Where is your head… Sheridan opened her eyes. She was kissing him. She was kissing Justin. She quickly pulled away from him. “Omigod,” she whispered, covering her mouth. Her mother had entrusted her with Justin. She had trusted her to be professional, and give him a bath like a professional caretaker would. But she had violated that trust. She had let his eyes…his voice…his body, captivate her. She felt like some sort of groupie, that had gotten into his hotel room. This was the most unprofessional thing she could have possibly done. She knew her mother would flip if she ever found out. “Oh…crap.” She looked up at him. His eyes were wide, nervous. “I…”

“What happened?” he whispered.

She stood up, and placed the sponge back into the bucket. “I dunno.” She pulled a towel off of a table and tossed it to him. “But I’m sorry.” She turned away from him.

“You gonna mess with my head now Sheridan?”

She looked over her shoulder. “I know I messed up, Justin.” She lifted the bucket off the ground and carried it over to the sink.

“You don’t just kiss somebody,” he said. “You just…Jesus…do you think I have time for this? Look at me! I‘m a freak…I don‘t have time to worry about you…and your damn hormones. Don’t fuckin‘ do that again.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Yeah, you’re sorry alright.” He picked up the towel and began to dry himself off. “You know…everybody is fuckin’ sorry. They’re sorry about what happened…they’re sorry I lost my friend…they’re sorry that I have to fuckin’ wheel myself around. And now you’re sorry too. You’re sorry that you felt like playin a little game with me, huh Sher? A little fuckin--”

“Dammit!” she shouted. “I’m not trying to play mind games with you. My mind told me to do something, and I just…I just did it. It was stupid alright…I know that. So just…try and get over yourself for a damn second.”

“Get over myself?,” he laughed sadly, shaking his head. “Just help me get dressed.”

She dressed him in silence, trying not to make eye contact with him. It was easier said than done. She couldn’t help but meet his gaze when helping him with his shirt, and his eyes held a despondency that she knew she had put there. Why had she done it? She pondered the thought, while listening to Justin grumble about how he ‘couldn’t wait to call his mother and get outta here’…’get away from you’. She couldn’t think of a straight answer to give to herself. All she knew was that she had felt strongly compelled to make him feel loved, and her mind and body had reacted the only way they knew how.

Once she had Justin dressed and back in his wheelchair, she wheeled him out of the room. “Wanna watch a movie?” she said, figuring it might brighten mood.

“No,” he mumbled. “Leave me by the piano.”

“Can I watch?”

“No,” he snapped.

She frowned. “You know, I thought you wanted me to kiss you.”

He looked up at her. “You thought fuckin’ wrong.”

She turned into the room that contained the piano. It was the same room that he had broken down in last night. Sheridan couldn’t believe that she had come so far with him, only to end up in the position she was in now. She parked him in front of the piano. “So are you going to stay mad at me forever?” she sighed.

He began to toy with the keys. “Yes.”

She chuckled. “Now look at me and say it.”

He didn’t look at her. “Leave,” he grumbled. An angry look suddenly spread across his face, and he looked off to his left. “Shut up!” he exclaimed. “Cocky mother fucker.”

Sheridan was confused. She was sure that comment hadn’t been directed at her. But it had sounded so angry, she knew it could have been. “Justin?”

“I’m sick of you,” he seethed, still looking in the same direction. “Just die already!”

He couldn’t have been talking to her. It was so strange. She had never seen him acting this way before. Well…that first day…she had thought he had been talking to himself, but she hadn’t thought about it much. Now it made more sense. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Justin.”

He jumped a little, and finally looked over at her. “W-what?”

“Who are you talking to?”

His eyes widened. “You.”

“No,” she shook her head. “You couldn’t have been.”

He quickly directed his gaze down at the piano keys. “Leave me alone.”

“Talk to me,” she whispered.

He looked back at her. An angry, cold gaze was resting on his face. “Go. To. Hell.”

Sheridan sighed. Justin wasn’t in the mood to be talked to…hugged…joked with. He wanted to be left alone. There was nothing she could do to change how he felt, because it was her fault he had gotten into this mood in the first place. As for the whole talking to himself thing…she would have to try and figure it out another time, when he was being more civil with her. “Fine,” she said softly. She turned and walked out of the room. She stood outside of the doorway for several moments. He began to play. It was beautiful…magical.

But she wasn’t allowed to be a part of it. And it was entirely her fault.

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

Justin remembered how it used to be. She would let him make the first move. His lips would touch hers. They would be soft, and often, they would taste like some sort of candy. Then he would feel it…down there. First a tingle…then that stiffness that drove him wild. He would pull away from her just then, and just gaze at her. He would lick his lips. She would smile. “Can I kiss you again?” he would whisper. Of course, she would say yes. And thus, another one night stand would commence.

Countless nights had started out that way for him. There had been so many girls…so, so many. He couldn’t remember their names…how old they were…what they did. It hadn’t mattered to him. They had simply been beautiful women, who wanted to have him. That had been enough. After Britney…after all of his heartache…anything had been enough.

Trace had always been along for the ride. At the club_or the party_or the awards show. It didn't matter where they were. There were always women around_beautiful women. More often than not, they found themselves pairing up with two best friends_two sisters…two co-workers. They'd bring them back to the hotel, and wink to each other as they went into their separate hotel rooms, a girl on each of their arms.

“See you for coffee,” Trace would always say. Then the girl Trace was with would start to laugh, and then they would go into his room.

There was one night that stood out. One night, he would never forget. New Years, 2003. He had taken Trace to the Osbourne’s vow renewing. It was lame…but there had been no press allowed, so Justin had jumped at the opportunity. Kelly had been flaunting herself at him the entire evening, which had turned him off. But then…those twins had showed up. So, instead of letting Kelly Osbourne ruin a perfectly good evening, he and Trace had shoved Kelly off on his mother, who had also attended that evenings festivities. They had snuck off in the corner with them, and before he knew it…they had been in the limo going back to the hotel. The girls had laughed and giggled the whole way, while he and Trace had let their hands wander carelessly all over the girl’s perfectly proportioned bodies.

Then one of them had said, “Have you guys ever had a party in bed?”

He remembered looking at Trace, and then back at the girl. “A party?”

“You know,” the girl had smiled. “Like…a group thing?”

He hadn’t wanted to do it. Trace had though. It had been hard for him to say no after that. Trace had made him feel guilty. He had said it was ‘something you do once, J’, and ‘it’s new years after all’. One more look at the girls had made his mind up for him. Then, he had found himself in his hotel room…in bed. Trace on one end…the girls in the middle, and himself on the other end. Then the champagne had been brought up. After that…everything else seemed like a blur. He remembered waking up in the morning, and seeing the girls laid out across the bed. They had been naked, and Justin had known what had gone down. Then he had seen Trace, stumbling around, trying to find his boxer shorts. It had seemed strange at first, but then he had thought about it…realized it was only Trace he was dealing with…and knew everything was fine.

Then they had given the girls the boot, a common ritual, and had gone out for coffee. They had laughed about the whole thing. Trace had said “Dude…we’re takin’ this one to the grave.”

He frowned. He hadn’t thought Trace would have had to take their secret to his grave so soon.

Things had changed. There was the accident…the loss of his ability to walk…to urinate. And now, for the first time, he realized that he had lost the ability to feel…that. The tingle…the urge to crawl on top of a woman and have sex with her till the sun came up. It wasn’t there. He knew, because Sheridan had kissed him, and…he hadn’t felt anything. Nothing moved when her lips had met his…nothing twitched or fluttered. Down there…it hadn’t reacted at all. Not even a tiny bit. Everything was useless…everything was numb.

He was a freak. And Sheridan, well…she allowed herself to kiss him. She had allowed her self to kiss a freak. For what reason he didn’t know. All he knew was the numbness he had felt the instant her lips had came in contact with him, had scared him beyond belief…and he never wanted to feel that way again. She had gotten close…too close. The only option…push her away. Push her away like everybody else. The guys…his friends…she belonged in that group now. The “I can’t handle it” group, as JC had so affectionately named it when he had last spoken to him.

Jerk.

“You have an hour.”

Justin looked over his shoulder. Karen had entered the room, a portable phone in her hand. “You may call your mother, Justin…but nobody else.” She handed the phone to him.

He almost rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to call anybody else. Well…maybe his father, but that could wait. Right now, the only person he wanted to talk to was momma. He wanted to hear her voice. He wanted her to come and take him out of here. She would understand…she would say yes. He would be gone by tomorrow and in his own bed by tomorrow afternoon. “Fine,” he told her. He flicked the phone on, and frantically dialed the familiar digits. He glanced at Karen, while listening to the burr of the ring tone. “Can I be alone?” he asked.

She stared at him for a moment, before speaking again. “I suppose,” she sighed. She turned to leave, but then looked back over her shoulder. “I’m trusting you Justin.”

He nodded. “I know that.”

“Good.” She left.

He heard somebody pick up. “Hello?”

It was momma. He felt like crying. “M-mom,” he choked out.

“Justin!” she exclaimed. “My…what a surprise!”

“I love you.” It was the only thing he could think of to say at that moment. There were so many emotions bottled up inside of him…more than he realized. Hearing her voice…it made him relax a bit. It made him want to unleash all those feelings. He looked over his shoulder. Karen had closed the door. He let the tears seep out.

He heard her smile. “I-I love you too baby.”

“Momma,” he managed. “Momma, I miss you so much.”

She was silent for a moment. Justin listened hard. He was sure he could hear her sob a little bit.

“Karen told me you…you took a step today,” she said finally.

He smiled. “Yes.”

“I’m so proud of you honey,” she said softly. “So proud.”

“See,” he said. “I’m gonna be fine mom. Why don’t you just come get me? I mean, I’m sure I can take all this stuff that I’ve learned and put it to use at home, on my own.”

“Oh Justin,” she sighed. “You know I can’t--”

He cut her off. “Like hell you can’t,” he whispered. “You hired this lady…you…you left me here to rot. There’s no reason why you can’t take me outta here. Mom…I hate it here. I really really---”

“Justin Randall!”

He stopped talking. He was wrong. He was wrong and he had upset his mother, who was probably under as much stress as he was…if not more. “I’m sorry mom,” he whimpered. “I’m just…I’m scared.”

“I know you are,” she said. “And I’m scared for you…every minute.”

“I want to come home mom,” he whispered. “If-if you let me…I promise…I won’t be a burden like before. I’ll do for myself momma…please,” he sobbed. “Please let me come back home.”

“Justin, please don’t make this harder than it has to be. You’re not a burden…that’s not why I put you where you are. I put you there, because Karen is a great doctor…somebody that can help you regain your strength. Don’t you want your life back Justin?”

He was silent for a moment. “Yes.”

“Then this is the way to get it back.”

“This can’t be the only way.”

He heard her sigh. “No. But it’s the best way.”

She wasn’t giving in. He chewed his bottom lip. Why wasn’t she giving in? His entire life, she had always done anything he had asked of her. Now though…she was totally ignoring the fact that he was miserable. “You must not care then.”

“I’m not going to do this with you, Justin,” she said softly. “Karen said you might be bitter…and that--”

“Screw Karen!” he yelled. “She’s not part of us…of our family. She doesn’t decide what happens in our family. What? Did she brainwash you…like she tried to do to me?”

“I need to go,” she whispered. “I will speak to you soon baby. I love you.”

He gasped. “Momma…momma no.”

“I love you.”

“Mom!”

Justin pulled the phone away from his ear. He stared at it, hearing the monotonous dial tone blaring out of the earpiece.

“Brrrr…” He couldn’t believe his mother had done this…hung up on him. He closed his eyes. “Brrr…”

His eyes snapped open. He was shaking…sweating. “No!” He threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall forcefully, and smashed. “Fuck,” he buried his head in his hands. The sobs came quickly, along with the tears. He found that he couldn’t stop crying.

“Shhh,” a voice said. “It’s okay.”

He felt that warm hand on his face again. He opened his eyes. Sheridan. “Just go ‘way,” he got out.

She shook her head. “Just cry Justin,” she said. “I’m here, and I’m staying.”

Even though he wanted to push her out, he leaned into her anyway “Leave!” he moaned. “Just leave…like her…like my mother! Just go!”

He felt her lips on the top of his head. He couldn’t feel anything, but this time, he didn’t get scared. He closed his eyes. “Leave,” he whispered.

“I’m not leaving,” she said sternly.

He looked up at her. “Why not?” he asked her.

“Because you’re my friend, and I care about you.”

“She doesn’t care,” he cried. “Momma doesn’t care.”

“But she does,” Sheridan whispered. “That’s why she put you here.”

“I can’t stand this place.”

“That’s my fault,” she sighed. “And I’m sorry.”

He looked up, and stared into her eyes. “It’s not your fault.”

“I kissed you,” she told him. “You trusted me with so much, Justin…and I-I took advantage of that.”

He tore his gaze from hers for a moment, and wiped the tears out of his eyes. For the first time today, he felt like talking about it. “Why’d…you do that to me?”

“I…I thought it would help,” she said, but then shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She thought it would help? He didn’t understand. How could a kiss help him? A kiss couldn’t make him walk…it couldn’t make him piss. Hell, it couldn’t even make him horny. He stared at her. There were tears on her face now too. He reached up and brushed them away. “Don’t you start crying too,” he said, through his own tears.

She grasped his hand. “Tell me…you’re not mad anymore,” she whispered. “Please.”

He was shocked that him being mad had upset her so much. “I’m…I’m not mad at you Sher.”

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” she said, after a moment.

He half smiled, and squeezed her hand. “Don’t be.” He watched her frown fade into a smile. He was glad that one of them was smiling now. It lightened the mood. “Hey,” he whispered. “How about that movie?”

“That’d be great.”

He sucked in a breath. Maybe, Sheridan wasn’t in the “I can’t handle it” group after all. No…she was in the “Doesn’t give up, so I guess I’ll put up with her/him,” group. It was a fresh start, to a blossoming friendship.

And it was better than only having imaginary Trace to chat with, that was for sure.