“I’m tired.”

“Good,” Karen said, holding the door open so that Justin could wheel himself through. “It will give you the motivation to get those horses fed faster this morning.”

Sheridan looked at him. Justin looked tired, withdrawn. There were humongous bags under his eyes. He looked almost sick. Like somebody that had been up for days on end with a terrible case of the flu. She felt badly for him. He had cried so hard, for so long. He hadn’t said anything the entire time. He would pause to catch a breath here or there, sometimes he had glanced up at her, as if to make sure she was really there…but he had never said a word. She had wrapped her arms around him, and rubbed his back. It had calmed him down considerably, and she had wondered if it was something his mother had done to relax him. He had fallen asleep this way. Her arms around him, his head on her shoulder. She had tucked him into bed.

She wanted to say something. She wanted to tell her mother just why it was that Justin was so tired this morning. But she knew Justin wouldn’t want her to blurt that out. It had been hard enough for him to break down and hold onto somebody for support. She didn’t want to ruin that breakthrough for him.

He didn’t budge. “I’m tired,” he whispered.

“Go Justin,” Karen said, motioning him out the door with her hand.

He shook his head. “No.”

Sheridan pressed her lips together. She was afraid for him. She didn’t want her mother to lose her patience and make him power wash the stables. She knew it would only cause him to become more emotionally distraught. Justin couldn’t afford to be. He was a mess. If he was dealt any more trauma, she knew he would need medication to keep his emotions in check. There was no way around it. She needed to tell her mother what had happened last night. “Mom.”

At first she didn’t hear her. “That’s it. I’ll be calling your mother today Justin. No phone calls until you learn to cooperate.”

“What!” Justin whined. “Karen…what the hell is your problem!”

“Mom!”

Karen glanced at her. “What is it?”

“I…I should tell you something.”

Justin glanced over his shoulder. “No Sheridan,” he said, seeming to know exactly what she had in mind.

Karen sighed and pulled Justin back inside so the door could close again. She placed her hands on her hips. “So tell me then.”

“Last night…”

“I’ll go!” Justin blurted out. “I will. Just open the door Karen. I‘m sorry--”

“What about last night?” Karen said, cutting his speech short.

“Justin got into his wheelchair by himself.”

Karen was speechless.

“He…was playing the piano and I found him. He…” she paused. She didn’t want to come out and say he had cried all night. She knew it would only leave him feeling humiliated. “It took a lot out of him.”

Justin had covered his face with one of his hands. Sheridan knew he was mad. But she had only been trying to help him.

“Is this true, Justin?” Karen said finally.

His hand slid down his face. “I guess so.”

A small smile appeared on Karen‘s face. “You got out of bed by yourself?”

“I guess so,” he repeated. “Why? You gonna make me shovel horse shit? Wash the stables?”

Karen glanced at Sheridan. Her eyes were gleaming. “What do you think Sheridan?”

Sheridan was relieved. Her Mother was ecstatic. But unless you knew her, you would never be able to tell. “How about I feed the horses?,” she offered.

Karen seemed to ponder the idea for a moment. “No,” she shot Justin a pleased look. “How about I feed them.”

Justin seemed shocked.

“Why don’t you fix breakfast Sheridan?” Karen said. She gave Justin a gentle rub on the shoulder, and walked out the door.

Sheridan’s smile faded, the moment her mother was out of site. She was fully expecting Justin to start hollering at her. Pissed that she had told her mother about his “moment”.

“Did that just happen?” Justin whispered.

She was surprised by his reaction. “I think so,” she nodded.

A smile cracked at the corner of his mouth. “I…” he paused and shifted in his wheelchair slightly. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” she said. She turned on her heel and started away from him.

“Wait up Sher,”

Sheridan looked over her shoulder. Justin was following her. She smiled. “So you’re not mad?”

He shrugged. “Hey. Your mom just offered to do that shit work for me. If it hadn’t been for you…I’d be out there bustin’ my crippled ass,” he laughed.

She frowned. “Don’t degrade yourself Justin. You‘re temporarily disabled, not crippled.”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to be so damn…serious all the time.”

She laughed at him. “You’re one to talk. Always in a funk…always acting like the world is against you.”

The small smile inhabiting his expression faded. “You’re not me.”

“I know,” she nodded. “But I’ve had my share of bad times too.”

“Aww what happened Sheridan?,” he said, sarcastically. “Did your horse die…did you get a C on your term paper? Because I know how traumatic stuff like that can be,” he shook his head and looked away from her.

Sheridan gritted her teeth. How could he be so cold, so unfeeling? After last night, she thought he would have started opening up to her. But he wasn’t opening up to her. He was pushing her away again. “You shouldn’t meddle in things you know nothing about,” she whispered. “My horse didn’t die…and I could care less if I got a C on my term paper. I had a huge part of my life taken from me Justin…and I know you know what that’s like.”

He stared at her. He seemed surprised, but was trying desperately not to let on. “I don’t care.”

“But you do,” Sheridan nodded, and shuffled over to him. “Because I know…somewhere inside of you, you’re hurting just as bad as I did when…when it happened to me.”

“I‘m fine,” he seethed. “I don’t need you to tell me how I feel.”

“What about last night?” Sheridan whispered. “You weren’t so fine then.”

“Last night was a mistake. I lost control. It’s not gonna happen again. I’m gonna call my mom and get the hell out of here.”

She sucked in a breath. “Right Justin. Because running away is the answer to everything.”

“Everything that’s happened is because of me. I can’t change it.”

“But you can move on,” she whispered. “I did. My father died Justin. He died because I wasn’t paying any attention to what I was doing. “

He remained silent. He was staring at her, studying her. As if he were trying to understand something about her. “Did you think…that it was your fault?”

Sheridan nodded. “I thought so at the time but…”

“Sheridan,” he blurted out suddenly, cutting her off.

“Yeah?” She met his gaze. His eyes looked so lost. They were saying, Can you help me? But she knew he wasn’t about to ask her that.

“How do you live with yourself?”

“I didn’t at first,” she said. “But as time went on, I allowed myself to heal.”

“Oh.” He wouldn’t look at her.

“I…talked about it. It helped a lot to talk about it,” she said. She hoped this was it. She wanted him to open up, to let it all out like he had last night…just at a higher level.

“I…” he began. “I don’t want to talk about it.” he said, and rolled past her.

She wasn’t about to let him get past her that easily. She was on to something with him. Last night had proven that. Sheridan wasn’t a quitter. When she wanted something, she got it. And she was going to get Justin to talk. She didn’t care what it took. “Justin,” she called after him, jogging into the dining room. He had parked himself in front of the large picture window. “Justin,” she whispered.

He didn‘t bother turning to look at her. “Fuck off, Sheridan.”

She approached him, and pulled one of the chairs over to his chair side. “Don’t push me away.”

“I’ll do what I want,” he whispered.

“Why won’t you talk to me? I’m here Justin. I’m here to listen to you. I want to help you,” she told him. She reached out to touch his face the way she had last night.

He slapped it away. He turned his gaze to her, and shot her a cold look. "You killed your father," he said. "You should know."

She flinched slightly at his comment, but she wouldn’t let him know how much he had hurt her. “My father had a horsing accident,” she managed to get out, without the slightest quiver in her voice.

“And I had a car accident,” he snapped.

Sheridan sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. “You’re not dead, Justin.”

He looked away from her. “Shut up.”

She had to ask. It was a sure fire way to get him to break down. A question as emotional as this one, would send anybody in his situation over the edge. Was it risky? Yes. But at this point, Sheridan just didn’t give a damn. “Who was it?” He tensed up immediately. That had done it. She held her breath.

“What?”

“Who died Justin?”

He said nothing. He glared at her and rolled out of the room.

She followed him. Once she was close enough, she grabbed the handles on his wheelchair, pulling him to a halt. “Stop running away from me.”

“Let go of me,” he seethed, trying to push himself forward.

“No,” she said, tightening her hold on the handles. “I won’t let you do this to yourself anymore. You need to talk about this Justin…I don’t care how I have to get you to do it.”

"Shit…I already did it to myself Sheridan! There’s nothing to say! It’s done…it’s over…and now here I fuckin’ am!“

Her gaze remained stern. She stared down at him, daring him to try and get past her this time.

The hard look on his face softened considerably. His eyes were glazed over, ready to unleash a flurry of tears. “Just...go...ride your horse...live your life. I'll live mine," he said softly. “Please,” he put a hand over his face.

She released her grip on the handles. He didn’t try to move away from her. She walked around to face him, and gently pulled his hand away from his face. There were tears now. It was progress. Even if it was only a little. “But you aren’t living Justin,” she said after a moment. “You’re barely surviving.”

He sniffled. “I’m breathing aren’t I?”

She flashed him a small smile. “People on life support breathe too.”

“Jesus…” he said, his bottom lip quivering. "Sheridan, why the hell do you even care? Why the hell do you care…“ he paused for a moment, gazing out into space. “…that he died? You didn‘t know him. You didn’t spend every fucking day of your life with him. And you certainly didn’t sit by and watch him die in a hospital bed,” he sobbed. “So just…fuck off alright?” He sucked in a long breath, wiped the tears from his eyes, and began to stare out the window again. “Just fuck off.”

He started to cry.

Sheridan would have smiled normally. Normally, accomplishing a task such as this would have made her feel like a professional…like her mother. But she wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t smiling, because now she knew what he was going through. He was dealing with the same emotional trauma that she had all those years ago. She knew this pain. She knew how it could plague your mind night after night, day after day. Never hesitating to remind you…that it was entirely your fault. She felt like hugging him just then, and she did, not caring that if he got angry at her for it. She felt him tense up, but didn’t let go. She knew that deep down, he needed this. He needed it more than he knew.

“Stop,” he got out. “Just stop it.”

“No. I won’t. You need this.”

Silence followed.

Minutes passed. Then she felt a hand on her back, giving it a light pat. Then it developed into a full embrace. She didn’t say anything. She knew any words she could say would ruin the moment.

“Did you ever feel so alone…” she heard him say. “That you forgot….what it felt like to reach out and touch somebody?”

She hugged him tighter. “Yes.”

He was clinging to her now. “I got you,” she whispered.

“Don’t let go.”

************

“I hope you like leggo my eggo,” Sheridan said, pulling a box of waffles out of the freezer. “I never bothered to take the time to learn how to make a good meal. But when you live in New York City most of the year, you don’t need to worry about it. There’s a place to eat on every corner.”

“I know,“ Justin nodded.

She chuckled. “Right…I always forget who you are for some reason.“

Justin watched as she expertly popped four waffles into the toaster. It was sort of cute to him, that this girl who was capable of so much wouldn’t attempt to learn how to make an omelet. Justin wasn’t an amazing cook himself, but he did know that he could make a killer omelet. When Trace had been alive, and they had been home…it was all they would eat….breakfast…lunch…sometimes even dinner if they hadn’t felt like calling up Tiny to get it for them. It had been months since he had thought about doing anything like this. The depression sucked all of the life out of him. Now…now he was coming around. He looked at Sheridan.

“Damn, I’ll never understand how you adjust the toast setting on these things,” she said, bending over and turning the dial. “I hope you don’t mind burnt…leggo my eggo,” she frowned.

He smiled. It was because of her…because she hadn’t given up on him when he had told her to, that he wasn‘t brooding out by the horse stables. It was because of her, that he was able to unleash some of the demons inside of him. Trace…she was the first person he had ever talked to about it, besides those that already knew the story. Suddenly, the world he had come to hate so much, was starting to seem a little brighter. But only just. “I can make omelets,” he whispered.

Sheridan looked back over her shoulder. “No shit,” she gasped. “For real?”

He smiled. It felt good. “Fo’ sheezy.” He didn’t hesitate to wheel himself over to the refrigerator. “It’s not hard. All you need’s some eggs, cheese and other junk,” he yanked open the door, and scanned it for a few moments. “Look Sher, you got everything right here.” He reached inside and grabbed the desired items from their locations. He wheeled himself over to the counter, and placed the items on it. He looked at her. She was staring at him strangely. “Now what?”

“Nothing,” she chuckled. “Just…I’m just waiting to see how you do this.”

“Alright,” he said, taking a deep breath. “First, you get your pan. It’s gotta be a good sized pan, so you can flip the omelet and not have it get all runny and shit.”

Sheridan reached up and took a pot from the rack. “Like this?”

He sighed. “No no…not like that,” he looked up into the rack. “That one,” he pointed out.

She took the pan down. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he opened the carton of eggs. “Now you take your eggs, and cook those a little…and then you add the stuff in.”

Sheridan looked lost. “Cook them a little? But when do I know when it’s been a little?”

Justin tipped his head back and laughed. “Girl, you don’t cook do ya?”

She frowned. “So?”

“Here…let me,” he moved himself closer to the stove. “Just hand me what I tell you to.”

“Alright,” Sheridan moved to the other side of him. “So…how did you learn to do this anyway?”

He smiled. “Go live on a bus for months at a time,” he said. “You learn to do for yourself pretty quick. Egg please,” he held out his hand.

“When did you start doing all of that?” Sheridan asked him.

“Well…me and the guys knew each other for awhile. I was sixteen when we got signed.”

“Oh…so you never went to high school?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Spatula.”

She passed it to him. “Do you ever…wish you had?”

He nodded. “Sometimes. I mean Trace went, but he dropped--” he stopped. He looked at her. She was staring at him intently, waiting for him to finish his sentence. But he didn’t want to talk about Trace anymore today. He had said too much already.

“So what? You just got your GED then?”

Justin was relieved that she had decided to change the subject. “Yeah. Well…I had a tutor. Me and Lance.”

“Lance?” she asked. “Oh,” she smacked her head. “That’s one of the guys from NSYNC right?”

He laughed out loud. “Guess you don’t know your boy bands. I need the cheese.”

“No,” she sighed, handing it to him. “I just know about you. But that‘s only because Marcy…God…that CD of yours is all she would ever fuckin‘ play.”

He sprinkled the cheese into the egg, and stirred it around. “Who’s Marcy?”

“Oh,” Sheridan chuckled. “My room mate. We’re good friends.”

He nodded. “Back at school?”

“Yeah.”

He flipped the newly formed omelet. “What are you going for?”

“Medicine. But I really want to base my practice in physical therapy, like my Mom,” she smiled.

"So you wanna push freaks like me around…” he mumbled, flipping the omelet one last time before turning off the burner. It was negative. And he felt bad about saying something else negative, because the conversation had been so positive. But at the same time he couldn’t help it. He was a freak. Nothing could convince him otherwise.

This time she didn’t frown. She smiled instead. “I bet I’m more of a freak than you are.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Get real Sher,” he said. “Here’s your breakfast.”

She grabbed a plate out of the dish rack. “I am.”

“Stop with the charade,” he grumbled. “Gimme another egg.” She did. He cooked his own breakfast in silence, and Sheridan prepared his plate for him. He stared at the food. He wasn’t hungry. This morning had been too much. He placed the plate on the counter.

“I can wrap my legs around my head,” she whispered, stabbing her food with her fork. “And…I can speak horse.”

His eyes widened. “At the same time!”

She started to laugh. So hard that her body began to shake. He stared at her. She had a nice smile.

“You like her huh?” Trace was standing by the sink, smoking a cigarette. “Not that I blame you J. I mean…she’s is your type. Tall, thin…blond. And yeah, she’s pretty cute…” he glanced at her behind. “But not amazing. But you were never one to go for those supermodel types.”

“Thish ish sho good!” Sheridan exclaimed, her mouth full of food. “Justin! You’re amazing! Why didn’t you tell me you could cook so well?”

“Stop,” he grumbled, shooting Trace a dirty look.

“I’m serious!” Sheridan exclaimed.

He looked at her. “Oh…well, thanks then.”

She broke off a piece of her omelet and threw it at him. “Grumpy Bear.”

He half smiled, and threw a piece of the cheese at her. “I’m not.”

She grabbed an egg. “Confess.”

He was confused. And he didn’t like the way her eyes were gleaming, or the way she was holding that egg in her hand. “Confess?”

“Say “I’m a Grumpy Bear.”

“Pssh,” he said. “Yeah right.”

She threw the egg at him. It smashed upon colliding with his chest, and dribbled down the front of his shirt. “That’s what you get,” she smirked.

Justin was speechless. His mouth hung open.

“Classic!” Trace exclaimed.

“Why’d you do that?” he grumbled, wheeling himself over to get a paper towel. The eggs rested beside them. He smiled softly, and quietly took one. “That was fucked up you know.”

She sighed and turned away from him. She opened the refrigerator. “Justin, it was just a…”

“Take this!” he cackled, throwing the egg at her. It hit her rear end, and smashed. Justin laughed. He hadn’t remembered the last time he had done this. He was sure it had been with Trace though. He looked for him. He had vanished, but this time he didn’t care. He was too busy laughing to care.

“Oh my god!” Sheridan laughed, whirling around to face him. “You didn’t do that!”

“But I did,” he said, grabbing another egg.

“Justin! No!”

“What‘s going on in here?”

The new voice caused their laughter to cease. Justin looked. Karen was standing in the doorway. She didn’t looked thrilled. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Sheridan?” Karen said, focusing her gaze on her. “What’s going on?”

“We…” she began.

“I was showing her how to make this…omelet thing.” Justin spoke up. He held his breath.

“You cook Justin?” Karen smiled, walking into the kitchen.

He blushed. “I…guess.”

“He can Mom,” Sheridan said, her eyes gleaming. “This omelet is so good!”

Karen sighed. “I’ll clean this up. Just help Justin get ready for his exercises.”

A small, almost nonexistent smile was resting on Karen’s face. Justin smiled to himself. Maybe she wasn’t such a bitch after all.

“You should eat this,” Karen sighed, holding up his plate. “Or you’re never going to be able to tackle those parallel bars today.”

Justin’s eyes widened. Oh God…please no… “I…I don’t feel good.”

“You’ll be fine,” Karen said. Her smile had faded away. She was back to her normal self. “Eat.”

He took the plate from her. He looked at Sheridan. He was scared. He knew she could tell.

“Maybe…Justin isn’t ready mom,” Sheridan said, after a moment.

Karen gave her a disapproving look. “And maybe you don’t know where your head is right now, Sheridan.”

She bit her bottom lip, and walked out of the room.

“Sheridan,” he called after her. She didn’t return. He frowned.

“Eat,” Karen ordered again. She turned to the sink and began to wash the dishes. “I want to get started.”

He didn’t try to protest. He had been here long enough to know that when Karen said something, she meant it…and she never changed her mind. With a sigh, he stabbed the egg with his fork and shoved a piece in his mouth.

He knew he couldn’t get out of this.

************

The long strip of black padding seemed to stretch for miles. Karen stood at the opposite end of the bars. She had attached braces to his legs, to keep them straight, and now she expected him to tackle his fear. Justin didn’t know why she was pushing this. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t hold onto those bars and pull himself over to her. He would fall…he would be humiliated. Just like he had been in the hospital.

Sheridan wasn’t in the room. He didn’t know where she was. But he did know she had seemed upset at her mothers words. You don’t know where your head is…she had barked. What was that supposed to mean anyway? He didn’t know.

“The first step, Justin,” Karen said. “Is not thinking you can do this…but knowing you can.”

“Well,” he rolled his eyes. “I know I can’t.”

“That attitude really sucks,” she sighed, walking over to him. “Now, I know that you refused to do this in the hospital, but I’m not like those doctors. I don’t take orders from my patients. You will do this, Justin.”

He glared at her. “You can’t make me do anything.”

“Do you want to speak with your mother, Justin?”

He gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

She smiled. “Then you will do this.”

“I wonder what my mother would say if she knew that you were threatening me like this,” Justin snapped. “I’ll tell you one thing…”

“I’ve spoken with your mother several times,” Karen cut him off. “It was at her request, that I don’t have you call her, until you make this first transition.”

He felt the anger begin to boil inside him. Justin knew his mother. He knew she wouldn’t hesitate to speak with him. Karen was a liar. That’s all she was. A big mouthed liar. “You lie,” he seethed. “I know my mother.”

Karen smiled. “I’m sure you do. But really Justin, what reason do I have to lie about something like this? I’m not a warden…I’m not here to deprive you of your loved ones. I’m here to help you get better, and your mother thinks that a phone call to her looming over your head, will motivate you to do this. That’s all.”

He could picture his mother saying all this to Karen. She had probably been curled up on the couch, her hair in that messy ponytail she always wore when she was lazing around the house. Paul had been at her side, squeezing her hand for the length of the phone conversation. He knew it had probably been difficult for her…nearly unbearable. But she had done it for his well being. He hated how right Karen was. “But I can’t do this,” he whispered.

She kneeled down to his level. “Tell me why.”

He looked at her. Her gaze wasn’t cold, or demanding. It was a caring one. “Because…it’s…just look at me. I mean,” he paused and sighed. “I have a piss bag attached to me.”

“I know this seems impossible,” she nodded. “You’re sitting there in that chair, thinking that the world has turned its back on you. But it hasn’t Justin. You have the power to get better,” she placed her hand over his heart. “In here.”

He bit his bottom lip, and gazed at the bars again. Was she right? “Do you…really think that?”

“No,” she shook her head.

He frowned, and looked down at his lap.

“I know that.”

He looked at her again. “But what if I fall.”

“Then you’ll get up and do it again. I’ll be here to help you Justin. Every step of the way.”

He looked at the bars again. He looked at them long and hard. What are the benefits of this? he thought to himself. If I do this, and I fall…I’ll feel like a stupid freak. But if this works…and I keep going at it, I‘ll get to walk again. I need to walk again. Walking. Walking could eventually turn into dancing. He needed to dance again. He needed to perform again. “You won’t leave?” he said, with questioning eyes.

“I’ll be right here,” she smiled. “Are you ready?”

He sucked in a breath. “I…I think.”

“Okay,” she stood up and held her hands out to him. “Take my hands.”

He did. She pulled him to his feet. He fell back into the chair. “Fuck,” he whimpered.

“Come on Justin,” Karen persisted. “Don’t quit.”

And he didn’t this time. He took her hands again. This time, she locked her arms around his upper body, and pushed him onto the black pad. “Now, hold onto the bars.”

He grabbed onto them. She let go. “No!” he yelled. “Karen!”

“I’m right here.”

His upper body was shaking. Sweat dripped down his face. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t hold himself up like this. It was like the hospital…exactly like it. He felt himself slip. “Karen!”

“Come on you pussy! Do it!” Trace was standing at the end of the padding now.

“I can’t!” he yelled.

“Don’t you say you can’t,” Trace pointed his finger at him. “Don’t you fuckin’ say that.”

“One step Justin. That’s all you need to take.” Karen called out. “Just one.”

He gritted his teeth. He tried. He tried so hard. It was useless. He couldn’t move. “Nothing works,” he cried.

Somehow, Trace had moved from his position at the end of the bars, and was now standing before him. “Remember that time…that time you sprained your ankle J?”

“Wha…”

“We went to the club,” Trace snickered. “And you had that dance off. Man, you kicked that guys ass…remember?”

He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. He did remember. But that had only been a sprained ankle. He couldn’t feel his legs. There was a big difference. “But…”

“One step…you heard her,” he said. “Just do it.” He vanished.

Trace had a point. If he could have a dance off with a sprained ankle…why couldn’t he push himself to take a little step? It wasn’t like she was asking him to walk the entire length of the pad. He grunted, and put all of his strength and determination forward. He closed his eyes. He felt himself move.

“Justin!”

He opened his eyes at the sound of Karen’s voice. “Y-yeah…” he got out.

“Justin you did it! You took a step!”

She felt her from behind him, locking her arms around his chest. It was a good thing too, because he knew he was going to fall at any moment. Then he felt the chair beneath him again. He looked up at her. “I did.” He felt himself smile.

“I told you,” Karen smiled. “I told you that you could do it.”

“What’s happening.”

He heard it. Her sweet voice. He looked over his shoulder. Sheridan was standing in the doorway, a small smile resting on her face.

“Justin took a step,” Karen beamed.

“No!” Sheridan exclaimed. “Justin! That’s great!”

“Thanks,” he blushed.

Karen rubbed his shoulder. “Now…that deserves something,” she said.

His eyes widened. “I want to call my mom.”

Karen nodded. “Absolutely. After dinner, I’ll arrange something.”

Justin smiled. For the first time, it seemed that there was hope for him. Maybe he wouldn’t be stuck this way forever.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit,” Karen winked. “Sheridan, he’ll need a bath, if you can.”

Justin looked at her. She seemed terrified. He felt the same way. Karen had been giving him his baths, and no, it wasn’t the most thrilling thing in the world…but still, she was certified…a doctor. Sheridan was just…Sheridan. A girl he was coming to know as his friend. A kind of cute girl at that. Now she had to see him naked? “But Karen…” he began.

“Oh you don’t mind do you Justin?” Karen asked. “She needs the practice.”

He felt too guilty to tell her otherwise. “Uh…no…”

“Good,” she smiled. “After your bath, you can relax for a bit. I’ll come get you when its time to give the horses their supper. Sheridan, let me know if you have a problem alright?”

“Yes,” she managed. “I will.”

“Okay,” she said, and walked out of the room.

He stared at Sheridan. She stared back. “I…uh…if you’re uncomfortable…”

“Don’t be silly,” she smiled, walking over to him. “Its part of the job,” she gave him a small hug. “I’m really proud of you. That must have taken a lot.”

He felt her behind him, and a moment later, he was being wheeled out of the room. “Thanks Sheridan.”

“You’re welcome, Grumpy Bear.”

“Is that name gonna stick?” he groaned.

“Of course,” she giggled.

“Well then, I guess I need to think of a name for you.”

“Oh?” he heard her say. “Like what?”

“I dunno,” he half smiled, pondering the thought for a moment. “Let me think about it.”

“You do that,” she laughed.

Now they were turning into the bathing room. He trembled slightly. This was going to be different.

“You’re okay with this,” she said, putting the brakes on his chair. “Aren’t you?”

“Oh sure,” he lied. “Just fine.”

She began to remove the braces from his legs. “Okay.”

“Are you okay with this?”

She looked up at him. “I told you…it’s part of the job.”

“Why’d you go away before?” he asked her.

She was silent.

“Sher?”

“I…” she began, pulling the first brace off. “My mom…just embarrassed me.”

“You sure that’s it?” he whispered.

She looked directly into his eyes. “You’re not my type.”

He laughed. “Who said anything about me being your type!”

“Well…you kinda hinted at it,” she grumbled.

“No, I didn’t,” he whispered. “In case you haven’t noticed…I have a lot more on my mind right now besides sex, and women.”

“Alright then. Just drop it.” She pulled the bathing chair over to his chair side, and helped him onto it. “Strip.”

He yanked his shirt over his head. “Damn. What did I say?”

“You empathized that I have some sort of silly crush on you,” she said, bending down to undo his belt buckle.

He smirked. “Well…do you?”

Her eyes widened. “Certainly not!”

He laughed. “Aww! You do! That’s cute. I’m flattered Sher…really.”

“I do not have a crush on you,” she snapped, pulling his pants off. “God…conceited jerk.”

It was such a normal situation, he almost forgot what was going on at that very moment. “You know how many girls have said that to me in the past?” he asked her.

She pulled his boxer shorts off. “I’m sure that there are more than I can count.”

He was naked now. Naked in front of her. He was nervous. He looked down at himself, and covered his manhood. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Just…do what you need to.”

Her annoyed gaze softened. “You’re uncomfortable,” she told him.

He nodded. “It…down there…it’s not…it’s…”

“It’s okay,” she smiled. “I’m not going to laugh at you.” She dipped the sponge in the bucket of soapy water she had prepared. “Just relax.”

He did. The water felt good against his sweaty skin. Oh…how he longed to take a shower. A real one. A steamy, hot, shower. It was impossible. He let her wash him, and closed his eyes, imagining that he was standing in the shower. It was working, until she told him to lift his arms. He opened his eyes.

“Smelly boy,” she giggled, washing under his arms.

“Shut up,” he pouted.

“Well…this is kinda kinky huh?” Trace said, walking into the room. “It’s like…some kind of wet dream J.”

He shook his head. “This isn’t the time.”

“Sorry,” Sheridan whispered.

Trace shrugged. “I’ll just watch.”

“No,” he said.

Sheridan looked at him. “No?”

He gasped. He needed to stop talking to Trace. “I mean…no…don’t be sorry.”

“Oh,” she smiled. “Alright.”

“Man you’re no fun,” Trace pouted. “I’ll see ya.”

He was gone again. Justin rolled his eyes. He had always been a little whiner.

“I need to…um…” Sheridan motioned to where his hand was covering his manhood.

“Oh,” he said. He slowly removed his hand. He winced.

She looked at him. “Don’t be nervous,” she said, beginning to wash him again.

“I can’t feel anything,” he whispered. “It’s…degrading, ya know.”

“Actually…I don’t know. I’m not…equipped.”

He started to laugh. It was so strange. A strange situation…a strange thing to be laughing about. But he knew she was the only one who could have brought some humor to the situation. She began to laugh too. Then their laughter ceased. He caught her eyes with his. “You’re…” he took in a breath. “eyes are nice.”

She blushed. “Stop,” she rolled her eyes, and continued to wash him.

He wanted to touch her. He didn’t know why. Her hair…her face…anything. He did. He ran his hand through her hair. It was like silk. “Sher,” he whispered.

She looked up at him. He knew she was thinking what he was. “I can’t kiss you Justin.”

He bit his lip. “I’m sorry.”

They stared at each other.

And she kissed him.