“Have some more.”

I suck in a breath as Nana plops another piece of her peach cobbler on my plate. I really shouldn’t be eating like this. My nutritionist would totally shit himself. This stuff is terrible for my diet, but I just finished a long ass tour, so I guess I’m entitled to a little sin right? “Thanks Nana,” I smile, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Where is Kerri?,” she asks me. “She loves my pies.”

“She’s home,” I grumble. I don’t want to talk about her right now. This is my time with Nana. Kerri doesn’t need to be a part of it. Man, I’m so pissed at that girl. It’s been three years since we’ve spoken, and she still holds the same grudges against me that she did back then. I mean sure, at the time I understood why we couldn’t really talk. The whole situation was fucked up. I wouldn’t have wanted to talk to me either. But now…it’s been three years. She needs to let this go already. We’ve known each other too long to never talk again. It’s like…if Trace and I got into a fight.

Okay…well maybe not exactly like that.

“Hey my baby babe.” My mom struts into the kitchen and kisses me on the cheek.

If any of my friends were around I would totally act like I was too old for that name. But right now…when it’s just me momma and Nana, I let my true feelings show. My smile is a mile wide, and I drop my fork and hug and kiss my mom. “Hi momma.”

The she asks me the million dollar question. “Where’s Kerri?”

“Home,” I reply quickly. “Look, Nana made pie.”

My mom eyes my plate disapprovingly. “And how many pieces have you had?”

“He’s fine,” Nana interrupts before I can tell my mom the awful truth. “You just let your boy eat.”

My mom laughs. “Mom…you’re too much.”

“Have some pie,” she tells her, plopping a plate in front of my mother. “Stop thinking about business so much, Lynn.” She winks at me before retreating into the living room.

My mother sighs, but doesn’t hesitate to dig into her pie. She pops a piece into her mouth and closes her eyes, savoring the flavor. I smile. I do the same thing. “So,” she says finally. “Kerri is home?”

I nod.

“Well…did you two talk at least?” My mother loves Kerri. She has from the moment we met in preschool. I think she always dreamed that we would turn into this beautiful couple and get married one day. I used to think we would too. But now, I don’t think it will ever happen. She won’t even talk to me, but it’s mostly my fault that she won’t. She was right, I did stop calling. I stopped calling because it hurt too much to try and explain myself to her. Then Britney came back into my life, and I fell…hard.

“We’re not on good terms mom,” I admit. “Sorry to crush your dreams of a romantic reunion.”

“You need to try,” she tells me, pointing at me with her fork. “You’ve known each other too long to never speak to each other again.”

“Try telling Kerri that,” I laugh. “She’s so stubborn mom. I mean, I guess what happened between us was devastating, but still, she acts like I killed somebody.”

“You broke her heart,” my mom nods. “For a girl…there’s nothing worse than that.”

“It wasn’t my intention.  We’ve been through this a thousand times, momma. What happened just--happened. I think deep down, we both knew it would happen eventually but we didn’t know it would freak us out.”

“Sex,” she says, while I almost choke on my pie. “Is a delicate subject, Justin. Especially when--it’s your first time.”

“She said she wanted to do it. And, I wanted to do it. Hell, it wasn’t my first time at stake.”

“You should have acted like the man I raised and thought about how she would feel,” she says. “Maybe if you did that you wouldn’t be in this mess with her.”

Okay, so I told my mom about what happened. But I tell my mom everything. She’s a great listener. Like, she understands. I guess it’s because she had me when she was so young, that she can relate to what I go through. I need that kind of a parent in my mom though, because my life is so crazy. Besides my mom, Trace is the only other person I trust to talk about this kind of stuff with. If I couldn’t talk to my mom like I do…I’d probably go crazy. “It just happened,” I shrug. “And we were younger than we are now. We just got caught up. I don’t think she regrets it as much as she acts like she does.”

“You didn’t call her,” she reminds me. “I think that hurt her most of all.”

“Britney happened,” I say. “How could I go and call Kerri with Britney hanging over my head?”

“Well,” she smirks. “Britney certainly had no problem stabbing you in the back.”

My mom really loved Brit. She treated her like a daughter, and that was one of the reasons I allowed myself to fall in love with her. When she went and cheated on me…I think it hurt my mom as much as it hurt me. As far as I know, they haven’t really spoken since we split. I feel a little bad for Brit, because they were really close. But then again…she brought this on herself. “Let’s not go there today,” I say, shoving more pie in my mouth. I chew what’s in my mouth and swallow before continuing. “I have enough on my mind.”

She scoops the last of her pie into her mouth and nods. “You’re right. Let’s just try to enjoy the weekend.” She kisses me on the cheek again, and gets up from the table to put her plate in the sink. “Oh shit!” she exclaims.

I nearly jump out of my seat. “What!”

“The cake! I was supposed to send somebody for it an hour ago! Oh Justin…can you go? I just have so much to do…I don’t think I can go.”

I groan. I’m so tired, and I really don’t feel like driving anyplace. But I know my mom has her hands full with all these party plans. The least I can do is pick up the damn cake for her. “Okay mom.” I force a smile and rise from the table. “You got it from Leonard’s right?”

“Yes,” she smiles. “Thanks honey…I owe you.”

“I’m having two big huge pieces of this cake,” I tell her. “And there’s nothing you can do.”

“Fine,” she laughs. “You can work it off at the gym on Monday.”

The thought of breaking a sweat at the gym makes me feel more tired than I already am But I like working out, so I don’t know why the thought of it is pissing me off. Oh well…whatever.

I’ll just go get the cake.

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

This is the first car I ever bought for myself. I don’t know why I picked burgundy though. It’s really an ugly color. The guy really talked the car up though…told me all about its luxury features and junk. My father was there when I bought it, but he said I should have explored my options beforehand. I didn’t care then…but now I do. I mean, okay…I know I have a lot of money, but your first car is your first car. You can’t just get another first car. Oh well…it’s a Benz. That’s all that really matters I guess.

I can see the tree Kerri and I used to climb from here. When we were seven, I got really mad at her and pushed her out of it. I can’t even remember what she did that was so wrong…all I can remember is how much she cried, and how all I wanted to do was make her pain go away. I think that was the moment I realized that I really cared about her. Of course, when you’re seven you don’t really understand those kind of feelings. But I do know…after my mother punished me I didn’t care. All I wanted to know was if she was okay. That’s probably why, even though I was grounded, my mom still let me go to Kerri’s house. She always knew how close we were, and that’s why she gave me that lecture before. She wants to see us happy together.

But I just don’t think it’s possible.

I didn’t even realized I parked in front of her house. I feel really stupid, because she’s standing on the porch now, rolling her eyes at me. I wave a little, and she flips me off. You know what? Fuck her. I roll down the window. “What the hell?”

“Why are you stalking me?” she grunts.

“I’m not stalking you,” I reply, turning my music down a little. “I was looking at the tree.”

She glances at it and then looks back at me. “Oh…you mean the one you pushed me out of?”

I roll my eyes. “We were seven Kerri.”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “And you’re still the same asshole you were then.”

She’s so bitter. I would find it sexy if it was anybody else. Anybody else I can win over…but not her. Kerri is her own person…she doesn’t need a man to live her life. Britney did. That’s why she did what she did…because I wasn’t around enough for her. “Look Kerri,” I say. “Can we just pretend we don’t hate each other for this weekend?”

She walks over to the car and sticks her head in the window. “No,” she says. She glances around my car interior. “How many of these do you have now?”

“Just the one,” I tell her. “You wanna go for a ride?”

She laughs out loud. “That’s funny. You’ll probably kill me….throw me out of the car or something.”

“Oh come on,” I say. “That’s stupid.”

“Where are you going anyway?,” she asks. “The festivities are going to start soon.”

“I have to pick up the cake, or there won’t be any festivities,” I inform her. “Come on, get in. You can help me.” I press the unlock button on my door panel and the lock pops up.

She starts to chew the corner of her bottom lip. She always does that when she’s nervous…or when she doesn’t know what to do. I know she wants to give in. I know she wants to talk to me. She’s so stubborn though, that she won’t allow herself to give in. “Look…Kerri…it was my fault. This whole thing okay?” I say, even though I don’t believe that.

“You don’t believe that,” she whispers.

I hate that she knows me so well. “How about I believe it, just for this weekend.”

She sighs. “My mom wont let me help her do anything…so I guess….I’ll do it to help my parents out.” She walks around to the passenger side of the car and gets in.

It’s been entirely too long since we’ve driven around together. I let my gaze fall on her, and can’t help but stare at her for several moments. She looks even better than she did….

Never mind.

“Well,” she says after a moment. “Are you going to drive or sit here and look at me funny?”

I don’t answer and step on the gas. She turns the music up, and scrunches up her nose when she hears what CD I’m playing.

“I hate Eminem,” she grumbles. “What else do you have in here?”

“I dunno,” I huff. “There’s like a hundred CD’s in the player. Just hit a number on the remote.” I hand her the tiny remote, and she stares at it for several moments before punching in her selection. I can’t help but smile when ‘Girlfriend’ begins to fill the car. Man…what an awesome feeling. When I was a kid, I would go out with my mom and pretend to listen to my first single playing on the radio. My mom thought it was cute of course…that was before she really started to take me seriously. I think I’ve always taken myself seriously when it comes to music. I wasn’t like the other kids in my class. I was always so focused…such a perfectionist. I’m the same way today. Pharrell wanted to smack me when I was recording the album, because I kept changing things that he thought were perfect.

“Why me?” she moans.

I look over at her, and turn the music down a bit. “You used to love this song.”

“I didn’t come here to listen to your stupid CD,” she snaps at me. She quickly punches in another number, and Coldplay begins to flow through the car’s interior, and I’m glad because I know it’s something we both like. “Thank god,” she says, leaning back into the leather seat.

“Kerri, I don’t know how I’m gonna make it through this weekend with you being so bitter about every little thing I say or do. I didn’t come home for this,” I tell her. “I came home to be with my family and have fun.”

“So then stay away from me,” she replies. “Nobody is telling you to make an effort to be nice to me.”

I really hate her.

“That’s gonna be hard to do,” I tell her. “You and I both wanna hang out with Trace…there’s no way he’s gonna split his time in half. Can’t you grow up?”

“Me grow up!” she exclaims. “You’re the one who didn’t call me. You’re the one who let me sit up at night and wonder if you gave a damn about what went on between us. Fuck you, Justin.” She shakes her head angrily and looks out the window.

Apparently three years apart from each other hasn’t been enough for Kerri. She’s still as mad as the day we blew up and said all of those ridiculous things to each other. Maybe…we just aren’t meant to be friends anymore. It makes me a little sad, because my whole childhood was spent with her…but what can I do? I’m not gonna kill myself to get her to come around. I have a lot of friends…and plenty of best friend in Trace. You know what?

I don’t care anymore.

“Fine,” I say. “After we pick up the cake I’ll drop you off, and we can both get on with our lives.”

She doesn’t reply. I should be happy…but I’m not. Actually, I feel like shit. I want her to say something…even if it’s negative. I hate myself right now. Britney…she fucked me up. That’s what’s wrong with me. You know…I should have invited Cameron to come home with me. At least then I could focus my attention on somebody else besides Kerri. But I was afraid of the tension it might cause. I didn’t think my mom was ready for me to bring another girl home so soon. I mean, she wants me to be happy, but I know she’s not ready to trust somebody else around me yet. But, it’s only two days…yeah. Only two days and then I won’t have to deal with Kerri anymore. Hell, if I can handle being asked the same god damn questions about Britney over and over again, I can handle anything.

I take the road that leads to the local shopping center, and I’m thankful when I’m finally able to pull into the parking lot. Now we just have to get the cake and I’ll be done with this stupid shit.

Who’s that guy coming over here?

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

There’s some guy standing by Justin’s car. I think he’s one of those paparazzi guys. Ooo fun. Maybe I’ll get to see a live version of celebrities uncensored. Too bad I don’t have my video camera. I could make so much money off of that. They’d call it, JUSTIN UNCENSORED. Ha. Classic.

“Who the fuck is that?” Justin asks.

I look over at him again. “How should I know? Maybe he wants an autograph.”

“He can fuck off,” Justin snaps. “I’m on vacation.”

I glare at him. “So that means you can’t take time out for your fans? Wow Justin…that’s pretty shallow.”

“That’s not a fan,” he informs me. “That’s probably some paparazzi fuck that followed me home. I’m not doing this on my vacation. I swear…I’ll throw his camera across the parking lot.”

“Right, and then he’ll sue you.” Awhile back, Justin was involved in this lawsuit. Some girl filed charges against him saying he slammed her up against wall after she got an attitude with him. I was there that night. It didn’t happen like that, but Justin wasn’t exactly nice to her. She was a fan…she wanted a picture. He basically told her to go screw herself. It was wrong…but nobody thought she would have taken it as far as she did. “Like that girl,” I giggle.

“Don’t even go there,” he says to me. “Let’s just get the cake and get out of here before he starts taking pictures. I don’t want the world to think that I have some ‘mystery woman’ traveling around with me.”

I feel my heart sink. I don’t know why. I don’t care if Justin wants to be seen with me or not. Hell, I don’t want to be seen with him either. So why do I feel this way? Dammit…where is Trace when I need moral support?

Justin opens his car door and starts to get out of the car. I see the man walk briskly over to his side, and I feel myself go numb. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. He’s probably just going to ask for an autograph or something.

“Can I help you?” Justin asks, still halfway out of the car.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think you can.”

I open my door and start to get out of the car, wanting to get the cake out of the bakery while Justin is doing his ‘work’.

“Stay in the car Kerri,” he says to me.

“I’m getting the cake,” I tell him. “Relax.”

“I said stay in the car,” he repeats.

“You’re not my fucking owner, Justin.”

“Actually,” the mystery man speaks up. “I think it’s good idea if y’all get back into the car…right now.”

Something is wrong. I slide myself back into the car, and turn my head in time to see the man pull a gun out of his back pocket. “Oh god,” I croak out. I feel lightheaded, and I want to run and hide someplace. But there isn’t anywhere to go. If I try to run, he’ll probably shoot me…or shoot Justin. I know we aren’t on the best terms…but I don’t want him to get hurt because of something I did.

“Whoa man,” Justin says. “What’s the problem? You want the car? Take it…just leave us alone okay?”

“Get in the back,” he orders. “Do it quick.”

Phone!, my mind screams at me. I realize that my cell is in my back pocket, but I don’t pull it out. I should…I should pull it out and dial 911 right now. But I’m terrified. That gun…it’s making me paralyzed. I’m a slave to it. What the hell do I do?

“Move!” the man yells at us.

I glance out the window quickly, hoping that there are people around who can help us. But it’s after six…and in this town, everybody is at home eating dinner with their families. The businesses are closing up. This place is a ghost town. Damn it, I wish I were in the city. People can’t pull shit off in New York this easily. I watch with wide eyes as Justin gets out of the car and gets into the back seat. I know I’m supposed to follow, but I can’t get myself to move. I’m still frozen in my seat.

“Kerri,” Justin whispers to me. “Kerri come on…come back here with me.”

“That means you too sweetness,” the man says with a twisted smile. “Get a move on.”

Now he’s pointing the gun at me, squeezing the trigger ever so slightly to get a rise out of me. I feel myself start to cry. This is not what you’re supposed to do when something like this happens. You’re supposed to remain calm. Oh my god…now I’m nearly hysterical. I need to stop. Please stop Kerri.

“I said move!” he yells. He rushes around to the other side of the car and wrenches the door open. He pushes the gun to my temple. I try to scream, but no sound will come out. I’m terrified. I’ve never been this terrified in my life.

“Hey!” Justin says. “Just leave her alone…she’s not a part of this. I know it’s me that you want.”

“You shut the fuck up,” the man sneers. He yanks me out of the car and opens up the back door, shoving me inside next to Justin. “Don’t move,” he grunts, before slamming the door in my face.

I’m still crying. I don’t know what to do with myself. This kind of stuff doesn’t happen to normal people. It happens in movies and on television. You see it on the news and say ‘that’s sick, how could somebody do that?’. But now it’s happening to me. I look at Justin. He’s staring at me with this guilty look on his face.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers.

I don’t answer. A moment later the man gets into the front seat and speeds off. I glance out the back window…and there is nobody there. All this has just happened, and nobody was there to see any of it.

We are so fucked.

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

We are about an hour outside of Millington. I have no idea where this guy is taking us. Justin tried asking him before…and he told him to shut his mouth before he shut it for him. Other than that, and a spur of the moment conversation the man held on his cell phone, there has been no conversation at all since we left the shopping center. Well…no spoken conversation anyway. Justin happened to find a pen and paper on the floor, and we’ve been writing back and forth to each other. Somehow, our captor hasn’t caught onto us yet. Not that I can say I’m thankful. I’m still not over everything Justin and I have been through today, and I really don’t want to talk to him.

But I would say the situation doesn’t give me much of a choice.

I shoot him a dirty look. He’s acting like he knows exactly what to do. He doesn’t. He’s trying to be brave and all it’s going to do is get us both killed in about twenty minutes. If he thinks he’s getting my phone he’s sadly mistaken. No. I’d like to remain in tact for the time being.

“I have to use the bathroom,” Justin says immediately.

“Hold it,” the man says.

“I can’t,” he complains. “I have a bladder problem.”

The man laughs at him. “Right. So I’m supposed to stop at some gas station so you can use the bathroom. Then you’ll get recognized, and I’ll be fucked. Kid…I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

Justin’s expression doesn’t waver. He’s always been a good actor. “Seriously dude,” he says. “I have to piss. If I don’t…it’s gonna end up in the car.”

“Who cares?” the mans say. “We’re dumping this car anyway. Piss all you want.”

“Dumping it?,” Justin whines. “You can’t…this car is like my baby…”

Justin continues to complain, and the man seems to be getting a kick out of it. Every so often Justin glances over at me, and quickly looks away again. It only takes me a moment or two to realize what Justin is doing. He’s distracting the guy…so I can text for help. It’s risky, but I guess it’s the best shot we have of getting out of this before this guy gets us where he wants us to be. I slowly, silently pull my phone out of my back pocket, pretending to scratch an itch as I do so. The man doesn’t notice my movements though. Justin is keeping him busy…complaining about the air conditioning…that he still has to go to the bathroom…

His annoying tendencies are actually helpful right now.

I flip open my phone, and pull up Trace’s number. He’s the only one I know that will have a cell phone handy right now. I’d dial 911 but really, how would that help? I can’t talk, and they can’t trace a cell phone location. At least I don’t think they can. With a shaky hand I type out: In trouble, not a joke, call police, and push send, praying that Trace has his phone on him and that it’s turned on. I nod at Justin, telling him that I’ve done it.

“Kid if you don’t shut the fuck up…” the man snaps, as Justin rambles on. “I’m gonna kick the shit out of you on the side of the road.”

“Well how would you like it if you had to piss and you couldn’t?” Justin says.

“If I was in your situation kid…I’d be a little more concerned about my life than my dick.”

I see him lose his composure slightly. It’s apparent now that he’s just as scared as I am, but he’s trying to keep his feelings locked away. He doesn’t say anything else to the man after that. He sits back in his seat, and after a moment starts to write on the pad again.

I stare at the back of the man’s head for several moments, making sure he isn’t looking before I write a response. I put: In trouble, not a joke, call police.

I shoot him a hateful look. What the hell was I supposed to say?

I almost laugh at his stupid response, but I catch myself in time. I can’t laugh now. The guy would figure something was up…or he would see the pad. Then we’d really be fucked over. Right. That’s a lot more believable than what I put.

It is.

You’re stupid.

Don’t argue with me. Do you realize what’s going on right now?

Of course I do.

Then start working with me inst----

My phone is ringing. This is not happening. It’s not. Fucking Christ. I thought it was on vibrate. Why couldn’t I have checked? I look at it quickly. Of course it’s Trace. Of course it is. The man slams on the brakes almost immediately, and it causes me to let out a frightening whimper. “What the hell is that!” he yells.

“My watch,” Justin supplies, shoving the pad underneath him.

“Bullshit it is.” He parks at the side of the road and turns around to look at us. His eyes widen when he spots the phone resting beside me. He points the gun at me again. He’s really pissed off now, and I’m completely terrified. There isn’t a worse combination. “Give it up, girl,” he snaps, motioning to the phone with his gun. “Right now.”

With a trembling hand, I pick up the phone…which is still blaring it’s annoying rendition of Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, and start to hand it to him. I pretend to let my hand slip on the way though, and ‘accidentally’ flip the phone open. I hear Trace’s voice immediately. He’s shouting something…I think “Kerri are you there?” I pray that the guy decides to say something menacing…something that will give Trace a clue that I’m not joking around.

“Do you think this is a fucking joke!” the man yells. He snaps the phone closed and throws it out the window.

Yes…good. There is no way Trace didn’t hear that. He’s probably dialing the police right now…we’ll be home tonight, I’m sure of it.

“You know, I should just shoot you right now,” the man laughs. “I don’t need you. I came for him,” he motions to Justin with his gun. “You’re starting to be more trouble than you’re worth, girl.”

“I…,” I begin, hardly above a whisper. “I’m sorry…”

He presses the barrel of the gun to my forehead a moment later, and I close my eyes, hoping that if he’s going to shoot me…he’ll do it quick. I feel a wetness in my underwear…oh my god I think I just pissed my pants.

“Put the gun down,” I hear Justin say. “She’s not gonna try anything.”

Justin knows this guy won’t shoot him, that’s why he’s saying whatever he wants. He is this guy’s ticket to a few million dollars. I…I’m just an accessory. My family could never raise the kind of money that Justin has. This guy could kill me, and still get what he wants. He knows it too.

“Looks like your boyfriend cares more about you than I thought,” I hear the man say. His comment causes me to open my eyes, and for the first time…I get a really good look at our captor, and I begin to create a mental file of him…for later. He’s surprisingly young…maybe a little older than me, although his gruff sounding voice makes him sound much older. I guess he must smoke a lot or something, because his raspy tone isn’t natural.

He has a boyish look about him. He has a scruffy looking half beard covering his chin and cheeks, like he hasn’t shaved in a day or two. His lips are curled at the ends like he’s about to smile…but he never does. His nose is small and straight, and the tip of it curls up slightly like an elf‘s would. It almost causes me to look at his ears to see if they are pointed at tops, but his eyes prevent me from doing so. They are deep and dark, the color of the midnight sky. There’s a coldness in them, that sends a chill down my spine. It’s not an everyday look. It’s predatory, evil. He has a small scar on his left cheek and I think of all the ways he might have gotten it. But then I put that thought away…it’s just the facts for now. It’s the facts that are important. His hair is tousled like he didn’t bother to brush it this morning…he just ran a hand through it instead. It’s an unlikely mix of dirty blond and brown, lighter at the ends and darker at the roots. It makes me wonder if he could have dyed it himself to disguise his real color. Whatever. It’s a crappy dye job.

“What are you looking at?,” he says, drawing the gun back slightly.

Between the gun being pressed to my head, and taking in the bastard’s features, I can’t seem to find my voice again. I open my mouth to respond, but the only answer I can provide is a weak croak.

Then he hits me…slams me across the face with his free hand.

“Bitch, you better answer me when I talk to you!”

I let out a pathetic sounding moan, and clutch the throbbing portion of my face with my hand. I still can’t answer him though. I can’t say anything. My mind won’t allow me to. So I just sit silently, probably with the same dumb look on my face that I had before. It’s pissing him off even more. I don’t know him well enough yet to know what he’s capable of. But right now I’m sure he’s capable of shooting me and dumping me in the grass.

“Just calm down,” Justin says. “Come on man…she didn’t do anything to you.”

Now he’s pressing the gun to the side of Justin’s head. I see him flinch once…but that is the extent of any emotion. He’s being so calm, it’s like he’s been through this before. I can’t understand him, not at all.

“Don’t think I won’t shoot you,” he says to Justin. “You’re not fuckin privileged here. You’re not the one with the gun…I am. I’m the one in control.”

“I…I know,” Justin replies, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re in control.”

“Then stop fucking with me,” the man snaps. He begins to turn back around, but pauses halfway and shoots me another cold look. “Especially you.”

A car passes by us, and I wish that it would slow down in time to see us parked here. Surely they would think something was wrong and then stop to help. But it doesn’t stop. It keeps going, oblivious to the hell that Justin and I are experiencing right now. ‘Scar face’, as I have decided to call him for now, starts up the car again, and speeds off. In a moment we are on the road again.

I look to Justin, hoping like hell that he’ll have some sort of remark to scribble on the pad. But he won’t even look at me. His eyes are wide and intense…focused on the road ahead. It seems as if he’s forgotten I’m even here…

And I feel so alone.