"Man, they gave her Tylenol with fucking CODEINE?" JC shrieks.
"No, the script was for that and gave her 800 mg of motrin at the office. How are we going to deal with this? She's dead to the world and her phone has been going off non-stop," I tell my best friend.
His hand slides over his face, stopping so that his forefinger rests over his nose, his thumb is on the side of his face and the other three fingers are covering his mouth along with his palm. "How long has she been out?"
"She's been out cold for 18 hours."
He glances at his watch and calculates. "It happened around, what, four?"
"She sprained her ankle around noon, gave her the motrin by two and had some of that shit by four because the motrin was wearing off," I inform him, pointing to the orange prescription bottle. I know this for the simple reason that I had spent the entire time with her-from the second Lonnie got me to now. I hear her cell go off again and I answer it. "Hello?"

"Is Sam there?" a guy's voice asks.
"Who the fuck are you to ask for my girlfriend?" I demand, assholishly.
"Aaron," he answers as simply as possible.
I feel like a douche. "Sorry, man. She sprained her ankle and is down for the count."
"Low pain threshold?"
"No, more pain than usual."
"Tylenol with 'deine?"
"Yeah, how do you know?"
"She got it when she... Never mind, she was showing off and got hurt."
"Spare me the details," I say, a smile creeping across my face.
"Not that way."
"Nope, but I think I know how it happened."
"How?"
"Your brother," I cryptically say.
"She told you?" he questions.
"That he dared her to do something retarded and she got hurt? Yeah."
"He didn't intend on her being injured." 
"I figured that. When was this?"
"June, during the first week last year."
"How long was she out?"
"I think they said something about a day and a half."
For almost being eleven, he pays a hell of alot of attention. "We have another day to go through?" I palm slap my forehead.
"Yeah, and if you wake her up before that, make sure you have regular Tylenol or some Advil. She's a baby for the first three days."
"I will, thanks," I reply, ending the call. "Do you know if we have regular Tylenol or some Advil, JC?"
I pull him out of his thoughts. "Lance usually has some in his carry on."
I grab my cell, plugging in Jazz's in the same motion and dial the all too familiar number for Lance's cell. "Hey, Justin."
"Please tell me you have Tylenol or Advil," I plead.
"Doesn't she have that?"
"It has codeine."
"The knockout mix," he comments, quietly chuckling.
"Yeah, haha. Do you have some?"
"Yes."
"I'll come get it," I tell him hurriedly and hang up. "If she happens to wake up, tell her I'll be right back please?"
"Yeah, man, go," he assures me, pushing me toward the door.
I run down the hall to Lance's room and knock. He opens the door and lets me in as he reaches into his carry on for it, knowing exactly where it is because of how meticulous he is. "Why do you need it?"

"Jazz. Talked to Aaron and he said to have regular ibuprofen or deal with a whiny and in pain Jazz. What would you rather deal with a mildly whiny Jazz or a major bitch due to pain Jazz? Personally, mildly whiny is my choice. What about you?" I quip.
"Take the Advil and go, mildly whiny is better than bitch mode Jazz any day," he says, shoving  a  bottle of Advil into my hands. "There should be enough for a week or two."
I smile, thanking him, and dart for my room where she's knocked the fuck out. I get the dose and a bottle of OJ ready before I wake her. "Jazz," I call her name as shake her gently.
"Ten minutes more," she mutters, still out like a light. JC wraps his finger and thumb around her injured ankle, causing her to jump, clearly in pain, startled awake. She whomps JC with a pillow, whipping it from under her head. "You mother fucking jackass! Touch it again and I'm going to fucking kill you!" she guarantees, glaring at him with dagger throwing eyes.
"Baby J, here's some Advil and OJ. The Advil is for pain and the OJ is to help you get better, it has calcium added."

Her head snaps in my direction and she sighs, wincing in pain. "Gimme those," she whines, indicating the Advil and juice. 
"Here," I say, handing her two Advil and the juice.
She gulps half the bottle of juice, puts the advil in her mouth, chugs the rest and swallows.

"Thanks, J." She sits back against the headboard, waiting for it to kick in before moving or saying anything to me or JC. Twenty minutes later, she finally says something. "Don't touch my injured ankle, especially when I'm drugged on codeine."
"You have to do the exercises and the doctor said massage helps it heal, something about it promoting blood flow."
"I know. It's got to wait until after the third day after it happens."
"You're a bitch when you're in pain," JC observes.
She shrugs and turns to me, rolling her eyes. "What needs to be done for the show tonight?"
"Rehearsal in a couple hours, dress rehearsal included."
"I can't help James focus," she glumly states, an irritated look settling on her face.
"You can always cheer him on," JC suggests. He was always better at this kind of thing.
I keep my mouth shut and it's because I know I could always give us away in ten words or less, even more so right now. She thinks for a minute. "I guess so." It must have been enough to satisfy him due to the simple fact that he's heading out the door. I help her set up her stuff for a shower and she kicks me out of the bathroom, making sure to grab her charging cell in the process.

I pick up my cell and call an all too familiar number back home. "Hello?"
"Hey," I say, sounding depressed.
"Why so glum, chum?" he questions.
"Well, I don't know about all this."
"Your thing with this chick?"
"Yeah, that's exactly it. I know her guard is up and she told me a few things she hasn't told Lance and JC yet, but there's something major she's keeping from me," I tell him, an edge crawling into my tone sneakily.
"I don't know what to tell you, J."
"What would you do?"
"Depends on the circumstances."
"I know her ex wants her to tour with him, his group and his little brother starting a couple days before New Year's."
"You trust her?"
"I don't trust him."
"Don't stress it."
"She just fucked up her ankle yesterday, codeine is her KO cocktail."
"Ok, anyone tell you anything about her?"
"Her ex's little brother told me," I confess.
"What's that?" 
"She's a baby for the first three days and I better have Advil or Tylenol on me."

"It's a start. Last time I talked to her, she trusts you more than ever and wants to let you in, but is scared cuz of the asshole that broke her heart. She said she gave him everything and he 'shattered' her heart."
"I know the whole story."
"Then you understand why she's so guarded."
"I do, when it comes to that. It's when it comes to the level of comfort she shares with Lance that I don't."
"Justin, it's probably going to be a long time before she explains it and you might be one of the last ones to know. Maybe even JC and our friend might be the last few to know, you know how your mom is."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Trace."
"I have to get to work, man."
"Talk to you later."
"For sure."

We hang up and I hear the shower turn off, signaling that I have maybe fifteen minutes before she calls for my help. I call another number from back home before remembering she's not there and I hang up halfway through dialing to call her cell. Goes to voice mail, so I leave a short message: "Hey, it's Justin. Call me back. Just being a friend and checking on my childhood munchkin." I chuckle and hang up, knowing that she's going to call me and be just a little pissed that I called her a munchkin.
Derek does his rhythmic knock and I open the door. "Five minutes, man."
"Ten? Jazz."
"Fine."
"Thanks," I respond, clapping my hand to his shoulder and smiling. 
I close the door and knock on the bathroom one. "Yeah, Justin?"
"We have ten before we have to go."
"Be out in five... I hope." She might be feeling a bit sick to her stomach because she has been out cold for close to a whole day and that means she hasn't eaten since just before it happened, if that.
"Ok, baby." I plop down on the bed we shared a night or two before after Lance had fallen asleep and she had snuck out of their room to cuddle me, only to wake up earlier than him to sneak back into their room to 'sleep' in her bed before he got up. She usually stays in my bunk with me on the bus, claiming that my breathing pacified her into sleep. She's a quick thinker and she's always on her A game.
"Honey?" she calls out to me, her Mississippian drawl revealing itself.
"Yes, baby?"
"I can't get my freaking sock on my foot."
I smile and shake my head on the way into the bathroom. I open the door and she looks beyond frustrated and pissed, holding a sock in her hand. I notice the ace bandage is a bit tight on her ankle and I fix it before I put her sock on her injured foot. "All set," I tell her, silently asking for a kiss.
She gives me one and laces her fingers with mine while she does. "Thanks, love," she says after, making sure I see gratitude in her eyes and she sees my smile. "You're a sweetie and so good for me."
"I'm also good to you."
"That you are, Timbs." She hurriedly puts her shoe on her right foot and her slipper on the other.
"Ready to go?"
"I suppose," she facetiously remarks, a smile spreads over her features. 

I smile and roll my eyes, lightly laughing to myself. "Have you decided if you're going to tour with dickface, his crew and his brother yet?"
"No, I haven't. I have another 35 days to decide."
"You're just like JC."
"Am not!"
"You are."
"Not."
"Too."
"Are not."
"Are too."
Derek hears the argument venture into the hall and falling into step with us, asking the most important question, "What's this argument about, if you don't mind me asking?"
I quickly glance at him and continue the disagreement. "You are too just like JC when it comes to making decisions-wait till the last minute and then make a last, split second choice."
"Fuck you!" she fires back, her most common answer resulting on her right hand as she jabs the elevator button with the other, using her crutches to support her. Yeah, she has crutches to help her remain her independent self while her ankle heals over the next few weeks.
"Not quite yet," I taunt.
"You're such a damn tease."
"What about a tease?" 
I whip around to see Lance and I smile. "I told her I have chocolate and I wasn't going to share," I say, quickly inventing a prevarication.
"Don't think I don't know where you hide your sweets when you get them."
"I bet she already knows," Chris informs us.
She smiles and boards the elevator with us following close behind. Joey and JC must be downstairs already, impatiently waiting for us to get down there to make the mad dash to the van. "Actually, I do know. I figured it out the morning we hit the Globe Theatre," she tells us, handing Joey her crutches as I crouch down so she could get a piggy back to the van for the simple fact that I can move faster with her on my back than she can hobbling on her crutches.
~~~~~

Not only did we have to make a mad dash from the hotel to the van, but also to the van after rehearsal, to rehearsal and the hotel as well. Jazz got piggy back rides from me, JC and Lance. Lance gave her the one into the hotel room, he had to talk to her about something, I think.
The whole time we were at rehearsal and during the show, she cheered all of us on and taped our rehearsal since Joey's brother, Steve, has a cold. The five of us can't risk getting it, so she had Joey get the camera. She also had the gall to have him wipe it down with Lysol wipes and use hand sanitizer before she would even touch it, my guess is to ensure the six of us don't get sick. I know if she'd get sick, she kisses me and I get sick; I'd sneeze on JC and he'd get sick; he'd cough and Chris would get it; Chris would subconsciously wipe his nose with his hand and touch a door knob; Lance would touch it later and get sick; then Joey would unknowingly get it somehow and be sicker than a dog. It usually happens like that, not exactly that way though. Either way, it's not fun and it spreads like wild fire.

She spoke to the Boys and Aaron during our show about the touring thing and her stipulations. She's still weighing the pros and cons of the matter, she has half a single subject notebook filled with them. She's just as bad as Lance with how meticulous she can be. "How long are you going to put it off for?"
"Till Christmas Eve, but I'm leaning on going as long as for your birthdays and during breaks I'm with you guys," she tells me. 
Right now we're lying in my bunk and talking about her going on tour with the Boys. My phone rings and it's my best friend from home. "Hey, what's up?"
"Munchkin? I'll give you fucking munchkin when I kick your fucking ass!" she screams at me.
I laugh wholeheartedly at her declaration. "I missed you too. You realize it's almost midnight?"
"It's not here," she informs me. "I hear you're dating someone?" she asks, her tone sharp.
"Yes, she's a good girl and has been through hell. I heard you're also involved, girl."
"Yeah, I am. It's my business."
"Whatever, you'll tell me eventually or I'll catch you guys together, doing boyfriend/girlfriend things like kissing."
"Yeah, yeah. He is so sweet, but he's been talking about this girl and I don't like it."
"Tell him."
"I have to find out who it is first!"
"Ask his brothers and sisters," I suggest.
"I am today, I'm asking Aaron. He tells me everything."
"Aaron, huh?" I inquire, looking at Jazz. She only shakes her head and shrugs, not giving a damn about who he's dating. I think my best friend is dating my girlfriend's ex.
"Yes, his little brother's name is Aaron."
"I guess that's cool. Hope he treats you better than his ex."
"Why, do you know her?"
"Yeah, you could say I do."
"Could I talk to her?"
"Hold on."
"Ok."
I put it on mute and look at Jazz. "I think my friend is dating Nick."
"So? It's her choice and her stupidity."
"She wants to talk to you."

She rolls her eyes at almost lightening speed. "Fine, give me." She sighs as I hand her my cell, unmuting it after she sighed. "Hello? What do you want to know? Who is 'he'?" She nods. "It's his ex and he wants to find out if she's willing to tour with him and the Boys. He wants to rebuild a friendship and she wants nothing to do with him. She's probably going to go to support Aaron and the other four Boys. For all she cares, he can rot in a grave. Never again and it's between him and her. They're done and will remain just that, done," she says with a tone of finality. She really does loathe whoever they're talking about, no doubts about that, and there's only a few people she dislikes that much: her ex, her biological dad and 3 other people that she won't disclose to anyone. That narrows the list dramatically, leaving only five people in the world and her life. "You're welcome. Have a nice day or night or whatever. Bye." She hangs up my cell and puts it in my hand, relaxing. "He conned another intelligent girl into believing that he cares and loves her. He's such an asshole. I just wish he'd drop dead."

"If he did, he'd either be your equivalent of Freddy, Chucky, Jason or Drop Dead Fred."
"That's not funny because he would be my personal Freddy," she groans, serious.