June 2003
Orlando, FL

Sitting cross-legged on her bed with her laptop balanced on her knees, Courtney was searching the internet for a good OB/GYN in North Carolina before she was scheduled to start her internship the next week.   

Despite making the appointment and paying the money, she’d backed out of the procedure at the last minute. In spite of everything, the baby was a part of JC that she wanted to keep for herself.

Recognizing her mother’s footsteps outside the bedroom door, she quickly shut the laptop before the door opened.

Her parents, in their role of JC’s biggest fans, were already pressuring her enough to go back home. She knew if she told them about her pregnancy, the pressure from her old-fashioned parents would increase a hundredfold.

Though they were trying to be supportive, they didn’t understand.

“I think you should call him, Courtney; he seemed very upset.” Her mother walked into the room carrying a box filled with what Courtney assumed were some of her belongings from JC’s house.  

Unable to face him, her parents had gone over that afternoon to retrieve her things for her.  

“Mom, please.” Courtney groaned, dropping her head into her hands.  

She felt the bed dip under her mother’s weight as she sat down beside her. ““Sweetheart, your father and I have been married for thirty years – do you think we haven’t had our disagreements.” Her mother stroked her hair once and then rested her hand on Courtney’s shoulder. “Whatever it is, I know the two of you can fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix, mom,” Courtney answered despondently, staring at the wall. “I just want a normal life, and I can’t have one with him.” She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears and wishing her mother would leave the subject alone.

It was frustrating enough trying to convince herself this was what she wanted without having to convince everyone else too.

“I just don’t understand what has changed, Courtney?” Beside her, she heard her mother breathe a deep sigh. “You knew what he was and what he wanted from the beginning.”

“I’ve changed, mom!” Courtney yelled, recoiling from her mother’s touch. She hadn’t meant to snap at her but confronting the truth in her mother’s words wasn’t something she was ready to do, and she immediately felt bad when she opened her eyes and saw the hurt on her mother’s face. “I’m not that nineteen-year-old girl who thought it was so cool that her boyfriend was in a boyband anymore.” She continued with a softer tone.

“Fine, Courtney.” Her mother stood up from the bed and smoothed the front of her slacks. “I’ll leave it alone – I just hate to see you throw away all those years together and give up on someone who truly loves you. Not everyone finds a love like that in their life.”

Courtney didn’t answer, returning her gaze back to the wall.

“I hope you’ve thought this through, Courtney – your father put the rest of your things in the garage.” With another deep sigh, Courtney’s mother offered her final thoughts on the subject and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

She sat in silence for a while, thinking of him – his smile, his kiss, the way he touched her, and the sound of his voice; everything about him hovered over her.

She knew he loved her and she didn’t need for her mother to say it; but as much as he told her that he needed her in his life, in her mind, he’d done nothing in their eight years together to prove it to her.

May 2013
North Carolina

“How do I look?” Twirling at the bottom of the stairs, Harper modeled her “90s Day” outfit to Lance before school: JC’s jersey worn over a white t-shirt and tucked into a pair of acid-washed jeans rolled up at the ankles. A pair of white high-top sneakers and a poofy side pony-tail with a white scrunchy completed her look.

“You look great, Harp. All you need now is a walk-man with a Hootie and the Blowfish cassette.”

Harper furrowed her brow. “Hootie and the who?”

Lance shook his head. “Don’t worry about it Harp; give me your best vogue.” He took his phone from his pocket and snapped a few pictures.

From her spot at the kitchen counter, Courtney looked up from the work e-mails she’d been reading. “You’re not posting that online, are you?”

Lance turned to Courtney. ‘Uh, yeah.” He scoffed. “Twitter loves cute kids, and I have the cutest kid ever right here.” He swiveled back around to Harper to continue taking more pictures. “I would be remiss if I didn’t share this iconic look with the world.”  

Courtney wanted to protest, but when she saw Harper standing with both hands on her hips and her face split in a toothy grin, she just sighed. “Fine, but one from the back – I don’t want her face all over the internet.” She grumbled, taking a sip of her coffee and returning to her e-mails.

May 2013
Los Angeles, CA

The sun streamed through the windows, the light playing lively on the hillside when JC shuffled into the kitchen at 6am. Outside the window, birds were singing their morning symphonies; it was a beautiful LA morning, but JC was not feeling the effects.

He’d worked all night in the studio and, when he finally made it to bed, it felt like he’d only been asleep a few minutes before the alarm rang out.

He plugged the coffee machine in and began preparing his cup for his first coffee of the morning.

While the machine was heating up, he leaned against the counter and pulled out his phone to check the news and any messages he’d missed while he slept.

The only waiting message was from Lance.

Rubbing his tired, swollen eyes, JC opened it up; curious what Lance needed so early in the morning.

The message said simply, “Look what I found,” but attached to the message was the picture of a little girl’s back. He didn’t recognize the kid, but he recognized the red jersey she wore that read his initials and the number 5.

He’d been trying to find it for what seemed like ages.

He smirked, pleasantly amused, and decided to give Lance a quick call.

As the phone rang, he balanced it between his ear and shoulder, pouring his coffee.

“Hey, man.” Lance picked up.

“Dude, where did you find that jersey?” JC took his coffee into the living room and sat down, powering on the television.

“Oh, you know, I was just going through some old things.” Lance sang on the other end.

JC nodded, taking a sip from his mug. “Who’s the kid?”

“Uh, nobody, uh..” Lance seemed to be fumbling for the words. “Uh, just a friend’s daughter. Nobody you know.”

JC raised a brow at Lance’s oddly vague but specific statement.

“Okay.” JC put his coffee down and surfed the channels on TV but turned it off when nothing interested him. “Why are you acting so weird?”

“No reason, just wanted you to know in case you thought it was someone you know…. because it’s not.” Lance laughed, nervously.

JC was contemplating his friend’s strange behavior when he heard a familiar voice in the background. “Hey, Lance, did you make sure Harper brushed her teeth before you dropped her at school?” It was very faint, but he would never forget that voice.

A voice that could still make him physically ill after all the time that had passed.

“Yeah, Courtney, she brushed and flossed,” Lance responded, verifying what JC already knew. “Shit.”

“COURTNEY!” JC exclaimed in a tone of frenzy. “You’re with Courtney?!?”

Lance sputtered, “Did I say it was someone you didn’t know?”  

JC rolled his eyes and sat back on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you serious, man? This is Justin and Britney all over again.”

“Why should I have to stop being friends with someone because you were a bad boyfriend?” Lance scoffed, defending himself.

“Wait, so, that’s Courtney’s kid?” With that realization, JC sat forward, choosing to ignore that fact that one of his best friends was apparently still hanging out with his ex behind his back.

“Yes, that’s the Harpmeister.” Lance replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“How old is she, Lance?” The wheel in JC’s mind began turning like a rusty?wheel?coming to life after centuries of nonuse

“She just turned nine in January, why?”  

JC felt something drop in his chest. He did the math in his head. “Who is her father, Lance? Have you met him?”

“I don’t know – Courtney said it’s some guy she met in a bar after you broke up.” Came Lance’s nonchalant answer.

“Lance, I think Courtney lied to you.” A terrible ache bloomed in JC’s throat, swiftly followed by a tumult of emotions – alienation and loneliness, frustration, and anger. Hanging onto his composure by a thread, he scrubbed a hand over his face.  “I think that kid is mine