"Lynni," I whisper, putting an elf hat with bells on.
She turns around and chortles at the sight. "Timbs, that sight was the biggest contradiction I've seen and funny to boot."
I shoot her a half smile, getting a huge one in return. I can't explain how I feel when she's around, but it's not love. I enjoy her company, appreciate her sense humor, and embrace her personality. We share an awesome friendship, but it's nothing beyond that and we both reached the conclusion together months ago. I pull her by her arm and wrap her in a hug, a warm one. "Thanks, Lynni."
"What for?"
"Putting up with our shit," I tell her, placing a kiss on top of her head.
"I've put up with James' bull shit long enough to where it doesn't matter and you guys mean too much to let you walk out of my life."
Justifiable. She reaches up and caresses my cheek before looking at Lance around my arm. She says something in Irish and he laughs, responding in the same language. I shrug because I've grown accustomed to it. JC on the other hand, he would've been pestering Lance and Jazz to tell him what they said and she would've told him a bold faced bullshit lie. She has her secrets, JC's the only one wanting to know every tiny detail. He thinks he has her figured out and so doesn't Lance, but there are things only I know. Drew Lachey, Jeff Timmons and of course there's Abs Breen; the details are damning and I know once she reads this entry in this particular 'story', she's going to ream me a new asshole.
Ok, we can start with Abs Breen, seeing as he's halfway across the globe from us here in the States. Between Nick and myself, she took a trip with Kit out to London to hang with Abs. How'd they meet? She ran into him while she waited in the lobby of our hotel the day she went to the mall with the Boys and they traded off contact info. The two girls went out to hang with him, Rich and J. They went out clubbing and Kit hooked up with J. Jazz? Oh, she hooked up with Abs and I mean the whole nine, no line left uncrossed. I got the phone call at three am.
Here's what was said:
"Uh, hello?" I was dead asleep, go easy on me.
"Timbs?" she says, sounding frantic and scared.
"Yeah, last I checked my name was Justin."
"I just did something über stupid."
That word told me she wasn't in the States. "Where are you?"
"Abs Breen's house." She begins to hyperventilate.
"Chill out. How'd you get there? Was anyone with you?" I ask, slowly sitting up in bed and swiping my hand down my face to wake myself a bit more.
"Kit came to London with me and she hooked up with J from 5ive. I kinda got a bit friendly with Abs."
I shake my head. "How friendly are we talking, girl?"
"Like naked, rolling in the bed sheets, kissing and moaning kinda friendly," she confesses, no doubt about her face being the brightest shade of red anyone could imagine.
"Oh, gee," I nervously chuckle, wondering why she can't just tell JC. Then I remember he's who she's fighting with, over what is something I don't know. Why can't she tell Lance? "You used protection, right?"
"No, I carry them in my bag just to look at," she sarcastically remarks. "Of course!"
"There's no risk then."
She loses her mind at this point. "I just had consensual SEX with Abs Breen! I'm 16! He's in his twenties! Statutory!"
"Did you drink?"
"Nothing with alcohol."
"You've had a crush on him since when?"
"A couple years ago." She sounds sheepish.
"It's whatever then. Your body, your choice and not even JC can stop you."
"You can't tell a soul," she whines.
"Of course." I cross my fingers as I jot down the date and what she did. Yes, black mail notes are coded.
Now, on to Drew Lachey. All I'm going to say is Grammys this year, about the time we ended it. I knew it would happen, but I didn't expect Nick to come running from 98 Degrees' dressing room in such an angry rush. "Have you seen Lynni?"
"Check the dressing room, third door on the right," he barks at me through clenched teeth.
"Kay, thanks," I reply, clearly confused. I head down in the direction he indicated and hear her giggle.
"Gimme my shirt, Lachey!" she says, laughing. I hear her belt buckle move as she does. Keep in mind that the awards show had ended already. She had gone to change into jeans and a comfy top an hour ago, a good 45 minutes before the end of the show. I open the door and see her with her jeans undone, her underwear peeking from the zipper, her upper body bare except for her blue bra with black lace edging. My breath catches in my throat and I whip around, exiting the room while slamming the door shut. About five minutes later, she comes out and spots me standing next to the door. "What did you see?" she inquires, scared.
"You jumping for your shirt, your jeans undone and your blue and black bra."
"Please don't tell anyone?" she begs.
I cross my fingers behind my back, making a mental note to write down later, of course it'll be coded.
Jeff Timmons? A couple months ago at the MTV Movie Awards, the after party. They disappeared for an hour or two and she came back with disheveled hair, a wrinkled shirt and adjusting her jeans as she rounds the corner from the bathroom. She looks up, our eyes locking a few feet from one another. She closes the space between us, pulling my head down to her lips, ready to warn me. "Nothing to nobody or it's on like Donkey fucking Kong, capeche?"
I nod as I pull away, her finger in my face. "Got it."
"I'm not kidding, Justin Randall!" she shouts over the noise.
"I know!" Mental note #2. At this point, I know she used protection-a condom and she's on the pill. She fixes her hair to hide it and smoothes out her shirt as best as she can and smiles, running her tongue over her teeth. She pulls out her foundation case and checks her teeth in the mirror of it. Satisfied with her appearance, she struts off, her hips rocking back and forth. Just then Jeff catches up to her, running his fingers down her back just right and she shivers. That confirmed it. They go their own ways, the whole incident left unspoken/unwritten until now.
I know I'm in for it when she reads this, but it felt good to let you readers know she's not as innocent as some of you may believe. There's much more and that will be told as soon as I see fit. Keep in mind when she's single, she has her fair share of fun and in more than one way.
The corruption Nick started has turned her into a nymph, not that I can complain anymore. But that little bit of info might not be fully revealed in this one, most likely will in another one.
We are writing these years later, based around journal, diary entries and video proof. We have pictures, videos and lyrics that show everything vividly. I've never said a word to anyone until now about any of her sexcapades.
I know that the more a person prods her for the information like this, the less she tells and the more she lies. I just laugh, causing her to giggle insanely and I smile because I knew I'd get that exact reaction if I did what I had. "You always make me laugh," she tells me in Irish. I recognize it, she says it all the time and she taught me the English equivalent.
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