Los Angeles
Two Months Later….

Amanda walked the area between the white sectional sofas one more time before walking to the window once again. That had been her pattern for almost two hours as she waited. Her patience was running thin and she’d wanted to forget the waiting game and call, about three times in two hours' time.

She hadn’t seen or talked to him in four weeks and before that she hadn’t seen him since the album was finished. From the day her album was finished, her life had literally gone into a tailspin. She’d shot her first single’s video the following day, with no preparations. Johnny had been by her side the entire time, guiding her in areas where she needed to be. Trace had been there for the ride the entire time, as well, putting up with her mood swings and her nervous fits.

When she’d decided to give in and record an album, she hadn’t thought that she would be nervous to embark in her promotional tour because she knew she’d always have the unconditional support of her best friends. She didn’t think that she’d be embarking on a promotional tour without one of them and without him, she was a mess. She needed him and was hurt that he wasn’t around. Of course, she knew, Trace filled him in on everything that was going on, as her manager and as his best friend.

Trace would sneak out of the hotel suite in New York and she always knew that he was on the phone with Justin when he did. She tried to act as if everything was normal and while Trace and herself were getting along, she knew that things were a bit strained. It was uncomfortable for Trace to speak of him or mention that Justin wanted her to do this or that, as her manager and she knew it. The amount of time that she’d spent in New York, promoting her album was the longest they’d been apart. It was hard on Trace and it was especially hard on Amanda. She missed Justin incredibly even if she acted as if she didn’t and even though she’d spend two weeks in the studio with Justin, it had been strictly music related. They weren’t on friendly terms when she left.

She would go into the studio everyday, Justin and Trace would be waiting for her with a hot cup of tea being extended to her by Trace. The other stradlers, including Danja, Marty and Pharell, that came in the studio while they recorded kept all three of their minds from each other. It had only served one purpose, though, and that was just pushing the simmering pot to the backburner. Eventually the pot would start boiling and a bigger mess would unfold.

The mess came when her cousin had helped open her eyes. He’d start reminiscing about their childhood. Reminding her of all that she’d gone through with her father and especially reminding her that Justin had been there, every time. He’d pointed out times where both, Amanda and Justin, were his life. And how much Justin loved both of them when he could have left them behind when he became famous. He’d tell her how she never looked at Jeremy the same way she looked at Justin, and that she needed to open her eyes and most importantly her heart. He’d say those things to her and leave her to her own misery, alone in her hotel suite. Crying.

She’d gotten into Los Angeles three hours earlier and instead of having Johnny drop her off at her hotel, she’d come home. The last time she’d seen Trace had been two days prior, when he’d gone home to see Elisha. She was sure; he’d filled Justin in on how miserable she’d been without him. How miserable she still felt.

The limo driver had all her bags out of the car and just inside the door before she’d said goodbye to Johnny. She’d promised to call him in a week and he’d promised to not schedule any more interviews for another month. She’d done what was required of her by Jive, now she had to sit back and watch her album grow or flop. She was confident that the latter wouldn’t occur, not because she knew she was good. But because of the name attached to it, it would create a buzz and while she was grateful for his voluntary work, she didn’t really care one way or the other. She wasn’t as happy as she should be and the reason for her unhappiness was apparently out somewhere.

She’d walked in to an empty house. The lights had been turned very low and surprisingly her album played very softly throughout the house. Hearing the music coming from the surround sound throughout the house, she’d expected Justin to be lying on the sofa in the playroom, where the system was.  Instead, she found all the light off in that room as well. She’d heard enough of her album the past two months and decided that she wasn’t in the mood to hear it again. Touching the screen to the system, making it come alive with bright lights in the darkened room; she opted to play something else. The beginning chords to Like I Love You made her smile before she slowly walked out of the room.

She’d walked back to the white family room and while she knew every picture in that room by heart, she’d been curious. Walking around the room looking at the pictures that decorated the walls, tabletops and chimney mantle, she’d smiled, chuckled to herself, and shed a tear or two.

She’d smiled at the picture of three four year olds in a kiddie pool. She was amazed that she could remember that day. She knew it was probably her imagination going wild, but she remembered every waking moment she’d spent with her two boys. Even back then, when she was a kid, she believed her cousin was her heart, helping her through everything, through life. And Justin, he’d been both, her heart and soul. She’d always known, and she’d always kept those thoughts inside of her. They were her life.

The picture of her and Trace dressed as the all mighty Justin Timberlake for Halloween had made her chuckle. Justin had been petrified and embarrassed hadn’t been the word to describe him that night. Amanda and Trace had shown up at Johnny’s compound wearing big curly wigs under bandanas. She’d opted to dress in his No Strings Attached tour outfit while Trace had gone for the Bye Bye Bye video outfit. Everyone had loved their idea and they’d won for best costume. Next to that picture was another of Justin and Britney, the only one remaining of them in the house, at the same party. She hadn’t paid close attention to the picture until then, realizing that behind Justin and Britney as they posed for the camera, were she, Jeremy and Trace laughing at a nearby table. It was a good picture and she realized why it was still up on display. Her homeboy had been too cool for the dressing up idea and had managed to slip into the party as himself, making all three of them look somewhat odd. Britney had been the princess of the ball and she had been beautiful.

She’d missed Britney and when she looked at that picture of them, she felt for the first time, guilty. The picture made her think back to the conversation she had with Justin, when he’d told her that she’d cheated on him. The first tears had slipped from her eyes then. She knew in her heart that Britney hadn’t cheated, she knew her just as well as Justin did, and she wouldn’t have done that. She just wouldn’t have, Britney loved him and that fact, made her realize that it had been Justin who had done the cheating. Not physically, she knew, but she believed the cause of their break-up had something to do with her. It saddened her.

The second set of tears came after a few more smiles when she locked her eyes on a picture of her with Justin. It had been taken by Trace during the after-party for the Grammys when he’d won his two. He hadn’t been as proud as he should have been because of the Janet Jackson situation that year but Amanda had been proud of him that night enough for both of them. Trace had taken the picture unexpectently with his phone and she had been laughing at something Justin had said. She remembered having had his undivided attention the entire night and hadn’t given much thought to it until she glanced at the picture. The look on Justin’s face spoke volumes. While she tried to ignore it in the past, she heard it loud and clear then. She’d placed the picture on the large coffee table and had stared at it for half an hour before she started to pace the floor. Cry Me A River played the third time around as she stared out the window.

She must have missed his car pull into one of the garages in the process of looking out the window and pacing because she heard the garage door leading to the house open and close. Turning where she stood, by the window facing the front of the house, she waited for him to walk past the family room.

“Trace!” she heard him yell out from down the hall. She knew he must have been placing his golf clubs in the closet. “What the fuck are you playing this for?!”

She rolled her eyes at his modesty and shook her head at the fact that he never liked listening to himself in his own house. A stupid rule that she never understood.

“Trace!” he yelled again as he walked past the family room, where she stood quietly, obviously missing her, and went into the kitchen.

“Trace!” he yelled once again and it was obvious he was getting irritated. His face looked thin and she wondered if he’d eaten anything at all since she’d been gone. After drinking directly from an orange juice carton in the fridge he started walking toward the family room, wiping droplets of juice from his golfing sweater. His head was down as he entered the room and she stood back watching him. The first thing he saw when he looked up was the picture frame she’d placed on the coffee table and a frown appeared on his face, making her almost cry. Maybe she was too late; maybe he’d given up. He grabbed the picture frame from the table and finally looked around the room.

She saw the look of shock that washed over his face when he saw her at the other end of the large family room, and then he looked at the picture in his hand again. “Did you come for the rest of your things?” he asked in a barely audible voice as he placed the picture back on the mantle.

“It’s a beautiful picture,” Amanda said from where she still stood, her back against the wall. She didn’t bother wiping the lone tear that came from her eye. Her emotions were running on high and she couldn’t remember ever being that happy to see him. So happy and excited that it made her cry.

“All of our pictures were beautiful, Jo,” Justin said as he stood by the large screen television on the far side of the room.

“Were?” she asked and prayed to God that he wasn’t speaking in past tense.

“Yes, were. Now they are…” he stopped his words to look up at her. He looked worn and sad as he spoke. “Now they’re just pictures.”

“Tell me where the name Jojo came from?” she asked and slowly walked to the back of the sectional sofa in the middle of the room.

“What?” he asked shocked, looking at her briefly and retuning his gaze outside the window by the television.

“Why do you call me Jojo?” she asked again and by the time she walked around to sit on the sofa the tears spilled freely from her eyes. “Tell me.”

“Why Amanda? What’s the purpose?” he asked and the fact that he called her by her name made her cringe.

“Please tell me, homeboy,” she asked with a sniffle.

Justin looked at her when she called him that and after a few seconds he walked back to the mantle grabbing the picture of him and Britney. Walking over to her, he handed her the picture frame and she looked up at him after glancing at the picture. She wasn’t sure at what she was supposed to be looking. “What am I looking at?”

“How about this one?” he asked grabbing another picture frame from one of the end tables. The picture was an old one; they were about nine years old. Justin and Trace were to the right of the picture; Trace’s arms over Justin’s shoulder while he stood on tip toes to do it. That made her smile and on the left of the picture she stood there with Jeremy’s hand on her shoulder. Four kids, posing for a picture, all with big grins on their faces except Justin. Little Justin was caught looking to his right with a sad expression on his face.  “That’s where it came from.”

“I don’t understand,” Amanda said with a wrinkled brow as she looked up at his standing figure over her. The only two similarities in the pictures were Jeremy and Trace. “What does Jojo have to do with Trace and Jeremy?”

“Not Trace,” Justin said sitting on the sofa to the side of her. “Jeremy.”

“Justin, what are you saying?” she asked putting the pictures on the large coffee table across from her. “What does Jeremy have to do with it?”

“Why are you asking me these questions, Jo? What do you want?”

“I want you to tell me why you’ve been calling me Jojo my entire life. I want to know what it means,” she said wiping the tears from her eyes. “Tell me, Justin.”

“Jesus, I swore I would never tell anyone,” Justin said covering his face and leaning his head against the sofa’s headrest. “I’ve never told anyone. Not momma. Not even Trace, Jo.”

“I won’t tell. I swear,” Amanda said looking at him. “Trust me.”

“Trust you?” he asked with a chuckle that wasn’t quite honest. The words were obviously a joke coming from her, she could tell. “I did trust you. I trusted you more than anyone.”

“You don’t trust me anymore, Justin?” Amanda asked and her heart cracked at the admission.

“I don’t know,” Justin said with a shrug. “I would but…I don’t know, Jo. You have really outdone yourself this time. You turned your back on me.”

“I know, I know I did,” she kept her eyes on him as she spoke, watching his lips with every word. “What does it mean Justin?”

“You’re beginning to be as annoying as Trace, Jo!” He said standing to walk toward his earlier spot, by the television. “It means I’ve always been ‘Jealous Of Jeremy Owens’, there it is, there’s the big secret. Jesus, I can’t believe I said that out loud!”

“You were jealous? Of what?” Amanda asked standing across from him.

“I’m not repeating it so you can forget it,” Justin said looking out the window. “What are you doing here? You have an interview scheduled today in New York,” he was speaking to her in a business manner and she wanted to cry out that it was her, his homegirl; he didn’t need to speak to her that way.

“I had Johnny cancel it,” she said looking up at him. “I wanted to come home.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you want to come home? You had Trace and Johnny with you. You had what you needed, Jo. That’s what you said, right? You only wanted Trace and Johnny to come along. Right?” he sounded hurt and a bit angry when he spoke and she turned her eyes toward her shoes.

“I was wrong,” she mumbled.

“What?” he asked.

“I was wrong,” Amanda said again. “I needed you. I missed you.”

“You missed me? How could you say that, Jo? You didn’t pick up the phone once, not once. You barely spoke to me while we were in the studio let alone look at me. You left me, Jo. You left me not as the man that loved you but as your best friend. You left!”

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I was confused, Justin. I was angry and hurt and terrified. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to feel, period. My best friend suddenly decides that he loves me? What could I do?”

“Suddenly?!” Justin’s voice raised a few notches as he stormed to the other side of the room. “It wasn’t suddenly, Jo! I loved you for as long as I can remember. We were nine in that picture! Nine! How could you say suddenly?”

“I’m sorry,” she cried again.

“Why do you keep apologizing? That’s not what I want to hear, Jo. I want to hear you say that it’s okay. I don’t even want to hear that you feel the same way; all I want is my best friend. But she packed herself up and left without a fucking word! That’s what I’M sorry about!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt. I’m sorry you feel like I left you, Justin, I really am. I was a mess, please understand, I was confused.”

“Confused about what? I was pretty clear with what I said. We’ve never had a problem understanding each other, Jo. We’ve always been able to just look into each other’s eyes and just know. How can I make it clearer? I don’t want you to tell me that you’re in love with me, Jo. I just need you to tell me that I didn’t loose my best friend. Tell me that our lives together, as friends, didn’t end when you left L.A., two months ago. Tell me that you leaving me was just a lapse in judgment.”

“I do love you,” she said looking up at him. “You know that.”

“Then why would you say the things you’ve said to a friend you love? Why treat your friends that way?”

“You don’t understand,” she said wiping at tears from her face.

“I think I do understand. You can love me as your best friend but when the tables are turned and I love you more than that, it’s wrong? Right? Is that what you’re going to say?”

“Jesus Christ, Justin!” she says raising her voice. “Shut the fuck up for a minute!”

“Why are you yelling?!” he yelled back.

“You’ve been yelling and talking for the past five fucking minutes! God, you’re so annoying! I can’t believe I’m in love with that I must be a complete fucking idiot!” she said covering her face with both hands.

“I haven’t been yelling! Now I’m yelling! And wait…what?” Justin asked looking at her, eyes bugging out of his head in shock. “What did you say?”

“You fucking heard me,” she mumbled from inside her own hands that still covered her face.

“Did you just call yourself a fucking idiot for being in love with me?” Justin asked and she could tell that he had his signature smirk on his face.

“Wipe the fucking smirk off your face, Timberlake.”

“What? What smirk? What are you talking about? Are you talking about being in love with me? Because that’s what I heard. You said you must be a com…..”

“I know what I said!” she said removing her hands from her face and looking up at him, with a shy smile.

“Say it again, Jo,” Justin said as he placed both his hands on either side of her head to lean over her on the sofa without contact.  “You can leave the can’t believe and fucking idiot out, completely optional, but I would prefer is you would.”

“I..” she started to say but was suddenly choked up at the look in his eyes. They were shining and she couldn’t remember ever seeing them that blue in her entire life. She imagined hers looked identical to his. “I’m in love with you and I always have been. I’ve just been terrified of admitting it.”

“That’s much better,” Justin said calmly trying his best not to get teary eyed. It almost worked until he looked into her eyes. “Now I need you to do something for me,” he spoke softly and slowly, making her feel like she’d never felt before, ever.

“Oh my God, now I know why girls fall at your feet,” Amanda said with a deep exhale and a laugh. It had been too long since she’d seen him. He made her feel beyond happy; his presence overjoyed her, made her laugh. “I’ll do anything, what do you need me to do?”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you said anything, just for right now,” he said throwing his head back with a laugh. “You’re in trouble, just so you know,” looking back down at her he spoke with a smile on his face. “Are you going to kiss me or what? Cause that’s what I need right….”

He didn’t finish the sentence because Amanda’s lips met his in a soft, long awaiting kiss. The contact made Justin jump in shock and made her toes curl. Amanda had been dreaming of that kiss for weeks and had become highly obsessed with his lips for as long as she could admit to. The time she’d spent apart from him had been agonizing. She never thought she could miss someone that way until she left Justin, her best friend, behind.

Pulling away just enough to break the contact, she looked into his eyes with a smile on her face. He was blushing and she couldn’t help but smile wider. “You talk too much, homeboy. Do you want to waste another twenty-four years talking?” she asked placing another soft kiss on his lips.

“Why would I want to do that?” Justin asked with a smile as she grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him onto the couch. Lifting herself up from the sofa, she slowly sat sideways on his lap, making his eyes open wide. “You know you can’t do that anymore without consequences, right?”

“I know,” she smiled. “I know.”

“I did mention that you’re in trouble, right?” Justin asked as he placed his left hand on her knee. Reaching behind her head with his right hand he pulled her down to him, whispering merely an inch from her lips. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you this way since puberty,” and he placed his lips on hers, coaxing her mouth open.

A moan escaped from her mouth and the sound of it made Justin’s left hand touch the side of her face, making her as close to him as possible.

“If you MUST make out with my cousin, can you do it somewhere were pictures of your mothers aren’t present? It’s quite disrespectful,” the sound of their best friend’s voice didn’t surprise either one of them and neither pulled away from each other. “That’s just wrong,” Trace said walking past them, as they remained lip-locked, turning the picture of Lynn and Amanda’s mother face down on the end table. “And why the hell are you two making out to Let’s Take A Ride? You ain’t taking my cousin on NO RIDE. You hear me J? Hello?”

Trace pretended to be upset as he left the room, strictly for their benefit, but as he turned the corner to leave out the front door, a smile decorated his features. “About fucking time!”