted in some secret factory in New Mexico.” Justin guffawed, but I ignored him. “Then I saw the check you wrote. I remember reading a magazine when I was younger, one of those stupid teen magazines. There was an article about a girl who’d committed suicide and at the end of it they showed all the warning signs. According to them the first sign that someone is going to kill themselves is when they start giving away their possessions. No matter how insignificant or miniscule. So, of course, your handing over every penny you’d ever made sent up a red flag or two.” I laughed just to keep myself from crying. I could feel his hand on the back of my neck. He was squeezing it, and I knew he only did that when he was sorry. “I thought you were dead, and I’ll never forget the feeling that rushed through me. I’ll never forget the panic… the fear. Not ever. You don’t have to be sorry for leaving me with that memory. I’m actually thankful for it. I’ll never forget the way I felt when I thought you’d killed yourself, and because of that I’m not leaving you. I don’t care if you’re not the same man you were that night. I don’t give a god damn. I’ve only seen you grieve once, Justin. I’ve only seen how you handle the grief once. Once is more than enough. Maybe you don’t always go to the nearest skyscraper when things get rough. But you did it once, and once is too much. Period. I’m not leaving you alone. Period. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not next week. It doesn’t matter what you say or what you do, Justin. So you can make this easy or you can make it hard but I’m just letting you know that the outcome is going to be the same one way or the other until I’m satisfied, all right?” I pushed his hand away, suddenly angry at him, and wiped the tears from my eyes. “And it’s your job to cry. I shouldn’t be the fucking one crying right now. That’s officially your job, Justin!” I knew I was now rambling, but couldn’t have cared less if someone paid me.

“Okay.” He said, immediately, the way a man did when he was desperate to calm a frantic woman. “Okay.”

I nodded stiffly.

Okay.

“Trev… I didn’t know you cared so much.” He smiled playfully.

I scrubbed my face mercilessly with the back of my hands, angered by the tears. “Shit, Justin… neither did I.”

He swiped a finger across the side of my cheek, which I was sure was red and blotchy, then pinched it.

“Liar.”

I stared up and him and wanted to fight, but didn’t have the energy. “Let’s go to bed.”

I followed him into his bedroom and I could tell he wanted to protest when I climbed into bed with him. He turned his back to me, clearly to show his disapproval, but I didn’t care. I scooted as closely as I could to him without touching him, and tucked my hands under my cheek.

I waited for him to go to sleep for a long time. Even thought his back was turned to me and his eyes were closed, I knew he wasn’t sleeping.

“I’m just worried.” I said, knowing that he could hear me. “I know that you don’t want to cry in front of me because you’re worried about how it will look. What you don’t know if that it really bothers me that you won’t cry in front of me. I don’t feel like it’s healthy. I don’t know much about this kind of thing but I don’t feel like tucking yourself away from everybody until you pull yourself together is good for you. You have to let it out. You have to trust me, Justin.”

After that, I closed my eyes and tried to find sleep. I was so worried about him that I couldn’t keep my eyes closed for more than ten minutes tops. I didn’t know how many times I’d fallen asleep and woken up before I felt him moving next to me. I’d lost count after the third or fourth time.

The room was black as night, only illuminated by the tiny wasps of moonlight that peeked through the curtains. Faintly, I could hear him weeping next to me. The sound broke my heart and made me feel relieved at the same time. I knew it would be a long time before Justin truly healed, but at least he was on his way.

At least he was letting it all out instead of finding the nearest rooftop.

I curled up behind him and wrapped my arm around his waist. The moment I touched him, his weeps turned to cries, then sobs. He set his hand over his eyes so I wouldn’t see him, and I gave him that.

I held his as tightly as I could until he wasn’t crying, anymore, and only let go when I was sure he was near sleep. Every once in a while, his eyes would flutter open and he would look back at me. He was having just as much trouble staying down as I was.

I couldn’t understand what he was going through, but I wrapped my arm around his waist and told him my thoughts, anyway.

“I read a quote somewhere a long time ago. It said that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. You pushed through everything with Britney, and I’m so proud of you for that.” I whispered. He didn’t look at me, barely moved an inch, and I set my lips next to his ear, once more. “I know you’ll push through this.”

He didn’t respond.

Ten minutes later, he was fast asleep, which meant I could finally get some sleep.

As soon as I was about to close my eyes, my mind was struck with intrigue at the picture sitting on the nightstand. It was a triangular frame covered in sparkly diamonds that I would bet money were real. The gorgeous frame kept my attention for only a moment, though, and my heart stopped at the sight before me.

Justin had his arms wrapped around an older woman, both of them smiling gleefully. Behind them were the gates of the Magic Kingdom, a background that was perfectly accented by the ridiculous mouse ears they both had on their heads.

The pictures was obviously old, as Justin looked about twelve or thirteen.

The woman in front of him looked so familiar.

Too familiar.

It took all of two seconds for it to hit me.

The red hair. The curls. The outfit that was more appropriate for a seventeen year old in a 21+ club.

“Hey, are you Trevion?”

“No.” I said, out loud, hoping that saying the word would make it all go away.

“Noooooo.” I gasped. I reached over Justin, who apparently slept like a rock because he didn’t move and inch, and grabbed the frame beneath my shaking fingers. I flipped it over and opened it, pulling the picture out. On the back, written very sloppily were the words I was dreading.

Justin and Lynn Harless at Disneyland ’96.

The entire weight of my body rested on Justin’s back, as I could barely find it in myself to breathe, let alone sit upright.

She HAD been in Vegas the last few days, looking for Justin so she could tell him that Paul was sick. Apparently she’d had a hard time locating him and probably figured that I was her best bet.

Right?

“No.” I stared at the picture.

"Well, I live up in the Dalton dorms, okay? Drop me a line when you've found a tub top that fits, a straightening iron that's capable of taming that wild beast I'm sure you like to call hair and the ability to speak a syllable or two and maybe I'll be able to muster up the energy to ignore you. Okay?"

“No.” I said, again, but staring at the picture, my brain said what my mouth couldn’t.

Yes.

“NO.”

Yes.

I’d cussed out Justin’s mother.

“Well…” I whispered, setting the frame, which was now trembling under my fingers, back on the nightstand. “Well…” I swallowed.

I gazed down at Justin, who was still fast asleep, and tried to imagine what his reaction to this would be.

When I realized there was no way in hell it would be anything good, since the boy thought the sun rose and fell on his mother, I felt sick.

“Fuck.”

--

“Morning.” I greeted Justin with a yawn. It was seven AM and I’d been up for hours, unable to take my mind off of Lynn and the things I’d said to her. Somehow, against the wishes of my sleep induced stupor and guilt ridden mind, I’d found my way from his bedroom to the kitchen. I figured the only way to take my mind off of everything was to keep myself busy. Task number one: finding a way to cook breakfast in this massive kitchen. Task number two: tell Justin about the Lynn situation before he found out from somebody else.

Task number two make me want to puke.

So I pushed it out of my mind.

“Morning.” He responded. “You found the kitchen.” He remarked with a grin.

“I only got lost seven times!”

“I’m so proud of you, Trev.”

“How are you?”

He nodded. “I’m okay, I guess. Much better than last night.”

“Good. Good. It only gets easier from here.” I had no idea whether or not that was true, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

“You slept with me last night.” He said, as if this were information that I, myself, wasn’t already aware of.

“I know.” I said, absently.

Justin stood in the door jam of the kitchen and watched me as I hurried about opening and closing the drawers and cabinets of the unfamiliar area.

“Why?” He asked.

I continued searching the massive area, tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and tried to ignore his question. I looked up at him, saw his raised eyebrows, and sighed. “I was hoping that you’d wake up and make sweet, passionate love to me?” I said, as more of a question than an answer.

He chuckled. “No, really.”

“Really.”

“Look, Trevion, if you really wanted to have sex with me, I would have known. And we would have done it, already.”

I stood tall, putting a halt to my search. Looking into his eyes, I was comforted by how much calmer they were. “Your ego never fails to astound, J.”

“I’ve had sex with a lot of women. I know all the signs, all the moves. Unfortunately, I’ve yet to receive any of those from you.”

“A woman who didn’t want to have sex with you. That must have boggled your mind, huh, Timberlake?”

“It took me a few weeks to make sense of it. I finally realized that you’re actually one of the few women that really didn’t give a damn who I was, what I could buy you or what I could do for your career. The word refreshing doesn’t even begin to describe you.”

“So you weren’t, at all, disappointed that I didn’t want to sleep with you?”

He considered my words, then laughed nervously. “I’m not going to answer that.”

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

“Why do you want to know?”

I shrugged.

“I find you very attractive. I always have.”

“That’s not answering my question.”

“Why does it matter? Even if I did have those feelings for you, you don’t feel the same way so it would be a lost cause… right?”

“Sure.” I immediately answered.

“I understand why you've been coming to bed with me at night.” He said, his voice taking on a very serious tone. “And you don’t have to, anymore.”

“Don’t have to what?”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

"Well..." I stared at him, keeping my face calm even though my heart was feeling the exact opposite.  "Well, I do."  It was the most honest I've ever been with him. To avoid looking at him for another second, I continued my search, which seemed more like a lost cause with every drawer or cabinet that I opened.

“I know you do.  What are you looking for?”

“Knifes and plates.” I said.

“Plates are over your head and knifes are there.” He pointed to the drawers closest to him.

“Thanks.” I grabbed all of my supplies, sat them in front of me on the counter and began chopping.

“You cooking me breakfast?” He smiled like a true jackass.

“No, I’m cooking ME breakfast. If there’s any left, feel free to take my scraps.”

His grin widened. “You’re cooking me breakfast.”

I didn’t respond.

“Where’s Cloey?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and frowning with sleepy eyes.

“She went to the airport. Said she was going to Tennessee a few days early. I’d say we should could our blessings on that one.”

Justin smiled through his tired eyes. “She’s not a bad girl.”

“Really?”

“She’s just angry. She has the right to be.”

“Well, she didn’t have the right to talk to you the way she did.” I spat, chopping the onion before me to reflect my anger.

“I think she did.” He said.

I figured that he and I would just have to agree to disagree on that one.

“I guess it’s just you and me, then.” He said, smiling. “Since everyone is in Tennessee, getting ready for the funeral and my mom won’t turn on her fucking phone.”

I tried to ignore the last part of his sentence, since it reminded me that of what I’d done to his mother. Why am I such a bitch? I quietly thought to myself. My attitude was bad, I knew that, but it had never screwed me over quite as badly as it had this time.

“Yep.” I responded. “If I get lost in this ridiculously massive house, I have faith that you’ll follow my screams and save me.”

“I will.” He smiled. “Just don’t wander off past the game room. We’ve lost a couple of people that way. Mostly children. Poor little Timmy…” He somberly stated, staring off into space.

I tried not to smile at his stupidity, but couldn’t help it.

“The funeral’s in two days. I bought you a ticket to Tennessee and a ticket back to Vegas from there.”

I stopped cutting and looked at him. “Are you sure that’s the best idea?” I asked.

“What?”

“Me going to the funeral? Your family hates me. I think it would be a little disrespectful.”

“I disagree.”

“They all think I’m the reason that you weren’t around for your step father, Justin. It’s not like they’re going to welcome me with open arms.”

“They’re going to have to.”

“They WON’T.”

“They’re going to HAVE to, Trevion. You had nothing to do with my not being here for him. It was all me, and if I have anything to do with it, my family is going to know that by the end of all this.”

“You don’t have to protect me.” I whispered.

“If you can take care of yourself, why are you worried about coming?”

“It just seems like I’d be intruding on a really personal time for you and your family.”

“I’m pretty sure that my inviting you kills any chance of intrusion.” He said, and when I didn’t respond, he frowned. “Please come. I’m not exactly Mr. Popular and it’ll be good to have you there. You keep me laughing. You keep me happy.”

“Could have fooled me.” I said.

“What does that mean?”

I thought about what he’d said to me the other night before he’d gone into the bathroom. It hurt me more than I’d ever admit. More than I’d ever tell him, so I just shrugged.

“I hope you know I didn’t mean what I said last night. I’m sorry.”

How the fuck does this guy read my mind the way he does? It was starting to really irk me.

Unable to respond, because I was still a little hurt by what he’d said, I continued to chop onions like it was my life’s mission.

He leaned up against the counter and watched me at work for a couple of minutes, crossing his arms. “I suppose my feelings were hurt when you told me you couldn’t stay the whole two weeks.”

“I have school.” I growled, taking the knife to the onions now, with an unnecessary force.

“I know you do. You’ve always been dedicated to school. It’s one of the things I admire the most about you, lord knows I hated every second of high school. The thought of college....” He visibly shivered, then chuckled at whatever memory he must have conjured up for himself. “You can’t play hooky just because I’m going through this. You’ve always been there for me and I have no right to try and take over your life the way I have. I just took it a little too personally. All right? I’m sorry.”

I took in his words and felt a real desire to forget what he’d said and put it behind me. Then, I thought about the picture I’d seen on his nightstand the night before, and wanted to kick myself for having the nerve to be angry at him, at all. .

“Justin—“ I started to tell him everything. It seemed like the right thing to do.

“Hm?” He blinked, rapidly, and looked at me with raised eyebrows. It was as if I’d torn him away from a deep thought. I wondered what he was thinking about, as I looked up into his eyes. They were redder than usual and very tired. The kid was losing it by the second and, as I watched him, I didn’t have the heart to tell him, not then.

I cocked my head back, surprised at the emotions that were pouring out of me, and shook my head. “No… nothing. Forget it.”

“Tell me.” He immediately responded.

I stared up at him, wanting so badly just to tell him. The way he looked at me, though, like I was the only light in his life, his saving grace, made it impossible the say the words. He gave me way too much credit, that much was obvious, but I wasn’t quite ready to prove him wrong.

“Help me cut these onions.” I said, instead, opening the drawer beneath me and handing him a knife.

He smiled and took the knife from me, standing next to me so we were arm to arm. He took the other half of the onion and watched me for several seconds before trying to emulate me. I grinned and he sloppily cut it, leaving it looking choppy and gross.

He smiled sheepishly. “I’m not much of a cook.” He said, softly.

“Takes practice.” I reassured.

“Since when can you cook? I remember you made that Mac and cheese one night in the dorm room and, baby, it wasn’t the stuff dreams were made of.”

“Don’t call me, baby. And, hey, there’s only so much I can do with Craft macaroni, all right? I’m not even sure if that stuff is real cheese.”

“Me either.” He said, “Not after eating that.”

I punched him in the arm when he laughed. “Just shut up and cut. I’ve got a knife and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Feel free.” He said. “Take me out of my misery.”

My hand froze over the onion the second the words left his mouth. When I looked over at him, he was still cutting away, oblivious to the words he’d just said and my reaction to him.

I didn’t like to hear him talk that way.

In fact, I fucking hated it.

“Let’s do something fun today.” He said.

All I wanted to do was lay around eating junk, but the prospect of getting him out of this house and getting sentences like the one he’d just uttered off his lips, was too important.

I grinned. “Okay. What do you want to do?”

“Trace will be here in a couple of hours. We want to go see that new zombie movie.”

I didn’t know what I was more horrified by, the news that Trace was coming or the fact that Justin actually expected me to see a zombie movie.

“What are we making?” He asked.

“Omelets.”

Twenty minutes, five burnt frying pans and four cut fingers later, Justin and I sat at the massive dining room table eating our respective omelets. Or, better yet, I was eating while Justin toyed around with his, which looked nothing short of horrific.

“This is so gross.” He spat, cringing down at his omelet, which looked more like pigeon guts or Gak than something a person would willingly swallow into their system. “I told you. You should have made mine for me.” He looked up at me like I was the worst human being alive.

"Actually, Justin, I tried to help you with yours but you refused.  In fact, I'm pretty sure it was you that took our nice cooking session and turned it into some sick cometition just like you do with EVERYTHING." I took a big bite of my omelet and looked him in the eyes before rubbing my belly. “Mmm, that’s sooo good.”

Un-amused didn’t even begin to describe the look on his face. “Is it good, Trev?” He asked, throwing his fork against the plate, making it clank, finally giving up on his disaster of an entrée.

“It suure is!” I beamed, taking another bite. “Hey, Justin, earlier you said that the only thing you were bad at was making a cup of coffee. Apparently, I not ONLY kick your sorry ass in bowling but in the kitchen, as well. That is so sad, if you ask me.” I smiled gleefully before taking a sip of my orange juice.

From the look in his eyes, Justin was obviously doing his best not to pick up the steak knife on his plate and do me in for good. If anything got down to that boy’s last nerve, I’d come to learn, it was losing. Rub that loss in his face, and you were not only on his last nerve, but grinding at it with a jagged saw.

“Mm, this is just so damn good… maybe I should taste your omelet, Justin, and then taste mine so I can compare!” I picked up my knife and fork and went to cut his omelet. As I maneuvered my way around the disgusting thing, Justin never took his eyes off of me. I smiled. “Damnit, Justin… I can’t seem to find the egg portion of this omelet.” I giggled and turned it over with my fork. “Are you sure you didn’t run out into the backyard when I wasn’t looking and shoot down some poor pigeon? Because, honestly, this…” I stabbed a piece with the fork and held it up. “Looks, suspiciously like a liver.”

“Stop it.” He said, very calmly.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, setting it down. “Just a simple question.”

“So you’re a better cook then I am, so what?!” He beamed, finally letting it all out. "You a woman, that's your job, isn't it?"

“You know what? You're right, Justin, I’m not a better cook than you. I’m SUCH a better cook than you that they should have a cooking cemetery to bury the cooking disasters like YOU that cooking masters like ME murder in the kitchen!”

“You did not MURDER me.”

“I MURDERED YOU.”

“Trevion. You can’t murder me. Okay? I’m Justin fucking Timberlake. I am UN-murder able.”

“Well if your omelet is so god damn good why haven’t you taken one bite from it yet? Huh? Do you have an answer for that, Mr. Fucking Timberlake?”

Like I knew he would, Justin snatched up his utensils and chopped a piece of his omelet of before tossing it in his mouth. I counted the chews, he actually got all the way to five, before his face reddened. I watched in horror, even I couldn’t believe he would go as far as to eat that pile of shit, as he tried to swallow it. His internal organs would have none of it though, and the piece was barely down his throat before it hawked it right back on up, where it landed on the plate. Right where it started.

I burst into laughter.

I pointed at him in the midst of my laughter, and I was in such hysterics that I didn’t even realize it when he reached over from his side of the table.

He took my plate, with my PERFECT omelet, in his hand and gave me the fakest laugh I’d ever heard before flipping it right off of the table. The china landed on the tile below us with a clank, but didn’t break.

I stared down at the floor where my perfect omelet had been demolished, and almost started crying.

Justin, in turn, burst into laughter.

How OLD was he?

Seriously.

I decided not to make a big deal about this as the anger rushed through my veins. Calmly, I dabbed my lips with my napkin before setting it neatly on the table. I clasped my hands together in front of me, and closed my eyes for several seconds before cutting them to the laughing bastard.

“You have… five seconds.”

His laughter stopped immediately, and he looked at me, wondering if I was serious.

I smiled, pleasantly. “Four seconds.”

As if his brain started worked at exactly that second, Justin jumped from the table and raced out of the room like a flash.

“Threetwoone!” I screamed, before jumping up and rushing after him.

I chased him out of the dining room, through the kitchen, across the entry way, past the great room, through the den, and over the couches. His eccentric laughter reminded me of the laughter of a child when I chased him. And even though this dude was faster than a mother fuck, I would chase him for hours if it meant keeping that smile on his face.

Somehow, in our wild chase, we made our way back into the dining room. Justin stopped on one side of the table, leaving me on the other. He stepped left, and I followed, he flinched right, and so did I. The smile on his face was one of the brightest I’d ever seen.

“Trev…” His breathed heavily. “Don’t be crazy. Look, I’ll make you another omelet.”

“Nope! It’s too late. You shouldn’t have thrown my omelet on the floor in the first place. Poor you. Probably had no idea that you would surely die for pulling some shit like that.”

“You wouldn’t… really kill me. Would you, Trev?”

I laughted. “Justin… you have NO idea.”

In the middle of my sentence, he got bold and took off towards the kitchen. Too bad I was a gangster and was right behind him. We’d barely made it through the grand room for the second time before Justin fell. He’d tried to pull a Jackie Chan leap over the loveseat and ended up busting his ass, instead.

I circled the couch quickly and made no hesitation in leaping onto his stomach.  He jammed his eyes shut and groaned loudly at the pressure. My legs straddled his waist and I watched as he lay below me.

Exhausted.

Defeated.

“So, what?” I asked, breathing hard myself, as I stared down at him. I started counting off on my fingers. “I can kick your ass in bowling, I can kick your ass in the kitchen, and I can kick your ass PERIOD?! Aren’t you supposed to be a MAN, Justin?! Huh?”

Somewhere in between his gasps from breath, he managed to growl.

“You… didn’t… kick…” He swallowed hard, “My ass…”

I began playing with my fingernails, feigning boredom.

“I… tripped.”

“Sure, sure.” I sighed, tossing my hair back. “Hey, Justin, do you want to borrow some of my Lady Tai Bo tapes? You could probably use them.” I began giggling fanatically and cried out in horror when he suddenly reached up and grabbed both of my arms. Unable to react, since he’d done it so quickly, I was on my back before I’d even realized what the fuck was going on.

He rested his knees of either side of my waist and held my hands firmly above my head. I tried to fight him, tried to MOVE, but couldn’t. If I said that I wasn’t surprised, I would have been lying.

“Since when are you so fucking strong, huh?” I whispered. Now it was my turn to try and catch my breath. He was kind of hurting me, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t turn me on.

He gripped my wrists tighter, as if to confirm what I’d just said.

“You’re hurting me.” I gasped. As I stared up at him, I wondered if he’d been shirtless this entire time and how I hadn’t noticed it. The pajama pants he had on were tickling my legs and only heightening the sensation that the sight of his tense muscles above me were already creating.  His arms were huge, a true man's arms, and with every heavy breath he took, his abs tightened, which I would have guessed wasn't even possible.  Had he always had this body?  I wanted to ask him but was too embarassed to. 

“Who’s the man now, Trev?” He whispered, leaning down so his nose was a whisper from mine. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Who’s the man?” I asked. “Is there a man in this room?” I looked around. “I must have missed him.”

I giggled.

“Why are you always busting my balls?” He gasped.

“Because it's FUN.”

He watched me for a long moment, then let his nose graze mine. “Do you always smell this good?” 

“Uh… yeah.”

“Do you always look this good?”

“Duh.”

He grinned down at me. Both of us had come down from the high of running, but our chests were still heaving. We still couldn’t catch our breath. Clearly, it was due to the fact that we’d never been this physically close. Justin had never hit on me as blatantly as he was now. I wondered if this was his way of coping with the death of his step father. I wondered if he was really attracted to me, or just looking for something to take his mind off of his life at the moment.

“Okay, you can get off me now.” I laughed nervously. I was enjoying his presence, but I didn’t enjoy that it was probably only there because he was hurting, and needed to be close to someone.

He rubbed his nose along mine and I could feel his breath against my lips. I wanted to close my eyes as just enjoy it, but was too entranced by the sight him. How had I known him for so long and missed this entire side of him? Looking at him right then, he was sexy, curious, and ripe with all of the things that I’d never associated with him.

“Just…” His tongue jumped from his mouth and wet his lips.

I tried to remember my name.

He reached up a placed his hand on my face, holding it in place, when I saw his eyes fly to my lips and take on a lust filled glow, I gasped.

“Justin, wait—“

It was like he couldn’t even hear me as he dipped his face towards mine.

You should stop this. My brain screamed.

If you stop this, you're stupider than I thought. The other half of my brain screamed. It’s already happening, Trevion, you want it to happen, no matter how much you deny it. How bad could it really be?

I would never get to answer that question, apparently.

Just as I felt the slightest tease of a brush between our lips, the sound of the front door hitting the wall startled us both. Justin immediately flew off of me and stood tall. I would have stood with him, but stayed lying on the floor, lost in the moment that had been snatched from us.

I stared up at him, fully expecting the stupid remarks and profanity that always came from his mouth when Trace was near.

I heard no such thing, however, and my heart jumped at the expression on his face.

He whispered. “Mom.” Then ran towards the door.

As he disappeared from view I had to gasp for my next breath. And this time, it wasn’t because I was turned on.

I was because I was so angry at myself for not telling him about Lynn sooner, that I could hardly remember how to breath. She was here and it was too late.  The second she saw me she would tell Justin everything and I honestly hadn't the first idea how he'd react.    I was scared out of my mind. 

Damn it, this chapter cuts off, too!  You can read the last part here: http://www.sin.tasting-eden.com/sin14.html

I quickly stood, trying to control my body, which was trembling thanks to recent turn of events, and focused my eyes on the front door.

Surprisingly, Lynn was giving her son a very different hello than his cousin Cloe had given him the other day. The two embraced one another like two life long friends who hadn't seen each other in ages. I remembered Justin telling me that he was close to his mother, but I'd never realized how close until that very moment.

His mom was clutching him very tightly (Justin's back was to me) and she was crying. He'd hurt her so badly, that much showed in her face. She was hurt and confused and angry.

That anger only seemed to intensify, of course, when she opened her eyes and laid them on me.

Before I could say anything, before I could think to say anything, she had grabbed his hand, tossed me the nastiest glare I'd gotten in a long time, and dragged him into the nearest room.

The den.

It was a wonder that I didn't throw up.

--

They were in the den for almost an hour. I sat on the couch, right next to the very spot on the floor that Justin and I had almost kissed. On the outside, I probably seemed very calm and collected. I was anything but.

I wondered what Justin was going to think after his mother told him what I'd done. I wondered if he'd be angry. I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

That wonder left me shaken and, thankfully, I had little time to wonder anymore when I heard heavy footsteps behind me.

I hesitantly looked over my shoulder, saw it was Justin, and jumped to my feet.

He held his hand up. "Don't. You and I are taking a ride. Right now."

I didn't ask any questions.

I wasn't that stupid.

--

"Where are we going?" I finally asked, twenty minutes into the drive. Justin and I had yet to say a word to each other and I was overwhelmed with curiosity about where we were going. "Are you mad?" I whispered, frightened by how much I hoped the answer was no.

Justin looked at me, his eyes full of question. "Why would I be mad?" He asked.

I stared at him. Was he serious? "Well… I mean, everything with your mom and…"

"Trev." He smiled, softly. "What's going on between my mother and I has nothing to do with you. All I can do is thank god that you're here right now or I would be going crazy."

I stared at him, "But…."

"What?" He asked, letting a nervous laughter leave his lips. When I didn't answer, he frowned. "What, Trev?"

"But all the things I said to her…"

His eyes jumped back and forth from me to the road, genuinely confused. "Wait? What do you mean? When did you and my mother speak?"

I knew, at this point, I was gawking. At that point, it was more clear than ever that Lynn hadn't told Justin about our little encounter. I was so confused that I could hardly manage to be shocked. "Never mind." I said, too quickly to be convincing.

"What aren't you telling me?" He asked, quickly, making me wish I hadn't said anything in the first place.

"Nothing." I said, again, too quickly. "You were just being so quiet; I thought… you were mad at me."

"I have no reason to be mad at you, Trev…" He paused. "Do I?"

"Well… I think that depends on who you ask."

He kept his eyes on the road, making right and left hand turns every once in a while. "I just have a lot on my mind, that's all."

"I know."

"Don't worry about me."

"I'm trying." I said, frustration lacing my voice. I was sure that he and I both knew that I was well past the point of not worrying about him. Worrying about Justin lately was becoming like a second nature. "Where are we going?" I asked, allowing my frantic heart to calm down for the first time in two hours.

"It's a surprise." Justin grinned, widely.

"The surprise better not be Trace." I spat.

His smile got bigger. "Would I do that to you?"

"I don't know…"

"Trace called me while I was in the den. He's meeting us in Tennesee. It wouldn't make a whole lot of sense for him to fly out here since we're leaving tonight. It'd be a waste of a ticket."

"Where are we going?" I asked, again.

"We're here!" Justin answered, and it was in that moment that I realized, for the first time, we were in a residential neighborhood. The homes in this neighborhood were much more modest than Justin's.

Shit, every home in every neighborhood was more modest than Justin.

We both climbed out of the car and I followed Justin towards the house directly across the street. It was a one story home that stretched across enough to signify that it was probably huge on the inside. The lawn was neatly cut and it reminded me of the kind of house I'd see in storybooks.

The next thing I saw was a bright red Tonka truck in the yard. It was the kind that was made for little children to drive around in. I recognized it because I'd almost run over a child in one just like it a few years before.

Justin made it all the way up to the walkway before he realized that I was, not only, no longer next to him, but still in the middle of the street.

"Are there children here?" I asked in response to the look of question on his face.

His eyes narrowed and his neck craned. He said, "Yeah…" Very slowly, as if he hoped he had time to change his answer.

Immediately, of course, I shook my head. "No… I don't do children."

--

His name was Steven and, yes… he was a child.

A five year old child.

I leaned against the fancy little rental care behind me with my arms crossed, watching in pure fright as Justin carried a little bundle in his arms from the house, down the driveway and towards me.

The first thing I noticed about the child was that he was a child, of course. In addition to that frightening fact (as if that wasn't ENOUGH) his hair was out of control. It was the kind of hair that couldn't decide whether it wanted to be curly or straight, and settled for something in between. The hair of the child's head also seemed torn about what color it wanted to be since it was half strawberry blonde, half dirt and grime.

If I wasn’t mistaken, as Justin approached me with that monstrosity of a kid, smiling brightly, the only thing that was clean on that little boy were the clothes on his back. He carried a GI Joe that had seen better days between his crusty mitts and had the thumb on his other hand perched lazily in his mouth. It was as if he wanted to suck it, but didn't have the energy to push it all the way between his lips.

Dirty and lazy? This kid wasn't what dreams were made of, that was for sure.

His eyes were just as blue as Justin's, so I instantly knew they were siblings. In fact, if I wasn't mistaken, the wide, sky-blue orbs that stared back at me were even bluer than Justin's. This, of course, meant nothing but trouble.

"Trev." Justin smiled after he'd crossed the street and had the cortecy to stop a few feet in front of me with the monstrous being in his arms.

I was four feet away… from a child.

The things I did for this man.

"This is my main man, Steven!" Justin proudly pronounced, bouncing the filthy little freak on his hip.

"Has Steven had a shower lately?" Was the only thing I could manage to ask.

"I took a bubble bath, sometimes!" The child answered. "My mommy makes me took a bath when my booty itches."

I stared at Justin, who seemed highly amused. "Well, Moms are good for that sort of thing, I hear."

"Yeah." The young person, agreed.

"Why does he speak in the past tense?" I asked.

Justin smiled. "Trev… he's five."

The boy shoved his GI Joe in my face, making me jump back, afraid that it may have been a weapon of some sort. He took his thumb out of his mouth long enough to cry out. "This is Davis!"

"That's great." I tried to act interested, but couldn't. I threw Justin a helpless look.

"Steve, this is my friend Trevion."

"Hi, Trevie!"

"Who is Trevie?!"

"You are!" He giggled.

"No."

"Trev…" Justin shot me a warning glance. "Be nice."

"Justin… I already told you. I'm not good with children. I don't like them. They don't like me."

"Steven seems to like you." He said, and I couldn't argue, since it was true.

"Are there any more children?"

"Yes."

"No!"

He sighed. "There is one more, yes, but he's not coming."

Thank god, I thought.

"His name's Jon and he's a few years older than Steve. I guess my step-mother's already poisoned his mind with rumors about me just like the rest of my family. I'm going to have a long talk with him later…" He paused, and I could tell he was so hurt by the way things were going. I felt so bad that I almost forgot about the scary being he had in his arms. When he bounced the kid on his hip, again, I was instantly snapped back. "Fortunately, the Stevester here isn't as easy to brainwash."

"The Stevester." I said. I couldn't hardly believe those words had even left his mouth.

"I'm happy to meet you, Trevie. My mom told me to said that to people when I first met them 'cause it's polite. But I really is happy to meet you, though. Is you happy to meet me? Is you Justin's girlfriend? I thought Britney was Justin's girlfriend. Did Britney not like you no more? Huh Justin?" The child, who'd sneakily hid the fact that he was such an insufferable motor-mouth, turned his attention back to me when Justin didn't answer. "Did Britney not like him no more? Huh, Trevie?"

"Who is Trevie?!"

Steven seemed confused. "You!" He finally answered.

"Common." Justin nodded his head across the street. "We're taking my truck. Steven's car seat's in there."

"We're droveing in the truck?" Steven asked.

"The child is coming with us?" I interjected.

"Yes." Justin answered both of us then smiled, sweetly.

That smile was not to be trusted.

--

Five miles onto the highway, Justin finally confirmed my suspicions.

He had something up his sleeve.

It wasn't until we were both in the back room of a 7-11 (Steven had to pee) that he finally came out with it.

"So, I don't know how I forgot to tell you, but you, Steven and I are going to get a few things done today."

I stared at Justin, half asleep from sitting so long in one place, but not asleep enough to miss the fact that he wasn't saying everything that needed to be said. "And what activity, pray tell, could possibly require you, Steven and I to be there… all at once?" I paused. "Together?"

The smarter side of me was afraid to hear the answer. The dumber side? Curious.

Justin smiled. This did nothing to ease my anxiety. "Disneyland." He answered, with an expression on his face that made me wonder if he already knew that the very place he'd just mentioned was one of my worst nightmares.

I actually laughed out loud, right in his face, but the smile was gone the second I realized he was serious. "Disneyland?" He nodded, without taking his eyes off the door of the little boy's room I was sure I looked horrified. "Disneyland is like… my worst nightmare."

"I have no trouble believing that."

"It's bad enough that you're actually expecting me to spend more than fifteen minutes with that demon child, but… the fact that you seem to truly believe that I would subject myself to the torture chamber that is Disneyland in addition to your motor mouth brother..." I scoffed, then laughed. Once again, the smile dropped when Justin's didn't falter. "Do you know me, at all?!" I beamed.

"Are you serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" I paused, waited for him to answer and, when nothing came, continued. "Thirty minutes after I tell you that I hate children you up and invite me to fucking Disneyland? Tell me you're not that dense, Justin, tell me you don't see the irony in that."

"I'll never miss the irony in any situation, again. Not as long as I have you around."

I sputtered, then looked out into the front of the store, hoping this was the end of the discussion. He was really stupid if he thought I'd ever step foot into Disneyland.

"I just want Steven to have a fun memory before all this shit in Tennessee goes down. He loved Paul, so much."

"Oh Christ." I cried. "If you try to guilt me into going to that hell hole then you are one heartless son of a bitch, Justin."

"A heartless person is a person who hates Disneyland."

"A sane person, Justin. A sane person is a person who hates Disneyland."

"Then what's your excuse?"

I pointed at him, willing myself not to punch him. "You're cute." I spat. "And I'm ignoring you now, for your sake."

"What are you going to do? Huh? Finger me to death? Have you forgotten, so soon, Trev, how I kicked you ass earlier?"

I chuckled. That was all I could do to keep myself from jumping on his back. And, with the way things had been going between us, who the hell knew what that would turn into.

"You did not kick my ass." I said, matter of factly, unable to keep quiet. "You're three times my weight, I only come up to your shoulder and you had my hands pinned over my head. In a fair fight, I would have kicked you’re ass."

"All right, Trev." He said, patronizingly. "Whatever you say."

"Fuck you." I frowned at him.

"So… you're ready for Disneyland, then?"

I laughed, really laughed, this time, but didn't respond.

"We'll get to cut all the lines because.. Well…" He attempted to appear bashful. "I'm Justin Timberlake, and all…"

I put my hand on my hip, leaned against the wall and looked into Justin's smiling face. "Is that your persuasion?"

"Trev…" He whispered, stepping close to me, so closely that I could feel his breath against my ear. For an instant, I was taken back to the position we'd been found in right before Lynn had arrived. I fought to catch my breath, and fought even harder to appear unaffected. When he reached out and put each of his hands on my hips, I struggled to recall the miracle of speech (so I could spit a sarcastic comment, making me appear much cooler on the outside than I was on the inside) but nothing came. "Trev… it's the happiest place on Earth."

"Again, your persuasion?"

"Common…"

"Do I look like the kind of girl who belongs in the happiest place on earth?" I dared to turn my head and look into his eyes. He was so close that I could see the tiny hairs springing from his chin, his eyes were almost gray from where I stood.

"You are… you just don't know it. Yet." He tightened his fingers, which were still on my waist, tickling me slightly. When I jumped, his eyes gleamed, and my own caught fire.

"Don't." I warned, almost reading his mind.

A smile so bright crossed his face that I had no other choice but to be afraid and I screamed when his hands, which were still on my waist but had transformed into something that resembled claws, squeezed the sides of my waist, again. I screamed and tried to pull away, but his hold on me was firm, and he pulled me back.

"Are you ticklish?!" He beamed. I shoved him away as hard as I could, crying out, when he not only held onto me, but continued his assault on my waist.

"Stop!" I beamed, not knowing whether to laugh or cry as I pointed a warning finger at him. "I fucking hate to be tickled. I will only say this once."

When his smile didn't falter, I wondered if he heard a word I'd just said. "Oh… this is…" He rubbed his hands together. "Fucking priceless."

Needless to say, fifteen minutes, five physical attempts to knock Justin out and seven relentless (and even more vicious) tickling sessions later, I'd agreed to accompany him and the devil child to the happiest place on earth.

Only because I knew, if he had tickled me one more time, I would have killed him.

I really would have.

The truth? I was afraid that if I let him touch me for another second, I would surely finish what we'd started earlier that morning.

--

"Trevie?"

I kept my eyes straight ahead, gazing out of the windshield of Justin's rental car as he zoomed across the 101. I could only assume that the freeway we were flying across was the road to Disneyworld. I could only pray that it wasn't.

"Hey, Trevie?"

Despite the child that never shut up, otherwise referred to as Steven, I preoccupied myself with counting every line that passed us on the road. So far, I'd gotten to thirty-seven.

"Trevie? Hey, Trevie? Could you heard me up there? Justin, could she heard me?"

"Of course she can, buddy." I heard Justin say from next to me. I didn't even have to look at him, I already knew what expression he had on his face. When we hit a red light, his nightmare of a brother still calling my name, he turned to me. "Trevion… will you answer him? He will not stop calling you until you answer."

"Fuck." I whispered. "What kind of family do you live in where people pay actual attention to the children?"

"I don't know, Trev, maybe my family is different from all of the other family's. We like to answer children when they call. We try not to cuss in front of them, sometimes we even give them something to eat or drink and, if they're really good… we let them out of their chambers to catch the last ten minutes of Roseanne."

"No." I gasped.

"Yes. But that's only on really special occasions. Most of the time, we'll give them a hand mirror. If they adjust it at just the right angle and squint their left eye, they can see the TV from behind the bars."

"Shut up." I spat. I knew I was the reason he was such a smartass. Didn't mean I had to like it.

"Trev, just answer the damn child." He got into the turning lane and flipped his signal on. "Answer him." He said, again. "He likes you."

"All the more reason to ignore him." I reasoned.

"Trevie, could you heard me?"

"My name is Trevion. Trevion!" I finally responded, telling myself to be patient.

"Huh, Trevie?" The shrimp chirped, much to my annoyance. "What did she said Justin? Huh? What did Trevie said?!"

"My name… Is not… Trevie!" I turned to him. He was sitting in a car seat in the back. His feet were swinging absently back and forth as he toyed with the half destroyed GI Joe in his hand. When I looked into his eyes, he smiled, showing that nasty snaggletooth smile.

"Can't you guys get this kid some braces, or something?" I asked, cringing openly at him.

"He's five." Justin laughed.

"Why does he call his GI Joe 'Davis'? Why doesn't he just call him Joe? Why does he say 'said' when he means 'say'? Why does he say 'did' when he means 'do'?" I gazed amongst the child as if he were an alien life form.

"He's five?" Justin said, again. Being the smartass I'd taught him to be, of course, it came out as an unnecessary question as opposed to an actual response.

"Say it with me, kid…. Treeevvvvioooon."

"T-t-t…" Steven sputtered, as if he were sounding something out. "T-t-t… TREV… Trevi… Trevie!" When he saw the look of horror on my face, the proud smile on his own fell. "Trevie?" He asked, unsure, this time.

Justin burst into laughter. I made a face at him which Steven found enormously funny.

"You're funny, Trevie!" He said, pointing at me while he laughed. He clutched the GI Joe to his chest and glanced at Justin. "She's funny, Jussin."

Justin watched the young boy in the rearview mirror. "Yeah, she is, buddy. I knew you'd like her."

"I do like her." Steve said, gazing out of the window, not speaking to anyone in particular. "Davis like's her, too."

"I think his name's Joe, Steve. That's what it says on his jacket, see." I turned in my seat, yet again, and roughly fingered the tiny jacket on the action figure, underlining the 'Joe' with my nail. "See?"

Steven did not 'see'. In fact, he looked truly confused.

Seconds later, the dumb look on his face was replaced with an even dumber smile. "Do you like me, too, Trevie?"

"No. I hate all children."

"Hate is a strong word." He said. Clearly, these weren't his words, but the words an adult had hammered into his poor, unsuspecting little head. "I don't hate you, though, Trevie. I like you, and so do Davis."

"You hear that?" Justin asked. He had sunglasses covering his eyes, but I could almost see them shining. "He likes you."

"I really should just go ahead and develop some kind of pill for all you Timberlake’s. For some reason you all see the good in me that isn't there. You see kindness where there is none. You enjoy my cruelty. The worse I treat that kid, the more he likes me. I should try being nice to him, then I'll get him out of my hair."

Justin laughed out loud. I didn't know if he was laughing at my plan or at the very thought of me being nice. Either way, it was insulting.

"Maybe he sees past all the bullshit." He said, a couple of minutes later. "Maybe, Trev…he actually sees you and likes what he sees looking back."

As he said the words, he looked me in the eyes, and I thanked god we were at a stoplight because his attention was on anything but the road. As we watched each other, I wondered if he was talking about his brother… of himself.

I would die before I asked him this, of course.

"Maybe he's just confused." I offered.

"Nope. It's a proven fact that children can see right through people. They can see right through the bullshit, all the way down to the real person. You know transvestites? Guys that dress up as girls and vise versa? They say that the main people in the world that can read them, you know… for who they really are? The main people who read them are other transvestites… and children. Children's senses are very keen, they know what they like and they never lie. They're what human beings should be… but aren't. They're what we'll never be."

I stared at him, really stared, for a long moment, and then laughed. "I'm sorry. You lost me at the transvestites."

Steven died laughing in the back of the car, even though I'm sure he didn't even know what we were talking about.

Justin laughed, as well, I didn't know why he was laughing, either.

Before I knew it, I was laughing.

Why? I don't know. I did know one thing, however.

I was no longer drinking the water in the Timberlake house or any water that Justin supplied to me. He had to be putting something in it that was turning me into this woman that went to Disneyland, tolerated frightening little children and laughed for no good reason.

He had to be.

--

"Fuck, is it hot outside or is it just me?!" I beamed.

Directly after the word fuck left my mouth, Steven covered his own. "Uuuuuuuuuum!" He beamed. I stared down at the dwarf, truly confused, until he pointed at me. "You said the 'f' word!" He accused, with so much accusation in his voice that you'd think I'd just stabbed Mickey Mouse to death in the middle of his home turf.

"So?" I asked.

"We don't cuss in front of children, Trev." Justin said, from where he was walking on the other side of Steven. "It's is hot as a son of a gun out here, though." He said, tugging on his shirt to let some air in.

"Is that the kind of thing you say when you're censoring yourself?" I asked, frowning beneath the sun as we cut in front of the ticketing line (the only positive thing I'd gained out of the whole experience so far was that Justin was allowed to cut all the lines). "Huh? You say 'sun of a gun' instead of 'son of a bitch'--"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuummm."

I curled my lip at the pinched little person below me, wondering if he was just fucking with me with this 'uuuuuum' shit.

"I said 'witch' Steve. Not 'bitch'."

"Uuuuuuuuuuummmm."

"Oh my god." I gave Justin a look that clearly conveyed that I was mere seconds from murdering his youngest sibling. Not only did Justin fail to be as concerned for his brother's life as he certainly should have been, he appeared almost… amused. "I think you're underestimating how close I am to murdering this child. God, how hot is it? For the love of god!"

"It's one hundred and one degrees!" The overly-old, overly cheery ticket teller hollered from behind his booth. He wore a pair of Mickey ears identical to the one's Steven had on his head. The only person in our group who appreciated his enthusiasm and ears, of course, was Steven.

Even Justin shared my look of disgust, as we gazed in on the man. "Don't you guys have any kind of device that can like… shade the park from the glare of the sun?" I asked.

"Oh no!" The man laughed, joviously, much to my annoyance. "Disneyland is over 400 acres. There's no way we could shade all of that. Besides, who needs shade when you're in the happiest place on earth?"

I stared at him, his smile everlasting, and chuckled, half frightened, half amused. "You're fucking with us, right?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuummmm."

I ignored Steven. In fact, I'd half expected the surprised looking man in front of me to release that disapproving 'uuuum' more than the child below me.

The moment, he gave us our tickets, we took them and hurried away.

"We're not even through the gates and I'm already scared for my life." I said to Justin. The sun was beating down on us and, once we passed the ticket taker, we were met with two giant gates that were wide open, welcoming us to a place I'd long ago deemed the scariest place in the world. "My fear is not exactly subdued by the massive, steels gates that await us." I added.

"It's okay, Trev." Justin wrapped an arm around my shoulder while both of us kept an eye on Steven, who had made a mad dash for the gates. I was truly baffled by anyone so eager to subject themselves to the hell that lay beyond those bars. "Before you know it, you'll be having fun."

I stared at Justin who, at this point, was nearly pulling me towards the gates. "How much money would you put on that?"

"Every penny." He whispered. "By the end of this day, my brother's head will be in your shoulder."

"Only if he's sucking my blood." I responded. "Which I wouldn't put past him."

Justin grabbed me in a headlock and gave me a noogie until I screamed, when he pulled away, I shoved him as hard as I could.

"Fucking asshole!" I screamed.

"Uuuuuuuuummm!" Justin brought his finger to his lips, partially shadowing his smile.

I curled my lip. "Don't give me a reason to kill you."

--

"Trevie… is you gone rode the rides with me?" When I didn't answer, Steven tugged on my hand. After practically arm wrestling with the little monster not even five minutes into the park, he'd somehow gotten his grubby mitts around mine. I willed myself not to imagine the various germs and infections that must have lived on and between his five year old fingers. "Huh, Trevie? Is you gone rode with me?"

"God… no." I said, dryly, unable to look down into the heathen’s wide, innocent eyes. They were lethal, I tell you.

"Of course she'll ride with you, buddy. We both will."

"Don't volunteer me for a ride that I don't want to ride!" I immediately screamed at Justin.

"Don't be mean to him!" He screamed back, before smiling. "You know you like him, baby. Don't fight it"

"DON'T call me baby."

"You know you like that, too. Don’t fight it."

"DON'T flatter yourself."

He laughed.

"You make me so sick, Timberlake."

"Did you got mad at him, Trevie?"

"Your brother is just so good at pissing me off, Steve, you just don't know." When the mutant stayed silent, I looked at Justin. "I guess the shrimp doesn't consider pissed a cuss word."

"I guess he's burnt out from censoring your dirty mouth."

"I guess he's finally learned that there's no censoring Trevion Spencer."

"I guess you're his new girlfriend now, since you're letting him hold your hand."

"I guess he practically ripped my hand off with his own when I refused to hold it, giving me little to no choice."

"You never let me hold your hand."

"Oh Lord."

"Don't say the Lord's name in vain!" Steven cried. The fact that he said 'say' instead of 'said' proved to me that this was, yet another, phrase that some adult had drilled into his head.

"How about Steve holds that hand, and I'll hold the other one." Justin offered.

"But then what hand would I use to slap you across the head when you do, and or say, something stupid?" I asked. "This is inevitable."

"That's an excellent point."

"Did you want to hold Trevie's hand, Jussin?" Steven asked.

"Trev doesn't want to hold my hand, buddy." Justin answered, rubbing the top of his head.

"That's cause she liked me better." When Justin didn't respond, Steven looked up at him. "She liked me better than you, Jussin."

"Don't be silly, Steven." I interjected, "I hate you both, equally."

"Hate's a strong word, Trevie."

"My name is not Trevie."

"What did you said, Trevie?"

"Forget it." I rolled my eyes. "Steven, my hand's getting a little sweaty, what do you say we take a little break?"

"No!" Steven screamed, with so much enthusiasm Justin and I both jumped.

"Would you just let him hold you hand, Trevion? This way, buddy."

I stared at Justin, feeling truly betrayed. "Is it not enough that I agreed to come to this fiery pit? Is it not enough that I'm actually clutching this germ infested child's hand in my own?"

"I don’t gets no germs!" Steven beamed, clutching my hand tighter, as if this proved his point.

"Do you have any idea the bacteria that children pass around to each other on the playground?" The very thought made me shudder. "Do you have hand sanitizer?" When Justin didn't answer, I looked down at Steven, "Hey, buddy."

"Hey, buddy." He repeated as he smiled his black hole of a smile up at me.

"Wouldn't you rather hold your big brother's hand? Huh?"

"No!" He cried, and emphasized this answer by reaching up with his other grubby hand and gripping it around the one he was already holding. I now had two, count 'em two, virally infected fingers wrapped around my previous child-free hand.

"Oh, fuck it!" I beamed.

"Ummmmmmmm!" Steven said, coving his mouth and shaking his head at me. His eyes were wide and parental, making me roll my own. The only good thing I could gather from the little censor machine was that his 'Ummmmm' required him to release the death grip he had on my hand - even if it was just for a few seconds - to cover his mouth. His had was right back where it started, wrapped around mine, within seconds.

I quietly reminded myself to swear as much as humanly possible for the rest of that day.

"Fine." I said, giving in and letting him clutch both of my hands in his. When I looked at Justin, he was looking back at me, smiling like a proud parent would smile at his children.

I shook my head. "I'm going to have to burn that hand now, anyway, so…" I scoffed. "Go nuts."

And go nuts, Steve did. He clutched my hand in both of his (it was only a matter of seconds before he was swinging from my arm like a jungle gym) all the way to the first ride, the Tea Cups.

"Tea cups, Trevie! They go round and round and round and round and round and round and round." The nightmare continued this chant, while rolling his head around and around. If I didn't know any better, I'd have guessed he was possessed.

I cringed at him. "Who needs heaven when you've got the Tea Cup ride?"

"I know!" Steven enthusiastically agreed.

"If you don't throw up on this ride, you wont throw up on any of them." Justin actually said these words to me as if I should be comforted.

"Great!" I cried.

Steven was completely oblivious to my sarcasm. Totally blinded by my cynicism. It was what I hated the most about kids. How do you push away a child that would not be pushed away?

"How do I get rid of him?" I thought out loud.

"You can't." Justin answered. "And, quite frankly, I don’t think you want to, Trevie."

I glared up at him. Traitor.

"It's Trevion." I spat. "And I've got a very strong inkling that your brother will be murdered at my hands by the end of the day."

"Well, I've got a very strong inkling that you'll be putty in his hands by the end of the day."

I cringed at him. "You've got to be fucking stupid."

"Uuuuuuuuummm!"

I stared at Justin. "I call that 'end of the day' and raise you an 'end of the hour'."

--

Seven, yes I said seven, hours into the scariest place on Earth, I somehow still had my hands barricaded between both of Steven's as he drug me up and down, back and around the park that was everything I always imagined it would be.

Hot, hellish and frightening.

Children were everywhere, at every turn. Even if I did see an adult every once in a while, they were (more often than not) as deliriously happy as the children themselves. The moment I saw a grown man run past Steven and I in a pair of bunny ears, giggling profusely, I was sure that my fate had been sealed.

I would die a slow, miserable and insane death before I made it out of this place.

It didn't help that, two hours in, the four foot nightmare and I had completely lost track of Justin. Steven, of course, immediately assumed that he'd gotten lost, but I knew better. Justin's disappearance was too convenient, and I was convinced that he'd purposely ducked out and was hiding away so he didn't have to participate in all the Disneyland fun.

I think, when it came to Disneyland, Justin was just like me, but didn't want to admit it.

At least five times that day, I'd been convinced that Steven and I had ridden every ride… twice. Unfortunately, the runt always managed to prove me wrong. He always managed to find a ride he'd yet to drag me on. We'd proceed to ride said ride at least three more times before moving onto the next one.

Had we taken a break? No. When you're in Disneyland with a five year old boy there is no such thing as a break.

"NO BREAKS! NO BREAKS! NOOOOOOOOOO!" Was the response I received when I dared suggest the monster and I grab some water and take a quick breather.

Of course, since I was now more scared for my life than ever, I didn't dare mention a break, again.

For every adult I saw that looked as miserable as I felt, I gave a small smile. It was good to know I wasn't alone in my suffering.

Somehow, Steven and I made a full circle around the park (this was easier for us than most since we were able to cut in line. Even though we didn't have Justin with us, we had the special pink wristbands that meant we could cut in front of everyone).

"I think it's about time for us to go home so we can get ready to fly, Steven."

At the mention of us leaving the nerd didn't freak out like I'd imagined he would. I quickly came to learn that he was more excited about flying to Tennessee than he was about Disneyland.

"Is the plane gone be high in the air, Trevie?" He asked me.

"Yes."

"Really REALLY high?"

"Yes, Steven."

"Like… REAL HIGH?!"

"Yes! Yes, Steve! The plane is going to go high, okay! Higher than Mars! Higher than Shaq! Higher than your imagination could take you!" I beamed.

"My 'maginatium?"

I wanted to correct him, but didn't have the energy. "Yes." I exasperatedly whispered.

He contemplated this, then smiled. "Okay."

And thatt was the shortest conversation we'd had all day.

Somehow, god must have been on my side, I convinced Steven that we would ride the tea cups one more time before we'd page Justin and go home. The child agreed to this with such ease that I was highly skeptical.

I held onto his hand, tightly (the last thing I needed was to lose him, too. Never in my life would I purposely pawn the motor mouth off on some poor, unsuspecting soul) as we were lead through the Tea Cup line).

Each person that we passed looked on at us like we had two heads, of course. They hadn't seemed quite as bitchy about it when we'd had Justin between us. The looks of disgust, however, were something Steven and I had grown used to that day since Justin had been missing for several hours.

"Why do they get to cut in line?!" One extremely large woman had screamed earlier that day.

"Please, excuse us, Miss! Little Timmy only has a few hours to live so we want to get him on all the rides before he croaks!" This was one of the better excuses I'd give.

"Because we fucking can that's why!" Was one of the worst.

Ironically (or not) Steven had nothing to say about my dirty mouth when it involved getting us to the front of the line. Oh no, he didn't have any 'uuuuuuums' then. He didn't have shit to say then.

As we cut in the front of the teacups, like always, somebody had something to say.

"Hey, no way! Uh uh! I've been waiting in this line for forty five minutes! There’s no fucking way you two are getting in front of me!" The man yelling had a voice as powerful as a giant. The midget and I were both startled. The second I turned to the man, saw that he was middle aged, heavy, ugly and mean I was no longer afraid, just angry.

"Even if we're pushing in front you're still going to get on the next go around, all right? So calm down." I said, holding my hands up in peace. I hadn't realized Steven was clutching his arms tightly around my legs until I let my arms fall and felt him next to me. He was afraid, and for that I felt (astonishingly) protective.

It didn't take long for the man to lose his temper, completely.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?! Me and all of these people behind me got in line and waited our turn and that's what you're going to fucking do, too even if I have to move you to the back of this line my damn self!"

"Oh hell no." I covered both of Steven's ears with my own and looked at the man before me with fire in my eyes. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but nobody talks to me like that. If you'll take a look at the wristbands that myself and this child are wearing you'll see that they're pink. We paid an extra two hundred fucking dollars for these wristbands so we could cut in the fucking lines and we're going to cut in the fucking lines. If it bothers you so much why don't you reach into your god damn pockets, that is if you can fit your fat ass fingers in there, and pony up the dough so you can cut in line, too, you asshole!" Of course that was all a lie, but the man before me was clearly, stunned, as was everyone behind him, who were now covering their children's ears, too. Just when they thought I was finished, I thought I was too, I covered Steven's ears, again, and they followed suit with their kids. "And don't you ever fucking cuss in front of my god damn fucking kid, again, you piece of shit!"

For the last time, I took my hands off of Steven's ears, just as the gates behind me opened.

"Um… I can take the next twenty people." The teenage ride attendant was clearly nervous of both me and the big man behind me as he motioned to the cups. "Ma'am?" He said, pointing to the closest Tea Cup.

"I don't want to rode it no more, Trevie." Steven whispered, still clutching me. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off of the giant man, and looked like he was near tears. "I don't want to rode it no more."

"Okay, Steve." I grabbed his arms and picked him up, cradling him on my hip. He immediately put his head in my neck, hiding his face from the man. "You see what you did. You fucking scared him. I should kick your ass." I said, but instead, began pushing my way through the line. For the most part, everyone immediately stepped out of my way.

They were smart.

Steven didn't move his head from my neck until we were well away from the Tea Cups. When I looked at him, I saw that he was just fine.

"Did you got mad at him?" Steve whispered, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around my neck. "Huh, Trevie? Did you got mad at him?"

"Yeah, Steve."

"Did you said a bad word?"

"Well, yeah, but he deserved it!" It was at that moment that I realized I was justifying myself to a five year old. "Where is your brother?" I asked, feeling truly infected - infected with the contagious disease that all children carried around on their clothes, in their hair and on their skin.

You try to ignore the warm feeling you get in your belly, the natural protectiveness you feel for someone who curls up against you, trusting you, completely - but you can’t. You realize that, even if only for a second, you kind of… like it.

Even if the subject is a motor mouthed, curse-word-police, freak of a child with a GI Joe named Davis.

No matter how hard you try to resist the little bastard, the day somehow ended with his head in your shoulder.

--

"How could you abandon us like that?! Do you realize what we fucking went through?!"

"Do you realize what we went through, Jussin?" Steven mimicked.

Justin was pulling the car out of the Disneyland parking lot. We'd managed to find him only after paging him.

"I didn't abandon you!"

"You abandoned us!"

"Well, I'm sorry. We lost track of each other. People lose track of each other at Disneyland, it's a big place."

"That's bullshit." I spat.

Justin looked back at Steven, as if he were expecting the inevitable 'uuuuuuuum', then looked at me, accusingly, when nothing came. "What did you do to him?" He asked.

I stared at him, wondering if he were serious.

"I really am sorry." He said, smiling. "But you guys didn't have to page me. The second my name came over the loud speaker people were on the lookout. It took me forty five minutes just to walk the hundred feet it took to get to you guys. Then another twenty to sign autographs for the people that were waiting at the paging station." He was whining worse than the child in the backseat had whined all day.

"Well, boo fucking hoo, Justin."

"Yeah, boo fucking hoo, Jussin."

"Don't say that!" Justin screamed at Steven in the backseat. It wasn't until I saw both of them watching me like I had two heads that I realized I'd just screamed the exact same thing.

"Oh my god." I whispered. "I'm a parent." I turned in my seat, watching the Disneyland sign slowly disappear behind me. "Drive faster Justin!" I beamed.

He laughed.

"I'm serious. Get me out of here."

"I don't know, Trev. I kind of want to keep you here."

"This is exactly why I didn't want to come to this fucking place."

"Uuuuuuuummmmm!"

"Your baby brother just signed his death warrant."

--

Justin, doing me the first favor he'd done all day, dropped me off at the house while Steven and him ran by McDonalds to pick up something to eat for later on. I wasn't hungry, nor was I up for another second breathing the same air as that child.

He was infectious, and I could let myself get attached to the likes of him. It was bad enough that I was getting attached to Justin. The last thing I needed to add to that list was a little ass kid. Especially one as dirty as Steven.

The first person I saw when I walked through the front door, unfortunately, was Lynn.

She was sitting at the vast dining room table, which was right next to the front door. Until I'd come in, she was staring off into space, thinking about god knows what. On the outside, she looked amazing (especially for her age), much better than she had when I'd run into her in Vegas. Our eyes met, I quietly contemplated how much she must have hated me, and immediately looked away.

"I just wanted to say I was sorry… about everything." I said, staring at the staircase in front of me instead of the woman I was apologizing to. "I don't apologize much, but when I do… I really mean it. I hope that's good enough for you." I looked at her and when she said nothing, began making my way towards the stairs.

Apart of me wanted to run up there, pack my bags and catch the next plane. I wanted to run away from all of the new feelings I was having but didn't want to deal with. Running away was one thing I would never do. I knew how it felt and, even if he was being a dick and a half, I never wanted Justin to know that feeling.

I wouldn't wish that feeling on my worst fucking enemy. Not even Kim.

At the thought of abandonment, something I felt a strong desire to exercise at the moment, I immediately thought of my mother. Anger consumed me, so I forced myself to think my next thought, which was JC. I'd almost forgotten about the conversation we'd had right before Justin had brought me down here with him. JC knew where my mother was, so did Justin. They'd spoken to her! They knew her. They knew her better than I ever had, and I was her daughter.

I stepped into Justin's room. If I had thought I couldn't have possibly been any more angry, the thought of my mother proved me very wrong.

"God." I spat into the air, wishing there was someone around that I could really rip into. Ripping into people, however, had become less and less fun as time went by.

"Darlin'?"

"God!" This time, the 'god!' was a horrified one, not an angry one, as I turned on my heel and found Lynn standing in the doorway, arms and legs crossed over each other. She looked just as surprised as me, I'm sure, because I'd just screamed in her face. "For the love of fucking Christ!"

She grinned. "You must have been waiting all day to get that 'fuck' out, huh?" When I looked at her crazy, she shook her head. "Steven. He's serious about those dirty words."

"Yes he is." I said. "Cute kid." I added, but it was nowhere near convincing.

"Mmhm." She agreed. The lady knew she was country, even when she was saying words that weren't even words (like mmhm) she still radiated everything Tennessee. When you heard her voice you immediately thought Elvis, home cooking and chivalry (which was very much dead, I don't care what anyone says). That's how country she was.

It was right then, at that very second, that I realized this woman was supposed to hate me. I wondered why she was up here talking to me, and if she had a knife or weapon hidden behind her back.

Except that her arms were crossed in front of her chest.

She smiled, again. Today, she was in a form fitting, but gorgeous, purple turtleneck and a pair of khaki pants.

"I like your shoes." I said, before I could stop myself.

She looked down at the shoes on her feet and laughed. "I suppose black boots are more appropriate than stilettos for a woman my age, right?"

"Look, Lynn, I meant what I said downstairs when I apologized…."

"I know you did. That's why I came up here. To tell you that you don't have to be sorry. In fact…" She stepped into Justin's room. It was a space that she was comfortable in, I could tell. "I came up here to apologize to you."

"To me?" This was one fucked up day if I ever had one.

"Oh, believe me." She laughed. "When I first came into this house and saw you here… I was very angry. That anger wasn't exactly swayed when I realized that you and Justin had been, very much, in the middle of something."

"We weren't in the middle of anything!" I beamed, a little to quickly. I shook my head at myself, immediately after. Sometimes I felt like I was really falling apart.

"It's okay." She laughed, while taking a seat on the side of his bed. I stood in front of her, my arms crossed. "There's not a woman on this planet that can resist my son for more than a few days. You lasted a whole month, of course… but you didn't last."

"Justin and I are just friends."

"I'm not here to interrogate you."

"There's no reason to interrogate me."

"Okay." She said the word the way a person said it when they thought you were a filthy liar but were too nice to say it.

"Justin and I have never kissed. We almost did… right before you walked in, but…" I jammed my eyes shut. "Why are you talking to me?" I asked, a little too bluntly.

"You remember when Justin pulled me to the side this morning? Into the den?"

"Yes." I said. I remembered it vividly, in fact, because I'd been mere seconds from throwing up all over the floor. "Then he came out without you, we went to pick up Steven and went to Disneyland. The scariest place on earth, if you want my opinion."

"You're funny." She said, smiling.

"It's a popular opinion. I prefer honest."

"That too." She nodded. "Anyway… he pulled me into the den and he told me everything."

"Everything?" I asked. I was hesitant to question whether or not he'd included the part about him killing himself, but didn't want to be the first to tell her if he hadn't. Selfishly, I hoped that he had, so I could have someone to talk to besides JC about Justin. Someone who really knew him.

"Everything." She confirmed. "JC, Brintey, the roof… you." She smiled after she said "you" and I immediately wondered why. "Justin and I share everything. When he lost his virginity, he told me first, I gave him his first cocktail, his first joint… everything. I want him to have his freedom, I GIVE him his freedom, and in turn… he gives me what every mother longs for in their child. Honesty."

"Wait! I'm sorry, but everything after the word 'joint' went in one ear and out the other. Is Justin a weed head?"

"Heaven's no!" She beamed, laughing. Within an instant, she was serious, again. Since the moment she'd sat down, she'd been sitting up straight. For such a laid back woman her demeanor was very… conservative. "Justin was under a lot of stress… he STILL is, and had a hard time dealing with it, very often. He's better at it now, but… back when he was eighteen or nineteen he would come home after some terribly bad days and nothing helped. Not aspirin, not alcohol, not me, not Britney - who was just as stressed as him an equal amount of the time - so we took up pot." She said, so casually, that I sputtered. "It worked, for a while. He took it sparingly and only when he really needed it. I haven't seen him with one in a couple years, actually. Paul was happy when he quit… he hated it. Everything about it, the unlawfulness, the smell…" At the mention of her husband, Lynn lost herself in the middle of her sentence and stared off into space. From the distress in her eyes and the sadness in her voice I was immediately aware that Paul was a husband that she had loved deeply. Probably her best friend outside of Justin.

I stood, quietly, not knowing what to say. I wished that I had known Paul a little better, so I could offer some kind of reassurance.

"He hated it." She whispered, again, her eyes still glassy. Moments later, as if she were under a hypnotic trance, she snapped out of it. "That's beside the point, though…" She sighed deeply, as if she'd just finished running a seven minute mile. She must have been exhausted. "The point is… Justin told me what you did for him. He told me all about you."

Before I could get truly mad, or even entertain the fact that I was misunderstanding her when she said everything, Lynn said. "He was standing on the ledge and you walked up and stopped him. He said that he turned around, saw this beautiful girl… and forgot why he wanted to jump."

It was the corniest thing I'd ever heard, but it sent my heart racing. I assumed this happened because I'd never heard such a corny thing spoken in relation to me. When I imagined Justin saying them, for the first time, I realized what weak knees felt like. I realized that he'd better apologize to me really fast, or I was going to forgive him before he did.

"At first I was very upset. I tried to be understanding, though, just in case he was still… fragile. After we talked for a while I couldn't see anything in him that changed. He was at his worst when he first arrived in Vegas and you… you fixed him." She said, for lack of a better word, it seemed. A smile pushed her lips. "I remember I said, 'Baby, you were going to jump off the side of a building and a girl was what stopped you? Are you living in a Lifetime movie, or what?'"

I loved her, immediately.

"But he said it wasn't just that. He said that you talked him down from the ledge. He said that when he was finally back on his feet, looking into your eyes, he could hardly fathom what he he'd been about to do. He said you were mean to him. You wanted him out of your hair. You didn't give a damn that he was Justin Timberlake. What you probably didn't know what that these were three primary things that attracts him to a woman." She laughed.

I'll be damned if I didn't know that now. that I was secretly happy I hadn't known those things, or I would have never known him. That was a thought I didn't want to entertain for a second.

"Yeah, he said that, from the moment you two met you could have had him, that he was putty in your hands. You didn't care about any of that. All you cared about… was that he never tried to do that to himself again. That was all you cared about. That's it." She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "Now that Paul's gone… Justin is all I have. He is my everything. Yes, you cursed at me that day, we got off on a very wrong foot. You're probably half the reason that Justin and Paul will never have a goodbye, but… I can get over that. Because if you weren't so unpleasant, my boy probably wouldn't be here, right now. So you go on being a bitch, Trevion Spencer. You bitch, and you bitch and you bitch to your pretty hearts content because, in the end, that's who you are. That's who saved my boy. That's who my boy loves."

I don't think she even realized she'd used the word love and I was far too frightened of the word, all on it's own, to dare question it. I wouldn't even allow myself to entertain the thought of Justin using that word and my name in the same sentence. I was already in to my knees and was very aware of the risk I ran of completely submerging myself in Justin and how good he could make me feel. Baby steps, that how I wanted to take this. The words "love" and "baby steps" were three words that could never co-exist.

"So… I guess I just wanted to tell you that." She sighed and slapped her knees, as if I was her thirteen year old daughter and we'd just gotten done having a long, uncomfortable sex talk. "Where's Justin?" She asked, as if she should have asked it long ago. She looked around the room like she expected him to be hiding. "Huh?" She asked, when I didn't answer.

I stopped staring off into nowhere and looked into her eyes. "Um… him and Steven are out getting McDonalds, I guess."

"You guess? From what I've heard you and Justin haven't seen the world away from each other for so much as five minutes in the last four weeks."

"I guess."

"There you go, again with the guessing. I wish he'd have told me he was going there." Lynn said, without hesitation. "It's not like him to just up and go places without telling me. I suppose he's been doing a lot of things, lately, that aren't like him, though…" She began staring off into space, again, and shook her head as tears wet her eyes. I could tell, without her having to say anything that she was thinking about the roof and everything else. "I can't believe he'd try to do something like that. Why didn't he just come to talk to me about it? He talks to me about everything else."

Immediately uncomfortable, I crossed my arms. "I don't know." I whimpered with nothing better to say.

Lynn quickly waved a hand at me. "Look at me, blubbering over here, making you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable." I said, even though I was.

She began to stand from the bed. "I need to start packing for Tennessee, anyway. We're leaving for the airport at eight. That's just a few hours. You're coming, right?" She asked, looking at me in mid-stand.

"Yeah." I said. "I have to leave right after, though."

"You have a black dress, right, sugar?"

"Yeah. It'll never walk down the red carpet but… it'll do."

"Okay good." She sighed, stood tall and smiled at me. "Thanks for being there." She whispered. I didn't know if she meant for her or for Justin.

I shrugged. "I've got great timing, I guess.&qu

If this chapter cuts off for you you can read the rest here: http://www.sin.tasting-eden.com/sin14.html 
--
When it comes down to hunting their prey, Justin Timberlake fans could easily rival twenty foot tiger sharks when it comes to sheer, not to mention blind, determination. The two animals--Timberlake fans and sharks, that is-- are similar in several fashions. They both spend most of their time searching for they're next meal, they both come at you, hard and fast, when you least expect it and they're both known to engage in very unprovoked attacks (this point is driven all the way home when Justin's fans run after him while he's running away from them). The only real difference I've ever been able to discern between the two species is that, while they are a lot bigger and a lot faster than the average teenage girl, tiger sharks are, for the most part, completely incapable of calling their prey on the phone... at six in the morning... on a Saturday.

"What?" I spat into the phone, which had started ringing for the twelfth time that night-- or day, depending on who you asked. If I guessed right, it was almost seven o’clock in the morning. Which meant that, if there wasn't a phone between us, the asshole who kept calling would be a dead woman at the hands of Trevion Spencer. That was assuming, of course, that it WAS a woman. It was definitely one of Justin's fans, which meant there was a 2 out of 3 chance that it most certainly was.

Silence followed on the other end of the line and a small, girly voice whispered. "Is Justin home? I heard about his father and I just wanted to--"

I took my cue from Justin, who'd stopped picking up the fucking thing after the fifth call, and hung up on the girl before she could finish talking.

I looked at the clock. It was three more hours until the funeral.

Then I wondered, what on earth could possess these idiots to think that Justin wanted to hear their voices, of all voices, right now? Most of the calls that had come in (god only knew how several dozen of his fans had all of a sudden gotten their hands on his GRANDMA'S phone number) were not calls of genuine sympathy. They were the calls of rabid teenage girls who just wanted to hear his voice. The girls who set there goals a little higher, as many did, probably planned on showing their sympathy and then taking complete advantage of the pop star in his sensitive state.

However annoying, his fans certainly were persist and undoubtedly thorough. The next one that called, though, was getting some serious lip.

I looked at the clock. Two hours and fifty seven minutes until the funeral.

"Trev."

His voice startled me. I looked over at Justin, barely able to make out his face since his monster of a little brother had thrown half of his arm over my forehead somewhere in the night. I'd stopped trying to remove him from my body after the tenth time it happened. I was a woman surrendered to a five year old and his flailing limbs.

I could barely make out Justin, and what I could discern was a very tired young man. His eyes were closed tightly, as if he were determined not to wake up, fully. And his voice was more hoarse than a fifty year old woman who'd been smoking for twenty five.

"Stop answering the fucking phone." He groaned, before he buried his head in the pillow.

"Maybe you should tell your asshole fans to stop calling." I whispered back.

"Uuuuummmm..."

I stared down at the sleeping monster beneath me and almost laughed. "The little rat is a hardcore Christian when he's sleeping, too? What's to stop me from killing him?"

"Shut up." Justin mumbled into the pillow.

That pissed me off, and I wanted to cuss him out.

I fell asleep before I could.

--

When I woke up, Steven's hand had retired itself from my face, fortunately.

Unfortunately, said hand had been immediately replaced with the little animal's disgusting foot, who's big toe was hanging on the edge of my lip.

I swatted the foot out of my mouth in disgust and was mere seconds from pounding Steven into oblivion when I heard the unmistakable laugher of Justin Timberlake from the other end of the bed. I turned that way, fully expecting him to be just waking up, as I was.

I was surprised, however, when I found the man of the hour sitting in a chair next to the bed, fully dressed, and watching us. Me and the troll, that is.

"Were you watching me sleep? I don't know whether to laugh or run. You're crazy, Timberlake."

"Yeah." He agreed. "Crazy about you."

"Oh, shut UP.

He continued to sit quietly, chin in his hand, observing .

"What are you looking at? I know this…" I pointed to my face. "Aint a pretty picture in the morning, but you don't have to gawk. Not all of us shine as bright as the sun at…" I glanced at the clock. "Six AM?!" My face turned to stone. "I'll save you a seat in hell."

He continued to stare, unaffected as always, then, out of nowhere, "Who's that guy? The one that walks you from class, sometimes?"

"What are you? Stalking me?" I laughed, and when he didn't, my smile fell. "Justin?" I whispered.

Justin then asked, conversationally, as if this entire discussion hadn't just come completely out of the left field of Jupiter. "What's his name?"

My eyes widened.

"What?" He smiled.

"Maybe I should warn Chet that he has a stalker. Well, he's probably used to that. I think you would probably be the first of his stalkers with a penis, however."

"His name is Chet?"

"You're actually serious?"

"How well do you know him?"

"Justin… it's six am."

"It's just a simple question."

"You know what else is simple? Shooting someone in the head. That doesn't make it right." I turned away from him to go back to sleep, then shot him a look, "But you are mere seconds from such a fate, Timberlake. Just a little warning."

"I was just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"How well do you know him?"

"It is too early for this shit."

"I just want to know where I stand… that's all."

I eyed him carefully. "About three feet away from me. The perfect distance to drive a spear through your chest." When he didn't laugh, I groaned. "Chet is kind of like that mosquito that you keep swatting away that always comes back for more. You know the kind. The kind that seems to enjoy the abuse? The kind that craves more and more? That's how Chet is. Not that I think about it…" I laughed. "He's a lot like you."

"So he basically barricaded his way into your life."

"Basically."

"And you hate him?"

"Consistently."

"Everything you just said proves that you like him."

"You have no idea how close you are to death." I rolled my eyes. "Are we done? Maybe you've forgotten, of course you have, you're a man… but I have cramps. Can I sleep now? It's six am."

"Actually, it's not six am, it's one in the afternoon."

My mouth dropped, then I realized that I had gone to bed at five in the morning. "You let me sleep until…" I gasped. "Justin! The church! We're late for the funeral. It's--"

"Already over." He interrupted. He must have seen the shock on my face, because he immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, Trev. I just didn't want you there. I didn't want you to see…" He paused and it was in that instant that I became aware of the puffiness in his eyes, his stuffy nose and how horse his voice seemed. "I didn't want you to watch me fall apart."

My heart pounded with anger as well as sadness. All I could say was. "Oh, Justin."

"I only have you for seven more hours and I just want to be with you like I always am. Laughing, being stupid and enjoying life.

"I wanted to be there for you." I said, frowning.

"I didn't want our last few hours together to be at a funeral. I don't want you to know the sight of me breaking down. Not in front of you, not for the third time. I don't want you to pity me…" He paused, then, in the next instant. "I don't want you to go."

I immediately covered my eyes. "Justin… I have school. You know that."

"Fuck… I just don't want you to go. I just wanted to tell you that. Okay?"

"Well, you've told me. I officially feel guilty. Congrats. Can I sleep now?"

He shook his head. "No. There's an after party starting in an hour and everyone wants to meet you."

I stared at him. "An after party to a funeral?"

"Mom said that's what Paul always wanted. He said he wanted everyone to be happy on the day of his funeral, not moping around."

I stared at him, took in his words, but all I could manage was a faint, dead. "Hm."

Then I realized that I would be meeting his family. The very people who were partially involved in the existence of the limb thrower that was still dead asleep on my left.

"Um…" I shook my head. "No."

--

The moment that Justin, Steven and I walked into Justin's Aunt Betty's house, where the "after party" was taking place, Justin gave me the lowdown as all eyes settled on us and all conversation halted.

He whispered in my ear. "Aunt Betty was never allowed to wear colors as a child, that's why this entire house is pink. She's seeing a therapist for it. Stay away from Uncle Jim. Every family has a pervert and he's ours. Cousin Valerie lost all of her hair when she was a child and is still bitter. If you value your hair, at all, you wont let her near it. Velma is a hard core Republican… say one negative thing about Bush and you're lucky if you leave here with both of your legs. Don’t eat the spaghetti. Elvis is the King, fried chicken is a delicacy and Charlie Daniels is god."

I was officially scared for my life.

He finished,I knew he could see the distress on my face, but didn't seem to care. "Smile and be friendly… it's only for an hour-- hey, Uncle Jim!"

As Justin jumped into Uncle Jim's arms like he hadn't just got finished calling him a pervert while Steven and I watched from the stands. I found myself clutching his little hand. It was only a matter of time, though, before he'd found some little kids he wanted to hang out with more than me and abandoned me, as well.

I never thought I'd live to see the day that I regretted losing Steven Timberlake.

Slowly, hesitantly, I made my way into the foyer, preparing myself for a very long hour of being ignored.

"Hey, everyone, look who's here!" A big woman with even bigger red hair beamed.

Like a flash, Justin was next to me. "Everyone." A silence fell over the room. "This is my good friend, Trevion."

"Yeah. We know." The all said this at the same time, as if they'd practiced that shit before we came.

"She had nothing to do with my leaving. Be nice to her." Justin added.

I stared at him in absolute horror and didn't tear my eyes away until he was out of my sight.

I looked around at my surroundings. Justin wasn't lying, EVERYTHING was pink. Pink walls, pink furniture, pinks electronics, pink pool tables, pink bathrooms, pink Tupper wears. Pink… everything.

I headed over to the only place I felt comfortable, the long table of food (which was also, you guessed it, pink). The first food item that caught my eye was the one that smelled the best.

The spaghetti.

Justin told you not to eat that. My brain told me.

Then I looked around. Most of the eyes in the room were still on me, which I'd grown used to in the passing weeks. The last thing I wanted to do was get to know any of these people. Eating seemed like the best way to avoid any real conversation. And the spaghetti DID smell good.

Besides, from what I could see… everyone else was eating it.

What was the harm?

Just as I was about to stuff my face, three triplets approached me. I was immediately reminded of Pamela Anderson.

"Hey, you're that chick from the magazines." One of the blonde's said. They were all the same height, appeared to be the same weight, and had the same empty, sapphire blue sparkle in their big eyes.

I stared at the three of them, then down at their tits. Now, I was no lesbian, but even I couldn't keep my eyes off of those things. "Uh… yeah." I said.

One of them smacked her lips. "Well, we're here to see Justin."

I rolled my eyes and went back to the spaghetti. "I'm sure he'll be very pleased."

"Like… do you know where he is?" One of the triplets asked.

"Like… I think he's over there with his pervert uncle… like."

They all stared at me.

"Oh my god." One piped up. "Are you mocking us?"

"Oh my god." I giggled. "Can you spell mock? Here, I'll give you the first three letters, okay? Like, M… Like, O… Like, C…"

"We’re going to see Justin… bitch." They all tossed their hair over their shoulder at the same time and I couldn't even get angry because I was so amused.

"Make sure your tits don't beat you there!" I called out to them.

Bitches.

I was officially annoyed. And what does Trevion Spencer do when she's annoyed?

She eats spaghetti.

And lots of it.

--

Twenty minutes later I could hardly take a deep breath, didn't know where Justin was, had been felt up by Uncle Jim, twice, and was doing all I could not show how badly my stomach was cramping.

"Are you okay, darlin'?" The heavyset redhead, who I'd come to learn was the Pink Panther herself, Aunt Betty, came up next to me and put her hand on my shoulder.

I couldn't speak past my churning stomach, and shook my head.

"Oh, sugar. Do you want some sweet tea?"

I gagged.

Aunt Betty gave up on me. She was a smart woman.

As soon as she hurried away from me, my phone rang. I picked it up on the first ring and was more than a little disappointed that Justin's voice wasn't the one I heard.

The voice I did hear made my stomach turn even more.

"How did you get this number?" I spat. "Huh?" I cried. At this point, I probably seemed like nothing sort of a drunk on crack looking for her next hit. I didn't care. I was teetered somewhere on the dangerous edge of puking and diarrhea, neither or which seemed very promising. How could I be expected to behave like a normal human being.

"Trevion?" JC said from the other end of the line, as if it would be someone else.

"How did you…" I couldn't finish.

"Hello?" He asked. "Hello?" He tried, again, louder, this time.

"God." I whined. "I'm sick. Can you call back later?"

"No."

"Please?!"

"I just wanted to say… I heard about Paul, and I'm sorry..."

"Why are you saying sorry..." My heart felt about ready to bust through my ribcage and right out of my chest. "Why are you apologizing to me?"

"I'm sorry. I just called you to tell you."

"Tell me WHAT?"

"... Just in case you wanted to warn Justin... or not..." He was quiet, again, then, "I just got on a plane. I'm flying to Tennessee..."

"No!" I screamed. This, of course, caught the attention of every person in the room. I wanted to scream 'No, JC!' but, thankfully, his name got stuck in my throat before I could. "No!" I beamed, again.

But he'd already hung up.

It was a good thing, because, right then, I threw up.

I sat next to Justin in the den a while later, absently watching the TV, my hands tucked between my thighs and my brain racing. Since the moment we'd arrived in California I'd felt like an outsider looking in. Wondering who everyone was, who they were talking about in conversations and who was more important in Justin's life than the other. I'd met a few dozen of those people so far. I'd disliked most of then, just like he said. They didn't like me much more, just like they'd said.

Then it hit me, the one person that was probably at the top of the most important list, Paul Harless, Justin's step-father, was the one person I would never meet. I wondered if the two of them had been close, but didn't ask. I was afraid to say anything and was afraid that if I attempted to console him for the millionth time it would come out sounding so wrong just like it had every time. He was watching the TV before him, blankly, and I could see clearly that Paul was on his mind. Justin could go for hours, smiling and laughing, then, out of nowhere, Paul would jump into his head. I could always tell when this happened, because his entire demeanor changed every time.

Now was one of those times.

Then, I thought, looking at him, there was the matter of JC. The man was a gigantic idiot if I'd ever met one. The very thought of him coming down to Tennessee to console Justin both frightened and infuriated me. I didn't know why he was so hell-bent on ruining what Justin and I had and what little he and Justin still had any further. I didn't know how else to explain to him that forcing himself into Justin's life was not the solution. Justin had to be the one the come to JC.

I wondered when he would realize that.

Somewhere, deep down, however, I knew JC was right about one thing. I didn't want Justin to find out that I'd been talking to JC behind his back. I didn't want him to look at me and see Britney reincarnated. I didn't want to be the person who solidified everything he always believed-- that he was a man to be taken advantage of, a man to be used, a man to be lied to, and not much more.

I never wanted him to believe that, because he was so much more to me.

I was sure that if I'd been nicer to JC, more accommodating to him, he wouldn't be so eager to make all of this so hard on me. Finally, just like everyone always said it would, my attitude was coming back to bite me in the ass.

JC would fly to Tennessee, come to the house, and tell Justin everything. He would explain everything that I'd done behind his back and tell him that I wasn't worthy of him. That I didn't deserve him. JC was the only person on earth that could do what he'd done to Justin and still have the audacity to trash the one woman he still cared about.

And he would be right.

Justin had really long, nice fingers. I'd never realized that until that moment, with both of us sitting in silence. He was fiddling with his cell phone in his hands and I was watching because I was too afraid to look at his face. I knew that sometime in the next hour or so I was going to have to tell him about JC before JC did himself, but at that moment, looking up at his face, I just couldn't. I couldn't be the person that made all of this harder for him.

We sat in front of the TV, facing the huge window of the den. The moon that night was full, bright and shone in on us. It was almost as if the thing was taunting us. I imagined JC's car pulling in the drive. A wave a nausea, fear and anxiousness took complete hold of my bones.

Tell him, my body screamed.

I looked up at his face. The door to the den had been locked when I came to see him. I assumed he must have been crying after he'd left the bathroom and didn't want me to see. I'd wondered whether or not I should force my way in there and try to comfort him since that was how they did it in the movies, but I hadn't. I hadn't done a damn thing for him since the moment I'd met him and saved his fucking life. Such a favor seemed minute next to the fact that I was the reason he'd soon slammed in the face by JC tonight. I was the reason that his mother probably spent all day in a city she wasn't familiar with searching for him because I had a ridiculous urge to make everyone around me feel as miserable as I did.

I was doing nothing but bringing him down.

"Trev?" He whispered my name, softly, but I barely head it. "You okay?" He asked louder this time. He sniffled and I looked into his eyes. They looked so tired, so different than they had moments before.

"I'm fine." I answered. It wasn't until I'd opened my mouth and wetness poured in that I realized I was crying.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, calmly.

That was the moment. That second. That was when I should have told him, apologized and begged for his forgiveness, but I couldn't. The fear of losing him was suffocating. It was also inevitable, and I couldn't handle that.

"It's just... It's all so fucked up." I whispered, shaking my head. "I mean, I know I didn't know him, or anything, but..." I gazed up into his eyes. He was so understanding, not getting mad for a second at this girl in front of him who had no right to be crying. His swept a reassuring hand across my back, his eyes willing me to tell him everything. "I just... I just don't understand how people can believe in... in a higher power-- a happier place. I don't understand how they can believe in the greater good when there's someone out that's there doing all of this to you. You're single last person that should ever have to experience all the pain you've felt and, I guess, it just pisses me off." The words rocked everything inside of me and the tears only flowed stronger when I saw them in his eyes. "What the fuck did you do deserve this? What does anybody do to deserve such unhappiness? What did--"

"What did you do." He finished my sentence for me, watching me intently. "What did you do, right?" He asked.

I stared up at him for several moments before nodding my head. "Yeah... yeah. I guess." His hand was still running circles around my back and I smiled up at him. "I'm glad you're here."

His smile was gentle, and at that moment, I felt so connected with him that the very idea of us ever being apart again seemed incomprehensible. "I'll always be here for you." He whispered.

"I know. Me, too."

"I would do anything for you."

"Me, too." I said, again, and before I could stop myself. "I have to tell you something." I damn near had to choke the words out of my body and they probably came out sounding more like 'iv-ta-lull-ew-something'. Justin seemed to get it, though, and took a deep breath. His eyes searched mine and I realized, as we sat face to face, that I'd never seen him this close before. Inside and out. He was just as beautiful as I'd always denied he was, just as human and open.

"I..." He seemed nervous. "I have to tell you something, too."

"You first." I insisted.

"Okay…" He paused, taking a deep long breath, before looking me in the eyes. "Happy Valentines Day."

I stared at him, probably looking dumb as rocks.

Dumb as rocks, surprisingly, was the perfect simile to describe me, as I hadn't taken notice of the gargantuan bouquet of roses sitting across the room on the armoire until he said those very words.

As I stared across the room, I was unable to stand from the couch, not even when Justin stood up and held his hands out to me. When I didn't immediately take his hands, he seemed hurt.

"It's not as extravagant as I was planning, but, you know… Things got in the way."

I stared at the flowers on the other end of the room. They were the prettiest things I'd ever seen, but all I could think about was how they suddenly seemed like the elephant in the room that I couldn't ignore for shit.

"You got me flowers…" I whispered, "On the day of your dad's funeral?" I looked at him.

He looked back, clearly confused by the question.

The roses before me were so bright, so red, that it momentarily felt as if they were taking over the room. Anything was better than pink, at that point, but I was surprised at how overcome I felt.

Justin continued to hold his hands out and didn't speak until I took them. He lifted me from the couch and lead me across the room. It was as if I was a child that had a deep seated fear of flower petals and was being dragged to a fiery death with every step I took closer to the big bloom of red.

"Though I find it terribly unfortunate that the funeral fell on this day, it is still Valentines day… and you are still my date." He smiled. "You forgot, huh?"

"No, I didn't, but I was certainly planning on keeping it to myself. Too bad you're a hopeless romantic."

"Yes, I am."

"I'll find a way to beat that out of you, don't worry." I stood in front of the flowers, and let myself reach out to touch one of them. "This is really nice." I said. Justin seemed surprised, but nowhere near as much as me.

"There's a card." He informed, slowly wrapping an arm around my waist. "Right in the middle, between the tallest one."

"Of course there is." I took my time shuffling through the flowers, allowing him to keep him arm wrapped around my shoulder.

I was almost afraid to open the damn thing, but I did.

I want to be your answer. All the time.

"I want to be you’re answer." I read, out loud. "All the time…. What does that mean?"

He didn't answer.

I didn't even need him to.

When I looked up at him, his face was scrunched as if he were waiting for me to punch him. When no such thing happened, he allowed his shoulders to relax.

"I'm ready and waiting for the comments. I expect the words corny, cheesy, and melodramatic and sap to be thrown in at various different intervals so don't be afraid to hurt my feelings. I've prepared myself, accordingly."

I could hear the gasp escape his lips almost as well as I heard him try to hide it when I stood up, slowly made my way over to him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and held him as tight as I could.

It was the scariest moment of my life.

When I pulled away, I wouldn't let myself look at him.

"I had fun tonight." I said to the pink carpet bellow us, nodding stiffly. "Alright, Justin." I said, turning to him. I was surprised to find his eyes on me, and immediately clutched my hands in front of my body, feeling self conscious.

"You look like a thousand bucks in that dress. Did I tell you that?"

"That's a tad insulting coming from a millionaire."

"If I had said a million bucks you would have called me corny."

"Justin, corny doesn't even begin to describe you. In fact, I'm fairly sure that there isn't a word in existence to properly illustrate your cheese capacity."

"Hm. Well, in that case, you look like a million bucks. A couple of million. A trillion."

"And your corn meter just shot off the charts."

"That's all right."

"Okay, listen." I said, rolling my eyes and wanting to get this over with. "I got you something, but if you get all teary eyed on me, I swear to god I'll take it back and get store credit."

I'd expected Justin to be touched, but not as much as he seemed to be. "You bought me something?" The frown on his face slowly faded into a smile. "But… we've been out of town all this time. When did you…"

"I've had it… for a while." I looked away. "This is so lame."

"You bought me something?"

"You're one more question away from me tossing this thing into the trash."

"Sorry, but… seriously? You bought me something for Valentines?"

"Well... not so much bought as got."

"You stole something?"

"Uh, no."

"You made it? Like a craft project?"

"Ew, no."

He seemed disappointed.

"Anyway." I said, tentatively, reaching underneath my mattress. "Do we have an agreement? No sap."

As his smile slowly grew, my heart slowly melted. "I... I promise." he said, holding his hands up.

"Okay." I smiled, pulling it out. "It's not much, but..." I handed him the gift, slightly embarrassed at the Christmas wrapping. Not only was it Christmas wrapping on Valentines day, but it was horribly wrapped Christmas wrapping on Valentines day. Justin took the gift from me, never breaking our eye contact. I motioned to the small gift, rolling my eyes. "I've never been the best gift wrapper and I'm a broke college student, so... Black Santa is going to have to do."

The kid couldn't have been less interested in the wrapping if he tried. That was good, since it was an awful job, but bad, because it meant he was looking at me, his eyes full of the words that I'm sure were on the tip of his tongue.

"Well..." I shifted under his gaze. "Jesus, open it."

He took his eyes off of mine and stared down at the gift like it was the Heart of the fucking Ocean. He tossed it softly from one hand to the other, shaking it around.

"It's not a bomb. I like to save those for Thanksgivings."

He smiled and rolled his eyes. "What is it?" He whispered.

"It's a pool table. Just open it, you freak."

He ripped into the gift, which surprised me since he'd been treating it like crystal just two seconds before. I couldn't believe how nervous I was once he had it in his hands. He stared down it for several seconds and when he took a little too long to say something, I threw my hands up. "You hate it."

When I reached to take the picture frame from his hand he snatched it away, a slow smile spread on his lips. He looked down at it, again, still speechless. I'd found the picture in Kim's drawer while she was asleep one night. It was a little dark, since it had been taken at night, and it was of Justin and I on the first night we'd met.

In the picture, I was fast asleep in my bed, covers thrown every which way. Justin was below me, on the floor, looking like perfection, as always. Kim claimed to have taken it so she'd have proof when she told anyone who tossed her a general glance that Justin Timberlake had crashed in her dorm room that night. I remembered seeing it and thinking about how much I wanted him to see it, as well. Kim agreed when I suggested giving it to him as a gift and gave me one of her old frames. I was slowly beginning to regret it, and had yet to comprehend that what Kim had done for me was almost friendly, as Justin continued on with the silence.

"It's..." He cleared his throat, shaking his head. When he looked back up at me, his eyes were different. "It's perfect."

"Perfect?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "I'm sure a car would have been more to your liking, since you seem to enjoy those."

"Shut up, don't ruin the moment."

"What moment?"

"The moment of speechlessness I'm having about your buying me a gift."

"I guess your blind determination to spend money has rubbed off on me."

"It tends to do that."

"Too bad I'm broke."

"You don't have to be."

"Are we going to do this, again?"

"Do what?"

"THIS?"

"Hey, Trev?"

"What?"

"Thank you."

I rolled my eyes.

"You're welcome, Justin." He said, in a female voice. "And, by the way, you look sexy in your new suit."

"Is it new? Doesn't look like it."

"What?"

"It's kind of wrinkled. I didn't want to say anything, but..."

"That's the look, Trev."

"The look?"

"Yeah. The style? It's hip."

"Hip, Justin?"

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

We stood together, amongst the roses and the destroyed black Santa wrapping, swimming in the artificial anger we were expressing towards each other. I had a hard time placing when I'd grown so comfortable with him in such a short amount of time as we stood there. Justin was looking at me, me at him, and I wasn't even a little bit freaked out.

We stood in silence and I quietly imagined that this must have been what it felt like to be on your first date in middle school. Your date's mom is waiting in the car while the two of you stand awkwardly at the front door, facing each other, too nervous to say what you want to say. As Justin fumbled with the frame in his hand I reached up to play with my hair, desperate for something to do.

"Trev?"

"Hm?" I responded, a little to quickly, to his voice.

"I've got this... this... thing that I want to ask you."

"A thing?"

"A question, Trev."

I cocked my head back, slightly, grinning at his suddenly short temper. "If you want a goodnight kiss that bad, then just kiss me."

His eyes were as wide as saucers in mine and he sputtered softly, blushed and looked away. "That wasn't..." He sighed, jamming his eyes shut. "That wasn't what I was going to say."

I reached out and took his tie between my fingers. "No?"

"No."

"Liar."

His smiled grew, the embarrassment still pink on his cheeks, and he shrugged. "I know I wanted to, for a while, I have. I just didn't know if you wanted to."

"I figure it's going to happen, anyway, why not just get it over with?"

"I want it to be... special."

"Oh jeez."

"Forget it."

"Fine."

"Fine." Justin stood to his feet, which brought him so close to me that our chests were touching. I stared up at him, meeting his strong gaze. His chest heaved against mine and he reached up, grabbing each of my arms. He used his position to pull my body to his. "Why are you such a hard ass?" He nearly growled, frowning down at me.

"Why are you such a punk?"

"I'm no punk."

"Kiss me."

"No."

"Punk."

"I wasn't always like this."

"What? A punk or a liar? And why do you keep saying that?"

"Because it's different... with you, and it bothers me that you can't just be open with me."

I shrugged. "If you want a goodnight kiss, then common. Let's do it."

"I'm not going to kiss you now." He said, as if I were a crazy person. "This isn't the way a first kiss is supposed to go. We have to be in the moment. There has to be chemistry. We have to feel sparks. All of that good stuff."

"Aw." I said, tilting my head. "Do you want me to, I don't know... play around with your chain a little?" I asked, reaching out to twist his chain around my finger. He turned his face away to hide his smile.

"Something like that. Yeah." He said, watching me out of the corner of his eye.

"Do you want me to giggle at all of your jokes, twist my hair around my finger, and maybe... lick my lips a bit... as an invitation?"

"Stop." He said, grinning, softly. "Stop making fun of me."

I batted my eyelashes at him and poked my chest out. "Oh, Justin, kiss me, please!"

"No thank you." He whispered, rolling his eyes when I tugged on his necklace. "Don't break my chain." He warned.

I tugged it harder, just to spite him. He followed the pull and stood tall, his chest pressing up against mine.

"Why are you such a hard ass?" He growled. When I pushed up on my toes and tried to kiss him he pulled away.

"It's okay." I said, softly. "I brushed my teeth this morning."

"Your teeth are the least of my concerns."

"That's surprising coming from someone who brushes his teeth three times a day. Are we going to kiss, or not?"

"Not. You've killed the mood."

"What is the mood?"

"The mood. The tone of the room."

"Is it the mood or the tone?"

"The mood, smart ass."

"So who's to say that this supposed mood I've killed wasn't a cheesy mood or an angry mood?"

"Because it wasn't cheesy or angry. It was romantic, and now it's gone."

I would never admit to him that, somewhere, deep down, I was hoping that the night would take this kind of turn. I didn't want to seem desperate to him, but I was very curious. Curious about him, how I felt when I was with him, and how much I seemed to be changing for the better since I'd met him. I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought about kissing him, because I had.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and gazed up at him. "Do it."

"Trevion..."

When he brought his hands up to touch each of my cheeks, I let my eyes flutter shut. Being this close to him was something very new, and I enjoyed it more than I would have ever imagined.

"Why tonight?" He whispered. "Why not yesterday, or three weeks ago?"

"Well, yesterday I was pissed off at you. Three weeks ago, I thought you were crazy, and was probably pissed off at you then, too."

"Admit it. It's because it's Valentines. You've been trapped under the romantic claws that is this holiday."

"Blasphemy."

"Then why are you offering me your lips?"

"Um, excuse me, Flabio, last I checked you were all over the idea of kissing me. You're the one that brought it up."

He frowned. "One: stop calling me Flabio. Two: You kept the idea alive."

"Only because I could see the desperation in your eyes."

"I'm so sure."

"Just figured I'd leave you with something to remember tonight."

Justin rolled his eyes, but didn't release the hold he had on me. We stood together, looking into each other's eyes. I never thought I'd ever feel this comfortable being close to another person. Especially a person of the opposite sex. I'd never realized how much I'd actually been wanting this with him until that very moment, until it was about to happen.

"Come on." I sighed, closing my eyes. "I wont bite."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"We're just going to get interrupted again."

"If you had kissed me two minutes ago, when I asked, we'd have already been kissing. Think of it that way. See? Another second just passed that we could have been kissing. There goes another. Are you sensing a pattern here, Timberlake?"

"This moment is so unromantic."

"Yes, that's one of it's best qualities."

"I didn't imagine it like this."

"You know what's unromantic? Endless discussion about the act of a kiss. Let's just do it."

"It's not that simple."

"Sometimes, it is."

"Not this time." He whispered.

"Do you do this with all of the girls? If you do, I find it hard to believe you got a lot of booty in LA. Even if you were a pop star."

"I had my fair share."

"I'm sure you did."

"Most girls aren't like you. They search for sappy moments like this. They hint, they beat around the bush..."

"I'm sorry."

He smiled. "Then I found you. Or, better yet, you found me."

"And you realized that some women actually have ambitions outside of your masculine wiles?"

"I realized..." He took a deep breath. "That I thought I knew... I thought it did. But I didn't. This moment, right now, proves that."

"Okay, everything you just said..." I threw my hand over my head and whistled loudly.

"I thought I knew what it felt like to adore someone so much that I would do anything for them."

I stared at him, surprised at the serious tone our conversation had taken.

"I would do anything for you, Trev."

"You say that now."

"I know that now."

"No. You only think you know. Just like with all of the other girls."

"Don't be afraid of me."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"I know you a lot better than you think I do."

I smacked my lips.  "You know... Sometimes you remind me of Dawson from Dawson's Creek."

"That's just mean."

"Seriously. You've both got that tortured, whiney thing down to a science."

He smiled.

"I'm not sure how happy I am with how great your sense of humor has gotten. How am I supposed to offend you? How do I get you out of my hair?"

"You can't. You're stuck with me."

"Damn, and here I thought I'd almost wore you down."

"Come here." He whispered, pulling me closer. When he tilted his head toward mine, I pulled away.

"So now you want a kiss? Psh--yeah, that's going to happen."

"Come here. Come here, Wednesday."

"Look Dawson, I don't know who lied to you but I'm officially swapping spit with Pacey now, all right?"

"Not all right."

"Too bad."

"Everybody knows Dawson is the real stud."

"Are you joking? Anyone with a few brain cells can see that it's all about Pacey."

He pulled away, rolling his eyes. "Um... Dawson's name is in the title."

"Which means a whole lot of nothing."

"It means he's a pimp."

"On what planet?"

He grinned, as if he knew some big secret about James Van Der Beek that he would never share with the rest of the world.

"Do you seriously watch Dawson's Creek? Honestly, Justin, are you sure you're not gay?"

"Yes, Trev, I'm sure."

"Are you? Because--"

"I have a lot of time on my hands."

"Guys with a lot of time on their hands beat their meat, they don't go watch Dawson's Creek." I laughed.

"That's it." He pointed to me. "That's the smile. I love that."

"More than Dawson?"

"More than Pacey, even."

I widened my eyes, dramatically.

"Shut up." He frowned.

"You shut up!"

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Oh, lord, when did we get launched into a bad 50s romance film?"

"I thought that line was pretty 007."

"That was so far from 007 it's not even fathomable."

He scoffed. "Two minutes ago you were all over me."

"Yes. Now you've killed it. Nice work."

"I haven't killed it."

"I'll bet you have."

"If I have anything to do with it, by the end of the night, we'll be kissing."

"Do your worst."

"Give me time."

"I've given you time, Justin. Here we are, you and me. We've spent a good fifteen minutes bickering back and forth about a stupid kiss. Don't even ask me how that turned into a conversation about who's the sexier lead male of Dawson's Creek, because I don't know." I held my hands out, baffled.

"That's what we do. We go off on useless, uninformed tangents like these to hide what we both may be feeling, at the time. Anger, adoration... nervousness."

"I aint nervous."

"Yes, you are."

"What, pray tell, makes you so sure?"

"I wouldn't have brought up kissing you, at all, if I didn't think you wanted to."

"I don't want to."

"I didn't think you did. Then tonight happened. Right after I gave you those roses. The way you looked at me. I knew."

"As much as I hate to bust your bubble, Justin that look you saw? Gas. That spaghetti really got to me." I touched my stomach for effect.

When he reached up to touch my hair, completely ignoring me, I had a quick moment where all negativity, sarcasm and defense mechanisms flew out of my window and all that existed was him. He held my gaze, unwaveringly, as he stroked my hair.

"Your hair is longer. I never noticed that."

"I decided to grow it out." I said, rolling my eyes.

"I like it."

"Is this some kind of kissing foreplay?"

"No... if we're being honest--"

"A welcome change."

"Don't."

"I'm sorry. I turn into a bit of a tart when I'm being denied a kiss from the person who offered it."

"I want everything to be--"

"Perfect? Mind blowing? Spectacular? Nothing is ever that good, Justin. Nothing ever lives up to the dream."

"You do."

The words threw me and I was so taken aback that I couldn't even think of something biting to say. So, I just stood there, with his hands on my cheeks, surely looking dumb and confused.

"Trev..." He sighed a frustrated sigh and closed his eyes, again. "I'm so nervous."

At that moment, I realized that his hands were shaking against my skin.

"Don't be nervous. I wont bite your tongue off, I promise."

"Now, that's romantic."

"I could teach you a few things about romance. Lesson one... just fucking kiss me, already."

"This is going to be like the Pepe Le Peu cartoons. The second I try to kiss you you're going to throw a grenade in my mouth."

"If you keep talking, I might."

"I can't help it." He blushed at that moment, and it made me feel like mush. "This is... this is..." He closed his eyes.

I took that moment to study his face. When I brought my hands up and gripped his wrists, he opened his eyes. I could see the anxiety in them and wanted to hug him for what a production he was making out of this. For some reason, this kiss was really important to him. It was a little bit... cute.

"I know." I said.

"I made a note card..." He set his forehead against mine and we were so close that I could feel his breath on my nose. When he swallowed, I could hear that, as well. "Of cool things to say if this moment came."

"A note card? Justin." I smiled. "That's super lame."

He laughed and I felt his arms snake around my neck, pulling me closer. My arms slipped around his waist perfectly, leaving my lips inches from his adams apple. I looked up at him, met his eyes, and smiled.

"Can I see the card?"

He didn't smile. When I realized that his eyes were no longer on mine, but examining my lips, my heart sped up. I wondered if he could hear it.

"No." He replied, softly, stroking the back of my neck. One of his hands, I don't remember which because my brain had stopped working, came from around my neck. He let it rest against my chest, smiling when he felt my embarrassingly rapid heartbeat. Then, his fingers crept to my bottom lip, feeling it, examining. I felt like I was on display as the curious tips moved to my top lip. It was the most romantic moment I'd ever been in my whole life. Hell, it was the only romantic moment I'd ever been in. It was the first time that I'd been with a guy and was practically dying for him to just... fucking... kiss me, already.

"Trev..." He whispered. I stared up at him. His eyes slowly shut, and when his fingers tightened around my neck my stomach tightened with them. He held me snug against him and we rocked together for a few moments. My gaze flew to his lips and watched as his tongue darted out, moistening them. He was absolutely delectable, and if he didn't kiss me at that very moment I knew I would grab the back of his head and do it for him. Our chests were pressed against each other's, hearts lost in a frenzy of beats. When I felt his body tilt against mine and saw his lips slowly dive down, I could only close my eyes and wait in anticipation.

The last thing I saw before my eyes fluttered shut was the clock on the other end of the wall.

Then my eyes flew back open, I gasped and pulled my head away.

"Justin!"

"What?" His eyes were wide and frantic as he held his hands on either side of my face, as if he were afraid to touch me. "What?" He beamed, again.

"My plane." I whined and jammed my eyes shut, unable to believe that this was actually happening. "The airport. My plane leaves in half an hour, we're late."

He contemplated my words, as if he were suddenly struggling to comprehend the English language, then he laughed.

Actually laughed, out loud and joviously.

He threw his hands above his head in completely hysterics. "Of course we are!"

Justin sighed a frustrated sigh that perfectly mirrored what I was feeling inside and dropped his forehead into my shoulder. A curse danced on the end of my tongue when I felt his wild heartbeat jumping from his chest to jumble with my own. We stood, breathing hard and clutching each other, surrounded by the heavy stench that was the mood, which had just been shot dead.

--

Ten minutes later, Justin and I were running through the D Gates of the Memphis, Tennessee International Airport. Why we were running-- for the plane we were late for, for our lives (Justin had a third leg that consisted of men with big cameras), or for the hell of it-- I wasn't so sure. But running, we certainly were, and halfway down the terminal, I had to stop.

Justin was a good twenty feet ahead of me (the freak had the energy of a five year old) before he realized I was no longer behind him. Lost in the shock and delirium that, for me, came along with the mere thought of running, I barely noticed when he backtracked and took my hand in his.

The men with cameras around us were barely a blip on my radar. I was used to them.

When Justin reached out, breathing annoyingly steady for someone who'd being running top speed for three minutes, and took my hand, everything around me stopped. Stopped happening, stopped mattering.

Just stopped.

"Trev." He breathed. "You okay?"

I snatched my hand away. "Cameras." I said, in response to the look of confusion on his face.

Having lived with the cameras himself for the past five years, Justin was more used to them than I was and actually looked at the constant flashes going on around him like he was shocked at their very presence.

"How did they get into the terminal with us?" I asked, in disbelief.

"They're persistent." He answered.

"You don't have to tell me that." I spat. "I can't run, anymore."

"We'll miss our flight."

"Yes, we will, but you won’t miss the two hundred dollars it'll cost to buy us new tickets, moneybags."

"Since when are you so eager to spend my money?"

"Since you drug me into a four minute mile that I didn't sign up for. Not all of us are in tip top shape like you are, Justin."

"Hm." He cocked his head back.

"What is 'hm'?" I mimicked. Seconds later, I swayed as a wave of heat overtook me. "Whoa." I said, grabbing my head.

Justin immediately reached out and removed the beanie I had on my head. I would have killed him for displaying my hair (which was now reminiscent of a Chia pet) for everyone to see, if I wasn't dying a little more every second.

"Take this off." He instructed, shaking the zipper on my sweatshirt.

I unzipped it, rolled my eyes at the losers taking pictures of us, and glanced up. We were standing in 'Terminal 12' and our flight was in 'Terminal 37'. I removed my sweatshirt and gazed down the fucking never-ending hallway. The farthest I could see was 'Terminal 20'. The hallway curved to the left after that, and, from what I'd seen of this airport so far, probably rivaled the Mississippi River in sheer distance.

"Justin." I cried. "I can't do no more."

"I understand." He laughed and set a hand on my shoulder like a soothing mother. "I guess you're going to have to stay here forever."

"Can't you call the special airport people, tell them you're Justin Timberlake and have them hold the fucking plane for us?"

He thought for a moment. "I could do that."

"Then let's do that, oh mighty one."

He shrugged. "I figured you'd be more comfortable taking doing the 'normal thang'."

"Had I been informed that doing the 'normal thang' would rocket me back to the fifth grade, where I was always the last one picked for soccer, kickball, baseball, or anything that involved running, I would have crossed my name off of the 'normal thang' list with a big red marker and a quickness that would boggle the mind."

Justin shook his head as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Okay, Trev. Less talking, more breathing, okay?" He patted my shoulder.

I wanted to fight, but the invitation to heave out a few more uneven breaths, in a desperate attempt to get my body to forgive me for what I'd put it through, was much too much to pass up.

"Yes, operator." Justin said into the phone. He took a look at me, chuckled and turned his back. "Can you please connect me to VIP Services? Thank you." He shook me a look and shook his head.

I looked to my right where Terminal 12 was boarding, saw an empty seat and could have sworn that there was a bright white light surrounding it. That chair was my savior. Just as I was about to take the five steps it took to make it to my salvation, Justin slammed his phone shut.

"They're holding the plane. A service cart is coming for us in two minutes."

I stared at him, actually stared. "Justin?"

"Trev?"

"I kind of love you."

"You only love me for my money."

"That may be true."

--

As hard as Justin had worked to get me to my terminal, he sure did morph into a seven year old who'd just lost his favorite puppy when we actually made it there. It seemed as if the sight and sounds of the humongous plane was what solidified all of this for him.

I imagined this was the case because that was exactly what was happening for me. It wasn’t until I heard the engine of the very plane I was to be boarding whirr loudly that I realized this was the last time I was going to see Justin in…

In…

"How long did you tell me you were going to stay in LA?" I asked, for clarification.

"I didn't." He whispered. "Because I don't know. I didn't tell you this, Trev, because I wasn't even sure about it myself until a few hours ago, but… I'm planning on fixing everything. I mean everything. I'm going to go back to LA and see Britney, JC, Lance, Joey, Chris, Jon, my father, my record label… everyone… and I'm going to fix everything. I'm tired of living my life for everyone else. I'm tired of wondering about people and missing people. I just need to get a lot of shit out of the way. Then I'll be running back to Vegas."

I stared at him. "That's great." I softly stated.

"That's great?" He asked. This was a sentence that he obviously never expected he'd hear leave my lips. Immediately, and rightly so, he was dubious. "I can't leave my mom. I can't leave her. Not now."

"Are you staying for your mom or for your friends?"

"For everyone."

"What about me?" I snapped my mouth shut. I couldn't believe the words had even left my mouth.

"Trevion…" He seemed just as afraid of saying the wrong thing as I was. "I just want to say… I just want to say…" He blinked at me, and then stalled.

A grin pushed my lips. "Well said." I stated, snarkily, before grabbing up my bag. I didn't realize my fingers were shaking until I felt the suitcase trembling beneath them. "They wont let me bring my flowers on the plane."

"Who knows what Osama's flunkies are capable of if they get their hands on those?"

My face hardened. "National security is not a joke, son." I said, in my deepest voice.

He smiled, brightly. "Damn, I'm gone miss you."

"Gone?" I mimicked. "It took a while seven hours to bring the country out of you." Suddenly, my flight was called, and I shrugged. Fuck it. Fuck it. That was all I could think. "Look, Justin… I just want you to know…" I looked up into his eyes and couldn't find the words. "I just wanted to say…"

It was his turn to grin. "Well said, Trevion."

"Fuck you."

"That's the girl I know."

I clutched my bag in my hand and turned from him. "You have a sickness." I said, over my shoulder, as I headed towards my plane.

"I don't get a hug?" He called.

"No!" I cried. "When I see you in Vegas maybe I'll be able to muster one." I gave him one last look, turned away and hurried towards the terminal where two flight attendants were taking tickets.

"Trev!"

I told myself not to turn to him. Of course, my mind and body had practically become separate entities since I'd met him, and I turned around just as I reached the gate.

He sighed so deeply that I could see his shoulders move as he did. "I just want to say…"

All I could do was smile when he paused, because I knew he wouldn't finish. I understood why he couldn't. Everything that he was feeling at that moment, I was feeling, and I didn't let the evidence of that, the tears in my eyes, show until my back was turned to him.

I hurried to the ticket taken, eager to get on the plane and away from the man that was doing all of these things to me. Sometimes I felt like I couldn't take it anymore-- the things he awoke in me. Other times I felt like I couldn't get enough.

At that moment, I didn't think I could take it anymore. With every second that passed I was more and more angry with myself for not finding some way to tell Justin how I really felt. I was so conflicted, though. I had no idea how to explain something to him that I barely understood myself.

The concerned looks from the passengers around me was slightly embarrassing, but I found it hard to care as the woman took my ticket.

"Straight down, miss." The young flight attendant said, "And to you left…" Her words slowed to a halt as her eyes focused on something over my shoulder.

I wiped the wet tears from my face to make sure I wasn't imagining the stunned look on her face. I wasn't. Immediately, of course, I turned to see what she was looking at so I would know what the hell was holding me up from getting on that plane.

I was startled, and then elated, to see him.

"Justin!" I beamed. "Thank god. I just wanted to say--"

That was all I could get out before he grabbed me around my waist, pushed me against the nearest wall (the one next to the Pepsi machine) and crashed his lips against mine.

Stunned, I held my hands up on either side of my head, as if I were surrendering to the FBI. I felt my itinerary slip from my fingers, but I didn't hear it hit the floor. By then, I'd wrapped my arms possessively around his shoulders and was tasting his lips just as frantically as he was mine. Bin Laden himself could have been boarding the very plane I was about to take and it wouldn't have been enough to rip me from the arms of that man.

That was how powerful that first kiss was. That was how powerful the man was.

Justin pulled away, breathing hard. His blue eyes were riveted to mine. Past his powerful gaze I was faintly aware of the quiet murmurs and giggles that came, here and there, from around us.

A small smile pushed his lips and it was in that very moment that I realized a blushing Timberlake was a dangerous Timberlake.

Very dangerous.

"I just wanted to say that." He whispered.

I blinked. "Very well said."

I hadn't slept in twenty-four hours, I couldn't get Justin off of my mind, I'd come home to a dorm room that was a fucking jungle and I had a Biology test in less than half an hour.

Less than a day ago, Justin's lips had been on mine, and I'd been in a seventh heaven that I didn't even know existed for me. Now I was back in Vegas, my asshole roommate had left our room a complete zoo and I was about to be late for a test that I was destined to fail.

I'd never realized how happy Justin made me until I was away from him. On one hand, the kiss we'd had in the airport the day before was amazing--and a very long time coming. On the other hand, though, it wasn't so amazing. Mostly because I couldn't focus on anything but the kiss, which proved to be a catastrophe for a girl who has a Bio test to study for.

No matter how important I knew the test was, wander, my mind did.

I tried to will myself not to think about him as I stood in the middle of my dorm room with my Biology book in my hands. I was quickly flipping through the pages, never more thankful that I wasn't like other kids. I didn't have to read through the eighty-five pages that was chapter eleven. I was special, and all I had to do was flip through the damn thing and I would have all the information I needed.

Unfortunately, what I had in reading skill I completely lacked in conservation. I could read that chapter a million times, but when it came to remembering everything I'd read... I was a goner. I needed notes, I needed soothing music, I need several hours in a place away from everything to read those notes until the information was so drilled into my head that Jesus himself couldn't brainwash that shit out of me.

I flipped through the chapter over and over as the vacuum clear rolled all over the room, around my bare feet and under every spacious crevice. The microwave was running to my left, warming up a toaster struddle that I would inhale during my mad dash across the campus. In front of me the pillows on my bed flew to the headboard, the sheets tightened under the mattress and the blanket was floating down on top of it where it would land perfectly. The stereo behind me shuffled slowly through the tracks on my Avant cd until it landed on the one I studied with. Trash from every corner of the room circled above my head and would eventually find it's home in the trash at the corner of my room.

Burn's had never understood how I concentrated on so many things at once. What he couldn't understand was that it didn't take concentration, anymore. I barely had to think about it. If I wanted trash in the trash, it got done, if I needed the floor vacuumed, it got vacuumed.

Halfway through my fifth attempt at chapter eleven, I heard a familiar sound behind me.

The sound of the door hitting the wall.

My heart stopped and the Biology book teetered on the tips of my trembling fingers, eventually toppling and landing on the floor with a thump. I knew the odds of it being Justin on the other side of the door behind me was slim to none.

I turned on my heel, praying that I was completely imagining things, and almost throwing up when my eyes came in contact with the bright blue ones that belonged to my nightmare of a roommate.

The vacuum cleaner's dull buzz came to a quick halt and the entire contraption hit the floor. The light in the microwave burnt out, leaving my strudel half cooked. My blanket landed sloppily on the floor somewhere next to my feet. Every piece of trash in the air came plummeting to the ground. A half full soda can came down above my head and got me good right in my temple.

Before I could stop myself I screamed, "Fuck!" and grabbed my temple, shooting my eyes angrily at the foil can. The second I did this it stopped falling, mid air, and flew towards the wall in the direction I was looking. It smashed into the plaster so hard that the entire can crumpled down to a flat circle before hitting the floor.

I really needed to work on my anger problems.

Kim was staring at me. Her eyes were so wide I was momentarily frightened that they would pop right from her skull. She was carrying a mess of books in her arms and, much like my biology book, they went toppling from her grip. I could see the exact moment when she accepted what she was looking at wasn't just her imagination. And when her eyes flew to mine, I was quietly begging. Begging her not to saying anything, praying that she wouldn't freak out.

"Oh... My... God." Her voice was shaking.

I held my hands out and immediately dropped them when she jumped. "Kim.."

She backed away from me until her back hit the wall. She screamed when it did. Slowly, she raised a finger, pointing it right at me, "You're one of..." She swallowed hard, "... Them."

"One of..." I swallowed, "Them?"

She was still pointing and pushed herself off of the wall, shouting, "I've read about you guys."

Wait... Was she... Smiling? And here I thought there was no way this girl could get any freakier. For a moment, I contemplated playing stupid. A moment after that, I decided that was an excellent idea. "What are you talking about?" I asked, putting on my best clue less face.

She didn't seem to be listening, "I've read about people... Like you." Her eyes were growing almost eccentric and it was my turn to grow a little afraid, "Telepathy, inhuman strength... Intellectual abilities that boggle the minds of the most brilliant biologists. You could level this entire building with..." She flicked her pinky, "The twitch of a fucking finger."

I stared at her. Okay. Playing stupid wasn't the best option as she obviously knew more about this that I probably did. "Kim..." My voice had grown desperate, "Please... Don't say anything to anybody."

She was suddenly shaking her head. "No!" She beamed, "I would never..."

I stared at her. It seemed like she really meant it.

I was stunned when tears came to her eyes. "I would never." She said softly, shaking her head. Her blue eyes glistened clearer than the purest ocean in Hawaii, "The things they do... To people like you..." Then she blubbered, "I'll never tell." She pledged, as if her own life were at stake.

I breathed deep, "Thank you. And if it's not too much to ask... I'd really appreciate it..." With every passing second, I was growing more and more anxious, "If we never spoke of this. Ever, again."

Kim wasn't so quick to agree with me on this and it took her several seconds and strong glares from me to, reluctantly, nod her head in agreement.

"Thank you." I stared at her for a long moment, then forced myself to smile. She returned it. I reached down and grabbed my Biology book in my hands. I didn't think it was possible for me to be more desperate to leave her than I already had, but this moment proved that belief very wrong. I needed to call Burns, immediately, and tell him what had just happened.

Man was he going to be fucking pissed.

Just as I was about to walk out, she held her hand up, "Wait... Can I just bring up one other thing... Before we never talk about this again?"

I was reluctant, but decided I didn't have anything more to lose "Spit it out."

"I know I promised I wouldn't say anything, but... It really wouldn't matter now, would it?"

My heart sped up. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She became nervous, "Well... I mean... The magazine."

"What magazine?" I demanded.

She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the latest issue of Star magazine.

I groaned, "Fuck... What? Do they let out a new one of those every other day?"

"Every week." She quickly corrected.

I rolled my eyes, scoffed, then snatched the magazine that she was extended to me. Justin and I were on the cover, as always, but that wasn't what made my entire world stop.

The first thing I saw was the headline, it was pretty hard to miss: WICKED WITCH? NOT JUST IN REAL LIFE, EXPERTS SAY TREVION PRACTICES REAL WITCHCRAFT!

A cameraman that I hadn't even known was there had snapped a picture of Justin and I from outside a window as we sat and ate in a booth at Del Taco. The picture was from the side and I was sitting in the booth on the left side of the photo, Justin on the right. Del Taco had become a ritual of ours. Justin, being the genius he was, often went entire days without eating, as it had never been a priority for him, and would randomly show up at the door of my dorm at twelve am announcing he was hungry. Normally, I could give a shit when Justin does and doesn't eat, that's his business. What I had a problem with was when he came banging on my door, announcing he was starving and making it my business. Justin hated to eat alone. Better yet, Justin wouldn't eat alone. Del Taco was the only twenty four hour restaurant on my street and because of him I'd seen more than my fair share of it. The workers there knew us not only by name but by number, size and quantities of our regular orders. I'd lost track of how many times he and I had been there.

We were in the fucking Del Taco way too much and the picture on the cover of the magazine proved it.

Believe it or not, that wasn't what had Justin so transfixed, it was the cheese quesadea (what he got every time) that was floating between the two of us. No one was holding it, no one was touching it. It was just floating.

"Oh my god." My throat had gone complete dry, so the words came out raspy.

"It's real isn't it?" Kim whispered, "That's not Photoshop... Is it?"

I blinked, surprised when tears didn't fall. "No." I softly, admitted. I looked up into her eyes, wide and frantic, before shaking my head. "No, it isn't."

I remembered doing it. I ever remembered what he'd said.

I'd then proceeded to slap him across the face with the qusedea several times-- no hands, of course.

It had seemed insanely funny at the time. Now it only seemed irresponsible and stupid.

"They were there." I whispered, stating the obvious. My voice was filled with hurt, "They were there. How could I be so stupid?"

Kim just stared.

"I have to call Burns..." Then I thought, "I have to call, Justin. No, I can't. He has enough to deal with. Oh, fuck, I have to talk to Burns. I have to go to his office. Shit! I can't drive like this. I'll run someone off the road... Fuck, I have to call Justin..." I took the phone he'd bought me out of my pocket and it was between my shaking fingers for all of five seconds when it rang. I knew it was Justin, but the ringing startled me so much that I'd practically thrown it across the room out of anxiousness, "Fuck!"

The window shutters flew open.

"I'm sorry." I looked at Kim, "Things like that happen when I get..." I took a deep breath to calm myself, a wasted effort, "Emotional."

At this point I was seriously rambling and Kim was, seriously, ten times more freaked out than she had been five minutes ago. Any minute now, I thought, she was going to run from the room screaming.

"Do you need a ride somewhere?" She offered.

My big eyes shot to her.

Who was this person?

Fifteen minutes later, Kim was flying down I-95 in her BMW X5, going fifteen miles over the speed limit. For this, I loved her.

"So that's what you losers were doing when you left in the middle of the night all the time?" In fifteen short minutes, it seemed, Kim had become completely comfortable with the fact that I had telepathic powers and that the entire world knew all about it. "To Del Taco?" She beamed, as if that was the lamest thing she'd ever heard.

I shrugged. "Justin blames his career. He says that he used to be so busy that eating became less of a necessity and more of a burden. He'll go entire days without eating. Not because he doesn't want to but because... He just... Forgets..." I laughed. Turns out, it sounded just as ridiculous as it was.

Kim's entire face was curled. "How do you go an entire day without eating? What the fuck? I would, like... Die."

I raised my eyebrows at her. "Yeah, I agree... I think." I shot her a look.

"Maybe you should give him a call?" She said this as a question, like she was afraid she was overstepping her bounds.

I stared at her, wondering when my roommate had grown a conscience. "I left the phone back at the dorm." I said, still staring. "God, he's probably shitting a fucking brick. I don't answer the phone once and he acts like the world is coming to an end."

"He's sweet." Kim said, and I really wondered who she was.

"He's insane is what he is. This is the exit."

She pulled into the right lane and exited the freeway on Craig Rd where Burn's office was. "God, could this dude be any fucking farther away?" She complained.

"I'll pay you gas." I offered, feeling bad.

It was her turn to look at me like she didn't recognize the person in her passengers seat. "Don't worry about it." She waved a dismissive hand. "This is the most excitement I've had since I came to this miserable place."

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"New York. You?"

My mouth dropped, "Here. You left New York for this shithole?"

She widened her eyes and nodded. "I know, I can't believe it, either" was what her expression said.

"Wow." I said, cocking my head back. "So I have to ask... Why aren't you more freaked out by all of this? I expected you to go running to the mountains, or the closet.... Or the police."

She shook her head. "I'm really interested in telepathy, ESP... The unknown. Things like that. When I was five years old I wasn't watching Barney and Rainbow Bright like the other kids my age. I stayed up until eleven to catch The Twilight Zone and the X-Files. By the time I was six I'd read 'Fear' seven times. When I tried to make it eight my parents confiscated it from me. Apparently they couldn't handle the fact that their little girl would rather read about people being brutally murdered than ponies and rainbows. It's not real easy to freak me out." She combed a piece of bright red hair behind her ear, it was almost scarlet under the sunlight, and shot me a look, " I've got to admit that you came really close when I walked in on you today, though. You probably feel like you're all alone in the world, but you're not. There are websites, books, followings for this find of stuff. ."

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I'm glad I did." She said, "I've read a lot of the books... I belong to a lot of the internet groups. Sometimes I wish..." She seemed hesitant. "Sometimes I wish that I was like you... People like you. Then maybe I wouldn't feel the way that I do all the time. Maybe my life would make a little more sense to me." She seemed to be in a whole other place for a moment, then shook herself out of it, "Anyways! I think it's great that this happened. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here right now. I would never have known that you're almost... A halfway bearable human being if this hadn't happened, you know?"

I wanted to be offended as I looked at the girl next to me, who I'd obviously never really known, but all I could do was smile. "Yeah... Likewise."

She smiled back at me and in that moment, a bond was formed, though I was sure neither of us was aware of it. "Which way?"

"Turn left on Ann Road. You can see the building from here."

"You mean the offensively shiny one that stretches thirty stories and is rendering me blind in my left eye?"

I laughed, "That's my Burns's office!"

Within minutes, Kim was parking her vehicle in the parking lot and pulling the keys out of the ignition. "Will you mind if I come in with you?"

"No... But I should probably warn you that Burns is not very well trained. He doesn't respond well to new people."

Kim smiled knowingly, "I think I'll live."

--

"God dammit Trevion! What were you thinking? Do you have any idea what you've done? Do you have any idea the danger you've put yourself in? I told you! I told you not to get involved with this boy! You don't listen. Now look what's happened. Look what a mess you've made for yourself!" As if to bookend the twenty minute rant that he'd just screamed his way through, Burns took the Star magazine that was rolled up in his big hand and threw it as hard as he could against the wall. It hit with a thud but his face was still beet red. His eyes were frantically searching the office for something--anything else-- to throw.

I shot my eyes to Kim, who was sitting in the chair next to me. Clearly, she was a bit frightened that the next object Burns would send hurling towards the wall would be her head. She didn't understand that he was just a cuddly teddy bear in a really big, well maintained body.

The two of us were sitting in the couches parallel to Burn's desk in the very same way that Justin and I had nearly a month and a half ago.

"And now you've involved your roommate?!" He beamed, pointing a shaking finger at Kim, "You don't even like her. Why is she here?!"

"She walked in on me doing... Things. She knows. Besides... She would have known, anyway, now that this magazine is out. Plus, she was my ride."

"But why is she in my office?"

I stared at him. "Well, Burns, if you kill me... And that's appearing more and more likely with every second that passes.... She'll be my witness in court."

Burns laughed. "You think I wouldn't kill her, too? Because I would."

Kim shrunk back into her chair.

"Burns." I scolded, "I'm surprised at you. Kim happens to be the person who gave me the ride down here. You and every other person on the road should be thanking her for not letting me into my car in the condition I was in. Not only would I be dead right now but I would have taken half of I-95 with me."

Within seconds, Burn's was clenching either side of the chair I was sitting in, blocking me in. His handsome face was becoming redder by the second and I couldn't remember ever seeing him so angry. "Is this a joke to you?" He whispered. "Is this a fucking joke?"

"No." I whispered back, feeling five years old all over again. "I had a nice, long spazz session back at the dorm room. After an hours worth of driving I've managed to calm down. Maybe you should do the same."

He shoved himself away from me, as if I was the foulest thing he'd ever smelt. "Calm down." He laughed, manically, then looked at Kim, "Calm down!" He beamed to her. "She's only putting her life in danger, right? She's only taken everything I've ever taught her and thrown it in the trash." His eyes were back on me, "Right? She's only completely and utterly clueless as to what magnitude her life is going to change because of what's on the cover of that fucking magazine, right? But I should just calm down, right? I should just stop giving a damn about the girl that I raised-- about a girl that I've put my entire heart and soul into. Right?"

I stared at him, completely sobered and on the verge of tears. I imagined that this must have been what most people felt when they saw their mother crying. Completely crushed and helpless. "Burns.." I whispered, "I'm sorry." I'd never seen him lose it like this.

He shook his head at me. "I know you are." He sympathized, and I was thankful for that. Immediately after, however, he breathed deep, "But it's too late for that."

Kim was as quiet and timid as a mouse next to me, which proved that she was a lot smarter than I'd given her credit for.

"What are we going to do?" I asked.

Burns circled his desk and took a seat. "I have a plan."

Kim and I shared a quiet look, then our eyes were back on Burns.

"This isn't Time Magazine and that's going to work in our favor..." he clasped his hands in front of him. "You have to get in touch with Justin. Since Star Magazine is a tabloid and not exactly recognized for their air tight reliability... We could make this all go away. If Justin spins it the right way..." He took a deep, shaky breath, "we can make it all go away. But it has to be Justin, it has to be public and it has to be soon. Otherwise... You're going to end up just like your mother."

The moment the words left his mouth he jammed his eyes shut. This was something, obviously, that'd he'd never planned to say. Not ever.

Meanwhile, my heart had completely stopped. "Wait..." I jammed my eyes shut, then forced them open, willing myself not to get too angry too quickly, "Wait... What?"

He didn't answer me, and my blood boiled.

"What do you mean I'm going to end up just like my mother? What does that mean?" He didn't answer me, and that's when I became frantic, "You told me that she walked out on my father and I. You told me that I'd... That I'd scared her away with this... This thing inside of me. That's what you told me, right?"

"I shouldn't have said anything." Burns mumbled, "I'm sorry, Trevion, I never meant to..."

But I wasn't listening, "Seeing as I don't have a child or a husband to walk out on I find it hard to understand how I could ever end up like my mother. Right? Unless you've been lying to me. Unless everything that you've told me since I was six fucking years old has been a lie." I became overwhelmed with emotion, and felt Kim's hand on my back when I started crying, "What happened to her?" I asked, desperately, "Where is she?"

Burns stared at me, appearing on the edge of a breakdown himself. "I don't know." He whispered. "That's the truth."

"What's the whole truth? I deserve to know. I grew up without her. I grew up believing that she walked out on me-- that she never loved me. If it was something else-- if you know that it was something different you have to tell me. I deserve to know why I grew up without a mother! I deserve--"

"She let it slip! She let people find out about her gift just like you!" He screamed, standing from his chair and pointing a finger at me over the desk. "She was careless, she was selfish and she was stupid! It meant nothing to her that she had a daughter, a husband and a family to protect. They found out who she was. They found out, Trevion, and they set out to find her and take her away."

It seemed like his lips were moving in slow motion and with every word he said I wondered whether or not I wanted him to continue.

He calmed himself, and sat back in his chair, "She knew they were looking for her and she figured that... She figured that if she didn't have the gift anymore, if she could just find a way to get it out of her body... To make it go away, then maybe they wouldn't hurt you and your father. She didn't leave you by choice, Trevion. She loved you, she loved your father and she was just trying to protect you. I never told you this because I was trying to protect you. What you have inside of you... Your gift... It's genetic. Your mother passed it to you in utero."

My hand went to my mouth and I suddenly felt extremely dizzy, "Oh my god." I whispered, the tears spilling out of my eyes like a waterfall. "You let me grow up thinking that my mother left me because of something that she herself had? You let me believe that she thought I was a freak. That she was afraid of me... Couldn't stand the sight of me." I shook my head at him. "How could you do that?"

"I didn't want you to go looking for the cure like she did." His voice was shaking. "I swear I was just trying to protect you, Trevion. I was just trying to protect you."

"Cure?" I asked, scooting to the edge of my seat. "What are you talking about... What cure?"

His eyes were miserable. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you."

"Well it's too late for that, Burns! I know all about it now and I want to know what the hell you're talking about. Is there a chance..." I pointed to myself, "Is there a way that I can make this go away? Is there a way to... Fix myself?"

I was deeply hurt when I saw tears in his eyes, "You don't need to be fixed." He demanded, as if he were deeply hurt by the mere proposition.

"Are you going to tell me... Or not?"

His eyes grew small. He must have understood that the moment we were in right then was going to decide whether or not he and I were going to remain in each other's lives. The magnitude of the situation shook him as deeply as it shook me. I knew how to shut people completely out, I was very good at it, and he knew this. "Not." He whispered, struggling to hold it together.

I couldn't believe that he'd thrown it all away so easily. It hurt me so deeply, that I immediately stood and left the office. He didn't follow.

I didn't look back as I pushed open the heavy door of his office building, squinting against the sun that stabbed against my red eyes, but I knew Kim was right behind me.

"I need you to take me to my mother." I said, without looking behind me. I walked up to where Kim had parked her BMW and waited for her. She walked to driver's side and our eyes met over the roof of the vehicle. She seemed almost as upset by what had just happened as I was, and she barely knew me or Burns.

"I don't know where she is." She whispered. "Maybe we should go back. Your... dad seemed pretty upset..."

"He's not my dad." I spat before immediately forcing myself to calm down. She didn't deserve to be yelled at. "I know someone." I insisted. "I know someone who knows where she is. I just need to get back to the dorm."

"Okay." She immediately agreed.

--

Once we were back in the dorm room I all but leapt for my phone. The second it was in my hand I looked up JC's number in my incoming calls section, sent it through, and put the phone to my ear.

He answered on the second ring.

"You can breathe easily, Trevion. It seems that you, somehow, convinced Justin to leave for California just in the nick of time. He wasn't in Tennessee when I got there. He doesn't know about you and I. His family hates me so much that they wouldn't even give me his number and I have no way of getting in contact with him. Congratulations, you win."

Then he hung up.

And I saw red.

I dialed him again, half expecting him not to answer. When he did, I tried to think about how to go about this. The best way would probably be to treat him like royalty so he would agree to tell me where my mother was. The desirable way would be to scream at him until he agreed (which wasn't likely).

Surprisingly, as I listened to the voice of the person I now hated second most in the world, I was extremely collected. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, Kim on the edge of hers. We were both face to face as I said, calmly, "I need to see my mother." Then, when he didn't respond, "Please, JC."

"Why should I?" He asked. His voice was soft, almost understanding.

My voice shook, "Because I have nothing else."

"You have Justin." His tone was resentful.

"He's going to California to make amends with everyone... Including you. You can take me to see my mother, I know she's somewhere in that state. You can drop me off wherever she is and be home just in time to hug, kiss and make nice."

"You're a liar." He laughed, "And a bad one."

"I'm not lying." I said, softly. "This is why I'm telling you that my mother is all I have left." I began crying, overcome with emotion.

"And I'm telling you that she isn't! Justin is crazy about you! For some reason..."

"God dammit, JC! We both know what's going to happen when Justin goes to the hospital to see Britney. WE both know what's going to happen when he lays eyes on her for the first time in a month. We both know what's going to happen! When I loose him to Britney I'm going to need something to hold onto. I need something to hold onto, JC or I'm not going to fucking make it. All right? I need you to take me to my mother, now!"

A long silence followed this, then he whispered, "You're serious."

I sniffled, "Are you back in Vegas?"

"I just got back.... Maybe half an hour ago." He sighed, "If you really think Justin is going back to Britney..." He laughed. "Then you don't know Justin."

"If you think I wont do anything to see my mother right now... Then you don't know me, very well. And maybe he wont go back to Britney... But I can't take that risk." Now that I didn't have Burns, I realized that my being truly alone in this world was becoming a real possibility.

"Is Justin really on his way to LA?"

"Yes. I'm telling you. He mentioned you, Charles, Josh and Larry."

JC laughed out loud. "I assume you're referring to Chris, Joey and Lance?"

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes, "How do you think Justin is going to feel? He's on his way to LA to be the bigger man, to make amends with you. How do you think he's going to feel when he finds out you're in Las Vegas? Do you think he's not going to know that we've been talking to each other? Justin is stubborn, JC, but he's not stupid. You can take me to see my mother then hurry back to the Hollywood Hills, or where ever the fuck, just in time for Justin's little visit."

I was surprised when, immediately after I said this, he whispered, "All right."

"Really?" I asked, skeptically.

"Yeah. Really. I told you that I'll do anything to fix what I've broken with him. If he's really on his way to LA... Then so am I." He paused, "I'll be there in an hour."

"Thank you, JC." I whispered. "I told you that this would all work out, didn't I?"

"Not exactly a politely as that, but yeah... I suppose you did."

I rolled my eyes, "I'll see you in an hour." Then hung up. I looked across the small space that separated my bed and Kim's.

She was watched me with concerned eyes, but a smile hinted at her lips. "And I thought my life was hectic." She shook her head. "You and I are going to have to sit down a have a really long talk."

"Soon." I agreed, "But right now? I have to pack."

Half an hour later I had a duffle bag packed, with my keys twirling in my hand. I'd completely missed my chemistry test and was shuffling through different ways to beg for my professor's mercy when there was a knock on the door.

For once, JC had been early. I was excited for this becuase the earlier we left the earlier I got to see my mother.

Of course, he found a way to completely fuck my excitement up for me. "I have to take a shit." He said, just like a real gentlemen. He stood in the middle of my dorm room like he fucking owned the place, "Where's your charming roomate?"

"She's in a late class." I rolled my eyes, "Anything else before you go drop the kids off at the pool?"

"And you say I have no manners?" He laughed.

"I never claimed to have manners. Speaking of, that's the ugliest fucking jacket I've ever seen in my life."

He slung the jacket he'd just removed over the end of my bed. It was black leather and covered in all sorts of patches with different pictures and symbols. Some of them were sports, some animals, some randoman, meaningless things, some were at all. Just random patches with random colors.

We both stared down at it. "You're telling me?" He laughed, "Justin made it for me as a birthday gift. He was only thirteen, you know, his fasion sence wasn't exactly extensive."

"You guys have known each other since he was thirteen?"

"Yeah..." JC answered, somberly, "Yeah, he made it for me. It was widely recgnized amounst everyone on the tour as the ugliest thing any of us had ever seen. Justin loved it though, and whenever he saw me go somewhere without it on he'd get the most pitiful look on his face." He rolled his eyes, "You must know the look."

I rolled my eyes right back, "Unfortunately."

"Yeah, I always felt bad. I loved him... And he loved it. So whenever we were together, I wore it. As time went by... I grew to love it, too... I guess."

"Touching." I said, dryly. "Bathroom's down the hall on the left... If you were wondering."

He seemed to take the hint, and headed towards the door, "Give me fifteen minutes."

Five minutes later, there was a knock.

I hurried across the room to the door and threw it open, my bag in one hand, car keys in the other, but it wasn't who I expected.

Justin seemed just as surprised by the sight of me as I was by him. The moment that our eyes met, I remembered the feeling of his lips on mine and the warmth of his hands on my body. The weight of emotions that I now held for this man was almost suffocating. The need to reach out and touch him was even greater.

I wanted to say something to him, btu speech seemed foreign... Impossible. He was wearing a t-shirt underneath a dress jacket and a pair of basic jeans on his legs. He looked like... Justin. I was immediately comfortable at the sight of him.

He spoke first. "You look surprised." He smiled that big smile.

"I am." I nodded vigorously, "I am." I said, again, stupidly.

"Hi, Trevie!" I jumped at the voice, then told myself that I was imagining things.

The smile in Justin's eyes told me that I wasn't.

"You didn't." I beamed. The moment I said this, Steven's little body came bounding into my vision from the left side of my open door. There the little rugrat was, gripping his disgusting GI Joe doll and looking as dirty as ever. Surprisingly, his presence wasn't as disconcerting to me as it normally was.

It was almost... nice.

Then the midget barricaded himself into my open door, nearly knocking Justin to the ground in the process, and wrapped both of his arms around my left leg. It seemed like he was doing everything he could to climb right up my baggy blue jeans but just wasn't strong enough to pull it off.

"Trevie! I missed-ed you a lot!"

"I've been gone for one day!"

"I know! It was awful!" He cried. I attempted to push the child off of me. The harder I pushed, it seemed, the stronger his grip became.

After several attempts to pry his fingers from my jeans I gave up and stood tall, leveling my annoyed eyes with Justin. "Why are you doing this to me?"

He laughed. I wondered what was so funny.

Steven had now spread my legs apart and was weaving in, out and around the gap in my legs like I was a fucking jungle gym. "I hope you're having fun down there." I said.

"I is!" He answered.

"Where are this boy's parents?"

Justin's smiled only widened. He seemed so happy. "He's on track break. I have him for three weeks."

My eyes widened. "I am so sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You have him, too."

"Don't threaten me." I beamed.

"How was your Biology test?" He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I felt a little bad for keeping you in Tennessee. I know that you have school and... A life of your own. Steve and I should really be in LA right now, actually, but..." He sucked in some air through his teeth, "I needed to see you."

I stared at him, struck by his intensity. "I know." I said, softly, swerving when Steven knocked my knee out of place.

"Ow!" I screamed.

"Steve!" Justin yelled.

"Huh?" He called, innocently. Justin immediately softened, understandably. The devil himself couldn't yell at that face. Steven had stopped running, which left him with one leg on either side of my foot and his head in my crotch, "Huh, Jussin?"

"Try to act like you got some god damn sense, would you?"

"Uuuuuuummm!" Steven frowned up at his big brother.

For the first time, Justin seemed annoyed by this and pointed into the room. I stared at him. He was almost pulling this whole parental thing off. "Go sit on the bed."

"But I want to stay with, Trevie!" He gripped my leg.

"Well Trevie and I are having a grown up conversation. So go... Sit... On the bed."

"But Trevie liked-ed me better than you."

"Trevie does not like you better than me."

"We're really going to have to do something about the name Trevie." I said, jumping in.

Then they both had the audacity to look at me like I was the crazy one.

Giving up on the argument with Steven, which was the smart thing to do, Justin looked back up at me. "Truthfully, Trev... We were really worried about you."

My heart sped up. Being with him and the brat was actually pretty soothing. So much so that I'd completely forgotten the nightmare that had been that entire day. The magazines, the encounter with Burns, finding out about my mother... Everything disappeared when I was with Justin. I loved that he could do that for me. I was terrified of losing it.

Immediately after this, I remembered that JC was on his way there.

Justin was still talking, "I don't know if you saw the magazines or not, but... They've got pictures of you... Doing... You know. It was while we were at Del Taco."

"I know." I nodded, "I saw them..." I wanted to tell him everything that had happened that day, but for some reason... I couldn't.

"Trev, I was really worried... For the whole drive down here I couldn't think of anything but getting to you. I even forgot to feed Steven." He motioned to Steve, who'd resumed treating my calves like they were monkey bars on the playground, "I just want you to know that I'm going to take care of it. You don't have to worry about anything. It's really easy to discredit the tabloids." His voice was very patient and soothing. I'd learned that he only talked like this when he was really nervous but trying to hide it, "This is what I was talking about, Trevion. This is why I get so mad at you when you're open around these people. They're heartless. They're animals and they're out for blood. All they see is money and they don't give a fuck about who they're hurting. Just because you don't see them doesn't mean that they aren't there. They're everywhere. Anywhere." He shook his head, "Anytime."

"I know!" I beamed, then, seeing how much I'd startled both of them, I sighed. "I know... I just..." I shook my leg a bit and managed to throw Steven off in the process. With my newfound freedom I took a step closer to Justin and did what I'd been dying to do since the moment I'd found him on the other side of that door. I lightly brushed the sides of his jacket, then laid my hands against it until they were touching, then gripping his waist.

I looked up at him, my heart racing. "I missed you." I said, softly.

He was clearly surprised by my saying this, and, as if he were afraid the moment would disappear within seconds if he didn't grab it, immediately, he reached up and cupped the back of my neck, letting his thumbs caress the skin above my ear. "Me too." He whispered, "God..." His eyes fluttered shut and he laughed, quietly, "I can't fucking stop thinking about you."

"Me either." I admitted.

"That kiss..." He sighed.

"I know..." I laughed. "It's going to change everything... It might very well ruin everything." I paused, "Are you willing to risk that? Are you willing to throw this friendship away?..."

He stared at me, his eyes soft, and shook his head 'no' as he whispered, "Yes." Then, "I want you to come back to California with us."

I was immediately startled by this, so much so that I stepped away from his touch.

He kept his hands in the air, as if I was still right there. "I just want you to meet the guys... That's all. I'm not asking for your hand in marriage, Trev." He must have realized how harsh that sounded, "I just want them to know you. The real you." He reached into his pocket and removed the magazine that had shaken my entire life, "Not this. This isn't you." He threw the magazine to the ground and took a step toward me.

I stepped away.

His eyes grew hurt, "Trevion."

"What?" I asked, softly.

"What are you doing?" He asked. For the first time since I'd opened the door, his eyes wandered to my hands, "Where are you going?" He asked, taking note of the packed bag in my hand and my bundled attire. There was no accusation in his eyes, no mistrust. He was just asking me an honest question. Maybe he thought I was going to visit family across town, even though I had no family. Maybe he thought that I was going to a sleep over, even though I had no friends and would never go to a sleep over even if I did. He probably believed a million and one things, none of them bad.

He had so much faith in me and that made me feel like a real asshole.

His eyes narrowed over my shoulder towards my bed and seemed to focus on something, I figured that must have been where Steven, who had grown suspiciously quiet, had retired to. Then I saw the look in his eyes. He seemed puzzled, then amused, with himself.

Then it was disbeleif. Pure, unadulterated disbelief.

I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but my heart stopped beating before I could.

The jacket. His eyes were on mine for a fraction of a second, then he was moving past me.

"Justin!" I reached for him but he swatted my hand away so quickly that it momentarily flustered me. I could only watch as he walked towards the bed where the jacket lay, perfectly spread, as if it had known Justin was coming. As if it had been meant for him to see, like that was it's purpose in life.

"Was 'dat, Jussin?" Steven asked. Turns out he'd been jumping on Kim's bed the entire time, doing front flips and landing on his stomach before bursting into uncontrollable giggles.

Justin stared down at the jacket, completely ignoring Steven, and I held my breath. The smartest option, I told myself, would be to keep quiet. Just shut... The fuck... Up. Give Justin time to decide how to handle this and go with his flow. That was my plan.

"Where is he?" Justin asked, without looking at me. He gave me less than a second to answer, then his voice rose. "Where is he, Trevion?"

"In the bathroom." I answered, "Down the hall."

As if we were all in a play in front of an audience, as if someone as qued him from outside the door, JC came bounding into the room right at that moment. "All right, Trevion. I just dropped the kids off at the pool and..."

I cut my eyes at JC just as he spotted Justin across the room. It was as if he was a mother who hadn't seen her son in months. Justin didn't even have to turn around. JC knew it was him. And even though all he saw was the back of Justin's jacket, it was as if he'd seen a ghost.

"I have got to commend you on your timing." I spat. Shaking my head at him, "Thanks for leaving your jacket on the bed, by the way." Then, I was furious, "Fuck!" Then crying, "Justin..." I crossed the room to my bed and laid a hand on Justin's shoulder.

He shrugged away from it like it was fire. "Don't." He said, calmly.

Too calmly.

"Big C!" Steven yelled, then waved, titillated by the sight of JC.

"Sit down!" Justin screamed.

Steven immediately stopped jumping on the bed. He was five but he wasn't fucking stupid. He knew something was about to go down. Like the good little boy that he definitely wasn't, he parked his little booty on the front of the bed and put his hands in his lap, big blue eyes drinking in every inch of the situation before him.

It was as if screaming at Steven, the one person who didn't deserve it, had awaken a sleeping giant inside of Justin. Before I could think another thought, he'd began crossing the room.

All I could do was be worried for JC's safety. Funnily enough, it turned out that it was my safety that I should have been afraid for.

Within seconds Justin was in my face, his breath hot against my lips in the worst possible way, his nose bumping against mine. His fists were curled tight at his sides, as if I was one smart ass comment away from a fist in the face.

Instinctively, I snatched my head back and stared up at him, wondering if he was the type of man to hit a woman. I wasn't afraid of him, as his hot breath slammed against my face. More than anything, I was afraid for him. I knew that this must hurt him, and all I wanted was a way to make it better.

There must have been fear in my eyes because he seemed to realize just how hostile he'd become and took a big step away from me. Honestly, I preferred to have him close, even if he was burning with fury while he was.

"How long?" He asked, the calm edge back in his voice.

JC answered. "About a week after you got here." He looked at me. "About a month."

I could hardly believe my eyes when Justin's chin began to shake, angry tears threatening to spill out of his wounded eyes. I never thought it would work out this way. I never thought he would end up more angry at me than he was at JC "Tell me something, Trevion." His voice trembled, "Tell me why it's so easy to do this to me?" He shook his head, "I just want to know."

I covered my mouth with my hands. Every inch of my body trembled, "Justin, please."

"Why am I so fucking easy to lie to?" He struggled to hold himself together. "Why am I so easy to deceive?"

"Justin you have to understand." The sight of tears in his eyes was an ugly reminder of the man that he was when I'd first met him, "I was just trying to protect you. I care about you so much."

You'd think I told him that he was the worst kisser in the world and his breath tasted like boiled eggs from the way he looked at me. Then he was laughing. "You care about me?" He asked, his laughter growing more powerful, until it was almost maniacal. "You care about me? You fucking care about me? You care about me, Trevion? Fuck you!"

When JC jumped in, I covered my mouth with my hands, terrified, "Look, man, believe me when I tell you that girl loves you. You might not know it, she definitely doesn't know it but..."

That was how far JC got before Justin was in his face. It was the first time that I'd ever heard a man yelling with a very deep and very real passion. Not even my father had screamed at me when I was a child, he was always a very mild tempered man. Seeing Justin screaming, crying, looking damn near ready to kill JC where he stood was a display of male anger at it's most poignant. IT was nothing short of terrifying.

"Don't fucking say her name to me, JC, who the fuck do you think you are?!" Justin was crying hysterically now, shoving JC's shoulders after every word he said, stabbing his finger at him and heaving his chest at him until JC had nowhere left to go. His back was up against the wall with Justin's nose against his the same way it had been on mine. Both of their faces were as red as apples. I was crying. Justin was crying. JC was crying and Steven was crying, too. "Are you going to fuck every woman that I love until the day I fucking die? Is that your plan? Do you resent me that fucking much that you have to destroy everything I love just so I'll be as unhappy as you fucking are?!" Justin's fists were clenched and, instinctively, so were JC's. It was silent for a moment, then Justin's shoulders heaved and, if it was even possible, his voice rose. "Answer me!"

Steven was crouched in the corner of Kim's bed, screaming at the top of his lungs. I was fairly positive that he'd probably never seen Justin this angry. From what I'd seen he was extremely lenient with Steven, he rarely ever yelled and I was sure he'd never been mere seconds from knocking somebody the fuck out when he knew Steven was watching. Justin was out of control at the moment, though, he wasn't himself, and Steven was absolutely petrified.

The two didn't even notice as I crossed the room to Steven, who opened his arms to me the moment I touched the small of his back. I gripped his body to mine, only crying harder when I felt his little body wrecking against mine with sobs. I shushed him, rocked him and did all of the things I'd seen good mother's do on tv and in movies.

"I'm not fucking Trev..." In the middle of saying my name, JC stopped himself, "I'm not fucking her. I came to her. I found her. She has nothing to do with this. I saw a picture of you guys in a magazine and I was just using her. She was just a pawn..." He stopped and tried to collect himself, to no avail, "She was just a pawn in my desperate attempt to get to you. That's it, I fucking swear. What happened with Britney was a mistake and I'm so fucking sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, Justin." I said, coming up behind them in an attempt to calm everything down. I was sure that, with Steven in my arms, Justin would come to his senses. "I should have told you from the beginning."

He turned away from JC, saw me holding Steven,, and only seemed to get angrier. "Yeah, you should have." He snatched Steven out of my arms and when he had the child against his chest his entire face saddened, "I'm sorry, Steve." He whispered, his face curled into a deep frown.

"Justin, please don't go, let's talk about this." I gripped his shoulders and, since he had Steven in his arms, all Justin could do was shrug away from me.

"Don't touch me." He frowned when my hands slid down his arms, "I fucking mean it. Don't... Don't!" He screamed. He held the back of Steven's head firmly in one hand and had his bottom in the other. Everytime I touched him, he snatched his entire body away, taking his crying baby brother with him.

I wouldn't stop reaching for him, I couldn't. I knew that if I could just get my arms around him, if I could pull his body to mine that I could relax him, even if only a little.

Steven slowly slid out of Justin's arms as he was trying to move away from my touch. With every inch that he slid from Justin's arms he screamed a little louder.

"I'm sorry! Please don't go...." I was sobbing now, nose running, a hot mess, "Please don't leave me, I'm so, so sorry!"

"That's bullshit!" Justin released Steven, gently pushed him to the side and, with his newly freed hands, began swatting away from frantic hands, "That's bullshit, Trevion. Don't touch me. Don't fucking touch me!" He screamed and when I didn't heed his warnings he reached out to me and, with a stunning quickness, had my wrists in a startlingly tight grip. I was so stunned that I couldn't fight him, I could barely move. When he pushed me against the nearest wall, slamming my back against it, I screamed and jammed my eyes shut, afraid that he'd hit me. "God dammit, I mean it, Trevion!"

"Please." I cried, my eyes jammed shut. "You mean everything to me, Justin. Please..." I opened my eyes so I could see his face and, for the slightest moment, I saw his eyes soften. I grabbed his cheeks in each of my hands, "You mean everything to me." I repeated, and came up on my toes to kiss him. This must have awakened something in him because he was striking my hands away, again, both of us screaming, both of us crying. I didn't stop trying to grab onto him until he was yelling so loud that my ears were ringing. I brought my hands up to cover them but they froze halfway when his fist came flying towards my face.

My entire body solidified with fear and stayed that way even when his fist went crashing into the wall right next to my ear. He hit it once, screaming. Then twice, crying. Then three, four, five times, completely out of control, completely overwhelmed, completely pulverized. "God damn, Trev, why?!' He cried, punching the wall, one more time. My vision was blurry from tears, but I could see blood quickly seeping up from his knuckles and dripping down his fingers. "Why you?" He gasped, an expression of complete pulverization on his face.

I didn't know if JC blacked out at the sight of a woman being challenged by a man or if he completely lost all common sense, but the sight of Justin in my face did something to him. He crossed the room and grabbed Justin's shoulder in an attempt to pull his body away from mine.

The moment he did this, Justin veered around, charged JC and swung at him with all the might he'd thrown into the wall moments before. I had covered my eyes with my hands, so all I heard was the sound of skin hitting skin, then cracking, then a heavy thump and Steven's horrified scream.

"Fuck!" I opened my eyes, saw JC sprawled on the floor and Justin standing above him, holding his fist in his hand. At that moment, I accepted that there was nothing. There was nothing that I could ever do to set all of this right. I'd completely fucked it up. That thought was absolutely paralyzing.

When Justin stepped away from me that time, I didn't reach for him. He found his brother curled into the farthest corner of the room screaming at the top of his lungs and looking thoroughly heartbroken. Like he weighed no more than two pounds, Justin grabbed Steven's arm and pulled him off of the floor, gripping him to his side.

Without saying another word to anybody, Justin left the room with his gasping brother on his side.

I waited until I knew he was gone, then I fell to the floor in a heap, crying almost as loudly as Steven had been.

"Are you fucking happy?" I asked JC, who was still lying in the spot that Justin had decked him, holding his chin while rolling his jaw in circles, probably trying to pop it back into place. I sniffled, found my way to my feet, swerving slightly before finding some semblance of balance. "I hate you." I whispered, crying softly, "This is all your fucking fault and I hate you!" He didn't even look up, "Do you hear me?!" I cried. When he continued not to respond, I grabbed the nearest object, the case to Kim's Slipknot CD, and threw it at him. It hit it square in his temple. When he continued not to respond, a stuffed bear was the next thing that went flying at his head. After realizing that wouldn't cause nearly as much pain as I needed to inflict, I grabbed the biggest book I owned, Moby Dick, and sent that charging at him, as well, "Son of a bitch!" I hollared, just for emphasis.

The book missed his head by an inch, and instead hit Kim's favorite lamp. I was definitely going to hear about that later.

I just couldn't make myself care.

JC released his chin and raised his eyes to mine. He looked more haggard, more torn down, more tired than I'd ever seen him. So tired that he couldn't even find it in himself to retaliate against the crazy bitch who was throwing any and everything at his head with intent to maim, and or, kill. He had given up and it was a scary sight to behold. "I'll..." His head fell and he stared at the carpet for a long moment before raising his eyes back to me, "I'll take you to you mother."

I knew exactly why he was offering.

Now he knew... She was all I had left.

"Your aim is fucking shitty, by the way..." His wet, red eyes narrowed to the broken lamp behind him and the Moby Dick book that lay next to it. "Really shitty."

I started down at JC, breathing deeply. He'd been sitting in the corner of my room, holding his jaw for almost an hour. I sat on the edge of my bed. My entire body was still shaking. My brain still hadn't completely processed what had just happened.

I’d never been in a relationship like the one Justin and I had in my entire life, so the proper way to deal with the shit pile of a situation I’d gotten myself in took a while to sink in. At first, I told myself that I should give Justin his much deserved space—especially if I didn’t want to end up with a mango sized protrusion of a bruise like the one that was fighting it’s way across the entire left side of JC’s face.

If I knew one thing about Justin I knew this: if he had a problem, he ran. In a perfect world, the way the two of us met might have changed that part of him that made him run from his problems instead of solving them. In the real world, I was sure that it hadn’t. I imagined coming back to Las Vegas and finding him gone or with another woman. Both concepts were equally terrifying and before I could stop myself, I was saying the first words I’d said to JC since we’d climbed into his car.

"Forget about taking me to my mother. Not now... Not today."

"What about... What about everything you said, earlier? What about her being the only thing you had left?"

"Tomorrow you'll still know where my mother is. I can’t say the same for Justin. I need to go to his place before he runs away."

"I can't drive you."

"I know. I'll drive us. Then I'll drop you off... Wherever you live."

"Okay."

Ten minutes later, we were speeding down Flamingo Road towards Las Vegas Blvd.

Ahead of us, the skyline looked like tiny little figurines sparkling with a jet black backdrop. Really, from afar, it was a beautiful city. It was when you made your way in that the lights could no longer mask the clouded arteries, weakened heart and charred lungs that was Las Vegas, NV.

"I don’t even know where he lives." JC mumbled, just as we flew past the Mandalay Bay. "I don't know where my best friend lives."

"It’s the completely huge, completely ridiculous, completely pretentious building next to the Trump Tower that screams money."

He stared at me.

"You’ll know it when you see it." I assured.

--

I remember quietly reminding myself to demand that JC stay in the car, but the minute I put it in park, I was out and running. By the time the elevator dinged and I stepped out onto Justin’s floor, I realized that there had been no need because JC wasn’t behind me.

Apart of me hurt for him. A very, very very…

Very small part.

I prepared myself to bang on Justin’s door like a madwoman, but whata surprised that there would be no need for that. It was hanging wide open.

I stepped inside of the condo not knowing what to expect. Steven, Justin, whores trying to get at Justin, pigs flying… the possibilities were endless.

Unfortunately, the very first person I saw was Trace.

Even more unfortunately, the next thing I saw was the half full suitcase laying on the floor in front of him. He was moving quickly, as if he had a flight to catch and he was all the way down to the wire. The suitcase on the floor was extremely sloppy with socks, sweaters, jeans and t-shirts all piled on top of each other with no particular order or plan He was leaving, and he was leaving soon. It seemed like the only clothes that weren’t in that overflowing case were the clothes on his back.

"Where are you going?"

You’d think a bomb had gone off with his grandmother standing right in the middle of it by the way he screamed, then jumped (impressively high) into the air the moment I asked the question. He held an arm out in front of him, every finger on his hand spread, and opened the panicked eyes that he’d jammed shut, meeting mine. "Fuck you scared the fucking shit out of me…" He quickly calmed himself down, considered me for a few more seconds, then went back to his frantic packing as if he’d been imagining my very presence. As he did this fucks, shits and damns fell from his lips every other second.

"Where are you going? Why are you packing?" I asked. My voice worked perfectly in tune with the insane man running in circles before me.

"I’m going home…" He mumbled, halfheartedly, "And can I say that it’s about the fuck time…"

"Is Justin going with you?"

Finally, he stopped moving around like a madman. He stood tall, hands at his sides, looking defeated, and met my eyes, "I don’t know what the fuck you did to him… but, yeah… he’s coming with me. We’re going home."

It hurt a million times more than I’d prepared myself for. I had to take a few deep breaths, because my heart had stopped beating. It was at that moment that I realized a small part of me was hoping that I was wrong. A small part of me was hoping that I would be a little bit harder to leave than Britney had. Just a little.

Apparently, I wasn’t. "I guess this is the best day of the last month for you, huh?" My voice was hoarse as I asked this.

Trace chuckled, fell to his knees and attempted to make sense of the pile he’d created. "Just when I’m starting to get used to your ass… maybe even… like you a little bit… you go and do…" He chuckled, "Whatever the fuck you did. Now we’re going home. And before you go blaming me," He held a hand up to me, "I tried to convince him to stay, but when Justin has his mind made up…"

He didn’t even have to finish. "I know." I said, "So I’m on your good side now, huh? Finally?"

"You were with him in California to meet his family. You flew with him to Tennessee for Paul’s funeral. You didn’t kick him while he was down. You were nice to him and you were nice to him because you wanted to be… it’s hard not to like you. You know? You’re for real."

"You’re giving me too much credit." I sighed, then couldn’t believe I was going to say what I was about to say. "I lied…" I added.

Trace seemed confused and eyed me while blindly separating his clothes into piles.

"I lied to him. I’ve been talking to JC for… a while. I was trying to help them mend their relationship and… it’s complicated. I didn’t tell Justin about it and he caught JC in my room a few hours ago."

He wasn’t nearly as stunned as I would have liked him to be. In fact, without hesitation, he asked, almost conversationally, "Did you fuck him?"

"No." I beamed, cringing.

"Good. Then all hope isn’t lost. It is for now." He laughed, and I couldn’t comprehend what could possibly be running through his head that was funny. "Give him a few months, he’ll take you back…"

"A few months?"

"At best."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a few years? A few lifetimes? Justin isn’t the most forgiving person. I mean, I highly doubt that—"

"Hi. Hello. Have I known Justin for my entire god damn life… or have you? Huh?"

My cringed deepened, "Point fucking taken. No reason to get a fucking attitude." He rolled his eyes and it was my turn to laugh, "well… I can’t remember the last time I’ve had more fun, but… I’m going to see Justin. I assume he’s in his room breaking something really expensive with no concern for cost or value?"

Trace considered this, then nodded, "Pretty much… and can I just say that it would be a huge mistake to try and talk to him right now… even though you’re not going to listen?"

"Sure."

"It would be a huge mistake to try and talk to him right now, Trevion."

I let a few seconds pass, nodded stiffly and pointed across the large condo, "I’ll just help myself to his room…" And made my way past.

I didn’t look back, but I head Trace mumble, "Hey… I did my part."

--

Justin was a sight to behold from the moment I opened the door to his room. It was as if I hadn’t seen him in years. There wasn’t a light in the room except for the moon seeping in through the curtains, and everything, included his face, seemed more dramatic.

His bed had never looked so big as it did with his little brother lying in the middle of it. Lying smack on top of the white sheets in green and blue Superman underwear, Steven was on his back, arms and legs spread, out cold. He was snoring softy and had stress lines in his eyes that no child should ever see. His eyebrows were pulled together and spawned a strong frown that would never belong on his angelic face. An outsider would assume that he’d just gotten a spanking, had his candy taken away for the night or missed the latest episode of Dora and that was the reason his sleep was so stressful.

But I knew better. The kid was holding some very adult problems on his shoulders. He’d seen something that no child should have to see and I felt a protection and a guilt for him so powerful that it was everything I had not to cross the room and wrap my arms around his sleeping body. He was in pain and I felt responsible for that pain. I momentarily wondered that what I felt must have been what most parents in the world felt when their children stayed out past their curfew or had unprotected sex with the gardener. I felt responsible for the sleeping little brat, and it stressed me out even more than I already was.

Then I saw Justin, and the stress grew even bigger.

He had several bags packed, just like Trace, but his were much neater. He probably had a compartment and a spot for everything all the way down to his dental floss. That was what Justin was like. Maybe he was so insanely organized, I thought, because he couldn't stand his inability to organize and control everything that was going on inside of him.

There was no way that he didn’t hear his bedroom door open, it creaked loudly when it had, but he didn’t look up. He must have immediately assumed I was Trace.

Like I wasn’t even there, he crossed the room to his bed and began putting a small pair of shoes on Steven’s socked feet. The brat didn’t wake up, of course. The entire building could go tumbling to the ground and he wouldn’t wake up if he wasn’t good and ready. Quietly, Justin dressed Steven, first shoes, then pants, then t-shirt, then a jacket. His hands were shaking the entire time.

After Steven was dressed, Justin left him to sleep and caressed the out of control curls off of his forehead. They bounced right back.

"You have a lot of fucking nerve coming here..." He whispered, waited a second, then turned his head. His blazing blue eyes sliced through mine, and he looked angrier than I’d ever seen him.

I hadn’t realized that he knew I was there and I instinctively took a step back when his eyes met mine. There was a part of me that was afraid of him, and I hated that. "I had a feeling that you would run away. You’re good for that, right?"

I couldn’t believe that I’d just said that to him. From the look in his eyes, he couldn’t, either. "Are you fucking serious?" He asked me, squinting as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

"Are you even going to give me a chance to explain before you pack up all your shit and leave?"

"Hell no."

"Why."

"Because there’s nothing to explain. You were meeting up with JC behind my back. That’s all I need to know." As he spoke, he never rose his voice, and this annoyed me severely.

"You don’t know the situation."

"I don’t want to know the situation."

"You don’t?"

"I don’t want to know the situation. I already know everything that I need to know. I know that you were talking to my worst enemy. My worst enemy." He enunciated those two words, "We were supposed to be a… a fucking team and you were talking to him. That, right there, Trevion, is all I need to fucking know!"

With every word that left his mouth his tone rose a little more until he was screaming. I jumped every time.

"That’s all I need to know! That and the fact that I don’t ever want to see you again. Not next week, not next month, not next year and I sure as hell don’t want to see you right now!"

"Justin. Please." I begged.

"No, fuck you, Trevion! God damn it, how can you be standing here right now? If you weren’t a woman I’d swear to god you had a bigger dick than I do!"

"I’m here because I want to make this right!"

"You can’t make it right. You can’t make it right."

"Why?!"

He looked ready to scream an answer, thought better of it, and cocked his head back. Quickly he shot his eyes to his brother, who was still out cold, then shook his head. "You need to leave." He said, calmly.

"No."

"Leave, Trevion, I’m not playing with your ass."

"It doesn't have to end like this for us."

"Don’t you understand?" His eyes were so pained, "It’s already ended."

A thought crossed my mind, and the moment it did, it seemed genius. I knew if I didn’t follow through on it that I would talk myself out of it so, before I could do that, I pushed myself off of the door frame and stepped into his room.

With every step I took toward him, he took a step back. This continued until his back was up against the wall. I barricaded him in, putting one hand on either side of his body, stood on my toes and opened my mouth over his.

His entire body froze as I moved my lips over his. For a moment, I wondered whether he was going to stand there like a dead fish with no reaction. For a moment, I felt like a true idiot.

Then he sighed and wrapped his arms around my waist and was kissing me back, passionately. A euphoria washed over every bone in my body when he wrapped his arms around me and I wrapped my own around his neck, pulling him as closely to me as possible. As soon a his lips were on mine the reason I’d kissed him in the first place flew from my mind and all that existed was having more of his as soon as humanely possible.

Our lips battled endlessly after that, with both of using pulling away and pausing only to take a few gasping breaths before diving back into each other, yet again. Justin’s dug his fingers into my hair and clung onto whatever he could hold onto. He pulled my lips harder onto his, deepening the already intense kiss and slipping his tongue past my open lips, sliding it over mine. I returned this gesture, whimpering softly when he pulled away from the kiss, keeping my bottom lip between his teeth as he did.

When he released it, I sighed, "Oh god." I clutched his neck in my hands and tried to pull his lips back to mine, but he pulled back. Instantly, I was snapped back to reality. Looking up into his eyes, everything seemed clearer.

When his eyes hardened in mine, I realized that everything seemed clearer to him, too. It was as if he couldn’t decide whether to push me as hard as he could or rip off all of my clothes. The obvious indecision did nothing to defuse the fire he’d started in me.

I massaged his cheek, desperate to win him back because I could tell I was quickly losing him. He let me peck his lips, then kiss them, then cover them with my own. Before I knew it, we were lost in another embrace, and I remember being surprised at how easy this was before completely losing myself in him for a second time.

Then, completely out of nowhere, he wasn’t kissing me anymore and was pushing my hands away. "Wait, stop…" I tried touching him in any place that he wasn’t blocking, but he continued to move his own hands, keeping mine off of him, "Stop, stop, stop…" He must have been aware of how out of control we were both being, because he was doing everything in his power to put a stop to what we’d already started before it got out of hand.

"No…" I cried, frowning deeply, "I know it’s my fault, but… do you have to make this so hard?" My eyes instinctively traveled to the zipper of his jeans and I almost laughed, "Pun… definitely intended."

He almost laughed, I saw it, and my heart broke when he fought it back. "I have to pack." HE pushed me away, completely.

That hurt, and I was sure it showed in my eyes. "You’re still leaving?"

"Yes." He crossed the room.

My eyes followed him. "You’re an asshole."

He laughed out loud, but it was a mean laugh. "So now I’m the asshole…"

"You can’t leave Justin! God dammit!"

"You can’t tell me what the fuck I can and can’t do, Trevion. You can kiss me and you can grind on my dick and do all of the shit that you know I can’t fight… but you can’t tell me what to do."

"Do you still have feelings for me?"

"Of course I still have…" He seemed to consider whether he should continue, "That doesn’t matter."

"I’ll take that as a yes."

This bothered him, "I also have feelings for marijuana. I have feelings for JC. I have feelings for Britney. That doesn’t make them good feelings. And that doesn’t make them right. I have to know when to walk away. I’ve learned that with this experience."

"Haven’t you also learned that walking away isn’t always the best solution? I mean, imagine how different things would be if you hadn’t walked away from Britney…"

"I do think about that. All the time. And the more I think about it… the more I think that maybe I should have never left her. That is one thing that you taught me. So thanks."

I gaped at him. "I can’t fucking believe you just said that to me."

He continued to pack absently, "Believe it."

"Are you trying to hurt my fucking feelings?"

"Yes."

His honesty startled me for a moment, "Well… you’re doing a terrific fucking job."

"Good. You kissed me. You kissed me knowing that I would kiss you back. You’re playing dirty now, so I’m cutting you off."

"You can’t cut me off! Nobody cuts me off but me! And I didn’t fuck JC!" I added, confused about why I hadn’t said that a long time ago.

"He fucked Britney. She’s beautiful, she’s rich, she’s famous, she was mine and he fucked her. How hard would it be for him to get you?"

"Fuck you." I said, really meaning it that time. "You know I didn’t fuck him." He didn’t look up from his suitcase. In fact, he didn’t respond in any way. A fury so hot rushed through me that I immediately black out and lost control of every word that left my mouth. "I didn’t fuck JC and you fucking know it, Justin! Do you really think that lowly of me? Do you really think that I’m that much of a fucking bitch that I would do that to you?"

"What am I supposed to think, Trevion?"

"You’re not supposed to think! You’re supposed to know! You should know that I would never do that to you even if I don’t give you a whole hell of a lot of reason to believe it. I fucked up! I know that I fucked up and I’m trying to make it up to you, god dammit! You should know that I would never do that!"

"How the fuck should I know something like that?!"

"Because I fucking love you and you should just fucking know!"

I don’t know who was more stunned, me or him. I couldn’t see myself, but I could see that his eyes were about to jump right out of his head. A second later, tears rushed to them. "What the fuck did you just say?" He demanded.

"I don’t know." I gasped. I took a big step away from him, as if he had a very contagious form of a very deadly disease, and covered my mouth with my hand. A second later, I dropped my hand. "No, I do know. I said…"

He stared at me too intensely for words. "You need to leave." He said. His voice was extremely hoarse. "How the fuck could you say that to me, Trevion? You need to leave," He said, again, shakily.

He was extremely moved by what I’d just laid on him, and I couldn’t blame him, so I nodded. "I’ll be back by tomorrow. Will you be here?"

He didn’t answer, but I didn’t need him to. For some reason. I already knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

--

The next day, he was gone.

"His place is empty?" Kim asked, taking her eyes off of the Roseanne re-run.

It was six in the evening that I spent a good chunk of crying like a punk. "Bare." I spat.

"He's just gone?"

"Disappeared." I whispered. "I told him I loved him last night." I said, immediately after.

Kim groaned.

"I know."

"He'll call." She reassured.

"Don't pity me."

"He'll call." She said, again.

"No... He wont."

And he didn't. Not for two weeks. I tried calling him several times. He never had the phone that he bought for me turned off even though he didn't seem to have any plans of talking to me. He never asked me to return the car he'd purchased. It seemed like he was so desperate to be away from me that he wouldn't ask that even if he wanted to.

Kim and I both lay in our beds watching Access Hollywood. Someone in her English class told her that Justin was going to be on it talking about me.

"Apparently he's going to address the stupid ass magazines who outed you."

As the show started, my curiosity peaked.

It was bizarre to hear the hosts of the show, people I'd never met, speaking about me like they knew me.

"This is crazy!" Kim beamed, smiling widely, "Here it comes, here it comes."

My heart jumped when Justin's face came on the screen. He was walking down a red carpet for some GQ event and the first question he was asked was about the Star cover.

His response?

"Just like the entire tabloid magazine industry that article is ridiculous. Trevion Spencer is guilty of nothing but having the…" He looked at the camera, "The misfortune of being thrust into a business that she never wanted to be in. It’s not true. She doesn’t deserve it."

The reporter went to ask something else, but Justin had already walked away. Already moved on to the next nosey bastard. This nosey bastard asked about me, as well.

"Oh for Christ sake." I cringed.

"What about reports that you and Trevion are involved romantically?"

Justin simply said, "We’re friends." And moved on.

He stood up for me. He had every reason to go in front of those cameras and trash me until I cried, but he hadn’t. A part of me was sure he’d defended me because he was a professional. The hopeful part of me believed that he’d done it because he still cared. He was angry, and rightfully so. But he stilled cared.

I pulled my phone, the one he’d bought for me, out of my pocket and the moment it was out in the open it vibrated. I screamed. Then it started playing a tune I was unfamiliar with. It wasn’t often that this phone rang, so any movement or noise coming out of it for any reason was sure to leave me frazzled for a moment.

I was completely convinced that it would be Burns, who I also hadn't spoke to in weeks. "Hello?"

"Trevion."

Just the sound of his voice sent my heart into a tailspin. "Hi!" I beamed. Way too loud. Way too eager.

"It’s Justin."

"I know." The smartass tone behind my voice was strong. I tried to swallow it back. "How are you?" I asked.

"I’m not calling to do that." He said, harshly.

I was taken aback, "Well…"

He got right to it. "Steve is turning six next week."

"Oh…"

"I'm throwing a party for him in two days..." He sighed, deeply, as if he were being somehow forced into doing something that he was deeply against, "Can you make it?"

"Can I make it?" I asked, sounding almost as confused as I felt.

His impatience grew, "Can you come down?" He beamed.

"There's no need to raise your fucking voice at me, Justin."

Silence. "It’s on Friday night." Great, now he was pissed.

"In two days?" I reached up and rubbed my forehead.

"Yeah." He snapped.

"That’s perfect… Spring break starts Friday."

"Perfect." He said, dryly.

"Do you want me to come down?" Oh my god, I was such a pathetic cunt.

"Steven asked for you..." He sighed, again, "So I'm asking..."

"I'll be there."

I answered before I could stop myself and Justin hung up immediately after. Immediately after, I wondered what I'd been thinking to accept. Immediately after that... I started planning.

--

Thursday afternoon, Kim and I discussed it as we sat on our beds, across from each other, looking scary in the way only the morning sunshine could illustrate.

"Okay!" Kim held her hands out in front of her, sitting across from me on her bed, "The obvious plan is to throw you into an outfit that'll make his dick hard as a rock the second he sees you."

I pretended to consider this then beamed, "Pass."

"Pass?" She was horrified.

"Pass."

"May I ask why?"

"Because this isn't a made for tv movie and Justin isn't an idiot, Kim!"

"That's certainly up for debate."

"No."

"All I'm saying is a dress! Not even a short one."

"I've never seen you in a dress!"

"I've never screwed a man over the way you screwed Justin!"

"Well..."

She gave me several seconds of her time, then continued, "Okay, then. I've got the perfect dress." She gave me a quick appraisal, "Hm, no hips, no ass, no thighs... No visible waist... Barely any tits. How you got Justin Timberlake, I will never know!" She snickered, "Well, we don't have much to work with. You're hips are non-existent and that's a plus. But you don't have any titties to compensate... Not so much a plus. I'm thinking of a sundress. You could pull it off. It's--"

"Kim!"

She was already off of her bed and halfway to her armoire, "Huh?" She tossed her electric hair over her shoulder and gave me her even brighter eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm helping you fix what you've so gigantically broken."

"Dressing like a whore is not the way to get Justin back. He's not like that."

"Is he a man?" Kim asked, in a high pitched voice.

I rolled my eyes.

"He's a man right?" She didn't even let me answer before laughing cynically, "He's like that." Then she went back to her armoire.

"I still can't believe that you never hit that." I heard her smack her lips and imagined that she was shaking her head since I couldn't see her. "You're not even smart enough to bone a rich and handsome guy who was obviously dying to fuck your brains out... How can you be expected to handle this entire party all on your own? You can't. You just can't. In fact, I think I should come with you, follow you everywhere you go and regulate your conversations... Just to do some damage control."

She was completely and obviously joking, but I sat up from the bed quickly, my eyes wide. You'd think she'd just found the cure for cancer by how enthusiastically I cried, "Yes!"

Her head snapped to me. Then her lip cocked, "Huh?"

"You have to come!"

"You're joking."

I shook my head frantically, "You have to. I can't do it without you."

"You're not joking." She said in disbelief. I wondered if she was even listening to me.

"Please, Kim..." I probably looked extra pathetic because I could physically see her relenting.

"Oh, damn it!" She beamed. "I wanted to go shopping this weekend. You know I have that MCR show coming up."

MCR stood for My Chemical Romance, one of Kim's favorite bands and an abbreviation that I would have never known the meaning of hadn't it been for her.

"Last time I checked, there are a couple of malls in Los Angeles, Connelly."

Her eyes lit up, "Oh shit! He does live in LA, doesn't he?!" Her eyes were jubilant.

"Unfortunately." I spat.

"All right, Miss Spencer, I'll accompany you to party on one... No! Two conditions."

"Name 'em."

"I dress you from head to toe. Once we get to the party, we split up but you report to me every hour to tell me what's going on with you and Justin. Whatever I say you should do... You do."

"You're asking me to hand over my soul." I laughed.

She didn't. "Yes." She confirmed, stone faced.

"All right, fine. Anything that gives me company as I walk right into certain death."

"Excellent." She threw her head back and laughed, manically, rubbing her palms together.

I frowned at her, then grinned, "Freak." I whispered.

"What are you going to do with your hair?"

I reached up and touched my hair, then shrugged.

Was hair important?

"You can't be serious. No wonder you're such a bitch. Nobody's going to fuck you looking like that."

My room monster, ladies and gentlemen.

"We should have been on the highway an hour ago." I said, two hours later, frowning the entire way through Kim's process. I couldn't believe I was actually letting this girl dress me and put her hands in my head. A red-headed white girl was make important hair decisions on my part. "What are you doing to me?"

"Shit, as much as I can. Why do you wear your hair so short?"

"So it's not in my way."

"Thank god your face is so beautiful or you'd look like a boy. "

"Wow, you have the insult disgusted as a compliment thing down to a science, Kim."

"No titties or no hair. Make a choice. You can't have both."

"Um... I'm pretty sure it's still my body."

"And I'm pretty sure the Anne Hecht haircut saw it's glory days somewhere around '97."

"I'm trying to grow it out."

"Every time I try to style it my hands slip out."

"Sorry?"

After five more minutes she sighed and threw her hands up, "Well, there's no time to do anything big with it." She hopped up and stood in front of me, "You have a really beautiful face. I say you comb it all back and wear some extravagant earrings. Your make-up is already perfect. You'll scream sex."

"I don't have extravagant anything."

Without looking, she reached a hand into one of her drawers and threw a box at me. I opened it and didn't even know where to start with all of the jewelry that glistened up at me.

"You're letting me touch your stuff?"

"Every girl deserves to get dressed up every once in a while. Even bitches like you." She pushed me, playfully, to let me know she was kidding. She was kind of sweet when she wanted to be. "Your skin tone is just dark enough for you to pull off gold without it flushing you out. Forget about wearing a dress..."

"Forgotten!"

She rolled her eyes, "I have a top that would look really good on you. Grab those dangly gold earrings out of the box and comb your hair back with a little bit of gel. But don't use too much or you'll look like Al Pacino ready to re-shoot scenes for Scar face."

"That was lame." I mumbled, but did as I was told. I didn't know shit. Kim could be sending me out there looking like a space creature and I wouldn't know any better. I'd never done this before.

I turned to Kim once she'd revisited her armoire and surveyed the clothing in her hand. The jeans were cute--trendy, with a cool gold design on the back pockets. The pointy toed boots were tolerable, but the shirt...

"And... Where do my tits go in that top?"

She rolled her eyes and poked her pointer fingers into the appropriate areas of the shimmering halter, "Here..."

"Oh. That's..."

"That's every man's fantasy. Trust me."

Four hours later, in California we were. Kim and I stood at the front door of what could only be described as his mansion. I gave her a few minutes to drink in the sights around her. I knew she needed a minute to be absolutely disgusted that there where people in the world who lived this beautifully when she and I lived in a place where a party was thrown for every night that we didn’t see a rodent, insect or unfathomable glob of some sort.

"This isn’t rich." She cringed at me, "This is nasty rich."

"Yeah, it is." I agreed tightly. "I’m about to puke so I’m going to knock before I talk myself out of it." I knocked on the door the minute after I said this. I dropped my hand back to my side, fist still clenched, "I knocked." I whispered.

Kim seemed very proud. "Good." She smiled.

The door opened.

I’d never been so happy to see Trace.

He wasn’t happy to see me. Marginally happy to see Kim, even though she was a face he’d never seen. His eyes studied her, then they were back on me.

"You’re early." He grumbled.

"Today’s Friday last I checked."

"It’s Friday morning."

"Steven is a six year old boy, right? When were you planning on having this party? At midnight?"

"This is LA. WE do things differently here."

Kim snapped her fingers, "Damn, Trev. I told you we shouldn’t have got Power Rangers. Everybody knows that forty ounces are all the rage on the monkey bars."

I smiled at Kim. I kind of loved her.

To my shock, Trace was smiling, as well, "And who the hell are you?" His words were in no way threatening. If I hadn’t been struggling to hold down my lunch at the very thought, I’d go so far as to say he was flirting.

"I would be Kim." She waved, "Trevion’s unfortunate roommate."

I nudged her as Trace agreed, "Unfortunate is certainly the word." He laughed with her. His eyes came back to me. His smile fell, "You’re early."

"Yeah, we already did that." I said, nodding.

"Well, I can’t let you in." He grinned.

"Why the hell not?"

"Um… because Justin would rip me a new one."

"Justin is the one who invited me."

"No. Steven. Steven is the one who invited you."

I scoffed. So did Kim.

Giving up, Trace sighed and motioned into the house, "Common in."

The offer, of course, was extended more to Kim than it was to me.

We both stepped in and Kim and Trace immediately got to talking.

As for me? I had no idea what lay ahead of me.

No idea, at all.

I made my way up the stairs to Justin's bedroom. The smell and look of the house immediately took me back to the day we'd found out about Paul and tears sprung to my eyes.

When I reached his bedroom door, I contemplated knocking, then decided against it. He'd made it clear that if I wanted to be in his life I was going to have to barricade my way in.

I stepped into his room and walked down the long hallway lined with mirrored closets. Once I made it past those to the opening, I stopped in my tracks. Before me, sitting on his king sized bed, was Justin, and a girl I'd never seen. She was long and lean with basic brown hair. She was nothing to write home about, not at all. She wasn't Britney, which was always a plus. But she wasn't me, either, which was a problem. Immediately, I told myself to walk away. They were sitting side by side on the edge of the bed, talking and I could hear them very clearly. It was wrong to stand there and listen. It was wrong to see what this was all about.

I was only human, however, and I tucked myself in a small corner.

"Thank god you're here, Gia." He said, eyeing her.

So that was the bitches name? Good to know.

They were sitting arm to arm passing a joint back and forth. This went on for a while, quietly. Every time Justin took a hit, he frowned.

"I promised myself I was going to quit this shit." He smiled.

She took the joint from him and placed it between her heart shaped lips. "You remember No Strings Attached, right? You used to smoke everyday."

"I was with Britney... She was driving me crazy. What man wouldn't?" AT the mention of Britney, his smile disappeared. His eyes glazed over and the bitch saw her chance. She snaked a skinny arm around his shoulder and scooted until their thighs touched. He leaned in. He didn't dissuade her blatant pass in the slightest. "I miss her."

"You guys were together for four years. Of course you do."

He laughed. This confused her. "I wasn't talking..." He sighed, then laughed, again, "... About Britney."

My heart fluttered.

She considered him for a long while, then quickly passed him the joint. He accepted it. "You need it more than I do." She shook her head.

"I wasn't talking about Britney, but I should have been talking about her. Not Trevion. Right?" He sucked on the quickly dwindling stick, frowning against the smoke billowing into his eyes. "You think I'm crazy?"

"I don't know what kind of relationship the two of you had. People have fallen in love at first sight. You and her had a whole month."

"Who said anything about love?"

Her eyes widened at his new tone.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologized. He held up the joint. "That's exactly why I quit. Mood swings."

She snatched it from him, "You're hogging it, anyway."

"Was it stupid of me to go to Vegas?"

"Yes."

"Stupid of me to trust someone I hardly knew?"

"Yes." She nodded, "One of your worst qualities."

"Was it stupid of me to leave Britney?"

"No." She answered immediately.

"You never liked her."

"No."

"Do you like Trevion?"

"I don't know Trevion." She looked at him, then rolled her eyes, "Let's put it this way... I dislike her less than I disliked Britney."

considered her, then smiled, "You would have hated her."

"More than likely."

"She would have hated you." He raised his eyebrows.

"From what I've read about her... She probably would have."

"That stuff they wrote about her... That isn't who she is. She tries to be tough and mean but... She's considerate. She's hilarious. She's frank... But in a refreshing way..." He stared at her, "Why am I standing up for her?"

She laughed with him, shaking her head and allowing him to take the burning stick from her, "You were emotionally attached. It was just you and her for two months. Of course you miss her."

She was talking to him like he was fucking five years old.

"Of course you miss her, baby."

Baby?!

"Who wouldn't?"

"You wouldn't!" He beamed at her, then laughed. My heart did a jealous dance. "You've always been stronger. Ever since you kicked my ass in the sandbox when we were five."

Her voice lowered, "I could be strong for you now."

He shook his head, "I didn't even know her... Really. I didn't know her, at all. Why is she getting to me like this?" He put his head in his hands. As soon as they were in his hands, they were out, "I bought her a car."

Her eyes widened.

He nodded, his own eyes wide, as well, "Yeah. Actually, I bought her two cars. I bought her two cars and let her take her pick."

"Where the fuck is my car?" Gia asked, pointing to herself.

He shook his head, "I put her name on my phone plan. I introduced her to Steve... To my mother."

"Steven was the one who wanted her down here, right?"

"Unfortunately. I thought about saying no but... I owe him."

She rubbed his back, soothingly.

"We never even fucked, we barely kissed... And I was completely whipped. Not even pussy whipped. Just... Whipped." He face had grown extremely sad. "Not once did I question her. Not once."

She rubbed his back, then grew tired of that and gripped his thigh in her big, bony hand, "I wont let that bitch do this to you. You've never had a problem that I couldn't fix."

"You can't fix this one, Gia."

She leaned close.

I smiled when he, instinctively, leaned away.

"Let me fix this." Her voice was so blatantly sexual that even I was taken aback.

Justin seemed to be, as well. "What are you gonna do? Kiss my wounds and feed me an ice cream cone?"

"I can make it all go away. I promise."

Justin was no longer hiding his feelings behind laughter and jokes. He looked confused, "G..."

She leaned closer, her lips mere inches from his.

"What are you..." He filched away when she tried to kiss him, but that was it. He didn't appear revolted. He didn't push her away, "What are you doing?"

She took her hand from his leg long enough to remove her jacket. She never moved away from him, never let the breath of air that separated their lips see another inch. "I'm making it better." The jacket feel breezily from her thin arms and she closed in on the space that he wouldn't. The joint burned in his hand as his eyes locked to hers. When her lips covered his, my heart stopped.

He hesitated. Then, in the next second, he kissed her back, tentatively.

And my heart broke.

They parted and studied each other. Then she closed the space, again. This time, she slid her tongue past his lips. He accepted her.

I stood. Sickened. Entranced by the private moment. They didn't speak, again after that.

I couldn't move. I couldn't stand the sight, but I couldn't move.

She pulled away, took the joint front him, "Don't waste it." She whispered before taking a huge hit of it, struggling to hold it down. He stared at her. She hadn't even blown all of the smoke out when Justin covered her lips with his, again.

Her hair clip came out and a curtain of brown hair hid her face from my view, but not her lips. The shimmery top she had on was next. They parted just long enough to get it over her head.

My body shook.

So did his. When she pulled away, he couldn't seem to figure out where to put his hands. So he held them in the air next to her face. His fingers did a nervous dance.

"You can touch me." She whispered, reaching behind her and undoing the clasp of her bra.

Justin's eyes immediately took in her hard, pink nipples and small, pert breasts.

"Touch me."

"G..." Justin shook his head but his hands had a mind of their own and where headed to the nipples that were so nice I kind of wanted to touch them. Quite frankly, he was a man fighting a useless battle and everyone in the room knew it.

As he slowly fondled her she got bold. Real bold.

"I want to suck your dick." She whispered this loud and proud in the thick air. Loud enough for me to hear.

Justin's wide eyes left her breasts, his hands froze on her nipples. He looked her in the eye, but he said nothing.

"You'll forget all about it..." The button of his pants popped, "I promise." The zipper fell, making music in the silence. "Just lay back." She reached into his fly and pulled him out into the open air. "Relax."

He placed the quickly diminishing weed between his lips, leaving it hanging between them.

Her fingers enclosed his shaft. I stared at the pink head peeking from between her clasped fingers. Justin groaned. He was gone. A man lost. Putty in her hands.

I couldn't look away from the most private part of him, not even after she began to stroke it... Slowly.

"Oh my god..." He moaned, but I didn't look up to see his face. I couldn't look away from her hand. With every stroke I was further imprisoned by the sight before me.

Gradually, her strokes quickened. They grew father and more pronounced as he hardened. With every passing second she had to go a little high and a little longer, until she couldn't even get her fingers all the way around him, anymore.

Her mouth was agape at the sight before her, in her hand, as was mine.

"Lay back." She put her other hand on his chest, never letting the other cease it's swift pumping. She forced him to lay down. Justin complied, sighing in pleasure the entire way down.

His erection stood alone now. Tall and strong in the hot air around it. Her fingers were like a vise and it was clear that the only way she'd leave him without his cum all over her hand was over her dead body.

Then she replaced her hand with her mouth. Opened as wide as she could. Taking almost all of him between her lips.

Justin cried out.

Her head bobbed, frantically, up and down. Yes, she was a woman on a mission.

He cupped the back of her head in his big hand, urging her on.

I made myself leave the room before they could hear my cries.

I came barreling down the stairs of the mansion. Surprisingly, I wasn't hysterical.

Surprisingly, I fooled Kim into thinking I was perfectly fine, but not Trace.

"Oh Christ..." He cringed as I came into the den where him and Kim were playing Xbox, "What happened now?"

"Nothing." I frowned, "I just forgot... That I have to buy Steven a birthday present."

Sadly, that wasn't a lie.

"Kim!" I screamed to her when she went back to the game, "Come with me."

"But I'm winning!" She cried.

"You're my life couch today, remember? I wouldn't want to make a left turn when I need to make a right."

Poor girl was blinded by power. The second I said this, she was up and following me to the door.

--

Kim was in the passengers seat of my Passat, no idea what was going on as I flew down the road. Since the moment we'd left Justin's we'd been driving down random streets searching, aimlessly, for a toy store. Five minutes of that and Kim was half asleep.

"Justin really bought you this car?" She yawned.

I turned on my blinker and switched lanes before answering. "He did."

"He's sweet."

"He was."

"Hm..."

"After we make it back to Vegas… I'm giving it back."

That woke her up, real fast. "Excuse me?!"

I held my hands up against the steering wheel in defense, "I can't keep it!"

"May I ask why?" I wondered if she was aware how much she used that phrase.

"It wouldn't feel right... It wouldn't be right to keep something he bought for me. Something he bought for me when he thought I was someone that I wasn't. Since the minute he met me he's been giving me way to much credit. He cared about me. This car proves it and so do a lot of other things he did. It just wouldn't feel right. It's a beautiful car, but... Every time I looked at it, I would think of him. I don't want that. Especially not if I'm never going to see him, again."

She stared at me, and for a moment I believed I had her understanding, then she mumbled, "Stupid bitch." Shaking her head at me. She said it again, "Stupid bitch." Just for elaboration.

"Thanks for the support, Kim." I rolled my eyes, "Really. Thanks."

"Anytime." She yawned, again.

"He was getting head."

"Hm?" She woke herself up for the second time.

"I went to his bedroom to apologize... For the second time. I opened his bedroom door and there he was in bed with some girl named Gia, smoking a joint. I made the massive mistake of spying on them and stayed just long enough to witness her deep throat technique. That girl should teach a class on that shit, by the way."

"Oh... My... God." She scoffed, "Fucking... Men."

"We were never together, so..."

"Men are bullshit!"

"He never belonged to me, so..." I hadn't realized what an affect this event had on me until that very moment.

"Oh, Christ, don't start crying." Kim groaned. "Don’t' cry a single fucking tear. He doesn't deserve it."

I couldn't help it. "Some bitch was giving him head. How the fuck is that supposed to make me feel!?" I couldn't even look at her, ashamed that I was crying. "He knows that I'm sorry, I said it to him the minute he found me with JC. He was never my boyfriend... We never made things official. But we were... We were at a point that you don't fuck other people. You just don't."

"It's not technically fucking... It's just oral, right?"

"Fuck the politics, Kim. If his dick is out of his pants for someone other than me... He's fucking someone else."

She didn't fight me on this. In fact, she finally seemed to agree. "Didn’t he know we were coming over?" She asked.

"I called him right when we exited the 101. Left a message."

She stared at me, and it took me a moment to come to the same conclusion she obviously had. Then she spoke my thoughts right out loud. "Looks like the man doesn't need a stage to put on a show, huh?"

"I guess not." I said, my lips tight.

"Did he see you?"

"No. I walked out the second I saw it. Otherwise I would have broke her fucking jaw! Then I would have cut his fucking dick off right after!"

"Preach."

I pounded on my blinker, "And you know what really fucking gets me?" Changed lanes. Someone honks, but I pay them no attention. "That was the first time I'd ever seen him that way. It was the first time I'd ever seen his dick and it wasn't even meant for me. That was the first time that I ever saw him as this... Man with a passion and a sexuality about him. I was a little..."

"Turned on?" She offered.

"Yeah!" I beamed, feeling more comfortable since she wasn't judging me. "If I wasn't so pissed off I might have pushed that cock sucking bitch to the side so I could have my turn!"

Kim laughed out loud. "Shut the fuck up!"

"For real!" I laughed, too.

"Shiiiit!" She pointed at me, "Fucking whore." Laughed harder.

I didn't even realize how hard I was laughing and how much fun I was having until I almost rear ended the mini van in front of me.

"Fuck!" Kim cried, clutching the dashboard for safety. She didn't lay back into he reclined seat until everything calmed down. "Fuck..." She said, again, "That's some powerful dick he's got. We almost died because of it and the mother fucker aint even here!" She watched me, "You do know that we’re going back to Vegas over my dead body?"

She was saying exactly what I hoped she would. “You do know, Trevion, that we’re turning around and going straight back. You must know that payback is a bitch… right?"

I did know that. I really did. "I just need a little air. Besides…" I pushed my hair out of my eyes, "I haven’t seen Steven, yet. I have to wish him a happy birthday."

"Um…. Okay."

"He’s a kid."

"You couldn’t wish him a happy one over the phone?"

The very thought seemed overwhelmingly cruel.

"Not this kid." I whispered.

"Hm… well… I guess it’s a good thing we’re going back."

--

When we returned to the house with a birthday bag full of Power Rangers, guns and Hot Wheels Lynn greeted us.

"Good morning, baby!" She kissed my cheek. She looked at Kim, "Good morning, baby!" She kissed her too, even though she clearly had no idea who she was. Her eyes met mine, "We were just getting ready to have lunch before Steven's little guests arrive."

"Lunch?" I asked.

"Mmhm." She nodded, "Me, you, Justin, Gia--that's his best friend since he was five--"

"Really?!" Kim beamed.

I nudged her. “I thought Trace was his best friend. What happened to Trace?" I asked. These days, Trace was looking pretty damn good.

"Trace isn't Justin's friend... That's his brother. That's my other son."

"Got it." I said, tightly.

"He wont be at lunch, though. He's out getting the cake.. And Steven will be there, too, obviously. Common! Should be fun!"

I looked at Kim. She looked at me. "Shoot me." She spat.

"Only if you shoot me first."

Lynn led us into the dining room and, for the first time since catching him with Gia, I saw Justin. HE was across the table, sitting next to her. He looked at me. I looked at him.

His eyes left mine and traveled my body. Slowly. Top to bottom.

His eyes met mine.

Then they toured my body, again. This time, they lingered at my shimmery top.

He didn't seem disgusted, I noticed, but he didn't seem as thrilled as I would have liked, either.

I stared at him.

He looked away.

I wanted to punch him.

The table was full to the hilt with food. There was barely room from the tennis racket sized plates and silverware that were in front of us. With every passing second I could not figure out how I'd ended up at this dinner table and how I was going to get through lunch with these people.

Directly across the table from me sat Justin. He was going out of his way not to look at me and, every time he did, it seemed like he was running through different scenarios in his mind about how to kill me right where I sat without anyone noticing.

Kim sat on my right. Every time someone said or did something stupid, she'd hit her knee against mine. After the fifth time, I hit her back, as hard as I could.

"Ouch!" She screamed. Unaware that the chatter at the table had come to a complete halt she shot me the dirtiest look she could pull, "Bitch."

"Fuck you." I mouthed, "We're at the dinner table, Kim, have a little respect." I rolled my eyes and threw a smile at the other's. You'd think Kim and I had four heads, the way they were looking at us. "I'm so sorry, Kim hasn't been housebroken, yet."

Kim bit her tongue. I could tell how badly she wanted to say something.

Gia spoke to me, "We haven't met." She touched her hand to her chest, "I'm Gia. It's Trevion, right?” I pulled a grimace at her. Her smile fell.

"Trevion doesn't play well with others."

My eyes shot to Justin. Half of me was in complete shock that he'd spoken of me, at all. The other half couldn't get the picture of that bitch sucking his dick out of it's mind. Ah, to be torn in two.

Lynn spoke from next to her son, "How have you been, Trevion? It was so sweet of you to find a way down here for Steve. I know you have school, and all..."

Justin answered for me, "She's fine." He said, shortly.

My eyes caught fire. Lynn studied her son in confusion. She had no idea what was going on."

I thought he told his mom everything." Kim whispered in my ear.

I just shrugged in response.

"Something to say Kim?" Justin asked.

"Yes. I just said it." She answered, sharply.

"Who are you?" Lynn chimed in.

"Kim." She replied shortly.

"She's Trevion's charming roommate." Justin informed.

"Ah!" Lynn nodded.

"You go to school? Which one?" Gia's voice was sweet as pie.

I looked at her and couldn't keep the scowl off of my face.

She seemed taken aback. “Cat got your tongue?" Gia asked, nervously. She couldn't understand that I was unable to respond to her. She couldn't understand that it was taking absolutely every inch of me not to leap over that table and strangle her.

"Trevion and I both go to shitty UNLV." Kim informed, "Let us know if you have any questions about how much it blows."

"Uuuuuuuuuum!"

Kim glanced at Steve, aghast, "You got something stuck in your throat, kid?" She nodded her head to the glass in front of him, "There's some water right there."

"He doesn't have anything in his throat. He has manners." Justin interjected.

"You said the 's' word!" Steven' pointed an accusatory finger at Kim.

"So?"

"That was very impolite."

"Okay, Dr. Phil. I'll try to watch my language from here on out." She said, darting her pretty blue eyes all around the table. I'd never seen her nervous until that moment. Apparently, she didn't do well around people who wouldn't let her be herself.

I think we all said a silent prayer of thanks when the salad was served by waiters dressed as different Disney characters.

Steven's eyes lit up. Justin smiled at him. I smiled at Justin. So did Lynn.

Kim looked suicidal as Winnie the Pooh served her a Caesar salad, "Am I the only one scared for my life?" She whispered.

"You're definitely not the only one." I picked up my fork and my eyes shot up to Justin. He was holding his fork above his untouched salad, staring at me.

The second I looked at him, he looked away. "What do you want to do tomorrow, Steve?" He asked.

"Go to Disneyland!"

Justin laughed, "Okay."

"Wait... Disneyland?" Kim looked around her, frantically, "You mean we're not there already?"

Lynn chuckled.

Justin scowled.

"Weren't you just at Disneyland the other day, Steve?" I asked, shoving salad in my mouth.

"Yes! It was awesome!"

"And you're ready to go again?!"

"YEAH!" He cried, as if it were obvious, "You should come, too, Trevie!"

Justin looked just as horrified by this suggestion as I did.

"I have been to Disneyland one time and that was one time too many."

"Amen." Gia called from her end of the table.

I frowned at her and noticed the way Justin smiled. My blood boiled.

"So you guys aren't big fans of UNLV?" Lynn asked around the lettuce in her mouth.

"Hell no." I spat.

"Uuuuuuuuum!"

I looked at Steve, "That's not a curse word, Steve."

"Yes it is." Justin scolded, giving me a look.

I frowned at him, then back at Steve, "It isn't a curse word if it's in the Bible. Didn't you know that?"

"Don't teach him that!" Justin called, and from the look on her face, Lynn agreed.

"You need to get your mouth washed with soap!" Steven beamed.

"What is this? Gang up on Trevion day?"

"I just wish you'd stop saying things like that when my little brother's in the room. For Christ’s sake, Trevion, he's six years old.""

So it's okay to say the lord's name in vain in front of him but it's not okay to curse?"

This time, Lynn agreed with me, and we both looked at Justin, expectantly. He appeared completely furious, "Don't contradict me in front of my family."

I chose to ignore him when the urge to bust his lip became too much. I turned to Steven, "Wow, Steve." I said, "You actually look... Halfway clean. Congratulations."

Steven took his eyes off of his salad and nodded. "That's because my brother tooked me a bath. He tooked me a bath because my booty itched."

Kim laughed out loud. So did Lynn.

I did not, "TMI, Steve. You and I are going to sit down and have a long chat about that, later."

"What's MTI?" He asked.

"TMI. Declaring that your booty itches is the perfect example of TMI. Too much, god damn, information."

Lynn giggled and Steven covered his mouth, "Uuuuuuuuuuum."

"Wouldn't that be T.M.G.D.I? Too much, god damn , information?"

"I don't think anybody asked you, Justin."

"He has a point." Gia tried to laugh her way in.

"And I know that nobody asked you." I raised my eyebrows at her, ready for battle.

She shrunk back.

"Don't mind her, Gia. She's so god damn bitter. That's S.G.D.B, Trevion. So god damn bitter."

"And you are god damn clever!" I spat. Gia eyes danced between us. She knew exactly what was going on but was putting on a damn good show pretending not to.

"Get over yourself, Justin." I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

"Get over myself?" He laughed, pointing the fork at his chest, "You're telling me to get over myself, Trevion?"

Worried eyes hit me from every corner of the table. Everybody but Kim and Gia was wondering what the hell they were witnessing.

"Are you deaf, Justin? I think that's what I just said." I tried to end it by going back to my salad, but he would have none of it.

"You've got a lot of fucking nerve coming here and telling me to get over myself."

"Ummmmmmm!"

Justin looked at his brother, "Shut up, Steve!"

"Don't tell him to shut up!" Lynn cried.

"Yeah!" Steve beamed.

"You invited me here!" I pointed to Justin, "I didn't invite myself. I'm here for Steven, so he can have a happy fucking birthday, okay? Not for you."

"Uuuuuuuuuuum!"

"God, shut up, kid." Kim grimaced.

"Don't tell him to shut up." I said to her, calmly.

"Of course you're not here for me." Justin said. "I've got a pretty good idea who's waiting for you back in Vegas."

My eyes widened, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Lynn's eyes narrowed from me to Justin, "What’s going on?" She finally asked.

"Is he even in Las Vegas right now, Trevion? Or did he grab a hotel room in Hollywood so you can go straight to him once you leave here? Please, feel free to go. Nobody's keeping you here."

"She can't left yet! The party didn't even started, yet!"

"Shut up, Steven!"

"Don't tell him to shut up!" I yelled, "And stop trying to piss me off with all of this JC bullshit. You know that I didn't do anything with him, Justin. You know it and you're an asshole for trying to make me feel badly about something I've already apologized profusely for!"

"Uuuuuuuum, Trevie!"

"This isn't appropriate lunch conversation." Lynn said, calmly.

Kim guffawed, "It's a little late for that."

"Maybe I should go." Gia went to stand up.

"Maybe you should!" I agreed.

She was stunned.

So was Justin, "No, Gia, don't go." He said throwing me a look.

Gia's eyes shot back and forth between the two of us as she sat back down.

"What's going on?" Lynn asked.

"Your son is an asshole." I answered. Kim snickered.

Lynn grinned, "I could have told you that, baby."

"She's been seeing JC..." He looked at me, "JC... behind my back since the moment we met."

"Oh..." Her eyes widened and then landed on me.

"Don't judge me." I frowned at her."

Don't talk to my mother like that." Justin warned.

"Don't tell me what to do!" I screamed.

"Don't yell at him!" Lynn beamed.

"This is my house, I'll tell you to do something if I fucking want to!"

"Dammit, you don't yell at her, either!" Lynn looked at Justin."

Stop cussing everybody!" Steven beamed.

"This kid is annoying." Kim commented.

"I'm going to excuse myself." Gia tried to stand.

"No!" WE all screamed.

She sat back down.

"It's funny that you're so pissed off at me about what happened with JC when you didn't hesitate for a second to get close to that tramp--" I pointed to Gia, "The second you were out of my sight.

"Nobody had anything to say after those words left my lips. Justin looked shocked. Lynn didn't. Gia was stunned. Kim was amused and Steven was probably waiting for another profanity to get thrown, so he could voice his issue with it.

"What did you just say?" Justin seethed.

"You heard me." I cringed at him, "and I'd be happy to elaborate... I'd be happy to let everyone at this table know exactly what you two were doing in your bedroom this morning... Exactly where her mouth was, but..." I sighed, "I'm one hundred percent sure that Steven is too young to hear it and even if he wasn't he would probably have an issue with it, anyway, so... Forget it."

"You were spying on me?" He slammed his fork down, "This is a brand new low, Trevion."

"Are you denying it?" I asked him. My eyes went to Gia, who was staring straight ahead, "You?" She looked at me, but didn't answer, "No? Good. You no longer have the right to be angry at me, Justin. Maybe I was talking to JC, but I never came anywhere close to doing what the two of you did with each other."

At this point, everyone at the table was staring down at their plates, trying to eat and pretending like what was going on wasn't actually going on.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Gia suddenly said. "Steven was in the room with us the entire time... We were watching cartoons."

"I was?" Steven cocked his head back.

I groaned.

"Don't lie." Kim glowered, shaking her head, "It's bad enough that you got caught doing what you did. You're a slut, that's obviously no secret to anyone at this table. Do you really want to add liar to that list?"

"Don't talk to her like that." Justin warned.

"Is she your new girlfriend now?" Kim asked, "I hope not."

"So what if she is?" His eyes shot to me, "I don't belong to anybody." Back to Kim, "Neither does she."

"Does she know you're in love with Trevion?"

His face fell.

"I hope so!" She cried, before bursting into laughter.

"Shut up." Just whispered.

"No?" Kim asked. She looked at Gia, "He's in love with Trevion. You're wasting your time."

"You shut the fuck up!" Justin pointed a fork at her.

"Uuuuuuuuuum!"

"You shut the fuck up!"

Kim screamed.

"Uuuuuuuuuum!"

Lynn jumped in, "Excuse yourself, Steven Timberlake."

That was all Steven needed to hear. I could only think that he was the luckiest bastard on the planet as he threw his napkin down and raced out of the dining room. Frankly, I think the kid was completely winded on censoring all of our asses.

Justin was riled up now, "Did you ever care about me? Did you give a damn about me, at all? What is this about, Trev? Are you secretly looking for a record deal? Because I would have gladly handed it over the second I met you if I had any idea what the fuck you were going to put me through."

My mouth was wide open at him, and I did nothing to hide it.

"Maybe you just wanted to fuck Justin Timberlake. You came surprisingly close. Closer than most women. Congratulations."

Again, mouth agape.

"Or maybe you're one of those fans who's has a life goal of fucking every member of Nsync. Lance loves the dick, so good luck with him." He laughed, "You have, however, fucked JC and, if you think about it, you've pretty much completely fucked me, emotionally. I'm pretty sure that counts. So, there's me. There's JC. That's two down, two to go, right?""And you tell me I don't have manners?" Kim laughed, "There were at least five or six fucks in that little rant of yours just now."

Justin stared at me, hard faced. I stared back.

"Hm..." Lynn seemed like she wanted to say something, but couldn't decide whether or not she should. I found this amusing. Everyone else at the table had stopped holding their tongues a long time ago.

"Look. Trevion." Justin sighed, "I scared the shit out of my little brother when I was screaming at you and JC back in Vegas. Honestly, if he asked me to lasso the fucking moon for him right now I would put in a call to NASA and see if there was anything they could do. He-- never in his life-- should have had to see me in the state that he saw me in last week. He asked for you. He said that he wanted you at his birthday... So I called you. That's it. That's the only reason you're here. Not to talk. Not to kiss and make up." He looked at me. "Just for Steven. Okay?"

"Wait..." Lynn held her hands out, "What happened with you, Trevion and JC and why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to wait until after Steve's birthday was over, but... That's gone to shit. I caught JC visiting her in her dorm room. I fucking... "

"Freaked out!" I offered.

He gave me a look, "I fucking freaked out. I screamed at her. I hit JC in the face. Steve saw the whole thing."