Second Thoughts
I think I'm in shock.
I saw her in front of me; looking slightly terrified, and I felt the wind brush against my cheeks. It was a gentle touch, but it shook me with its chill. I swallowed nothing and tried to lick my lips, but my tongue was dry. My mouth was dry. My brain was dry. I think it turned to dust because I can't even think. All I have is her words still ringing in my ears. The words that were never suppose to leave her mouth because they were never to be felt by her. Not for me anyway. It was suppose to be reserved for Shane and nobody else and now that they were directed at me, I didn't know what to do.
I thought I'd be completely elated when she finally said what I've dreamt about since the moment I kissed her and knew she was the one. I thought it would be okay and we could have our happily ever after, but now... now in the moment of its wake, I feel... numb. I feel like it's been said and now... what? Now what? Where do I go? What does it now mean for us? Is it really as important as I thought it was?
My heart fluttered in my chest with a nervous, cautious, and joyful feeling that left my stomach in a confused mushy mess that I couldn't really put my finger on. I looked over her shoulder when the defensive barks of dogs ran out across my gravel lot. She was standing there, waiting for me to say something that I had no idea how to say and I felt guilty.
This is what I've been pressuring her to do and say and feel and now that she's done it, I have nothing to say or do or feel. I tried to speak, but my mouth stood agape and her eyes widened slightly with a mix of worry and tears and a hint of regret.
"I'm sorry..." she began to apologize, "I just... I just thought I'd tell you..." She stepped down from where she stood on the steps in slow, backward motions, her eyes looking everywhere but mine in embarrassment. "I guess I'll just leave now..."
"Oh..." I mumbled dumbly as she quickly reached the last stair and turned away from me, heading toward her pile of luggage. She only two feet away before I realized she was packed quite heavily for an overnight stay and the question of where she was going came to my mind. "Wait!" She haulted, somewhat shocked by my too loud tone and turned around slowly; gravel rocks crunching underneath her sneaker clad feet. "Where... where are you going?" Her brows furrowed before I nodded toward her bags up hill.
"Oh..." she smiled briefly before faking a laugh, "That's... that's to be figured out." I walked down a stair and furrowed my brows now.
"What do you mean?" I asked, rubbing my arms as goosebumps covered my skin.
"I, uh, well..." she stammered, looking at her toes, "I'm kinda assed-out." She laughed drily and glanced over her shoulder at her luggage. "Yeah... that's... that's what I am."
"Aren't you staying with Nicole?" I inquired, "Did something happen to Nicole?" My arms crossed over my chest as I felt a bit of panic arise in my gut. I didn't want anything to bad to come and slap me in the face again. I would feel a million times guiltier of something happened to Nicole during our post-break up. That woman didn't deserve anything. She was caught in the crossfire of Teresa and I and that was not her fault in the least.
"Justin," Teresa said with a weight that made my own heart heavy. I could see her choking back a sob as her eyes glazed over.
"What?" I asked, my impatience and worry getting the best of me as she paused for a moment too long, "What is it? What happened?"
"Look, Nicole and I aren't... speaking any more," she sniffled as she wiped her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand. "Apparently honesty is the best policy with the worst results." She hugged herself as another breeze went by, tossing the loose strains of hair around her face. She looked down and I cleared my throat.
"So... you told her?" I tried to clarify so I could confirm what I was up against. She nodded.
"I'm sorry, but I had to," she explained, "I just... It felt so heavy and I felt like I was faking our entire friendship and I..." She trailed off, allowing her sob to finally escape her throat. I groaned when I felt the guilt double in my stomach. This was partially my fault and as much as I shouldn't care, I can't help but feel bad for the sobbing mess in front of me.
"Don't apologize," I told her softly, "C'mere." She looked at me and her bottom lip quivered.
"What?" she asked as if she were surprised. I opened my arms to her and wiggled my fingers.
"Just... c'mere." My heart was pounding as she walked slowly toward me and climbed up to the stair I was on. I backed up a bit to give her room as she scooted up to me. Her cheek was cold against the skin that was exposed by the scoop neck of my beater, but she quickly warmed me as she hugged me tightly. I sighed and she trembled and I found myself slipping back before I quickly pulled myself back together.
"I'm so sorry," she mumbled against my skin.
"It's... it's not fine, but we're not gonna talk about that," I said firmly, "I'm letting you stay here in one of the guest rooms, but this isn't what I think you think this is. We're not even friends right now, Teresa. I'm just helping you out because you're in need." I felt her nod against my chest and I glanced up at the blackest blue sky, illuminated by the half moon shining. I asked the Lord to tell me why I was doing this, but the answer was still as clear as it was the first time I asked the same question so many years ago.
I love her. As a friend and as a lover, my heart still lied in her hands and it angered me. Now this. Now she's here and I'm helping her out when I should leave her out on her ass; where she belonged.
"Okay," I said, pealing her off of me. "Go inside and help yourself if you're hungry or something." She nodded and turned to walk inside before pausing.
"But I-"
"It's okay," I said, already knowing she was going to say something about her bags, "I've got the luggage." She nodded again, looking me in my eyes a moment too long, making me turn away and jog toward her pile of suitcases. I rolled my eyes when I glanced over my shoulder and saw her slip into the open door. I groaned as I focused my attention back on her stuff lying on the ground. I bent over and picked them all up, my feet starting to hurt from all the gravel.
"Sweet Jesus," I mumbled to the blackened sky as I dragged myself toward the house, "Give me strength."
--------------------------
I was sitting on the couch when I heard the door close and listened to Justin as he struggled to lock it behind him. I paused, but soon got up and walked over to the foyer. Justin finally relented and dropped a bag with a thud to free his hand and lock the door. His back was to me the entire time and when he finally turned and grabbed my recently dropped bag from the ground, he didn't look too pleased to see I was there.
"Could you pack a little lighter?" he quipped as I walked over and took two bags from his busy hands. My hands brushed his and I swore we both stopped breathing for a moment. I glanced up at him and took my bags before backing up into the living room. He followed suit in silence before excusing himself as he brushed past me. He headed up the stairs and I trailed behind him. When he reached the top, he paused, almost causing me to crash into his back.
"What?" I asked and got no response. He started to walk up the hall toward his bedroom before turning around sharply. I haulted my movements as he stood in front of me. His chest was so close to my face that my nose was practically brushing again the fabric of his beater.
"You're sleeping in the guest room," he informed the top of my head before I backed up a little. I felt some disappointment, but wasn't necessarily surprised.
"Okay," I replied before he turned back around and turned right up a little hall that lead to the guest room a few doors from his. He used his elbow to flip on the light switch, revealing the all beige, hotel-like room. He placed my bags on the carpeted floor and glanced around the room.
"T.V., movies, Playstation, bed..." He pointed as rubbed his hands together as he trailed off, "You know where and what everything is, so... I guess you can make yourself at home." I nodded and walked over to the full sized bed, sitting on its edge.
"Thank you," I said as sincerely as possible. He bit his bottom lip and nodded his welcome before turning to leave the room. "Justin?"
"Yeah?" he spoke, not turning around to face me. I frowned at his back and wondered how I could push him enough to make him uncomfortable around me after so many years.
"I just..." I slowly muttered, "If it's any consolation, she hates me more than you and I put it all on me..." There was a long pause before he walked out into the hall and went to pull the door behind him.
"Goodnight," he called before shutting the door. It echoed off the empty walls and I looked down at my lap.
"'Night." My words only met my ears and I fought off the lonliness that was beginning to overwhelm me. My stomach was aching as my eyes welled up with tears. I sighed and tried to push them back as I stood from the bed and went over to my luggage. I didn't know how comfortable or at home I should make myself feel because I wasn't too sure of how long Justin wanted me here, if he wanted me here at all.
I figured I'd just live right out of my suitcases in case I do something to fuck up this moment of kindness and get kicked out on my ass again. It'll be easier to leave if I'm already packed I thought to myself as I dug through my terribly stuffed clothes. Everything was wrinkled and terrible looking, but I didn't care. I just wanted pajamas so I could sleep. I was so exhausted that I didn't notice until I sat on the bed. But I would've stayed up if Justin asked me to though. A huge part of me wanted him to just talk to me. About anything really, as long as I got to hear his voice.
But I knew his kindness could only stretch so far, so I didn't say anything to make him stay. He wanted his space and I needed a place to live, so I had no choice but to respect his wishes for now. But I knew me. I knew I couldn't live in awkward silence, but I couldn't take the noise of screams and anger and tears either. I've had my fair share of that tonight; shit, I had more than enough of it in my life, so I could go without it.
I plopped down on the floor and grimaced when a pain shot through my forehead. The pounding of my temples soon followed and I groaned. A headache is just the cherry on top of the bullshit. I got up from the floor and tossed my PJs on the mattress before heading out of the door. I walked down to the guest bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet above the sink. I didn't even try to catch my reflection in the mirror while doing so because I knew I looked insane and I wasn't in the mood for a staring contest and a session of 'you suck, Teresa'.
"Motherfucker..." I grumbled when the Tylenol bottle was empty. I should've known. I didn't deserve to get rid of this headache. I had to suffer as much as possible. I dragged my sorry ass out of the bathroom and down the hall. Right before I turned into my room, I noticed Justin's light was on through a crack beneath his door. I paused. My head was pounding and I knew he always has Excedrin nearby...
My feet were walking before I was done thinking and I found myself at his door. For a moment I couldn't bring myself to knock, but my head couldn't take it. My fist lightly tapped before going back to my side. I could hear the volume of the televion lowering and the bed creaking. My heart fluttered as I paced myself for his presence.
The door swung open and he stood in a white t-shirt now. It was fitted and he was gorgeous in his simplistic clothing. Got damn it.
"My head hurts," I blurted out and he looked me over before turning around silently and walking back into his room. I stuck my head in the open door and watched as he slauntered into his bathroom. The light turned on and there was shuffling and the water ran before turning off. When he reappeared, he switched out the light and came toward me with a small glass of water. He opened up his palm and two white pills were seen. They looked so small in his hands when I took them and popped them in my mouth. He handed me the water and I drank it all before he took the glass back.
"Is that all?" he asked, a bit annoyed and a bit concerned.
I nodded. "Yeah... thanks."
"There's more medicine in the nightstand by your bed if you need anything else," he stated, "My mom even put some feminine shit down there if you need it." I laughed lightly.
"It's like she knew I was coming," I smirked.
"No," he said, completely unamused, "You're not the only female who stays here. She was just being prepared."
"Oh..." I said dumbly, "I know, I was just... joking, I guess."
"Yeah," he said before falling silent again.
"Well, thanks and goodnight," I said quickly before turning away and walking down the hall. His door shut behind me and I let out the breath I had been holding.
Yeah...just like that. Yeah. Four letters and I'm embarrassed, speechless, and confused. But then again, love is a four letter word and that didn't go to well for me either. Come to think of it, fuck is a four letter word too. And if I didn't fuck Justin while I was fuckin' Shane none of this shit (another four letter word) would've happened.
"Damn," I mumbled as I walked into my guest room. I smiled to myself sadly when I realized 'damn' was another four letter word. I climbed into bed. It creaked and squeaked beneath my weight and I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling. The lamp at my bedside illuminated the room before I reached over and turned it off, no longer able to bear the knowledge that this room was not his room, which I was used to sleeping in.
Now I'm just a guest.
I wasn't really expecting more, but I've become accustom to more when it came to Justin. This less thing was nawing it my nerves. Less respect. Less attraction. Less tolerance for my bullshit. Less talking. Less love... Yes, love. I had actually told him I loved him and he stared at me as if I just explained I had been abducted by aliens. It was a shocked, curious, excited, but frightful look that I didn't know how to feel about. Was it good or bad or nothing?
I groaned and covered my face in my hands, knowing that this was going to be an all nighter.
-------------------------------
I tapped the tips of my left hand fingers on the marbel counter top of my kitchen as I idly sipped on my morning coffee while sitting on my wooden stool. My eyes were focused on the stone bowl in Trace's hands; green and speckles with spots of greys and browns. He was expertly beating eggs for the omlets he was preparing us to eat. The bowl was slightly tilted in his hands as he wisked them quickly with a silver fork; whipping the bright yellow and causing small bubbles to form around the edges.
A glint on the fork caused me to blink before I turned and looked over my shoulder at the bright sun that was shining through the wide sliding doors that lead to my backyard and pool. I could see my dogs jumping about in the green, freshly cut grass without a care and it made me smile before I realized that I wanted to trade places with them. I wanted to have the responsibility of nothing but looking cute and doing some tricks for a treat... Come to think of it, I spent a better part of my life doing just that as the 'cute one' in 'Nsync.
This only made me frown more.
"So..." Trace's low tone caused me to turn my attention back to his stout form. He poured the yellow beaten yolks over the saulteed onions and peppers and cubes of ham he already had in the skillet. The connection between them caused crackles and an aroma so delicious that I almost drooled.
"That smells good," I commented, smirking as I leaned over the counter to get a better look. "Why can't I cook like that?" Trace shrugged.
"Because you suck?" he suggested jokingly and I smiled.
"That must be it."
"Word," he finalized, "But at any rate, answer the question."
"There was a question?" I asked confused.
"Yes," he irritatedly replied, "So what's happening?"
"I don't know," I said, "Depends on what you're talking about." He gave me the most bored expression as he dug through my drawers for a spacula.
"I'm talking about the stupid skank upstairs," he clarified and I grimaced.
"Trace, please," I reprimanded.
"I'm amazed you still do that," he smiled sadly as he shook his head. "All the bullshit and I still can't call her skank without a slap on the wrist."
"Dude, just... call her by her name," I said before he went to open his mouth with a smart ass response. I quickly stopped him by adding, "Which is Teresa!"
"Whatever," he pouted, "How long is she staying here?" I pondered for a moment before relenting.
"I dunno," I mumbled.
"Well, she can't stay here forever, man," Trace said, "You have to have some idea about when she's leaving."
"Trace, for the love of God," I whined, "She came here last night. I haven't even had time to fully digest my dinner yet."
"Well you can't have her lolligaggin' around here thinking this is permanent," he stated firmly. "She has to know that this is different."
"She does know," I argued back, "She's in the guestroom."
"Yeah, tonight," Trace dismissed, "Whose to say what's gonna happen tonight?"
"I'm to say," I replied, "And I say she's staying in the guestroom until..."
"Until what?" Trace asked, "Until she gets a little frisky and starts sleeping in your bed?"
"Why are you being such a douchebag, Trace?" I snapped, haulting my sipping and tapping and happiness as I stared at the side of his face as he flipped the eggs over.
"Because you'e weak whenever she's around you," Trace said calmly, "And I don't want you to get hurt again after all that shit she's already done."
"I'm not gonna get hurt," I grumbled, "And I'm not weak."
"You love her," Trace said. I shrugged.
"I don't even know if that matters right now," I said, "I mean, don't get me wrong, when I saw her all pathetic and shit yesterday, it was there, but it feels... different. I don't know."
"What?" Trace asked, "You don't think you're in love with her anymore?" I opened my mouth to answer, but it simply opened and closed for a moment as I tried to gather my words.
"I-" I snapped my mouth shut when the pattering of feet caught both Trace's and mine attention. We looked at the entrance to the kitchen and watched as Teresa cautiously walked in.
"Morning," she greeted shyly, not bothering to look up from the tile floor as she stood at the door and held her hands together.
"Morning," I replied in a monotone as Trace continued to cook like he hadn't heard a word she said.
"That smells good," Teresa commented as she stepped futher into the kitchen and daringly looking at me with a small smile. I nodded in agreement.
"Trace learned how to cook sometime without me and is now a master chef."
"Oh, well that's cool," she said, "Y'all could've woken me up. I would've made breakfast." Trace snorted as he grabbed a plate from the dish holder. Teresa frowned. "It would've been the least I could do... with me staying here and all."
"Staying?" Trace questioned as he whipped his head around to shot her a disbelieving look. "I hope you don't think you and Jay are roomies now."
"Trace," I grumbled.
"I mean really," he baggered on, "You had enough nerve showing your face around here and now you're talking about 'staying'?"
"I didn't mean I was moving in," Teresa clarified, "I just meant for now."
"And how long is this 'now' gonna last?" Trace inquired. I sighed.
"I...I don't know," Teresa stammered, looking over at me with the saddest glimmer in her eyes. "I mean, I'm trying to find some place else to crash 'cause I know that I shouldn't be here... I just didn't have anywhere else to go."
"You are so full of it," Trace said, turning back to the plates he was preparing for him and I.
"You don't even know me," Teresa mumbled.
"I know enough," Trace replied, "And the least you can do while you're staying here is find some place else to stay; fast. And never offer to make breakfast again 'cause we all know what happened the last time you did that."
"Trace." My firm tone caused him to look at me.
"I'm just stating facts," he defended.
"You're being an asshole."
"Nobody asked you, bitch," Trace said, snapping his head in the direction of Teresa's sharp voice.
"Fuck you," she countered before Trace laughed.
"I'll pass," Trace smiled mockingly, "I don't do sluts." My palm connected with the counter top with a loud WHACK, 'causing them both to look at me.
"Trace, I told you stop," I said, "And Teresa, you need to get out as soon as possible. And both of you just need to shut the fuck up and not talk to each other for however long you're here."
"Whatever," they mumbled before Teresa grabbed an orange juice drink from the fridge and walked out of the kitchen and Trace finished up the last of the toasted bread. He practically threw my breakfast at me before stalking over to the kitchen table. His chair squeaked against the floor when he pulled it out and it squeaked again when he plotted down like an ill-mannered child who had just gotten in trouble. I shook my head and turned back to my food.
I couldn't even eat it. All I saw was myself tossing it at the back of Teresa's head and watching her shrink down to the smallest size she could be. My chest tightened as guilt overwhelmed me. I was trying to act like I was doing her a favor by letting her stay, but a large part of me wanted to make up for that morning. Even though it was not necessarily my fault, I was a little brass. I scared myself in the moment, so I can't even imagine how she must've felt.
And after all that, she still felt like this was the safest place for her to go. It made me terribly sad for her, but at the same time I was so deeply confused. She had told me she loved me. Right in my eyes she looked at me and said she loved me and all I wanted to say was 'what?'.
What. Yes, what. What the hell do you mean you love me? I almost killed her because she said that she didn't love me at all just a little while before and now... now she loves me? I couldn't tell if she had just lied for whatever reason or if I had distance myself so far from the idea of her actually loving me back that I made it almost impossible to believe that she did.
"Justin?" Trace's low and reluctant tone told me exactly what he was calling me to do, but I sighed and replied anyway.
"Yes, Trace?" I inquired in a slightly mocking tone that I could tell he picked up on when he hesitated to speak again.
"I'm sorry," he apologized in almost a whisper.
"What?" I asked, pretending to strain my hearing by cupping my ear.
"I said that I'm sorry," he grumbled, "Douche."
"Well, you're forgiven," I told him before quickly adding. "Asshole." He chuckled lightly before I found myself smiling.
"You're gonna let me eat at this table all by my lonesome?" I turned in my stool and he tilted his head and batted his lashes causing me to laugh.
"You're so gay," I commented before climbing out of my seat and grabbing my plate. I headed over to the table as Trace sat back and smiled.
"You want this," he said with comedic confidence and I raised a brow as I took a seat across from him.
"The only thing I want is for this to stop," I smirked. He reached over and grabbed a cube of ham from my plate before popping it into his mouth.
"Okay, I'm done now," he assured before grabbing the pepper grinder in the center of the table, "But yeah... I'm not really sorry about saying what I said to Teresa."
"I know," I said, "But it was kinda harsh."
"Truth hurts," Trace simply replied.
"She's not a bitch though," I defended, "Dude, she's a decent woman who does dumb shit."
"She's a whore."
"She's only been with me and that Shane guy," I told him.
"Yeah, that's what she said..." I went to say something back, but I had nothing to say. I did only take her word for it, so she could've very well have been with other men. My body tensed up as I began to feel dirty.
"Can we drop this topic?" I asked, picking at my omlet.
"Of course," Trace said, "But please don't push around your food. You'll ruin it." I paused and looked at him with a small smirk.
"Okay, Mom," I joked before I cut a piece of my omlet with my fork and scooped it into my mouth. It was as good as it smelled and I felt all warm inside.
"Good?" Trace inquired and I nodded my approval. We ate in silence before finishing up and clearing the table. Trace did the dishes and I thanked him before I jogged upstairs and up the hall. My stomach filled with nervous butterflies as I heard some shifting in the guest room up the hall. I walked up closer to the room and tried to regain my composure. I could see the door was cracked open a bit as I inched up closer. I knocked lightly and she gave me permission to come in.
I almost broke my neck turning away as Teresa pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her topless. I faced the wall and stomped my foot down angrily.
"Teresa, if you were changing you should've said something." I rolled my eyes to the heavens and she snorted.
"You've seen me naked before," she said nonchalantly, "I didn't know it was a big deal."
"What if I were Trace?" I inquired, "You didn't even bother asking who it was."
"Because Trace hates me and would've snuck in and killed me instead of knocked," she explained calmly, "And you can turn around now."
"Are you decent?" I inquired wearily as I turned slowly.
"Yes, I'm decent." I turned and she was pulling a shirt over her bra covered top and I sighed a breath of relief.
"Look, I just... I wanted to apologize for Trace," I said, "He's just looking out for me, ya know?" Teresa looked down at her hands and nodded.
"I guess if I were your best friend, I'd be the same way toward me," she confessed, "What I did was in the category of whores."
"You're not a whore," I reassured, "I don't even know why he talks like that. I've never said anything bad about you." She smiled softly.
"You're too nice, that's why," she told me, "You were thinking it though."
I shook my head. "No...never." And I realized it was true. As dirty as she was with me, I never thought to call her a whore. I was mostly disappointed that she wouldn't step up to the plate and be the woman I knew she could be. The woman for me. The strong woman who thought better of herself.
"Right..." she said disbelievingly, "But thanks for the apology and I'm sorry for even trying to argue back with him. I should know better by now. It's just a losing battle that upsets you and I don't want to cause anymore damage then I already have." I just nodded, unable to formulate words before backing up towards the door again.
"Okay, I'm gonna be in the gym, so... If you need me just...ya know." She nodded and I stepped out her door, pulling it closed behind me. My hand rested on the knob as I paused and stared at the floor. I felt that familiar tugging at my heart and I closed my eyes as my love for her flowed deeper into me. I realized that I didn't want her to move out as quickly as possible. I didn't want her sleeping in this room across the hall. I didn't want to walk into a room with her half naked and have to turn away instead of reaching out and touching her...
"Yo, Jay," Trace's voiced blared as he appeared at the top of the stairs. "Wanna play some ball?" My hands dropped from the knob and I bit my tongue, unable to tell Trace what I had started to feel. He would've dragged Teresa out kicking and screaming if he knew I was having second thoughts.
"Sure, man," I smiled, "Lets get that ass of yours whipped." He laughed sarcastically.
"We'll see about that," he snorted and I frowned.
Yeah, we'll see about that...
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry. I've fallen off the face of the planet. I blame my job and school. By the time I'm done deciphering spanish and math equations, I'm pooped. Sorry! Update tho! Title sucks and so does the chapter, but its moving it along. =] kk, read!
Incomplete
Timberlake is the author of 27 other stories.
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