I remember my very first rainstorm. It was when I was six years old on the day that I realized my mother was never coming home. Like it was yesterday I recalled how optimistic my father had been, telling me that Mommy was just on a quick vacation. Sometimes grown ups took vacations to get away from the stresses in life.

I wasn‘t a stupid kid. I knew better. Somewhere in the back of my mind I always knew that I’d never see my mother, again. I always knew that I’d made the worst mistake of my life by letting her catch me move things with my mind. Maybe, just maybe, if she’d walked into my room a half a second later, or if I hadn’t been making my toys float through the air, at all, she would still be at home.

Two months after she disappeared I was standing in my front yard in front of my favorite pink bike. It was raining, hard, terribly hard. The faster my heart beat the tougher the raindrops became. I knew she wasn’t coming back. I just knew it. It was the first day I accepted that my mother was never coming back, and the last day I ever saw my favorite pink bike.

Somewhere between my misery and rage it had floated clear into the air and across the street where it was struck by lightening. It came crashing to the ground, the pink tassels on the handlebars were burnt to shreds and every bar on the bike was bent to unfathomable levels.

At that point, I not only hated my powers for taking my mother away from me, I hated them for taking my bike away from me, too.

“How soon can we get a plane out?” The sound of his voice shook me out of my thoughts.

That voice. The only thing on the planet that could ease the storm raging outside of the walls of LAX. I studied Justin, standing next to me, shoulder to shoulder at the LAX ticket counter.

“I’m sorry sir, but after the sudden change in weather most of the planes have been grounded or delayed. The soonest I can get you out to Vegas is…” She typed away on her computer, then looked at us, “Tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.” Justin and I walked away from the counter, quietly.

"I have to... I have to go home. I have to find Burns. Take me home, Justin, please.”

“Trev, I understand that you’re frantic. Believe me, I understand. But we can’t fly in this weather. We can’t drive in this whether. Maybe if you could… control it…”

My eyes shot to his as a heavy wave of thunder shook the building. “That’s the fiftieth time you’ve suggested I try to control it--”

“I know.”

“If could control it, I would control it.” Another crack of thunder, then a dash of lightening that made his eyes come alive in the dim lights before quickly returning to normal. I put a hand on my forehead, “I suppose we could buy a ticket now and I’ll leave in the morning. But I want to get a hotel right down the way. I want to leave first thing in the morning, Justin.”

"I'm coming with you." He insisted.

"You can't." I began walking back towards the ticket counter, knowing that he would follow me. "You have Steven. You have all this legal bullshit and Jennifer’s crazy ass. Can you imagine if you’re not at your house at precisely 10:15 tomorrow morning? She will fucking lose the very few marbles she has left, Justin. It’s likely that she’ll blow up on whoever is closest to her and, knowing Steven, he’ll be the first one in her face the moment she crosses the front door. Jesus, think of the bloodshed." I momentarily spaced out when a vision of Jennifer strangling Steven until he was no longer capable of speech and standing over his body immediately after, stunned that she’d blacked out so badly.

"My mother will watch Steven."

“What about Jennifer, Justin?”

“I’ll handle Jennifer.”

“That’s funny because from what I’ve seen the only person doing the handling when Jennifer is in the room… is Jennifer. Regardless of gender, size or status. She’s a thug. I don’t fuck with thugs and neither should you. You’re staying.”

He opened his mouth.

I spoke before he could, “Do you think I could borrow a couple of hundred dollars for the ticket?"

After I asked this, Justin grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks and making me face him. "Trevion! No."

"Justin." I stammered,. "I'll pay you back. I just... I don't have any money. All of my cards are at home." My eyes narrowed, "Are you going to let me borrow the money?" I asked him.

"Of course... Of course I will. I just want you to slow down for a minute. I want to talk about--"

"There's nothing to talk about!" I beamed, holding my hands out, "Not with you. Not with anyone. I just need Burns.”

"No, don't walk away from me." He grabbed my arm, again, when I tried to turn away, "Relax."

I could feel my nostrils flaring, "Don't... Tell me... To relax." When I realized I was being a little unfair, I forced myself to soften, "You don't understand."

"Help me understand."

I stared up at him, every inch of me feeling intense, but didn’t say a word. A storm like Los Angeles had never seen was sprouting wings behind me.

"Okay." Justin relented. "Okay, I'm buying our tickets right now." He didn't let go of my arm, but pulled me towards the ticket counter.

“My ticket. Singular. You can't leave Steven."

"He'll be fine."

"It's not him that I'm worried about. Who knows what would become of the poor soul who finds himself alone with the midget."

He smiled down at me. "Don't make jokes." He whispered, "I'm the one that should be making jokes." We reached the counter and he pulled his wallet out. The receptionist behind the desk smiled politely at both of us and took his money, booking us both for the next flight to Vegas, which was at six am-- five hours away.

--

“Thank you.” I whispered later on that night. I’d just gotten off the phone with Kim, telling her that it was okay to drive the Passat back to Las Vegas once the weather calmed down, and was now sitting on the edge of a bed at Motel 6. I rolled up the too long sleeves of a dress shirt Justin let me borrow, smelling like fresh soap and shampoo.

He’d just gotten out of the shower himself with a towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else. He threw me a look and smiled as he dialed a number on the motel’s phone.

“Hi, I’d like to request a wake up call.” He said into the receiver, never taking his eyes off of me.

I looked up at him, “Tell them it’s for three am. I want to get there super early.”

“If you could wake us up super early,” He smirked, “That would be great. Yes. Three am. Thank you.”

I waited for him to hang up, then leaned over and took a big chunk of his towel. I pulled until he was standing in front of me where I sat cross legged on the mattress.

“Well…” I said, tucking my finger into the soft cotton, “I’d say we’ve gotten ourselves into quite the predicament here.”

He smiled down at me, “What’s that?”

“Well…” I climbed off of the bed, “You’re in a towel and nothing else. I’m in a shirt and nothing else. We’re at a motel, alone. In a room, with a lock. And Steven Timberlake is nowhere in the general vicinity, nor is any other human being. I’d say that we’re running about a 99.9% chance of getting busy without any interruptions. What I’m not sure of is if you and I are even capable of getting turned on when the risk of getting caught is eliminated. Maybe, in our various failed attempts at getting busy, we’ve become nothing short of sadistic voyeurs who can only really get their jolly’s off when there’s a room full of people less than ten feet away…” I smacked my lips, “Quite the predicament, indeed.” Slowly, I unfolded one flap of his towel, then the other and let it fall cleanly down his legs and onto the carpet. I took one look at him, eyebrows raised, and looked into his eyes. “Or maybe not.” He was hard as a rock.

“Maybe not.” Justin confirmed.

I touched him, a very light brushing with my fingers, then wrapped my hand all the way around him.

He sucked in a deep breath and covered my hand with his own. “What are you doing?” He whispered.

I came up on my toes and kisses his nose, then his lips and began pumping my hand against his shaft, “Were you at home sick on that day in Health class? Do you really need me to explain this to you?”

He held my wrist, tight, “You’re trying to forget.”

My jaw tightened, “I’m trying to be with you. An event that’s appearing more and more hopeless with each passing day. I think Lance will be in space by the time you and I finally get around to--”

“You know stuff about Lance?” His eyebrows crunched together.

I raised my eyebrows, “I have your dick in my hand. Do you want to talk about that now?”

“Not to talk about your mother at a time like this, but, I want you to not do this just to get your mind off of Louise.”

“I don’t want to think about that right now. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now there’s you. There’s me. There’s a bed.” I turned, motioned to the bed, then turned back to him, smiling, “Any questions?”

Justin swallowed, “None whatsoever.”

Together, we fell on the bed. The room was silent outside of our kisses, gentle touches and groans. It wasn’t long before we went from kissing to petting, fondling and pushing against one another eagerly. Every second that passed a new article of clothing was tossed aside until I opened my eyes I was only in my underwear. His skin was surprisingly soft against mine, his kisses were anything but. It was like a fire quickly growing out of control.

It was clear to me now. He and I would never be alone in a room again and manage to keep our clothes on at the same time. He unhooked my bra with an impressive ease and got rid of it even faster. I wasn’t shy. Not even when he bent down and took nipple in his mouth. He was so gentle and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was so tender once he was out of control, on the edge of climax. I wondered if he ever got rough, if he was a hair puller, a blouse ripper. Oh, my mind went wild.

When he put his mouth back on mine I pushed myself completely against him. He touched me intimately, hot, slick and eager. I opened my legs to him, hungry for anything. Anything that was more.

The kiss continued as he stroked me. As I grinded against his fingers he pulled my hand to his lips and kissed all my fingers, then my wrist. I stared up at him. The sensation was incredibly… from both points.

With an arm outstretched and hips that seemed to have a mind of their own, I said exactly what was on my mind. “I want you inside me. Now.” I knew he wanted to take the time to turn me one. What he didn’t seem to understand was that, after seeing what he could do, for the rest of our lives I would be turned on by the mere thought of doing anything even remotely physical with him.

He laid his body across mine, erection extremely present. For some reason, I felt like it was tonight or never. I just had to be with him.

Every second that we laid there grinding was another second that I was nowhere near close enough to him. I could feel him. I could taste him, but it wasn’t enough.

I pulled away and held his gaze. “Do you have a condom?” I looked up at him with big, hopeful eyes.

When he sat up he brought me with him, my knees straddling his waist. I kissed the side of his neck as he swept them off the floor and rustled clumsily through his jeans. The longer he took, the harder my kisses became. My fingers began to claw at him. Then my nails.

“I need you so bad.” I pressed myself against him and ground my hips in slow circles. “Hurry up.”

“Shit.” Then, finally, the unmistakable sound of tin foil disagreeing with the sweaty, frantic hands of a man with a hard dick and a woman to use it with. The storm raging outside was loud, almost obtrusive, and perfectly illustrated my complete frustration.

I pulled back and snatched it out of his hands. I tore it open with my teeth and crashed my mouth down onto his. The way he kissed me, how slowly and softly his hands moved, I could feel his tentativeness.

“Trev…” His breathing grew labored when I slid the condom right on. I laid back, keeping a tight hold on his arms, bringing him down with me. The moment I felt him against me, knowing he was completely naked and completely ready, elicited a moan from me so loud that I hardly recognized myself.

My eyes wet with tears when I realized how right this was. I pushed my underwear off of my legs and threw them to the ground. The moment I open my legs and his heat brushed against mine every inch of hesitancy seemed to seep out of him. His every limb melted into mine and our lips melded together.

He groaned deeply and pulled away, holding my face in a shaky hand. “I don’t want to do this because you want to forget. I want you to want--”

I pressed my finger roughly into his moving lips. The talking had to cease--now. “Stop--” I pushed myself up against him, wet and completely ready. We kissed, deeply, rolling across the bed. I slid up and down his shaft, slick and desperate. The sensation of him stroking me and being so terribly close to filling the hungriest part f me was overwhelming. “I don’t want to talk, anymore.” I reached between us and took him in my hand.

“You have no idea how much I need you.” He licked my lips, then suckled them, “I just want it to be, right…” His words drifted to a stop as I stroked him, hard and thick, positioning him at my opening. “I want you to be completely ready and I don’t think you’re ready. Wait… wait, wait, wait!” That was the last thing he said before his entire body convulsed. Once. Then twice. Then three times before his entire body stiffened and he collapsed against the mattress.

At first I thought I was imagining things. Then I held up my hand. It was soaked and covered with his semen. My gaze slowly fluttered to his chest where his smooth skin was covered with it, as well.

“No.” I mouthed while I fought back a smile and went to look up at him, completely prepared to give that speech.

You know the speech.

“It’s the first time. You were nervous.”

“It happens to the best of them.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Justin’s head was buried in the pillows and his hands were covering his face. I sat, staring down at him, wondering which speech would be the right one to give all the while fighting the grin on my face.

He sat up rather quickly.

I leapt back on the bed and tucked my feet under my legs, watching him scoot to the edge of the bed. He leaned on his knees, put his head back in his hands and stayed silent. Outside I could hear the crickets chirping amidst the rainfall.

For the first time in my life, the sickening need to hand out reassurance was too much to fight. I pull the sheets around my body and scooted over the Justin. His broad back was turned away from me and he was taking deep, steady breaths. I reached up to set my hand against his back, then pulled it away in mid air. After careful thought, I realized that this probably wasn't the best moment the be the heartless bitch I was so good at being.

To say I was shocked when I put my hand on his back and he pulled away from it like it was fire, would be an understatement. I would have been angry, even heartbroken, if I wasn't so busy fighting the smile on my face.

If I burst into laughter, which I really wanted to at that moment, I knew Justin would probably die right there on the spot. So I covered my mouth, and held it all in.

I cared about him that much.

I could thank Justin for one thing that night, however.

For a good half hour, he’d completely helped me forget about the bullshit with my mom.

--

That is, until the next morning came. The storm had passed. Or, at least, the storm outside. The night before had gone off with many hitches. Justin and I hadn’t had sex, and we both knew why. What we didn’t know was how to talk about it. Either one of us was too afraid to bring it up or neither of us wanted to bring it up. I didn’t know.

What I did know was that we hadn’t spoken. After Justin shrugged me away when I tried to comfort him the night before I’d hurried into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. For at least an hour I stood under a hot shower, even though I was already clean. When I came back out, he was asleep. He’d probably only been pretending. I was secretly thankful, either way, and I slipped under the covers and turned out the lights. We slept with our backs facing each other. Not once did we touch.

The next morning wasn’t much different. I’d woken up to the loud sound of him straightening up the room, a job that could easily be done quickly and quietly. It was clear that Justin wanted me to wake up, but he didn’t want to have to touch me to do it. We’d checked out of the hotel, gotten into his truck and started towards LAX without a word.

Not. One.

The moment he turned a corner and I could see the terminals and planes taking off I had a slight moment of panic. I was going back to Las Vegas. I was going back to Las Vegas to try and find out why my mother had no idea who I was. I couldn’t do that and have drama with Justin on my shoulders, too. I needed to know that I had something soft to fall back on after life knocked the shit out of me. I had to know that I had Justin. Not mad, not embarrassed, not weird.

Just Justin.

I threw him a look and he must have seen me out of the corner of his eyes because his entire face tightened. His lips, his jaw and probably his eyes behind those dark ass glasses he had on.

I spoke, anyway, turning in my seat to face him. "Look, Justin. I know this sort of sucks, but it doesn't have to be a big deal. Sex isn't always amazing the first time. We're not familiar with each other's body's. As time goes on we'll learn about each other. It'll get better." I reached out to touch his hand and when he snatched it away I was officially annoyed.

"Trev, do me a favor, okay? Just shut up." Justin’s first words to me all morning, ladies and gentlemen.

I cringed and mouthed, “Ouch,” that one hit home. All the way home. So much so that for the next five minutes I was unable to think up a retort. Unable to understand why he was being such an asshole. After all, it wasn't my fault that the sex had been so bad. Deep down, I knew that it wasn't me he was angry at, but himself. Of course, me being me, this knowledge meant little or nothing when put up against the need to throw a come back. "Well, excuse me. You'd think I was the one who was bad in bed last night."

His face broke. He hid it quickly. If I didn't know him as well as I did, I probably wouldn't have caught it.

I stared at him, wondering if he was seriously going to be like this. He made a turn so sharp that my head smacked against the window. Hard. I reached up and touched the back of my head mouthing another, “Ouch.” But was very careful not to be verbal about it. That’s me, Trevion the wallflower.

Justin stared blankly out of the window. I know if he hadn‘t seen the window just kick the shit out of my skull then he‘d definitely heard it. You‘d never know it looking at him, though. His face was empty. I could have bust out a Crayola right then and did a quick sketch on that blank face of his.

"Fine." I whispered, looking out of my killer window, wanting nothing more than to be out of that car and away from him. "You're always preaching to me about being more compassionate and the second I am you're a fucking dick about it."

"Stop." He said, his teeth clenched so hard that I closely watched them, waiting for them to shatter in his mouth.

"I care about you. I thought you cared about me, too. People who care about each other--"

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up, Trevion. Just shut up--"

"I--"

"Shut the fuck up!"

I was stunned, literally stunned.

It lasted almost five seconds.

My entire face reddened and when I felt myself fighting hot tears, I felt so angry. As he pulled into the airport entrance I had finally had enough. He had no right to treat me the way he was treating me. No right, at all. He knew what I was going through. He had been right there when my mother had looked at me with the empty eyes of a stranger. The fact that he could be this heartless when he knew that my life was in shambles made me see red. "Stop the fucking car."

He stared at me for so long I wondered if he even remembered that he was operating a moving vehicle.

"Are you deaf? I said let me out of the fucking car, now!"

To my complete shock, he actually stopped the car. I was expecting him to try to stop me at least once before my biting words finally forced him to relent. Oh, no. He pulled over to the side of the LAX entrance after my asking him just once, pissing off many drivers in his wake. He didn't even look at me as he pressed a button on his side, unlocking all of the doors.

It was early and I was scared. I would eat shit, of course, before ever telling him that.

"You're an asshole." I whispered, surprised at how shaky my voice was. I gathered my things quickly, struggling to hold the sloppy wad in my arms, and hurried onto the sidewalk. Horns beeped from all around us as I slammed the door closed.

I stood at the edge of the sidewalk, a part of me was actually convinced that he was totally playing a joke and was going to let me back in the car any second.

His tires screeched against the street. That's how fast he pulled off.

He didn't even look back.

--

As the plane took off, all eyes were on me. It was something I’d grown accustomed to, but I still was momentarily annoyed, then pissed off, then passive. Dealing with nosey ass sons of bitches was just something I was going to have to make my peace with as long as I was with Justin. Which didn’t look like it would be much longer, at the rate he was going.

"What the fuck are you looking at?!" I screamed, to no one in particular. Every eye on me shied away.

Hey, I never said I had to make my peace with it at that very second.

Maybe tomorrow.

Or the next day.

Or the month after that.

I let my head fall against the seat behind me. You'd think that a first class ticket would buy me fellow passengers with some god damn sense. No such luck. There was no point in trying to be nice to them, I thought, as the plane began to take off. They already had their minds made up about me. Never seen me, spoken to me or interacted with me in their life. That didn't matter. Their minds were made up thanks to US Weekly. They were one four page spread away from a really nastily worded letter from Trevion Spencer.

The woman to my extreme left was looking out of the window, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye every few seconds. She had her mind made up that I was a murderer. I was the reason Britney miscarried, you see.

The male flight attendant who'd promptly seated me and ignored my existence ever since thought I was a home wrecker. I was the reason that Britney and Justin were no longer together, you see. I tore them apart.

To the old man on my right, I was a whore. Thanks to his believing this, he hadn't taken his disgusting eyes off my breasts since the moment I‘d sat down. Even if he DID think I was a whore, he was crazy to think he had a chance.

His eyes stayed on my chest.

"The objects under this blouse are much smaller than they appear." I said to him. The stunned look on his face brought me immediate satisfaction.

They all thought I was the reason that Britney Spear's life was in ruins right now. They were sure of it, and they hated me for it.

Did it matter to them that I'd never seen or spoken to Britney in my entire life? Did they care that, exactly two months ago, I couldn't have told you what her latest song was, let along that she was pregnant with Justin Timberlake's baby? Of course not. None of that stuff was fun.

I wondered what Justin was doing at that very moment, as the plane took off, and immediately forced myself to think about something else.

I didn't want to think about what he was doing because I was so angry at him. The moment, literally the moment, that he kicked me out of that car, he‘d closed a door. I didn‘t know which door he‘d closed or how permanently that door would stay closed, but he‘d certainly closed it. Slammed it. Tore the damn hinges.

He hadn’t even tried to call me. Not once. What the fuck was that about?

There certainly wasn't a word in existence to describe my annoyance.

"Maybe he's tired of you, Trevion." I whispered to myself.

Everyone I'd ever cared about eventually tired of me.

Except for Burns. I was back at square one. Back to the way my life was before I'd met Justin. Just me, my dorm room and my Burns. It was what I'd been hoping for, for a long time. Now that I had it, I sure as hell didn't want it. All I wanted was to forget the way Justin had looked at me back in the room-- in the car, like it was all somehow my fault. I wanted to forget that the one chance we finally had to have sex, he fucked it up, and was angry at me for it. I wanted to forget all of that, because it was making me unspeakably offended.

I groaned out loud before promptly throwing my face into my hands. A flight attendant approached and asked me if I was a nervous flier. If I was, he informed, there were barf bags in the magazine compartment.

"No." I whispered, letting my head fall onto the back of the seat. "I'm not a nervous flier."

The attendant smiled. I might have noticed that he was devastatingly attractive if I was capable of thinking about anything other than Justin.

Two hours into the flight the captain informed us that we could turn on our cell phones and laptops.

My heart almost jumped to my throat. How had I forgotten that I had a cell phone?!

Stupid Trevion!

I pulled my phone out of my pocket quickly and immediately laughed the second it was in my hand.

When was the last time that I looked at a phone and the first thing that came to mind was a man? A man that I cared about enough to be as pissed the fuck off as I was right then? Never, that’s when.

I had to laugh at myself.

I flipped open the phone and called the second person who popped into my head.

He picked up after two rings. He'd clearly been sleeping. "You better be dead in a ditch."

"I am." I said, a smile immediately pushing my lips. "I managed to come back to life long enough to decide I was done being mad at you and dial your number to bug you for a few minutes."

"And then you'll die, again?"

"Sure."

A long pause followed, "Okay... Fine. Talk."

"Burns..." I sighed, deeply. The smile on my face was gone, now, and I think it came through in my voice, because he was instantly concerned.

"What is it, Trevion? What's wrong?"

I hadn't realized how hurt I was until my voice was breaking into the phone. I was struggling not to cry. I didn't want to be the woman who cried over a man. I definitely didn't want to be the woman who cried over her ridiculous mistakes. "Burns... What's wrong with me?"

He'd never heard me like this, not in a long time, and the panic in his voice did nothing to sooth me. "Where are you?”

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me?" I put my head in my hands and continued to fight the tears, "What the fuck is wrong with me?" I whispered.

"Trev..." He sounded so tired, "You've been through a lot." Was all he said. "Where are you?"

"In California. No... Not anymore. I'm flying, now."

A long silence followed this. "Um... Why?"

"Justin.” The asshole.

"Justin?"

"Yeah... Tall? Goofy? A couple of million dollars to spare?"

"Justin?"

"Timberlake."

"God... I was really hoping that whole thing with you and him was a really... Really long nightmare."

"Well... It isn’t. Not literally, anyway." I covered my eyes with my hands. "I know you're tired and I'm sorry, but... If you have a minute to talk... "

"For you... Trev... I have every minute in the world." His raspy voice was genuine, "I just need... Uh... " A loud thud echoed in the receiver. I was sure he'd fallen off of his bed, "I just need a couple dozen shots of espresso... No... Make that gin... And I'll be..." Another crash, "good to go."

I smiled, "What I wouldn't do to be in that apartment watching you stumble all over the place."

"I'm not in my apartment. And I‘m not…" Another crash, "Stumbling. Hey. Hey!" Most people would wonder why he was yelling, but I knew that was what Burns did when he was struggling to wake up, "When did you get a phone?!"

"Justin bought it for me. Where are you?”

“I’m out of town.”

“Why?”

“Research.” He groaned. "Okay... I'm in the mini fridge... I have my gin."

"Thank god for that."

"Tell me everything."

"Are you sure this will work without the notepad and the big purple office chair?"

"Oh, don't worry... I have my pad... Right here in front of me."

I rolled my eyes, "Shit, I forgot who I was talking to." I smiled. "What about the chair? Huh? Am I being charged for this? Is this conversation being recorded?"

"Trevion."

"Burns."

"Talk to me."

I was sure that with every word I said the people on the plane around me were quietly taking notes. Star magazine would certainly be interested.

I didn't give a damn. As long as I had Burns' ear to talk off, everything seemed simpler. Everything had a logical solution.

"I saw my mother today and she didn‘t remember me." When several seconds past without Burns' saying anything, I beamed, "Burns?"

“We can’t talk about this over the phone.”

“Why?”

A long pause. “It’s not safe.”

“Then when?”

“When I come home…” A moan, “Tomorrow morning.”

Another long paused, followed. “Burns?”

"I'm here." His voice was shaking, "Just pouring myself some more gin."

--

After my plane landed I took a cab back to campus, forced myself to eat something in the cafeteria and came back to the dorm. I took a long nap and when I woke the first thing I saw was Kim on her bed, reading. It was a sight I never would have believed I’d find comforting.

“How did I beat you here?” I asked.

She didn‘t answer. "Justin called about an hour ago. He asked me if you were alive."

"What did you say?"

"I said I didn’t know."

“Good. I hope he thinks I’m dead. He deserves the guilt."

"If it counts for anything, he sounded even more pathetic than normal."

"How thoughtful." I spat, throwing my purse on the bed.

"What happened?" Kim asked.

Without answering, I slowly made my way into the bathroom, started the shower at it's hottest setting, and slammed the door shut.

After a long, relaxing shower, I’d calmed down somewhat.

I stepped out of the shower, dried myself and changed. When I opened the door to the bathroom, Kim was standing there, phone in hand, eye rolling.

“Perfect timing.” She held it out, “It’s the guilty party.”

I snatched the phone from her and pressed ‘end’.

Her eyes widened, “That’s not very neighborly.”

“He’ll call back.” I said, making my way into the room.

I let it ring five times before picking it up. I held the phone against my ear and said nothing. I knew it was him, he was the only one that had the number. At that moment, I had nothing to say to him.

Absolutely nothing.

When he spoke, I barely heard him, my ears were pounding too loudly.

"Did you hear me?" I heard him ask. “I’m in the city.”

I reached up to scratch my eye, wishing that he would just die. My heart immediately sped, rejecting the very thought of that, and it only frustrated me more.

"I'm coming over." I heard him say.

Ten minutes later he was on the other side of the door. I stood in my room, holding the door in my hand, very prepared to slam it in his face if need be.

He was leaning against the doorframe, unshaven, clothes wrinkled. A mess.

Kim swept by us, looked Justin up and down, snickered and made her way down the hall. It took everything inside of me not to laugh with her, purely to piss him off. His eyes stayed on her, hard as rocks, as if he were fighting as hard as he could not to chase her down that hall and tackle her where she stood. Not until she was in the elevator, still laughing, did he take his angry eyes from her and focus them back on me.

We stood, staring. Each waiting for the other to say something.

I sure as hell wasn't saying anything. If he thought I was about to apologize he was not only out of his mind but completely clueless to the kind of person I was.

He took a deep breath, shot his eyes back down the hallway, once more, and frowned at me. "How many people have you told about this?" He asked, his voice conveying that he was almost frightened to hear the answer.

Good, I thought, you should be afraid.

"One or two." I shrugged.

"One or two?"

"Anyone who would listen, Justin. That's who I told."

"Wonderful."

"Isn't it?" I sang, looking towards the sky with a pleasant smile. After a minute or so, the smile fell from my face, and I clutched the door in my hand. "Are we done?"

"No."

"Well, then what?"

"Don't you have something you want to say to me?" He asked. The dude actually had the audacity to say those words to me, sternly.

"Not really." I laughed.

"You don't have anything to say? Nothing at all?"

"No, Justin. Maybe I should say it louder, since you don't seem to be getting it?"

"After what happened last night? You have nothing to say to me?"

"I think the real question here is... don't you have anything to say to me?"

"What could I possibly say?"

"I'm sorry, Trevion? I'm an asshole, Trevion? It was my fault that our first sexual encounter was a disaster, Trevion?--"

"Do you have to say that so loud?"

"Yes. Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me, Trevion? Let's give it another try, Trevion? My male pride was hurt last night and I therefore transformed into some psycho pod person from another planet, Trevion?--"

"I think I got it." Justin spat, holding his hand up with a truly frustrated look on his face. "Trevion." He spat, rolling his eyes.

"Are you sure?" I beamed. "Because I've got a million of them."

"I didn't doubt that." He said. His eyes narrowed away from me and down the hall. For a moment, I wondered what he was looking at that seemed to be holding his attention. I wondered if he had picked some random part of the hallway, like the banner for the RA meeting or dirt on the floor, to look at so he wouldn't have to look at me. He looked back to me, "Let's give it another try."

I stared at him blankly, then guffawed, unable to control it. "You're not serious." I said. "We're in the middle of a fight about how bad the sex was and you're propositioning me for more sex? Don't ever go into the stock market, Justin."

"Can't you take anything seriously? Honestly, Trev."

"Oh, honestly, Justin!" I beamed over exaggeratedly, throwing my hands up in the air. "What person under the age of 50 uses the word honestly to scold someone? Honestly, Trevion, you're such a heartless bitch. Honestly, why is Justin Timberlake such a jerk? Honestly, why does sex fuck everything up? Honestly, every... single... time."

"Did you take a pill last night that entices you to ramble out lists in the middle of an argument, or what?"

"No, but I did pop a few anti-premature ejaculation pills. Hey... you want a couple?"

"You're such a bitch."

"So, I've been told." I sighed, unaffected.

"I don't know why I love that about you."

I'd be lying if I said his words didn't immediately give me goose bumps, but I rolled my eyes to conceal their effect. "Because you've been worshiped your whole life and have developed a natural, almost predisposed attraction to abusive women, such as myself."

"Maybe." He whispered, smiling. "Or maybe I only tolerate one abusive woman, because I know... deep down, she's a pussy cat."

"Maybe you shouldn't use the word pussy until you can find your way around one."

"Damn." He flinched, his eyes squeezing almost all the way closed as he grabbed his heart. "More." He whispered.

"More, huh? I think that's what I was screaming out last night. A cry that went unanswered, of course."

"Come here." he whispered, reaching out and taking a big chunk from the bottom of my shirt. He didn't pull me but, somehow, I found myself inching closer to him.

"Is this seriously turning you on? Like the meaner I am to you, the longer you might last in bed?"

He tugged on my shirt, pulling my body towards his. When our chests touched, he wrapped his arm around my waist and tried to put his lips on mine. I pulled away, slightly flustered at the fact that he actually was turned on.

"Has that competitive freak that lives inside you come out to play? I've got to say, if he's got as much stamina tonight as he did the night we bowling then we've got a pretty good shot at blowing last night right out of the water."

"Come here." He said, again, trying to pull my head towards his.

I pulled away smiling. "You are seriously turned on right now."

He groaned a frustrated groan and rolled his eyes. I could tell a profanity was on the tip of his tongue, but he held it back.

"Well, Justin, I'm not going to be a little play thing for the competitive man in you. Because that's all this is... your need to prove yourself. To prove something."

"So?" He asked.

"So?" I repeated. "I'm not a lab rat. I'm a woman. No, Justin, it wasn't great last night. Yes, we both know it. Okay? No, I'm not going to sleep with you right now just because you're in the mood to prove your coital skills. I would bet my left leg that if you weren't so hard up on proving me wrong that you would still be mad at me, right now. Hell, you wouldn't even be at this door. You'd be out shoe shopping with Trace, or something. Talking all sorts of shit about me, of course."

"That's... not true."

"It is... and we both know it."

He slid his hands down to my hips, gripped them, and pulled them up against his own. I gasped at the feeling of him pressed against me. He could never know that I was almost as turned on as he was, at the moment. If he did, then my battle was already lost.

"You do this to me." He gasped, swaying slowly against me. "Not my fucking pride."

"Try not to sway against me, too much. Might shoot your wad a little sooner then expected."

"Not now."

"You are a real case, Justin."

"Ditto."

"Ditto?"

"Would you please stop criticizing every word that comes out of my mouth?"

"Stop saying stupid stuff and I just might."

He sighed and stopped moving his hips against mine. “What did Burns say about your mother?”

“I don’t know. He’s out of the office until tomorrow morning.”

“It’s so bizarre.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” I stood with my hands at my sides, secretly enjoying the feeling of his hands on me and his excitement pressed up against me. He stood with his hands on my waist, looking about ready to kill something. Most likely me.

"Trev?"

"Yes, Don Wan?"

“Did you know my tour starts tomorrow?”

“Jennifer sure doesn’t waste any time.”

“It's just a small club tour.  I have a show at the House of Blues tomorrow night. It’s the first show of twelve.” He grinned. “I would really like to look out into the audience and see that angry face of yours.”

“It does have it’s soothing effects, doesn’t it?”

“There’s an after party at the Rum Jungle, too.”

“The Rum Jungle? Have we met? I don’t go to the Rum Jungle.”

His eyes brightened, "Let's have sex. Please?"

I stared at him, blinked, then died laughing.

When, he walked away I laughed even harder.

--

I'd never known Burns to smell like much of anything. Since the moment I'd met him I couldn't remember him ever wearing any kind of scented after shave or cologne. When I walked into his office every week, there was a distinct smell, but it was never generic. It was always just... Burns.

Nowadays was a definite exception. He still didn't smell like a certain cologne, soap or after shave. No, he smelled like stank.

"You look like shit this morning." I said, returning the baffled frown that he was throwing at me from his chair. The room was unusually cold that morning, he was wearing a wrinkled track suit and his hair was looking all sorts of crazy.

"Likewise." He mumbled. He pretended to be paying attention to the pad in front of him for a few seconds longer. When he threw it on his desk and stood from his seat, suddenly, I jumped. "Trevion... I, um... I’ve been out of town for a few weeks. I’ve learned, I’ve read… a lot." He tossed me a quick look before turning away. He clutched his hands behind his back and when he begun circling his desk, I raised an eyebrow. “Tell me everything that happened in California.”

“Not much to tell. Justin and I got in a car accident with her the other day and… and she didn’t remember me…” I couldn’t say another word.

Very slowly, Burns sunk down into his chair

Tears were already spilling out of my eyes, “It‘s me, isn‘t it? Just tell me it‘s me.”

“What you posses, Trevion-- what Louise passed on to you, it’s… a complicated beast.”

“A beast.” I laughed, but it was forced. I only did it to fight the pain in my heart.

“I don’t even know how to begin to explain it all to you, but you have to trust me when I tell you to never, ever do what your mother did. Don’t ever look for the cure. If you do look for it, and you find it, for the love of god, Trevion, resist. This is who you are. This is something that you are born with and it’s something that’s complex and it’s something that is meant to be with you for life. Trying to erase it would be like an average person, like myself, trying to erase the senses on the tips of their fingers, or the taste buds on their tongue.”

“Or the memories in their head?”

“Louise found the cure. She was foolish. She took it.”

I nodded.

“Immediately after she took it she forgot everything. Everything that was her life prior to her finding that cure was gone… forever.”

“What is it?” I begged. “It’s like, an amnesia pill, or something?” I had to smirk.

“It’s actually a liquid that you inject… but yes, that’s pretty much it. Once it’s done… it’s done.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Trevion…” For the first time in ten minutes, Burns smiled, “You can move things with your mind. As far as you’re concerned… nothing’s crazy. Besides, your mother wanted the cure for a number or reasons. I don’t know who produces it. I don’t understand it. I don’t pretend to understand it. I don’t even know where she went to get it. All I know is that I woke up one morning and she had no idea who I was. No idea who you were. And her powers had vanished. Vanished. She had no memory of every having had them.” He paused, “There’s something I’ve never told you, Trevion. Something that I hoped I never would have to tell you, but… in light of recent events…” He took a deep breath.

“What is it?”

He held my gaze in his powerful eyes, “There’s another reason I lost it the way I did when you asked about your mother. I was petrified that you would succeed in finding her. I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept… I’ve been a wreck worrying about you. Trevion…” He clasped his hands together even tighter, “Yes, your mother had the gift. She hated it, just like you do. She hated it and she cured it, but she didn’t do it for the reasons you think.”

My heart skipped a beat but I didn’t say a word. I was afraid that if I did he would stop talking.

“When you were six your mother bought you a pink bike for Christmas. I remember it to this day. It was so tiny and you had Simpsons stickers from school all over it… there were these two white training wheels at the back. You took that damn bike everywhere. Anywhere that you could get away with. Even if your father was going to the gas station you would demand that he throw that bike in the back of the truck or you weren’t going.” He chuckled, “You loved that bike…” A deep sigh, “The only rule was that you couldn’t ride it unless one of your folks was watching you. Which was understandable, considering that a six year old with a bike can find herself getting into all kinds of trouble. Like any other child, though, you were defiant. You felt about ten feet taller and ten years older than you actually were. You always used to demand that you were a big girl who could take care of herself. So, one day… you took your bike… and left…” He waved his hands wistfully in the air, kind of like a pleasant breeze. “Didn’t take long for you to find your way into the middle of the street-- and not the parking lot of the apartment complex, Trev, the street. Flamingo and Decatur, on of the busiest intersections in the city. Louise realized you were gone and went looking. She found you riding around on your bike in the middle of the road without a care in the word. Coming right at you from behind was a cement truck, honking and honking. The driver could see you but he knew there was no way to stop his vehicle fast enough to avoid you. Louise knew the rules, just like you did. She knew how dangerous it was to use her powers in public. But when your little girl is about to become road kill rules tend to become… somewhat secondary.”

“So she used her powers.” I whispered.

He nodded, “She lifted you clear off the street-- the bike, too. And you floated all the way to the sidewalk. She said, even as this was happening, you were still pedaling.” He laughed out loud. Just as quickly as the smile was on his face, it was gone. “You were meant to die that day, Trevion, but she saved you. That was the first time she’d ever used her powers in public. It was her first mistake. But it was a big one.”

“What? Was she supposed to leave me there to die like a dog in the street?”

He answered without hesitation. “Yes. But she didn’t. People with abilities like yours-- and there are many-- don’t have to live by many rules. The smart thing to do is to never reveal what you can do, but it’s not imperative. As long as you only tell people that you trust, then you’re fine and you have free rein to do with yourself what you will. It’s when you use your powers to save someone’s life… that’s where it gets complicated.”

My heart stopped.

It was as if he could feel it himself. “This story, Trev, is a story that I hoped I’d ever have to tell you. Now I wish that I’d told you every single day.”

I blinked, “Why?”

“Louise didn’t cure herself because she hated her powers. She cured herself to kill the curse that would eventually be put on her and yourself.”

I swallowed thickly, “A curse?”

“Yes?”

“For saving my life?”

Burns made his way over to the giant window in his office. It overlooked all of North Las Vegas, which was about half an hour outside of the city, and had an amazing view that always reminded me of how well off he was. With his back turned to me, he responded, “You said that Justin was already falling off the side of the building when you saved him?” He turned back to me, “He was already falling?”

I started at him.

He stared back, but didn’t say a word.

I could hardly manage to answer. “Are you telling me that I’m cursed?”

He didn’t seem to want to respond to that, but he did it anyway, “Yes. That’s why I’ve been out of town. I’ve been everywhere… anywhere trying to find a way to get you out of this. Trying to convince myself that maybe you’d be, spared. All I came away with was one certainly that I was already certain of.” Tears came to his eyes, “You can never… ever use your powers to reverse life’s process.”

“You never told me that.”

“No. But I did tell you to never, under any circumstances, use your powers in front of other people. You did it, anyway--”

“He was about to smash into the fucking ground--”

“Justin was meant to die that night, Trevion. He’d already jumped. He was dead--gone! You reversed it. You have no idea what you’ve done. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

“Why don’t you fill me in?”

“When you muddle with a life and that life’s plan…” He sighed, deeply.

His hands were shaking. “Burns.” I whispered. “I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal…”

His head shot up, “It is a big deal, Trevion.” He nodded, heavily, “It is a big… fucking… deal.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He opened his desk drawer, shuffled some stuff around, then slammed it shut, “Damn!”

“If I’m not allowed to save people’s lives then you should have…” I sputtered, “You should have told me.”

He was unresponsive. Probably because I was so blatantly wrong.

“What about the cure? If I take the cure then I wont even have these powers anymore-- just like my mom did. I could take the cure.”

“Are you listening to me, Trevion? Like I said earlier, what you have inside of you… your gift, it’s… it’s a complicated beast. The more you abuse it, the grimmer your fate. You cannot try to cure yourself, it is not safe. Look at Louise. Just look at what it did to your mother. She loved you, my God, did she love you, but if you walked up to her right now and wrapped your arms around her, she would have no clue who you were. A mother who doesn’t even know her own daughter when she’s staring her in the face… that is a serious thing. That is what you are dealing with.”

“But… what’s going to happen to me? To Justin?”

He watched me very closely, stalled, then answered, “I don’t know. I’m still… researching. Reading. Trying to find any…” He bowed his head, “Any information.”

I stalled.

“But you knew from the start that I had saved Justin using my powers. Why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner?”

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

“That’s not good enough!” My blood boiled.

“That‘s not the only reason, Trev. Just one of many. A part of me was hoping that you might be spared. Another part of me was hoping that maybe he wasn’t meant to die that night--maybe he was just meant to jump and get really hurt, but live. And then there was the last part of me. A teeny, tiny part in the back of my brain that’s only there when I have the occasional need to be irrational. And that part of my brain just plain didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to scare you. I wanted to wait and see if I could find a solution myself,” He sighed, deeply, “But it’s too late for that now.”

“What do you mean it’s too late?”

“As long as you and Justin are together, you’re both in danger. Until I can figure this whole thing out you have to stop seeing him.”

Every inch of color drained from my face.

He spoke before I could, “And don’t try to argue with me on this, Trevion, because there is no choice.”

“Oh my god.” I covered my face with my hands. They were shaking. I looked up at him, “You tell me this now? Now? You wait until Justin and I have spent two, almost three full months together? You wait until I COME TO YOU thinking that my mother’s empty eyes are the most of my problems? You wait until now? WHY?”

“Why aren’t you understanding me? As long as you have your gift--and you will always have it, it is apart of you, then you can’t have Justin. If you try to cure your gift, you will forget he ever existed. How would that be any better? Huh? I didn’t tell you then because I was sure I could find a way to fix it. I didn’t tell you no because I was sure you’d do something stupid. He cannot be in your life. He will not be in your life. If you love him as much as you say you do…”

“I love him.” I whispered, shaking my head, “I love him.”

“Trevion, if you stay with him. He will die.”

My heart stopped.

“Are you hearing me?” Burns tilted his head, “Because I need you to hear me when I say this to you. If you stay with him, he will die. It might not be today. It might not be tomorrow… but it will happen. Death has a funny way of making up for it’s slip ups. Especially when it comes to people like you.”

“I don’t understand.”

Burns stared at me. “I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. I found a series of texts in other countries… prophecies if you will. But it will take me quite a while to translate all of them. None of them are in English.”

“What about the person my mother went to? Wouldn’t they know something?”

“And how are we supposed to find that person? Louise couldn’t tell me your middle name and you expect her to know the name of the person who cured her?”

My lips tightened and my eyes narrowed.

I heard him apologize, “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot to take it all at once. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t okay.

“From what I’ve gathered in my reading I’ve come to a few conclusions about your situation. When you saved Justin the two of you became connected. It is a connection that is precise and strong. It cannot be broken. By saving his life, you basically gave him a free card. He got lucky. He can live the rest of his life scott free. He just can’t do it with you. It’s the person who’s responsible for saving a life that wasn’t meant to be saved. That is the person who is eventually punished. You are being punished, Trevion. And for as long as you are with the person you saved, they’ll be punished, too.” He stared at me, then added, “There is a life plan for everybody. It is not something that can be bargained with, fought with or reversed. It’s just life. You are playing in some serious, serious traffic here. You must end things with Justin…” He held the desk, “You must end it now. Now, Trevion. Right the hell now--”

“Do you have any idea…” I couldn’t even speak, “He will never… I…” Forming a coherent sentence has become a thing of my past, “No.” I whispered.

“Yes.” Burns, always the Debbie Downer, “Don’t you see, Trevion? Justin was never meant to know you in this life. You were never meant to know him. So I suppose that… the way they see it… if they can’t keep you apart in death, then they’ll make sure you’re never happy while you’re still alive.”

“Who are they? Who the hell are you talking about?”

“Who else?” He asked, then answered, very gently, “Death.”

I sputtered, “What? Like the really tall guy that occasionally makes a guest appearance in my Sim’s houses with the black cape and big pointy stick?” I made a stabbing motion.

He didn’t flinch. “Yes.”

“So I’m being punished-- by death--” I widened my eyes, “For not standing around and watching as a man fell to his death? I was supposed to just let him die when I knew that I could do something about it?”

“It wasn’t your decision to make.”

“It wasn’t a decision, at all.”

“There is always a decision Trevion.”

“Not--”

“Always. Especially when it comes to using your powers.”

“To let him die or to not let him die never crossed my mind when Justin jumped. It was never an option to let him die, never a question, not even for a second. I closed my eyes and when I opened them he was back on the roof.”

Burns had clearly lost his patience with me. “It’s a curse. It’s for life. It starts off small… like maybe he’ll get sick, or crash his car or break an ankle. Then it’ll intensify. Relatives of his might start to die--”

My eyes early bugged out of my head.

Burns did as well, “Who died?” He beamed.

I stared at him, mouth agape, barely aware that he’d asked me a question. So he asked it, again, louder, and I jolted, “Paul.” I answered, softly, “Paul, his step dad. He died about a month… Jesus, about a month after Justin and I…”

“Met.” Burns finished, “How did he die?”

I thought about it, “His cousin Chloe said that he went to the hospital because he’d been feeling sick and they found cancer in the entire left side of his body… or it might have been the right side.” I didn’t know, realized it didn’t really matter, then rose my eyes to Burns, “They said is was a complete--”

“Surprise.” He offered. “Cancer? Cancer that he had no idea about? In the entire left side of his body? How long after they found the cancer did he pass?”

“A few hours? I don’t know. It was less than a day.”

“Less than a day?”

I hesitated, “Yes.” The knowing look in his eyes was making me sick to my stomach. I looked at him and held his gaze, “You don’t honestly think it was… me?” At this point I was just looking for reassurance.

Burns was not the person to give it. “Everything in his life that brings him even the remotest inch of pleasure will be picked off… one by one. It can be anything, his father, his favorite car, his career. It is a curse, it is real and it absolutely will not stop-ever! And it will only get worse. If you test it… he will die. And Trevion,” His green eyes came alive, “Next time… death wont lose.”