The girl had energy, that was for sure. Sheridan didn’t need to scan the crowd to find her friend. Because Marcy was everywhere. Clicking, and clacking, and jangling. She had bags and other gear hanging off of her…swinging and swaying. Her flips flops clapped annoyingly against the floor. “Sher!” Marcy called out. She raised her arm, and her shirt lifted up past her navel. Her stomach hung out, and Sheridan was sure she had put on a few more pounds since the last time she had seen her. Not that Marcy had ever been thin, it was quite the contrary. Marcy was one of those girls who over ate…and never exercised. But her weight had never gotten the best of her. She still wore skimpy tank tops…and short little skirts. She got a lot of dates too. She was so bubbly, and full of life…the guys on campus didn’t seem to notice how unappealing she looked in the clothes she wore.

Sheridan wished she could be more like her. “Hey,” she smiled, waving to her friend. She watched as Marcy forcefully pushed her way through the mass of people she was surrounded by, causing several annoyances along her way. She was oblivious to it though, as always. Finally, she broke through the crowd. Sheridan couldn’t help but laugh. Her shirt said “I’m going to EL-LAY!”

“Omigod.”

The classic first line.

“Sheridan, the sandwich they gave me has mold on it.” She clip-clopped over to her, and pulled the sandwich out of one of her many bags. “Just look.” She proceeded to unwrap it.

“Oh god…” Sheridan stuck out her hand. “Please don’t.”

“But just look!” She whined.

With a sigh, and a cringe, Sheridan gave in. She peered inside the wrapper, and shot Marcy a confused glance.

“Isn’t it gross?” Marcy gasped. “I’m going to show the airline people here.”

“Marcy,” Sheridan began, chuckling a little. “That’s pesto.”

“What?” Marcy looked at her sandwich. “Pesto? What the hell is that? A fungus?”

She laughed out loud. “It’s a sandwich spice dumb ass.”

Marcy frowned, dipped her finger in the gook ,and stuck it in her mouth. “You know,” she said after a moment. “I think I’ve had this before.”

“You’re too much Marcy,” Sheridan smiled, taking a few her bags for her. “So, other than the pesto fiasco…how was your flight?”

“Well…for starters I had this really annoying guy sitting next to me. All he did was talk on that damn air-phone the whole way. I mean, he didn’t sleep…at all…and it wouldn’t have been so bad, except he was talking so damn loud! So then, because of that, I had to resort to watching the movie they were showing. And oh God Sher…they showed freaking Bridges of Madison County. Snore!”

“Well you wanted to fall asleep didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t. It was so boring it kept me up. I can’t wait to get to your house and crash,” she yawned. “God, does it smell like cheese in here or is it just me?”

Marcy was talking a mile a minute. Sheridan was glad. It was like a breath of fresh air…and it was taking her mind off of Justin…and what had happened in the car before.

“Oh look! It‘s People Magazine.”

“Huh?” Marcy was pointing at the magazine stand. Sheridan knew it could only mean one thing. She groaned inwardly. She should have known that Justin would come into the conversation sooner or later. She was nervous. Marcy still had no idea that Justin was in her house at this very moment. And she had no idea how she was going to tell her. If Marcy was getting this excited over a magazine, there was no telling how she would react once she laid eyes on him at the house. She would probably wet herself again. Or worse…faint.

“Come on!” she shrieked, taking Sheridan by the arm and pulling her toward the stand.

“No,” she blurted out. “We…we don’t have time.”

“But look!” she whined, pointing childishly at the magazine. “It’s Justin.”

She peered at the cover. At the very top there was a small picture of him. The headline read Justin Timberlake: the last pictures. “How did you spot that so quick?” she whispered.

“I’ve been waiting for it to come out! They have photos of his last public appearance. I’ve actually seen some of the pictures on the computer already. Sher…they’re so cute.” She snatched the magazine off of the rack and frantically began thumbing through it.

Sheridan snatched the magazine from her friend and put it back on the rack before she could get into any more gory details. “Not now.”

Marcy cocked her head to the side. “What’s the matter with you?”

Sheridan sighed. “I’m just tired. I’ve had a long day.”

Marcy gave in. She picked up her baggage with a reluctant sigh. “Hard day with the clientele?”

“You could say that,” she whispered.

“I know what’ll cheer you up,” Marcy perked up.

“What’s that?” she muttered.

“Justified.”

She felt her heart skip a beat. Why? Why did Marcy have to be infatuated with Justin…why did Justin have to be at her house? Why did she have to kiss him that day? Why did she still want to despite all of this? “You aren’t playing that,” she said.

Marcy giggled. “We’ll see.”

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

It had been a long ride. But now it was over…and now they were here. Sheridan turned shut off the engine, and let out a tired sigh.

“Woo!” Marcy exclaimed. “Sleep!”

Sheridan laughed. “You could have slept on the way up here.”

“Yeah but like…I heard that’s dangerous to do,” Marcy said. “It can make the driver tired. Like Justin…he fell asleep at the wheel…and I’m sure you know what happened to him. I didn‘t want that to happen to you Sher.”

Normally, Sheridan would have laughed, and told Marcy she worried too much. But now she was talking about Justin, and what had happened to him. He fell asleep at the wheel? He had never told her that. But then again, he refused to talk about the night of his accident anyway. She had assumed he hadn’t been paying attention to what he was doing…and she had a hunch that Trace had been in the car with him. But that was all they were…assumptions and hunches. She couldn’t be sure of anything. She shook her head vigorously. Stop thinking about it.

“Sheridan,” Marcy said. “Are you okay?”

And Marcy still didn’t know. She didn’t know that Justin Timberlake was inside that house. She didn’t know that tonight was Saturday night, and Justin was allowed to stay up as late as he wanted to. She didn’t know that he was probably still awake, watching a movie or sitting in front of the computer or the piano. “Yes,” she got out.

“You’re lying,” Marcy nodded. “Come Sheridan, I’ve lived with you for like…four years. You know you can’t get past me with that bullshit now.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “I guess…I need to tell you this.”

Marcy looked confused. “Tell me what?”

Sheridan was silent for a moment.

“Sheridan Williams!” Marcy gasped. “Did you…have sex?”

“Omigod.” Now she was laughing. “Marcy…get serious.”

“You did didn’t you!” She shouted. “You did the deed…you popped the cherry! See…I told you that you wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Who was it? Some guy around here? Tell me! Please!”

“Marcy!” Sheridan yelled, angrily. “I did not have sex!”

Marcy frowned. “Oh,” she whispered. “No?”

Sheridan sighed. “No…it’s something else.”

“Well,” Marcy said, her eyes full of curiosity. “Don’t just sit there. Tell me!”

“You have to promise not freak out, Marcy.” Sheridan told her.

“Why would I freak out?” Marcy asked. “Christ, it’s not like Justin is here or anything.”

Sheridan moaned loudly. “Why me?”

“Girl…what the hell is up with you?” Marcy chuckled. “You’re starting to scare me. And that’s saying a lot…because I’m usually the one that scares you.”

“My mother’s client,” she began. “He’s…oh God I should have told you this over the phone.”

“Sheridan! I’ma slap you if you don’t tell me right now!”

She meant it. Sheridan took a deep breath. “Justin Timberlake is in my house right now.”

Marcy was silent.

“Marcy?”

“Okay…now tell me the truth,” she laughed.

Sheridan didn’t smile. “I am telling you the truth.” She stared intensely into Marcy’s eyes, trying to get her message across.

“Omigod.” Marcy gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re really serious.”

“You can’t freak out,” Sheridan repeated. “I mean it Marcy. My mom will kill me. And Justin…I mean, I told him about you…but I still don’t think he’s comfortable with the whole idea of meeting a new person. Especially a fan.”

“You told him about me!” Marcy exclaimed. “He knows who I am? Jesus Christ Sher! I wish you had told me…look at me…I look like total crap! Take me somewhere, anywhere. I need to…”

“Marcy!,” she yelled, cutting her off. “You’re freaking out.”

“Oh,” she said, calming down a bit. “Sorry.”

“Look,” Sheridan said. “You’re my best friend, Marcy. I trust you, and I know you can be mature if you try really hard. I know I never got into your whole obsession with Justin, but I do know that he’s not going to be the guy you’re used to seeing. He’s…”

“I know,” Marcy whispered.

Sheridan nodded, but said nothing more. The look on Marcy’s face was enough to tell her that she wasn’t going to walk into the house and beg him for an autograph, or a serenade. She still looked shocked of course…but Sheridan expected that. Marcy would be able to control herself. She was sure of it…and that was good enough. “Come on,” she smiled weakly.

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

Bedhead: You’re not supposed to be talking to me are you?

Gumshoe0131: They let me use the computer on Saturdays.

Bedhead: Oh…well, as long as it’s cool.

Justin knew he was breaking the rules. But he didn’t care. He needed to talk to somebody…and he couldn’t use the phone. It wasn’t totally a lie. Karen had been letting him use the computer on Saturday evenings. But she had told him he wasn’t supposed to be talking to any of his friends or family. Usually, she would keep tabs on him. Monitoring what he was doing…what sites he was going to. He wasn’t supposed to use the computer after she went to bed…but tonight he was. He didn’t care if he got caught. If he did, the most Karen could do was revoke his computer privileges. He would survive. After looking over his shoulder to ensure the coast was clear, he continued his conversation with JC

Gumshoe0131: So tell me what’s been going on.

Bedhead: Going on? Well aside from warding off the press every few days…not much. I’ve been doing some recording. Joey’s been busy with Kelly. Chris has been doing some club shows. Lance…well you know Lance…little player that he is.

Gumshoe0131: I never thought he would be the party animal that he is now.

Bedhead: Tell me about it. We actually all got together last Friday. We went to Lorenzo’s. It was cool ya know?

Justin bit his bottom lip. He felt so left out. Why was JC telling him this? Didn’t he know how much it hurt him inside that he wasn’t able to go?

Gumshoe0131: Yeah. I bet you had fun.

Bedhead: It would have been better if you were there.

He rolled his eyes. What a crock of shit. That’s right Jace…say anything to make the guilt go away.

Gumshoe0131: Sure. So what else?

Bedhead: I ran into Elisha…she was filming. She came with us that night. She asked about you.

Justin chuckled sadly.

Gumshoe0131: Why did she go with you?

Bedhead: I don't know. I just ran into her, and asked her if she wanted to go. She seemed like she could use some company.

Justin gasped. He asked her out? JC was lucky he was stuck here…or else he would have made him sorry.

Gumshoe0131: Stay away from her. She’s engaged.

Bedhead: Oh come on Justin. It was only dinner…and besides, she needs to start moving on with her life too.

Gumshoe0131: You’re a disrespectful prick.

Bedhead: Justin, come on. You know it’s not like that.

He signed off. He couldn’t believe him. He couldn’t believe her. Trace was dead and buried and all either of them could do was try and forget about him. Why did everybody want to forget about him?

He wasn’t going to forget about him.

He heard the familiar sound of a door opening and closing a moment later. He cringed. He knew Sheridan was home…with that girl. He didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to meet her stupid friend. He was still angry. Angry that at her…angry that she had been so willing to break the rules and kiss him yesterday, and then say that she couldn’t do it today. He was angry at himself for letting her inside…letting her close. It was the one thing he had promised himself he wouldn’t do. But he had done it.

And now he was paying for it.

The light went on in the adjoining room. He heard two girls giggling. He wheeled himself to the doorway, and looked out. There was Sheridan…and there was her friend, Margo. No, not Margo…Marcy.. They both seemed exhausted, but happy at the same time. It was familiar to him. He remembered the nights he and Trace had spent like this. Out at the club all night…then back to the hotel late. Sometimes they would be too drunk to enjoy the quiet, but then the other times…the rare occasions where they hadn’t drunk themselves into oblivion, they would just sit and listen to the peaceful quiet of the room. Sometimes Trace would say “Dude…you could fart right now, and nobody would know.” Then he would fart, they would both laugh…and then they would fall asleep.

He watched them plop down onto the couch. Sheridan picked up the remote, and turned on the television.

“So…is he nice?”

“He’s just a guy,” Sheridan shrugged.

“He was nice when I met him,” Marcy yawned.

“Can you stop obsessing please?” Sheridan grumbled. “He’s just a person…not a God.”

They were talking about him. Justin frowned. They shouldn’t have been talking about him like that. He didn’t like it. He wheeled himself forward, into the light of the adjoining room. Sheridan didn’t’ seem to notice…but Marcy did. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth gaped a little. For a moment, he forgot about his anger, and allowed himself to smile. He had forgotten what this felt like. To be looked at by somebody as if you were the most beautiful, wonderful thing they had ever seen. He realized that she didn’t care if he was in a wheelchair. He was still ‘Justin Timberlake, Pop Superstar‘, in her eyes. “Hi,” he said.

Sheridan looked over at him. She seemed a little surprised. “Mom knows you’re up still?”

“You’re Marcy right?” he said, ignoring Sheridan’s comment.

“I…” she began, eyeing Sheridan quickly. “Yes.”

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled. He saw her eyes widen even more. This was great. “How was your flight?”

“It was really, really great,” she said, dreamily.

“Okay!” Sheridan blurted out suddenly. She stood up. “Marcy, Justin…Justin, Marcy.” She walked over to him and grabbed onto his handle bars. “Say goodnight,” she told him.

“Goodnight,” he smiled cockily, and gave Marcy a little wave. Marcy didn’t respond. He knew she was too shocked to. Now he was being wheeled out of the room, and down the hallway toward his own room. “You can stop now,” he told her. “I’m not ready for bed.”

“Just let us get settled,” she said. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Screw you,” he seethed, looking up at her. “This is my night. It’s not my fault that you’re not comfortable around me. If you didn’t want me to be around you two tonight, you should have said something today. But…oh…oh yeah…you were too busy breaking my heart right?”

“Justin, that’s not what this is about and you know it,” Sheridan interrupted. “If you want to talk about this maturely then fine…but don’t try to make me feel guilty about it. I’m just as confused as you are.” She turned into his bedroom, and closed the door. “Are you comfortable that way?” she asked him, referring to his clothes.

“I’m hot,” he said. “Can I change?”

“Fine,” she muttered, opening up one of his drawers.

“Shorts Sher…that’s all.”

“You’ll freeze,” she told him. “You have to wear a top.”

“No,” he said. “Just give me what I want.”

“You’re not getting sick,” Sheridan said, turning back to the drawer. “If you get sick, you’ll lose energy…and then you won’t be able to do anything.”

“Who cares,” he muttered.

“I do.”

He glared at her. “Bull.”

“Damn it!“ She slammed the drawer shut. It made a loud whack, that echoed throughout the room.

Justin jumped a little. He hadn’t expected her to get so angry.

She threw him his shorts. “I do care! I never said I didn‘t. I said…I said what we were doing wasn‘t right. It‘s not…it‘s going against everything I‘ve been taught not to do.”

“But you said screw the rules Sheridan,” he grumbled. “You’re not supposed to say one thing and then do the other.”

“I didn’t want to Justin. I’m just…I’m scared okay? I’m scared about a lot of things…not just about breaking the rules.”

“Tell me what you’re scared of,” he grunted.

“Why?” She shook her head. “Tell me why I should.”

He glanced at the floor, and back at her again. “Because I wanna be with you,” he whispered.

“You…” she began. “You’re not ready for any kind of relationship Justin. Especially with me.”

“How can you say that? You’re not me…you don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“Justin…you can’t even get past what happened to you. You need to focus on yourself…not on me.”

“I can get past it,” he defended.

Sheridan placed her hands on her hips. “Then tell me what happened the night of your accident,” she whispered.

He knew he couldn’t tell her…not yet. He wanted to be mad at her. But the look she was giving him was making it hard for him to be. She did care. There was no doubt about it. He knew she cared so much, that she was afraid of what would happen if she let herself fall for him. She was afraid that he would be distracted. She was afraid that one of them might get hurt in the end. He couldn’t blame her, because he felt the same way. “I’m scared too Sheridan,” he said finally.

She looked at him. It was a look of understanding. “Can we slow down?” she asked him softly. “Just a little bit? Can‘t we just…wait?”

He wheeled himself a little closer to her. “What are we waiting for Sher? For me to miraculously get up and walk around the house? It ain‘t happening.”

She shot him an annoyed glance. “That’s right…it’s not. And it’s never going to if you’re busy paying attention to me, instead of your therapy.”

“She’s right you know.” Trace stepped out of the darkness, and in front of Sheridan, blocking Justin‘s view of her. “Tell her she’s right, Justin.”

“No,” he grumbled.

“Yes,” Sheridan said. She pulled a shirt out of his drawer, and tossed it to him. The shirt flew through Trace’s body and landed on Justin’s lap. “Put that on.”

“Do I need to go over all the reasons why this girl is no good for you again?” Trace asked him, stepping closer to him. “Cut her off while you still can Justin. Please. If not for your sake…then do it for mine.”

“Stop!” he whined. “I won’t do it.”

“You’re so damn stubborn,” Sheridan grumbled.

She walked forward, and stepped through Trace just then. Justin saw him snicker a little bit, before vanishing. He shook his head. Trace was being an asshole. Who was he to tell him he couldn’t have feelings for Sheridan? It was his life…his choice. Trace was wrong, and he was going to make that clear next time. He groaned inwardly…He’s not real you fuckin’ freak show.

“Is it cold in here?,” Sheridan said after a moment.

Justin looked up at her. She was shivering. He didn’t understand. It wasn’t cold in the room…it was warm. It was why he hadn’t wanted to wear a shirt to bed in the first place. “No,” he said.

She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her hands up and down her shoulders. “Really? I swear…it’s freezing in here Justin. How can you not want to wear a shirt?” She took the shirt from his lap. “Come on…I’m not gonna leave you alone about this. Just put the shirt on.”

“Fine,” he said. He lifted his arms, and let her pull his shirt over his head. He was barely paying attention to anything she was saying in the meantime, however. He was too busy recalling a memory, that usually would have been meaningless…

Up until now.

He had been on a flight headed to New York. He remembered being so bored, he began reading some book that Chris had shoved in his bag just hours before. It was a book about ghosts. He didn’t remember a lot of the stuff the book talked about, but right now…one part was standing out in his mind. There was a chapter about looking for signs of a ghost. It had gone on to say that people became very cold when they were being haunted, or had just been haunted. The book quoted that it felt like “an icy touch”.

But if Trace was a ghost, then why didn’t he ever get cold when Trace came around?

“Justin.”

He looked up at her. “You still cold?”

“Oh…no, it passed,” she chuckled. “I guess it was just one of those things.”

He became uneasy. “I guess so.” He let her help him slip into his boxers, and then into his bed.

“Are we okay now?” Sheridan asked him, as she detached the catheter bag from his leg.

“Dunno,” he said, looking away from here. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Grumpy Bear,” she smiled, applying his new bag to the catheter and attaching it the bedpost. “You can’t lie to me.”

He tried not to smile. He tried so hard. But he got a kick out of that nickname…every time. He let a smile escape him. “I know,” he said.

She gave him a kiss on the forehead. “You understand my concerns about this, Justin. I know you do.”

He closed his eyes. “You’re right.” He felt the soothing touch of her hand on his face. “But I don’t have to like it.”

“Give it some time,” he heard her say. “I didn’t say that it will never happen. I just said that right now…it’s not the best idea, that’s all. I’ll see you in the morning. Then you can show Marcy how you make omelets.”

He felt her pull away from him. He opened his eyes, and watched her walk over to the door. “Sher,” he whispered.

She opened the door, and looked back at him. “Yeah?”

He sighed. “It’s not because…I’m like this right?”

“Justin,” she smiled. “You’re beautiful the way you are.”

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” she told him. “Goodnight Justin.”

He smiled. For the first time since they had fought that day, he felt like everything was normal between them again. “Goodnight Sheridan.”