Everyone I know has either tiptoed around me or kissed my ass for so long, that I basically forgot what it felt like for somebody to be infuriated with me. I don’t know what the hell possessed me to think that I had the right to treat Melanie the way I did, just because I was confused about what happened the other morning.  In fact, if Trace hadn’t come to the rescue and told me off I probably wouldn’t have snapped out of my foul state of mind at all.  It proved something to me.  One, that I’m still as stupid as I was when Kerri was around, and two, that Trace is always going to be my friend no matter how stupid I am.  I can’t take that for granted anymore either.  Despite everything, Trace has pushed it all to the side simply for the sake of our friendship.  I can’t comprehend it.  I pushed him to the edge, put him through hell and yet...he forgives me.  Yet, I’m still important to him.

He still needs me.

It makes me sick to my stomach to know I’ve gotten away with as much as I have.

The drive back from the golf course had been anything but comfortable.  Mel didn’t put the radio on, and I have to admit, I was scared to see what would have happened if I attempted to do it.  Neither of us had spoken, but every so often I would glance over at her to try and see if she would smile over at me.  But her look had been stone cold, fixed on the open road ahead of her, and I knew how angry she was.  I kept going over in my head what had taken place between us over the past couple of weeks, and all the awkwardness that had transpired because of it.  In my heart I knew the relationship that Melanie and I shared was becoming anything but professional, and it was starting to stray far away from what a normal friendship was supposed to be.  I was slipping and I knew it.  It wasn’t a dependence, it was more than that.  It was like...my heart ached for her at times.  My fingertips longed to feel her skin against them.  My lips longed for the kiss that had yet to come.  

Something inside was telling me that Melanie was a truly amazing woman and I had completely fallen for her.  I just didn’t know how to handle that.  Her being that close to me...on top of me, scared me.  But I think I was ready for it.  I hadn’t wanted her to go away, all I wanted to do was pull her closer and kiss her.  But she ran out on me before I could make my move.  It confused me I guess.  I started thinking all that negative shit about myself again and it made me so angry that by the time I got to the golf course the best thing I could do was push her away.  I should have tried to shrug the awkward feelings off of me, but I just couldn’t.  I’m not mentally capable of brushing things like that to the side just yet.  It sucks and I hate myself for it, but it’s the truth.

Since I’m a coward and have mastered the art of avoiding the subject, I decided to play dumb when we’d finally gotten back to the house.  She’d started to pull dinner together and I’d taken a seat at the kitchen table, staring at her as she moved to and fro.  I tried to only focus on the normal shit, like how sexy she looked.  But I found that I couldn’t.  She was beyond angry with me, and I felt like complete shit.  “So uh, what are you making....” I’d began like a fool.

“Don’t go there with me right now.”  She’d pulled a head of lettuce out of the refrigerator and slammed it down onto the counter.  “You know I’m pissed, and you know why, Justin.  I’m not some air headed bimbo, like the rest of the girls that worship you.”

It caused me to wince and sink down into my chair like an kid would.  Her gaze had been icy cold, reminding me of when I was younger and had pissed off Nana so badly that she gave me a spanking I’d never forget.  I was twelve, and had been officially cast for the Mickey Mouse Club just a month prior.  I was excited, but at the same time I felt an overwhelming amount of pressure on my shoulders.  I knew from that year on my life would never be the same.  I’d always be in the entertainment business, and I didn’t know how it was going to affect my friendships and my family life.  Moving down to Orlando, away from everything I’d ever known, had been scaring the crap out of me too.  I’m sure it was why I lost my senses at the little family gathering we’d had the weekend before my mother and I made the trip down there.

Trace had been helping me open my going away presents, when we’d came upon the last and largest package on the table, which had been from Nana.  We’d torn through the silvery wrapping paper like two wild animals, hoping it was that new video game system we’d been begging both of our families for.  Of course my excited grin had faded when all I’d found was a summers supply of clothes, socks and underwear.  Trace had laughed too, and called me a dork for getting underwear from my grandmother.  I’d glared at him, and we’d started to banter back and forth until Nana had come over, chuckling to herself.  She’d been oblivious to my mood of course, and asked me if I could try on some of the jeans.  

“I don’t want stupid clothes.”  I’d crossed my arms stubbornly.  “I’m leaving. I wanted something fun.”  I took the box off the table like the spoiled little brat that I was and pushed it across the floor.  “Take it all back.”

I’d never seen her look so angry and hurt in my life.  Looking back on that moment now, I know how fucking stupid I was.  She’d sacrificed so much so I could have a good life, and I just couldn’t see that. I was too young, arrogant, and stupid.  She’d focused on Trace after that, with the same angry look on her face.  “Trace, honey, why don’t you go on home now.”

His eyes went wide.  “But...”

“Go on.”

He ran out of the house like the little chicken shit that he was, and I proceeded to sulk in the corner for an hour or so.  Nana had made it clear she didn’t want to see me, and my mother had basically told me to go somewhere I couldn’t cause any more trouble.  I had started to realize what I’d done after awhile, but I never thought I would have gotten as harsh of a punishment as I did.  When all of the guests had left, my parents had gone back to our house and I’d tried to follow, but Nana hadn’t allowed me to.  She pulled me through the house by the arm, and into Papa’s study.  I had started to cry, but she hadn’t said a word.  She’d just gotten the belt, yanked my pants down and gave me the whooping of a lifetime.  I was too young to understand at the time of course, but I know how much it pained her to do that to me.  She’d thrown me out of her house after that, telling me not to set a foot back inside until I had realized what I’d done and was ready to apologize.

It took me all of a half hour to come to my senses of course, and I’d ran back to the house, throwing my arms around her waist and sobbing into her chest.  Deep down I knew she’d beat me because she loved me, and didn’t know any other way to prove that to me.  I always knew how she felt just by looking at her.  I guess its why, with the exception of that one time, I’ve always been able to get my way with her.  Melanie is so much different though.  I mean, I knew she was mad at me but I couldn’t see that deep down into her.  It was like I was searching for her exact feelings when it came to me, and it made me really insecure that I couldn’t just sense it.

I think she’s the only person in my life who I haven’t been able to read like an open book.

“I’m sorry,” I finally told Melanie, as she continued to move rapidly around my kitchen.  “I am.”

She slammed another drawer shut, and I looked down at my lap so I could avoid what I knew would be an even angrier expression.  “Oh yeah, of course you’re sorry now.  Now that we’re alone and you have nobody else to talk to,” she snapped.  “You forgot about all of that today, Justin.  That I’ve been there when nobody else gave a damn about your depressed ass.  You treated me like a piece of shit on the golf course today, and I just...don’t have the patience to get into this with you anymore.  From now on, if you want to go out with Trace or whoever its fine.  But don’t fucking expect me to come along, so you have somebody to bully when you get uncomfortable.”

I couldn't even look at her, so I just kept my gaze focused on my lap, trying desperately to think of something good to say.  The sad truth was, I couldn’t...because I knew I’d been shitty to her and I had nothing good to say to make up for any of it.  I sort of just sat there, and I guess she read my mind because she slapped her hand down on the counter after that and continued to ramble on.

“And okay, so this morning was weird for both of us too.”

I looked up and she had been pacing the area between my fridge and my sink.  

“But you know,” she paused and pointed an accusing finger at me.  “That wasn’t an excuse for you to be a dick to me!  Just because Trace’s girlfriend was there you started to act like a completely different person.  It was like I didn’t even exist or matter to you anymore.  I mean, I didn’t expect you to be buddy buddy with me all day, but God, you didn’t even care that I was there! And you can just...just go places by your damn self from now on!”

As my mouth hung open in complete shock, she sucked in a long breath and started to angrily open the package of chicken breasts, tossing them onto the counter.  I could hear her mumbling under her breath as she sliced into them with a knife, and all I could really think was that she wished it was me she was slicing into thin stir fry strips.  I felt sick to my stomach, and thought back to when I was with Kerri and we would fight like that.  I’d go up behind her and kiss her neck and all would be well.  But I knew with Mel, I’d probably get the knife shoved into my gut if I tried to pull any of that crap with her.  It wasn’t the same.  She was different...so different.  So independent.  She stuck around yeah, and thats the one thing that told me she cared.  It was making me fall for her too.  I tried to think about what Trace had said...telling me to be careful.  Then I tried to think about what it would be like if I told her she could leave...that it would be better for her.

And I realized that I couldn’t.  Plain and simple.  Despite the fact that she was so enraged with me, I still found her unbelievably irresistible.  I needed her.  She was quickly becoming a part of my life that I never wanted to give up.  I refused to think about the consequences of that either.  I was tired of consequences.  I was ready for rewards again.   

But I was too late for rewards.

“Damn,” she chuckled, as she tossed the chicken into the sizzling frying pan.  “I need to get away.  Thank God I’m leaving tomorrow.”

I had stared at her for a few minutes, trying to make sure I had heard her right.  I couldn’t really comprehend the fact that she said she was leaving.  All I could really feel was an overwhelming sense of emptiness forming at the pit of my stomach.  It was almost like the feeling I’d gotten right after I’d been raped, just a little less intense.  I felt like I was nothing.  Like if I had gotten up from my seat my legs would have turned to jello and I would have collapsed.  “What?” It was more of a horse whisper than anything else, but my throat had gone dry, and I could barely thinking clearly enough to get the word off my tongue anyway.  

She didn’t look up from her chicken cutting to see my unfortunate expression.  “I told you I was going to visit a friend this weekend.  Your mom is coming to stay with you while I’m gone.”

“You...you never told me that.” My fists had been clenched at my sides, and I was finding that it was getting harder for me to catch my breath.  I tried desperately to calm down, because it had been awhile since I’d had a full blown panic attack, and the last person I wanted to lose it in front of then was Melanie.  Weakness was something I was trying to get away from in my life.  And when I cared about a woman, it was the last quality I wanted her to know I possessed.  But it was hard.  The last woman I had worked to impress was Cameron, and I wasn’t fucked up then, so it wasn’t very hard to win her over.  Kerri was easy.  She knew everything, she was already in love with me, and she couldn’t have cared less what my issues were because she was too caught up in her own.  I had to face it.  Melanie was the first girl I had some kind of feelings for that I was going to have to work to win over since everything happened, and I guess I’d been through so much shit I had sort of forgotten how to charm a woman who didn’t completely give into me.  I was going to have to learn how to do it all over again.

But I didn’t think I could.

“It’s on the calendar.” She’d let out a sad sigh as she pointed to the calendar hanging on the wall.  Sure enough, there had been a big red circle over Saturday’s date, and I knew she had probably tried to mention something about the significance of it sometime in the previous weeks.  I had probably been so busy worrying about myself or something else pointless, that I didn’t bother to pay attention.  I was angry at myself, but I was angry at her too.  I thought that she would have mentioned something that important more than once...but I guess I needed to learn how to pay attention to things the first time around. The old version of myself would have.

This version however, hadn’t paid attention and now he was paying for it.  The most I could do was blurt out: “But you can’t leave!”

“Justin I’ve been here for almost two months, and I haven’t had any time to myself!” She shook her head roughly as she washed her hands in the sink.  “When I asked your mom about it she practically ordered me to take the time off.”

I’d gotten up from the table angrily.  “Well maybe I need you here!,” I’d barked.  “Did you ever think about that, Mel?”

“Your mom’s going to be here.  Ever think about that?”

I’d walked over to the sliding glass door and stared out into my back yard.  I was beyond  pissed off at her, but I knew better than to throw a fit.  The reason we were fighting in the first place was because I’d acted like that earlier in the day, and it was completely uncalled for.  “I don’t need her to babysit me,” I’d mumbled.  “I need you here.”

“What for?,” she laughed bitterly.  “So you can ridicule me and act like I’m a little nobody who should be groveling at your feet?”

Her words hit me hard, but I knew she had grounds to say what she said to me.  “I told you I was sorry,” I whispered, not taking my gaze away from the window.  

“You treated me like shit for no reason!”

She had screamed at me so loud, it forced me to look away from the window and turn to her again.  She was staring at me like I was a horrible person, but I didn’t give in, or start to feel sorry for myself.  I wanted to let her know how her actions earlier in the morning had made me feel, so that she could sort of understand where I was coming from.   “Well if you hadn't pulled that stupid shit in the basement this morning, maybe things would have gone differently, Melanie.”  I crossed my arms over my chest, thinking it would have been enough for her to get the point.

It wasn’t of course.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she glared.  “I wasn’t pulling anything! You know, I wasn’t even thinking clearly.  I thought we were just playing around, and all of a sudden you were on the floor and I was...on top of you.  It freaked me out! How did you expect me to react?”

She started to turn away from me then, probably assuming I was going to back down.  She was wrong though.  It was like she was making everything that had happened my fault entirely when I knew it wasn’t.  Certain things had set me off and I wasn’t going to keep my mouth shut.  “I was ready to kiss you, and you just blew it off!”

It was quiet for a long time after that.  Melanie proceeded to busy herself cleaning a spot on the counter and I just stood there.  Yes, awkwardness had ensued once again but this time I didn’t know what to make of it.  It was really up to her anyway.  I knew I had yelled  about the kissing to get a response out of her, but a big part of me was afraid of hearing what that response was.

After awhile she looked up at me again, but didn’t stop scrubbing the counter.  “We aren’t supposed to kiss,” she whispered.  

I hated to hear that, so naturally my defensive mode kicked back in full gear.  “If that’s how you want to act, then fine.  I don’t care anymore.”

She’d stopped what she was doing then and threw down the cloth, seemingly fed up with me.  “You know what?  I’ll see you Monday.”  She turned off the burners on the stove, leaving the uncooked food in the pots and the raw chicken on the counter, and stormed away from me.

It was a time where I usually would have kept my feet firmly planted on the floor, and watched her walk away from me like I had done so many times before with other women.  But when I found myself quickly jogging to catch up with her, I realized how hopelessly attached I was becoming to her.  I didn’t want her to leave.  I needed her, and I hated that I was driving her away with my stupid attitude.  “Mel, come on.  Just wait.” I’d grabbed her arm, forgetting yet again how big of a no no that was in her book.  And when she whirled around and firmly shoved me away from her, I made a big mental note not to physically grab onto her in the future.

"Just stop!,” she’d yelled.  “We’re...not supposed to be like that.  We’re not supposed to like each other like that.  I like you Justin, but we’re friends.  That’s it.  I work for your mom.  Don’t you understand why we can’t do this? Why I can’t...kiss you like you think I should?”

I’d only been able to sigh and roll my eyes.  “No.  I don’t get it.  Maybe that makes me arrogant or stupid or something but...i dont’ care what my mom or anybody else thinks about how I feel or how you feel about me.  Why can’t you just tell me what your issue is , huh? I know its not my mom, it’s something else...inside of you.  Why do you have to be so secretive all the time?”  I knew it was probably out of line, but then again I’d been tiptoeing around Mel and whatever issues she had for a long time.  She hadn’t divulged all that much to me about her past or why she had been admitted to a mental hospital.  It always caused me to wonder what she’d been through....

If she could really feel the type of pain that I felt everyday.

She laughed at me.  “You actually think you can stand here and call me secretive?”

I’d crossed my arms stubbornly.  “Yeah, I do.  You don’t tell me anything about your life, or your past, Mel.  It’s like this big dark cloud with you.  I shouldn’t have to wonder about shit like that when we’re this close.  Why’d you try to kill yourself?  You could at least explain that to me.”

“You’re being ridiculous!” She scoffed and held her hands out at her sides.  “You have a hell of a nerve asking me something like that right now.  You don’t tell me anything about yourself, Justin.  If anything, you’re even more secretive than I am.  Do you hear yourself right now?”

Okay, I was stupid to think she wouldn’t have thrown all of it back in my face.  But the pigheaded idiot inside of me wasn’t thinking logically then.  I just thought she’d see how upset I was and force the fact that I hadn’t really mentioned my kidnapping to her at all, aside.  But Mel was too smart for that.  She knew how to get back at me and she wasn’t the type of woman to hold anything back.  I hung my head low.  “I’ve told you some stuff,” I said pathetically.

“I’m not about to let you manipulate me,” she’d snapped.  “Thats like me standing here and asking you why you cut yourself.  It’s because you were sad Justin.  I was sad, that’s why it happened.  I didn’t just wake up one day and decide my life wasn’t worth living anymore.  I mean, if you’re ready to sit down and tell me all the gory, gritty details of your kidnapping then fine...I’m willing. Let’s do this.  I’ll tell you everything you want to know about me, no more questions...no more secrets.”

She’d stood there, her eyes boring intensely into mine.  Deep down I knew that she didn’t expect me to reveal anything that pained me to her.  She wasn’t trying to be  mean or spiteful, she just wanted to let me know how I was making her feel.  And I definitely understood after that.  The thought of sitting down and telling her what Shane did to me made me feel sick to my stomach.  I knew I couldn’t just tell her about that, or about Kerri and what happened between us.  Or about any aspect of being held hostage.  I couldn’t even get it all out of my head, and talking to somebody else about it would have only made my pain that much worse.  I felt like shit.  I knew she had to have been feeling the same way, and that made me so angry at myself.  I didn’t want her to ever have to feel like I felt.  “No.  Nevermind,” I said softly.

“Exactly.”  She nodded.  “And I don’t hold that against you Justin.  I’m not even giving it a second thought.  So I would hope you’ll give me the same kind of respect.”

I nodded in agreement, but the curiosity was killing me.  The selfish part of me that didn’t care about her feelings wanted to keep pushing her issues, and find out what her deal was.  But I knew that the other part of me...the one that was falling for her...couldn’t do that.  I wanted her to trust me, and know that I wasn’t going to make her uncomfortable.  She just needs time, that’s all. So do I. And I know there will be a time that we’ll both be more comfortable with each other than we ever thought possible.  That’s when it’s going to happen.  That’s when I’m going to be able to pull her close and tell her all about my nightmare, and she’ll understand.

Then maybe I’ll be able to be happy again.  Finally.

“I just need to clear my head, and I haven’t seen my girlfriend in a really long time.” She reasoned with me, her voice and expression much softer this time.  “It’s two days, Justin.  And I’m sure Trace will stop by and you’ll be okay.”  She put her hands up to my face and smoothed them over my cheeks.  “Promise me you won’t make me regret taking this time for myself.”

I shook my head a little but didn’t pull away from her touch.  “I don’t want you to regret it.  You should go...you know?  I mean, you deserve it.  I just get so freaked out when I have to be alone with my mom.” I had to pause and bite my lip because I didn’t want to break down in front of her.  It was the truth though.  Things changed drastically after the kidnapping.  My mom and I weren’t the same.  I couldn’t just call her up and bitch to her about everything in my life anymore.  I didn’t know how she judged me or if she thought I was crazy.  It sucked.  I missed her like hell but that didn’t mean I had the energy to kill myself making things like they used to be again.  I was just going with the current situation, and having Mel around made me forget that I barely had a relationship with my mom anymore.  Knowing that I was going to be forced to be alone with her for a weekend made me cringe.  I wasn’t in the mood to be harassed by her about what I’d been doing and if I was taking my medication, or if I’d been cutting myself.  But it was for Melanie’s sake. I think that’s the only reason why I agreed to go along with it at all.  

“Don’t be freaked out.” She’d smiled at me.  “She regrets alot of things Justin.  I think she wants to share this weekend for you more than anything, so you can have a better relationship.”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, and backed away from her a little bit, allowing her hands to fall back to her sides.  ‘I always feel like I’m battling with her.  Like, proving to her that I’m not psycho and I can take care of myself.”

“So don’t let her think that way.  Show her that you’ve grown, okay?  And you can text me this weekend.  I’ll check my phone for you.”

She wrapped her arms around me after that and gave me a long hug.  I returned it with equal force, whispering a final ‘please don’t go’ in her ear before she nudged me and told me to stop it.  She finished dinner after that, which was consumed in front of the television.  Then she’d gone to pack, telling me that she’d be gone in the morning but would text me to let me know she’d gotten to her girlfriends house in one piece.  I let her go with a heavy heart.  I tried to act like everything was fine, but it was just a cover up.  I really hated to think I was going to be without her for a weekend.  What if I had a bad dream, or Shane came to talk to me during the day?  I knew I couldn’t lose it in front of my mom, and I didn’t want to lose it in front of Trace anymore.  He was one person that I was tired of showing my weak side to.  Mel knew about my tendency to lose it, and she understood it.  She didn’t badger me or question me or act like I was lame.

For the first time in awhile I knew I was going to have to suck it up and be strong...or fake...whichever happened to be easier at the given moment.

The house was strangely silent when I woke up this morning.  Despite the fact that I knew she was going to be gone, I set my alarm for the normal jog time anyway.  I guess a part of me was hanging on to that little hope that she’d decide to cancel her trip because she knew I’d miss her too much.  I walked from room to room, expecting her to be hiding somewhere.  My heart had sank when I’d ended up inside my guest house, only to find her cat hiding underneath a chair.  I did find a note that she’d left for me though, which made me smile a little.  It wasn’t anything huge, just something reminding me to please feed her cat and make sure I took the dogs for a walk, and not to feed them any table scraps (even though she knew I would anyway). It was crazy that something so small had reassured me that much.  I guess just knowing that she believed that I could handle myself meant more than I had ever thought possible.  I felt uplifted.  For the first time since Melanie came I felt that confidence again...the confidence I used to have way back when.  

I can handle this.

I know I can.

I’d fed Morgan, not without receiving a slight hiss from her as I’d tried to scratch the top of her head, and walked back across the yard and into the house again.  I nearly jumped out of my skin when my I’d found my mother sitting at the kitchen table, reading a magazine.  The dogs had been lying at her feet, seemingly unamused by her presence, and I had sighed, knowing that it usually took a lot on my part to get them to be so calm first thing in the morning.  “Mom?”

She’d looked up, a warm smile spreading across her face the moment she set on eyes on me.  “There you are.  I’ve been wondering when you were going to get out of bed.”

I’d slowly walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, the overwhelming sense of instability taking over me automatically.  “I’ve been up.  I thought you were going to call before you came over.”

She’d laughed a little.  “Do I really need to be making an announcement when I’m coming over to see you, Justin?”

“I dunno.”  I’d just shrugged and let the refrigerator door slam shut.  “I guess I just wanted to shower first, that’s all.”

“What do I care if you’ve showered yet, silly?  I know you’ve stopped living in your own filth, mostly thanks to Melanie’s persistence.  If you want to take a shower, feel free.  I’m still unpacking the suitcases anyway.”  She’d gotten up and rubbed my back a little as she walked over to the counter and refilled her coffee mug.  “It’s good to see you baby.”

“Yeah.”  I’d forced a smile, but inside I was ready to puke.  I hadn’t really talked to my mom in a couple of weeks, because I’d been so busy with Trace and well...Mel too.  The last encounter we’d had, she’d basically grilled me into coming home, so I guess I was still a little big angry with her because of that.  I mean, I knew I couldn’t avoid going home forever, but I felt like I was being forced, and being forced into things made me feel helpless.  

I hate feeling helpless.

I’d quickly excused myself then, so I could take that shower.  The dogs tried to follow me of course but in my frustration I’d barked at them to go lay down, causing them to run away, whimpering.  Thankfully, my mom didn’t seem to think anything of it.  She just smiled and told me to come find her when I was done.  So here I am, sitting in the bathroom with my cellphone in hand.  I texted Melanie because I’m fucking scared out of my wits being here alone with my mom, and I told her I needed her to come back.  Of course she hasn’t answered me.  She’s probably off somewhere laughing at me because I’m so pathetic.  I can feel the rage growing in the pit of my stomach.  I clench my hand around my phone and raise my fist, ready to throw it against the mirror.  I can picture it shattering into a thousand tiny pieces, and maybe..just maybe I could...

My phone starts to ring before I can get the sick thoughts into my head.  I look at the ID, after I’ve calmed down enough to do so, and sigh when I realize that it’s Trace calling me.  “Yeah,” I grunt into the phone, even though I should know better than to give him an attitude.

“Whoa.  You wake up with a shitty attitude or something?,” he laughs into the phone, and I can hear him start up his car.  “You better get out of the mood man.  I know your Mom is heading over there, and you don’t want to start more shit with her now.”

“She’s already here, asshole,” I snap at him.

“So what, you locked yourself in the bathroom because you can’t talk to her?,” he chuckles.

I really wish he didn’t know me so well.  “I hate you.”

“Hey, its just what she told my mom that you’d do.  You think I don’t hear about this shit from my sister? She’s like my family spy, so I don’t have to deal with being on the phone with my mom every night.  She’s on her rampage again, complaining that I’m still single. I’m just not in the mood to deal with it right now.”

Trace has always had a love hate relationship with his mother, and right now its sort of on the borderline of hate.  She was disappointed when Trace’s engagement ended with Elisha, because she really liked her and thought she was the right girl for him.  I dont think she could really take the time to understand why the relationship ended like it did.  And I know she never understood how badly the situation with Kerri and I affected him.  It’s not her fault.  I mean, she just wants him to be happy and both of them are so stubborn they’ll never be able to see completely eye to eye.  I love Trace’s mom of course. I always will.  She basically helped raise me.  I just wish she wasn’t so opinionated when it comes to what Trace wants to do or who he wants to be with.  I’m not even sure if she’d accept Tarin either, because that girl is so on the edge and gutsy.  I know it would kill Trace if she trashed talked his new girlfriend too, and I know thats the reason why he hasn’t made an effort to talk to her about it.  It makes me wonder too, if he’s even going to bring Tarin back home when we go to the wedding.  

I hate to admit it, but I’ll be completely surprised if he does decide to take that step.  I’d tell him that he should go for it but honestly...I cant even make the right decisions to benefit my own life.  I seriously doubt that Trace would take any of my advice to heart, and I don’t feel like getting hurt if he lashed out at me.  For now, it’s better if I just leave his relationship to him, until I get more of my sanity back.  “So it’s okay for you to hide from your mom?,” I shoot at him.

“Hey, things with you and Lynn aren’t horrible.  Yeah, they could be better but she’s not out to make you feel guilty about things.  She worries about you, Justin.  She wants you to come home, and I know it pisses you off that she’s kind of forcing you to. But shit, I think you need to do it too.  Stop being a fuckin pussy and go talk to her.  I’ll be there soon anyway, so you won’t have to be alone with her for long.”

I’m kind of confused, because I don’t remember asking Trace to stop by today.  In fact, I was pretty sure he was going to spend the weekend with his girl and their other friends.  “Why are you coming here?”

“We’re getting the tuxes today,” he sighs.  “Didn’t your mom tell you that?”

I’m an idiot.  She did call the other day, but I was so spaced out...too busy staring at Mel’s ass as she bent over to tie that garbage bag up that I wasn’t listening to a damn thing she was saying over the phone.  I’m sure the point of her call was probably to remind me that Mel was going away this weekend and that we were going for a tuxedo fitting.  But I’m not about to admit to Trace that I was too busy staring at Melanie to pay attention to that information.  “Probably.  I have a shitty memory.”

“Yeah, whatever . You were probably thinking about Melanie naked or some shit.”

“Fuck you.”

“Whatever.  I’ll see you in a little bit.  Try to jerk off before I get there though huh?,” he laughs.  “I don’t feel like waiting around for you, and I don’t have any naked pics of Melanie to help you through the process.”

I hang up on him, irritated as ever. I try to tell myself that he’s just an asshole.  But I find that I can’t get his stupid comments out of my head.  Suddenly I’m picturing her, standing in the shower with that amazing smile of hers.  She tells me to come to her, and I just...lose myself.  I get in the shower with her, and in seconds the steam and hot water are all around us.  She holds me close.  We kiss a little, but mostly I just lean into her naked form and let her warmness envelope me.  She whispers crazy shit in my ear, and I feel her hands travel downward, where I’m hard.  It feels amazing when she touches me and I slip further away, becoming completely lost in her eyes and smile.  She lets go of me and tells me she wants me inside her.  So I fall deep, and hard into her, propping her against the shower wall and pressing my lips hard into hers as we make love.  It’s just right.  We’re so right.  And I’m in love with her...

I’m standing in the shower, and the water is so cold now.  The steam is gone and my skin is wrinkled.  I’m out of breath and I look down to find my hand where I wish it wasn’t.  I feel like kicking myself, because I remember what Trace said and I hate that he was right.  It’s a good thing I did that now, because it’s been a long time and I'm sure my mom is wondering what's taking me so long.  I just hope Trace hasn't gotten here yet, because all he's going to have to do is take one look at me and just know that I'm a horny bastard.  I really don't feel like hearing it today.  Not today when she's so far away.

My legs are wobbly and I’m shaking just a little bit.  I have to sit down, and I manage to brace myself against the sink as I wrap a towel around my waist before finding refuge on the cold tile floor.  It dawns on me that it’s the first time I’ve had any kind of sexual fantasy that included real sex with a woman, since the kidnapping.  It was never like that with Kerri.  I never fantasized about her.  I never really had to because she was always there, plus the fact that I don’t think I ever longed for her that much.  The sex we had was security sex, and that’s really fucked up for me to say I know...but it’s the truth.  Sleeping with Kerri reassured me that Shane was wrong and that I wasn’t gay.  That I was still capable of “sexual performance”, and it also helped me to get Shane out of my head when he was putting me down.  This is different though.  I want to feel Melanie like I had wanted to feel Britney and Cameron at one point.  Only... I think my sexual feelings for Melanie are even stronger than that.  It’s like I have this physical hunger for her.  One that can’t be cured until I actually have her.  But that can’t happen.

It’s not supposed to happen, according to her.

After awhile I’m able to breathe normally, and I feel my legs become strong again.  I stand up, and look in the mirror.  What’s usually a pale representation of myself, has been replaced with color and a half smile.  I look like the cocky bastard I’ve always been, and it’s weird...almost like I’m greeting a long lost friend.  I put my hands to my face, and frown when I feel the stubble there.  So I shave, gel my hair so it doesn’t stand on end like the unkempt mess it usually is, and throw on my clothes.  I actually look normal.  I stand back just to reassure myself of this, and I find that I’m right.  It’s weird.  It’s like I’m looking back at an old picture of myself, but this time...it’s actually me.  I don’t look tired.  The bags aren’t under my eyes anymore.  There’s a sort of laughter in my eyes again.  That mischievous gleam that tells the people closest to me that they shouldn’t trust me because I’m libel to play a prank on them.  I feel like crying.  

It’s really me again.  

I feel like I’ve just been reborn.  I have a second chance, and I know I should take it.  I gotta stop being a miserable bastard and I know I’m on the right path.  If things go right, if I just take my moms opinion in stride, not treat Trace like a piece of shit, and start to appreciate Mel a hell of a lot more this will all work out.  I have a real chance to be completely happy, even though certain things I’ve done in the past make me feel like I don’t deserve this.  But I shouldn’t think about the past.  This is now.  And two of the most important people in my life are waiting for me downstairs.  I need to make the effort for them today, and try not to think about myself so much.  Of course I miss the hell out of Melanie too, and I wish that she was here and able to spend the day with us, but I know I have to be happy that she’s getting to do what she wants to do too.  

I do the best I can to put my sexual desires out of my head as I make my way back downstairs.  I can make my mom’s voice out in the kitchen laughing about something, followed by Trace’s as well.  I suck in a breath, knowing that I have to face them both right now and I really don’t want to be fake...but I don’t want to let on to anything either.  I stretch out my arms a little bit, and finally persuade myself to enter the kitchen.  Trace is sitting at the table, and my mom is planting a large plate of food in front of him.  I can see his mouth watering from the doorway, and the very smell of my mother’s cooking drives me into sensory overload.  It’s something I’ve missed.  The last couple of times she’s come here we’ve always gone to lunch or dinner, or ordered something in.  I’m surprised that she cooked too.  It means that she’s in a really good mood, and I guess that’s a good thing.

It’s something I shouldn’t take for granted.

“Don’t worry,” my mom laughs at me, as Trace starts to dig into his food with a child like grin.  “I fixed you a plate too.”

I don’t think I’ve ever sat down at my own table so fast, or had this much of an appetite for anything in a really long time.  I love Melanie’s cooking of course, and I’m always glad to eat whatever meal she prepares for us.  But there’s just something about momma’s cooking that makes me feel whole, and warm.  It reminds me of where I come from, and of better days gone by.  It makes me long for my grandparents too, and while it almost makes me sad to think I haven’t seen them in such a long time, it gives me a reason to think more positively about the wedding and going home.  “Thanks momma,” I say with a soft smile as she puts the food in front of me.

Trace and I eat like two starving dogs, while my mother sips her coffee and looks at her magazine.  It’s hard for me not to start questioning this situation.  Like...does she have some plan for me in mind?  Is she trying to bribe me with a home cooked soul food breakfast?  Hell, maybe I should stop being so damn paranoid.  She’s my mother for Christ's sake.  I need to trust her and know that she loves me.  I’ve had enough of the battle, and in order to change my life even more for the better I have to let those last walls I have against my mother crumble.  There’s no reason for them anymore.

We finish up our meals, having wiped our plates clean, and my mom tells us to hurry up so we’re not late for our tuxedo fitting. Trace and I exchange glances and I roll my eyes, because I hate this kind of thing.  I have to do too many fittings for business related crap, and I have a tuxedo in my closet upstairs. But I guess since this is for family, my mom wants everything to be new.  We all pile into Trace’s SUV, since he’s offered to drive, and I decide to sit in the back while my mom takes the passenger seat.  They make small talk, but I tune them out.  I use the time to stare out the window and revel in everything that’s going on.  I figure it will probably be the only chance I have today to keep to myself and just...think.

I miss Melanie.

I try to contain myself, I really do.  I manage to keep my cell phone contained in my pocket as we pull up to the tuxedo place.  But then, I start to think about the wedding I’m going to, the fact that it’s back home, and how badly I want Melanie to be there.  I don’t even realize I’ve pulled out my phone and sent her a text telling her to please come home, until I’ve pressed the send button.  I cringe a little bit, because I know she’s going to be annoyed with me.  I mean, I’m with my mother and I should be focusing on the time I’m spending with her right now.  But I guess I just can’t.  It’s like Melanie has taken me over, and I can’t really focus on anything else without her here.  I sigh heavily when she doesn’t respond back to me, and reluctantly get out of the car and follow my mother inside the store, Trace following behind me.

“Why don’t you boys go on and start looking through,” my mom tells us, motioning to a far wall filled with black and grey tuxedos.  “Don’t try anything on before you show me.”

Trace and I roll our eyes at the same time, but I know we’re both thankful to go off on our own.  We walk over to the wall, and take a section each to sort through.  It’s quiet at first, and I’m a little confused because usually Trace would start to ramble on about something pointless to get me to ease up.  Just by glancing over at him though, I can tell everything isn’t a hundred percent.  He looks a little tired, and sort of annoyed.  I debate whether or not to point it out, but I’m distracted when my cell phone chimes in my pocket.  I can’t stop the smile from spreading on my face either when I pull it out to find that Melanie has responded to my message.

Grow up Justin.  Aren’t you supposed to be entertaining your mom?  Give your phone to Trace to hold. I know he’s with you.

“Well. You sure are smiling like an idiot.”

Trace breaks me out of my bliss, and I’m forced to look up at him.  I try to stop smiling, but I find that it’s useless.  Just knowing that she’s thinking about me right now, is enough to make me smile for the next couple of hours.  I just shrug.  “It’s just Mel.  I miss her, you know?”

He rolls his eyes.  “It’s one damn weekend, Justin, and it’s not like you’re alone.  I’m here and your mom came all the way up from Memphis to be here.  It’s like you’re not greatful for that or somethin’.”

I feel my face begin to burn a little bit.  I know he has a point, but he doesn’t understand what’s going on with me right now.  Granted, he doesn’t know how deeply I’ve fallen for the girl, and I doubt it’s a great idea to go telling him.  But he is Trace, and I know that if I can’t talk to him about this...about the way I feel...I can’t tell anybody.  “I am greatful,” I say softly.  “It’s just...weird, you know?  I feel like part of the life has been sucked out of me with her not being here.  It’s not just a longing for somebody to be here, I just miss her.  She always knows what to do and say, Trace.  She can make me laugh...” I smile and look down at the floor, to try and hide it.  “She can make me laugh like nobody else has been able to in awhile.”

“Damn.” He shakes his head, and pulls a suit off the rack.  “You’ve really gone off the deep end this time, man.”

“Yeah...” I barely hear him though, because I’m too busy texting her again.  I try to explain to her that I need to text her a couple of times an hour so I don’t go insane.  Then I ask her about what style of suit she thinks I’d look better in.

Justin I said you could text me. I didn’t mean you had to write me a book.  And I already know you’re insane, texting me isnt going to change that  :p  Grey is a nice color. You should get a bolo tie. Tell Trace to get one too.

I smile.

“You’re talking to her, aren’t you?,” Trace chuckles. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Mel says we should get bolo ties,” I laugh.

He pauses his search for a suit and looks up at me.  He has a funny little smile on his face that tells me how much he really does like Melanie, and his attitude is simply being created by something else that’s going on.  “She’s a random nut.”

“She’s great.” I tell him, smiling softly as I shove the phone back in my pocket and start to rifle through the suits again.

“Look Justin,” Trace sighs.  “She’s an awesome girl.  I’m not gonna lie, I like her a lot but you need to be careful.”

“Fuck, Trace.” I snap at him.  “I’m not in the mood for another one of your holier than thou lectures right now.”

“Dude!,” he exclaims, dropping the suits draped over his arm onto a chair behind him.  “You’re going into raptures about how you miss her and how she’s so damn wonderful.  It’s just a weekend and you’ve spent most of the afternoon texting her.  I mean, fuck, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself but it seems like you’re getting a little bit too obsessive here.”

“Me? Obsessive?” I scoff.

He narrows his eyes, an ever knowing expression more than apparent on his face.  “Yeah, you.”

I just roll my eyes and decide not to start trying to make a point with him.  Normally I would, because I get so hot headed.  But hell, I know I’m going to have issues tonight as it is sleeping without Melanie just a few yards away from me.  I realize it’s been months now, and I haven’t really been having the dreams since we’ve formed our little friendship.  But I don’t know.  My protector is far away, and I’m a little vulnerable right now.  I’m almost contemplating having an all night movie fest just to make sure Shane doesn’t come to plague my dreams tonight.  It fucking blows too.  I don’t want to be like this right now...or ever.  I’m supposed to have grown...started to move on, and lately I’ve been feeling like I have.  

But I know myself.

And I know Shane.

“You wanna stay over tonight?,” I speak up softly after a few minutes of debating how pathetic I’m going to sound asking him.  

“Isn’t your mom going to be there?,” he asks, seemingly unfazed by the question.

“Well yeah....” I trail off and pull a suit off the rack, studying it like I actually care.  “I just thought, you know...maybe it would be easier.”

A small smile creeps at the corner of his mouth, and he shakes his head a little bit.  “Justin if you feel more comfortable with me in the house just say it.”

“I don’t know how I feel.” I grunt.  “I was just asking you a question.”

“And I’m supposed to drop whatever I’m doing and say okay? Your my boy, Justin.  I’ll be here for you if you need me.  But I can’t entertain you twenty four seven while Melanie is away.  That’s why your mom came.  Besides, I think you two could use a night together to catch up on things.”

I groan inwardly.  Okay, I know he has a life.  I know his girl has probably packed their night full of stupid shit to do, and I shouldn’t be interfering.  This isn’t like before, when Trace had his heart set on making shit right for me.  He doesn’t care nearly as much about how terrified I still am about certain things, and I don’t know why in the hell I would think things were the other way around.  “It’s okay.” I say.  “It’s not a big deal.”

He seems to nod in agreement, and the topic is gone and forgotten after that.  My mom comes in after awhile and basically throws every suit selection Trace and I have picked into the ‘no’ pile, telling us to try harder and find something more traditional.  It’s a fucking suit and I feel like screaming that at her, but when she walks out and all Trace starts to do is laugh I know that I need to take it easy and not get so aggravated.  I pull out my phone and text Mel again, figuring it will ease my tension a little.

I had twelve suits all lined up, and Trace had about eight and my mom told us not to bother trying any of them on because she didn’t like them.  So now I have to start all over again.  I’m pissed.  I miss you.

I smile when she answers almost right away.

Your mom is a smart woman.  She hired me didn’t she?  The suits were probably ugly.  Maybe you should try a little harder.  I miss you too, but I’m not coming home.  Suck it up, bitch.

“Stop fuckin smiling and pick a suit, Justin.” Trace groans after awhile.  “You’ll have plenty of time to jerk off when you get home.  It’s a hormone thing with her. You need to get laid.  You’re not all deep into her and shit.  I can almost guarantee that.”

I just shake my head.  I hate that he can assume so much about us, when he hasn’t been around and doesn’t know half the shit we’ve been through.  “You have no faith in me at all.  And I guess I can understand why, but do you really have to shove it in my face? “

“I have faith in you now.  A few weeks ago it was a different story, but things have changed.  I’m just wary.  I mean if you really have feelings for her great, and in that case I want it to work out for you because I can tell that Melanie is a special girl.  You just gotta take it slow this time.  You know, you can’t let your dick get in the way.”

I smirk.

“Or your ego,” he continues

“Yeah...”

“Or your asshole side...”

“Trace.”

He laughs.  “Or your...”

“You can shut up now.” I shoot him a glare to prove my point.

“Sorry,” he says, still laughing.  “I can’t help myself sometimes.”

“I can’t help that you’re ugly, either.”

“Fuck you.”

“Y’all better be picking suits!,” my mother calls from somewhere behind us.  “We don’t have all day to waste!”

We turn to each other and laugh like we have so many times in the past.  I’m taken back. I remember when we were teenagers and I’d have to go get an outfit for an appearance. Trace would always tag along and my mom would always be there, yelling at us because we’d spend too much time goofing around.  I’d always be late to wherever it was I had to go, but I never seemed to care because I had fun being an idiot with Trace.  Right now I feel just like that.  It lights me up a little bit, it makes me feel good.  It makes me forget for a minute that Mel is gone...that Shane could come back to haunt me in my dreams.

“So are you ready for this big family reunion? I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve seen everyone,” Trace asks me after awhile.

I feel myself grow a little tense.  “Ready, no.  Prepared? I guess I’m getting there, because I have to be.  You know that.  Nanna and Poppa are all pissed off with me already, so I don’t need to go back and be a fucking idiot around them and especially not in their house.  They’ll probably throw me in the wood stove if I do that.”

“Ha. Yeah you’re probably right,” Trace agrees, throwing a few more suits down onto the chair.  “I think it’ll be fun though.  I know Rachel’s friends are throwing a couple of parties.  I can’t wait to just kick back and get fuckin wasted.  It’s been way too long, you know?”

I do plan on joining in on the festivities, even though I’m really not supposed to be smoking or drinking.  I think it’s time for me to get a break though, even if it’s going against a lot of things I’ve been working towards.  It’s only a week anyway.  I think I need that...just a week to forget about the year I’ve had and the shit I’ve dealt with.  “I’ll be right there with you,” I laugh.  “That’s one perk of getting dragged home, anyway.  Will Tarin be joining in?”

He sighs a little bit, and the playfulness fades from his expression.  “My mom heard that I’ve been seeing someone, probably from my sister even though I told her not to say anything.  She wants to meet her, but I haven’t discussed it with Tarin yet.  I don’t know if I want to deal with all that right now.”

I’m not surprised, but I figure since he’s decided to shove a whole bunch of crap in my face today, I’m allowed to do the same to him.  “Yeah but you two are getting pretty serious, right?”

“Yeah, and my mom has been on the warpath since I cut it off with Elisha again.” He rolls his eyes.  “Such a nice girl,” he says, in a high pitched southern voice.  “You had such a future, Trace.  Then you ruin it, and for what?”

I laugh heartily.  “You probably just confused the hell out of her.  You were with Elisha for what? A good three years?  She probably had your kids names all picked out and shit.”

“So?,” he says, annoyed.  “I can’t go off and marry a girl I’m not in love with anymore, can I?”

“Hey, I’m just sayin’,” I flash him a cheesy grin.  “You point out my flaws all the time.  So I’m giving you a taste.”

“I’m going to try these on.”  He slings the suits he’s chosen over his shoulder, angrily.  “You’re a dick.”

“So are you.”

But he doesn’t try to defend himself.  He turns his back on me, and pauses at the doorway to get my mothers nod of approval before venturing on into his dressing room.  I just shake my head.  It’s crazy how I’ve forgotten a lot of Trace’s issues and how stubborn he can be at times.  I tell myself that he’s a lot stronger than I am right now though, and he can handle whatever issues he’s having just fine.  I know his relationship will work out, because I can tell he really cares about Tarin and she’s good for him because she’s self reliant and doesn’t need him to tend to her every beck and call.  I smile because I’m happy for him, but I frown because I wish I had the same kind of stability in my own life.

“You doin’ okay baby?”

My mother is beside me now, surveying the suits that I’ve strewn across the leather bench.  She’s smiling and that’s a good thing.  It means she can deal with the new set of suits I’ve picked out and I won’t have to go on another hunt.  “I’m okay.” I force another smile.  “I thought I would try these on.”

“Sure.  Why don’t you try that nice grey one first.  I think that might be a winner.”

I shrug and do as she asks.  I change quickly, and survey myself in the mirror for a moment before I go back out to meet her.  It’s been a long time since I’ve worn a suit like this, and again...it’s like seeing an old version of myself.  I don’t know how to feel about it.  I feel like this is the first step to me getting back into a lot of things.  Not just family, but my career...and dealing with people.  I can’t tell if I’m ready.  I feel ready, but then...I’m still so scared about so much.  I try to put it all out of my head though.  Now isn’t the time to stress myself out, because my mom is here and so far the day has been going pretty decent.  I just hope it lasts.  I hope my mom can see past things, and forget about a lot of things.  I really just wish she could look at me and see her son for once, her best friend.  Not her broken down shell of a son.  Not her son that has issues.

I just want her to love who I really am again.  Not who I’ve temporarily turned into.

(continued next post)