A house full of people was the last thing I needed after a four day trip which sole purpose was to bust the wrench (Britney) who had stolen my heart before proceeding to mercilessly stomp it to death with big stiletto heels with some help of a former friend and employee of mine (Wade).
The hollow sound of my palms meeting in a harsh clap echoed off the walls of the room of debauchery housed within a Hilton hotel building.
“Bravo. Encore, encore.”
I heard the words that sounded so close to my ears that I had to assume that they had come from me. Though the voice I could hardly recognize. As Britney leapt to her feet, throwing on her previously discarded clothes, I just stood there.
My mind said, “Leave. Leave you, fool. You should have never come here in the first place.”
My heart said, “You had to come, you had to see for yourself if the rumors were true.”
Mind: But you already knew. You didn’t have to drag us all the way here and add insult to injury by witnessing it first hand.
Heart: I know, but I needed to. I needed this to make it real.
“Justin? Baby?” Britney called, cautiously as she placed a gentle touch to my arm.
Snatching my arm away in disgust, I retorted a weak, “Don’t touch me” when I wanted it to come out strong, harsh and defiant.
It was hard to be all those things, when I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like the wind had been knocked out of me, like some invisible force had just swung back as far as it could and clobbered me.
I was staggering. Reeling. Her mouth, her precious little mouth… The same damn mouth that at the beginning of our relationship she could barely force out dirty words in a whisper, I’d caught that now ho-fessional mouth working over that son of bitch’s length like that was her life’s purpose or some shit.
Damn, I knew once she had gotten some of this mighty Timberlovin’ the bitch (I don’t normally resort to calling female bitches, but if the shoe fits, the bitch should wear it) would get turned out, but I’ll be damned if I thought it would lead to some shit like this.
At the same time, I expected this. I knew this would happen. Call it denial, but in spite of knowing this my heart was still filled with faith that maybe, possibly, somehow, some way it wouldn’t have to turn out like this.
But it had. So why the hell was I still standing there?
“I’m sorry.” She whimpered.
Move you bastard feet, move! I can’t listen to this shit right now. I need to go.
Feet, what part of ‘I need to go’ don’t you understand?! This ain’t the time or the place to start no gawddamned mutiny on me!
“Yeah, you are. But not as sorry as I am.” I said, finally getting myself in motion. When did the door get so damn far away? Did it start to make a run of it when I wasn’t looking or something?
“Don’t do this.” She pleaded, making hesitant moves to come toward me.
Oh hell no, bitch. Don’t even try to turn this shit around on me. I’m not the bad guy in this.
Shit, my feet stopped moving. Don’t fall for it, Timberlake. Don’t look in her eyes; she’ll trap you here with her woman voodoo.
“Do what? What the fuck am I doing to you?!” I roared back, my stupid inordinate eyes seeking out hers.
But luckily for me, her head was down now. Downcast as she remained silent save a few pitiful sniffles. That’s what she wanted, huh? Some gawddamn sympathy?
“I-I just wanted some attention.” She whispered, barely able to get her reply squeaked out.
Oh yeah that’s it, girl. Make me look like the bad guy. Well, I’m soooorry if I’m a little pissed off that my muthafucking girlfriend slept with a friend of mine. My bad. What the hell was I thinking?
“Don’t even try to pull that tired Jerry Springer excuse of ‘you never paid attention to me so what else could I do but fuck around on you with your friend?!’” I said, my eyes once again disregarding the higher command to avoid eye contact. Locking eyes with her, I lost some of my gusto. The breathless feeling returned as I was swept up into a sea of sorrow. Biting my lip, I did everything I could to keep a firm grasp the last shred of dignity I had left in this situation in tact that was threatening to be shot to hell with one drop of salty moisture. “I loved you, Britney. I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving you and only you. I bought a fucking ring, rehearsed what I was going to say time and time again until I knew it backwards and forwards.” I paused as I stared down bitterly at the circle shaped jewelry that I thought would be a symbol of our eternity bond. What the hell was I smoking?
The divorce rate is at sixty percent right now and here I am thinking I got someone to beat the odds with meanwhile the bitch is laid up with another man. Flipping the ring in between my fingers sullenly now, I started again voice low with emotion, “I just wanted to make you at least half as happy as you made me.” I swallowed back the growing lump in my throat, before glancing upwards and swiping at his eyes with a bitterly hollow laugh. “My mama told me you might not be ready for this. Only I thought she just meant we were too young.” I smiled then, not sure what emotion was being leaked out through the smile as I glanced between the two of them. They looked good together. Two sluts, it was a match made in fucking around on your naively trusting boyfriend heaven. “My bad.” I muttered, shoving the ring into my front pocket and finally getting my feet to move me steadily in the right direction
“Justin.”
I heard it, but I couldn’t be bothered to answer that muthafucka. If he knew what was good for him he would exercise his right to remain silent, before I exercise mine to stick my foot up his scrawny pop locking ass.
“Justin wait!” He cried, this time reaching for me and trying to physically hold me back.
I know this piece of shit didn’t just put his hands on me! “Get your hands off me.” I said, my voice coming out with a strangely cool and calm for the situation, misleadingly portraying me as half as angry as I truly was.
“Just hear me out.” He begged.
“Get your muthafucking hands off me.” I repeated in a low warning growl, feeling Wade’s hand as it dropped its hold on me and fell back into place at his side again.
With a hand on the doorknob, I turned back to face them once more. “Oh and next time y’all wanna fuck around…use the ‘do not disturb’ sign. That’s what it’s made for.” I said, tossing it at the two of them for effect, figuring that such a dramatic scene deserved an equally dramatic exit. But for some reason, my eyes were drawn in, focused as I watched its fall. Watched as it landed…right next to a used condom they’d so discreetly left on the floor.
Well they may be lying whores, but at least they’re not stupid lying whores and are practicing safe sex.
After that wonderful moment in my life, I somehow wound up at the beach. The same beach that Britney and I had spent many days on when we were younger, when things were simpler and life was slower, back in the MMC days. Back when we used to like lie around and talk about our dreams.
Now we’d achieved most of those dreams and we didn’t have anything much to say to each other anymore. It was like we’d used up all our words in previous years and conversations. I didn’t even realize until a few hours later of sitting there on that beach watching the waves lap onto the shores - simultaneously wondering if this was one of those rip tide areas and if the night would end on a bright note that would be the spawn of morning newspaper headlines that read ‘Dumbass Pop Star, Justin Gets Swept Away.’ But I suppose of all the other ways a man could be taken out having the ocean reach out and pull me down into my watery grave…couldn’t be that bad.
It was during this uplifting thoughts that my cell phone began to ring that stupid “Lucky” ring tone I’d set it to a few weeks back as a joke. I waited until the person had hung up before I picked the phone up again, seeing that I’d been left a voicemail reluctantly forced myself to tap in the password to check the new message.
“Hi, Justin. This is Fionna. I, um, I just wanted to know if...” There was shuffling then as her voice trailed off before it got strong again. “Holy mother of shit! Sadie no, no, nooooo! Those were my favorite shoes did you have to turn them into your damn personal toilet!!”
The message was six minutes long ending in “Oh shit! I didn’t turn the phone off!” Followed by a series of shuffles before a wearily frustrated, “Sadie nooo. Lord, not again!” And I listened to it all with a smile. That girl was crazy and Sadie wasn’t helping.
Before listening to that message I been considering spending my last day (yes, it was a four day trip but it had taken me three days to build up my courage enough to confront her) in Miami drunk and sexed up with the closest decent-looking female I could find, but then I decided it wasn’t worth it. Britney wasn’t worth it.
And besides I had a girl waiting at home for me who loved me, unconditionally. So what if she was more than a little on the hairy side and had an affinity toward relieving herself in people’s shoes. At least I knew I’d never find her holed up in a hotel room having an affair with one of my friends. At least I hoped to God that would never happen, otherwise that would send me on a one way trip to the crazy house or at least a Jerry Springer ‘My Best Friend is Having an Affair…With My Dog’ episode.
If you want to get all technical about it, she wasn’t in my dog. Technically. I mean, I’d gotten her as a present for Britney about a year ago and I dunno, somehow it wound up being that Sadie never made it out the door when Britney left that day and from then on she’d stayed at my house, allowing me time to love in with her. So to me that makes her mine.
So anyways, my spirits were sort of lifted upon hearing that message on my voicemail, but I was nowhere near ready to be skipping there a meadow of daisies yet. And it wasn’t until I’d stepped foot of that plane into the LAX airport that a sudden realization him me like a Mack truck moving at top speed into a toy poodle.
I’d set up an engagement announcement party several weeks ago that was scheduled for that exact day. I was hoping and praying that everyone had somehow all magically lost their memories at the same time. Or at least that they had just forgotten about the party. Talk about counting your chicks before they’re hatched. Shit, with the way me and Brit were towards the end, I’m not even sure we had any eggs to really have to worry over whether or not they were going to hatch. But I’d wanted it to be so badly that I’d started to things in the direction of white gowns, black tuxes and ‘I do’s when I’m sure if I hadn’t been so blinded by love I could have been able to see the hints that Britney was dropping on me that the only thing close to that that she’d be saying to me was ‘I don’t.’
As luck would have it, everybody remembered and the entire ride back all I got was ‘Congratulations man, you and Britney are gonna be very happy together’ and ‘Where’s the bride-to-be?” with a few sprinklings of Trace’s grumbled ‘I can’t believe you’re gonna get lock down’ as he sadly shook his head at me.
And maybe I would have laughed and joked around with them all more on that ride if it wasn’t for the fact that I was anxiously racking my brain for something, anything that could stall me going back to the house. Once I resigned myself to fact that they weren’t having it, I sent the remainder of the ride trying to put my game face on so that I could at least appear to be in a better frame of mind than the jumbled one I was currently in.
Pushing my true feelings down as far as I could, I replaced them with a happy-go-lucky demeanor that I figured would have been suitable for a man who’s supposed to be on top of the world, having secured his piece of happiness with the woman of his dreams. Once I’d arrived at what should have been my sanctuary, the place where I could let down my guard (instead of becoming the stage in which I was about to give an Oscar worthy performance), I built it up higher and stronger than ever, re-enforcing it with steel smiles and hearty hugs which I then proceeded to pass out like candy on Halloween to trick-o-treaters.
And everybody ate it up like it was candy too. Not of them questioned me, they all just assumed this was for real. A small part of me wanted someone in that house to look at me and see through the well crafted mask, to out me for being a joyous man imposter, but no one did. Not even my own momma. Though, I must say she didn’t really have time for me, what with all her cooking and womanly carrying ons to tend to (gossip).
That’s when I saw her. Fionna was standing toward the edge of the middle of the crowd looking about as uncomfortable and weary of the situation as I was feeling. I can honestly say that I was glad to see she was still there. Glad to know that out of all the people there, she was one if not only person I could count on to not smile in my face and force me to pretend to more happy than I could muster on even a good day. But somehow, I’m not really even sure how she did it but her reaction to my approach to her and my ‘happy’ state, provoked genuine joy out of me. I learned right then and there that irritating her, despite how childish it was, was just plain ol’ fun.
The very next day I found myself on set for my new up and coming movie Black Snake Moan (sounds like a porno flick don’t it? That’s what I thought at first too until Johnny sold me on the idea), where I play a soldier who’s dating a nymphomaniac played by the lovely Christina Ricci and even though given the situation I'd just gone through not so long ago I felt energized in a way to be there. Once I had the wardrobe on, was standing on set beneath the big bright hot as hell lights I knew that I no longer had to worry about my problems. They weren't even my problems anymore. They were Justin Timberlake's now. And I was Matt who had to worry about a girlfriend who suffers from panic attacks brought on by flashbacks of a childhood rape in which she then forces herself to relieve the pain of that awful moment by sleeping with random guys instead. For those moments I got to be someone else, briefly giving me a reprieve from the day to day grind that is my life.
Though I was still grinding, so to speak, at those times, it felt different you know. Like being in the same room but sitting in a different seat. You see things differently; things that used to matter in your old seat don't really apply to the new one. You got new things to look at, old things to look at in a new way. And although I'd come to use my music more often than not as my refuge from life. It was still me, maybe a little tainted or slanted depending on the angle of the emotion I was trying to pull out for the song. But it was still me; I was giving myself away...if only in little bite-sized pieces. With acting, the less I was like me the better I was doing, the more I was praised for it. Sometimes just walking off the set, changing back into my regular street clothes wasn’t enough to shake the hold of the character on me; I could still feel the character on me. In me. I was beginning to see how some actors lost themselves during certain roles and even though I appreciate the refreshing Kit-Kat break acting was giving me, I sure as hell wasn’t intending to have this carry over into a permanent displacement of self, woman issues or not.
Jay-Z's "99 Problems" was bumping in my stereo when suddenly a loud knock resounded on the other side of my door. “Justin, can I come in?”
“Yeah, sure, Gerri.” I called, swinging around in my seat to face the opening door of my trailer.
“Why do you insist on calling me Gerri?” Carrie frowned at me, her hands planted on her hips.
“Maybe because 1) you have a strange love for the Spice Girls and 2) you look like Gerri Halliwell.” I retorted with a smile. “Would you rather I call you Ginger?”
“I’d rather that you call me by my name.” She persisted, not bothering to deny the truth of her Spice Girls obsession.
“Okay, Gerri.” I smiled.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” I frowned, realizing too late that she had a brush poised in the air.
“For this.” She said, smacking me upside the head with the brush before laughing at my pain.
“You do realize I’m the one signing the checks around here, right?” I questioned, rubbing my head.
“Are you threatening me, boy?” She asked glaring at me through the mirror, her weapon of choice again floating dangerously near my head.
The door opened suddenly without so much as a knock. Before I could open my mouth, Carrie was all over it.
“Janice, I know you’re new and don’t know all of the lovely little nuisances that make up this fine specimen of annoyance loosely called a man.” She said pointing at me. “But the thing is, Justin hates…I mean really, really, really, really, really, really…”
“I think she got it.” I interjected.
Popping me upside the head with the brush my mouth must have forgotten was still in her hand, she continued, “Really, really, really hates when people just waltz into his space. He needs everyone to knock and announce their intentions otherwise he goes ballistic. His eyes turn red and get all big like they’re about to pop out of his head. Then his voice gets hilariously high as he squeaks worse than Mickey Mouse on helium to yell at you. And if you catch him on a really bad day, he’ll even do this thing where he balls up his fists like a little child about to throw a fit and start shaking both his fists and head at you at the same all the while ranting about shit that probably only his therapist would be able to even begin to understand. It’s quite funny sometimes, but I suggest you try your best to withhold any laughter until you’re out of hearing range. But as you can see,” She said grabbing one of my ears roughly. “His ears are abnormally large so walk out of whatever you think is normal hearing range then go another block and maybe…maybe these babies,” She started to twist my ear a little then. But I was too busy trying to counteract the picture of insanity she was painting of me with being as calm and tranquil as possible to let that bother me. Much. “Won’t be able to hear you.”
“Are you finished, Gerri?” I frowned at her through the mirror. My hand disobeying me and rubbing my sore ears.
“Yes,” she said giving my head another pop with a smile.
“Despite what she’s trying to lead you to believe, I’m really not crazy.” I said, trying to smile my best ‘See I’m a perfectly ‘normal’ human being’ smile. Seeing her hesitantly smile and nod back made me think that somehow my smile hadn’t done the trick.
“Oh yes he is.” Carrie cackled. In all the years I’d known her I’ve never once heard her simply laugh. Maybe it was the twenty thousand packs of cigarettes she went through in a day. Nah, that couldn’t be it. She’s just a witch. “But you’ll grow to love him anyways just like the rest of us have.” She added. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t a witch after all.
But still she wasn’t helping matters. It had already become painfully (for my ego) obvious to me that whenever Janice was around she had the ability to turn me into a bumbling idiot. She had this uncanny talent for making me nervous by doing the simplest of things “ like saying good morning to me, clapping her hand to my shoulder when she asked me how I was doing, or just merely by walking into the room.
I didn’t need this shit. Right now especially. I was just coming off a break up with a girl I had thought for awhile now that I was going to make my wife, I did not need to turn around and start falling into something like that with another girl. But that was my routine. Find a girl, fall for a girl, get left by a girl. True this time I technically did the leaving, but it wasn’t like I had any other option. If I had of never caught her with Wade, I know I would have proposed to that girl. And if she had of said yes, I would have gladly married her, contently living in my world of denial about where she was and who she was with when she wasn’t with me.
Unfortunately for me that’s just the kind of guy I am though. I wear my heart on my sleeve nine times outta ten, and all the girls I’ve ever been involved with seem to like the sleeveless look on me better. Considering how each and every one of them has practically reached into my chest and beat my heart up into a bloody pulp.
Okay that was a little messy and involved way to put that. But so is love. Or at least my love life.
Anyways, the point is I, Justin Randall Timberlake, from this point on do so solemnly swear to never ever find myself in the same predicament that I’m in now. The next girl I decide is serious enough to date on a monogamous level, better bring her A game in love or else…
Or else, I don’t know, I guess I just might give up on this love shit like all my boys have been trying to get me to do since Crystal in the sixth grade. I have a long sordid history of being a chump for a pretty face and a smile.
But not this time. I’m not going to fall for Janice’s wily charms. So go ‘head girl, send that long blonde hair of yours cascading over your shoulder, flutter those long thick lashes over your sea foam blue eyes, smile bright enough for Ray Charles to see (R.I.P. Ray), but it’s not going to work. Sure you might be able to provoke more than a few jumbled stuttering responses out of me, but I’m not falling for it. I know your kind, I know your game. So you might as well give up now.
I suppose somewhere during my incessant thoughts, she’d started speaking to me again, because now she was staring at me with that expectant look of someone who’s waiting for an answer. An answer…an answer to what?
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
She smiled slightly and replied, “Oh, I was just asking you if you wanted to join me for lunch.”
“Lunch, as in you and me, eating together?”
“Yes, that is what having lunch with another person usually entails.” She laughed like she’d been tickled.
Okay, be smooth Timberlake. Rally those scattered brain cells of yours together and whatever you do don’t say…
“Alone? Just you and me? The two of us? Eating?”
…anything stupid.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” She said in teasing exasperation.
I hesitated then, putting a pause on the ‘yes, hell yes, I’ll eat you…I mean eat on you…I mean…’ Shit, she was even tripping up my thoughts now. Oh, she’s good, I’ll give her that.
Luckily before I could further amble down the road of hopelessly stupid chatter, I glanced up to spy Fionna a few yards away, standing on the sidelines, playing a game of tug-a-war with Sadie.
“Actually, I can’t. I already made plans with Fi.”
“You did?” She asked, a frown rippled across her brow in confusion.
What did she know? Did Fi already have plans to do lunch with someone else? “Y-yeah.” I managed to stammer out with an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
Recovering her usual smile, she shook off my word of apology. “No, no, it’s fine.” She murmured, her eyes glancing briefly over to where Fionna stood before looking back at me. With a nod, she said, “Alright, I guess I’ll see you later then.”
I just nodded, not trusting myself to be able to form even the most elementary of goodbyes, before heading over to Fionna, mentally kicking myself the entire way.
“Hey, do you wanna have lunch with me?” I asked as soon as I was standing near her.
Straightening up, she dusted herself of invisible grit, before cocking her head to the side slightly and replying, “Janice is going to Roscoe’s.”
“Yeah.” I nodded as if I already knew this little piece of information. “And?”
“And…” She frowned, looking a little on the annoyed side at the fact that I was still standing there questioning her. But then what’s new? When did Fionna ever look happy to see me? Or anyone for that matter. “Aren’t you going with her?”
“No.”
Not satisfied with my answer, Fionna’s eyes began to bounce around the room as if in search of something or someone. Following her gaze, I noticed that her eyes had briefly settled on Janice who appeared to have been looking over at us before taking a sudden interest in the nearby props.
A small resigned to her fate sigh escaped her lips while her eyes rolled. “I would ask ‘why not’ but I’m too hungry to get wrapped up in y’alls strange soap opera drama. Let’s go.” She said, bending down and strapping a leash onto Sadie, before strolling away without so much as glance backwards to see if I was following.
After a semi-heated eight-minute debate over why it didn’t make sense for us to go in two separate cars, I finally got Fionna to relent to riding in the same car as me, we’d finally arrived at the restaurant, leaving a sad looking Sadie in the car with the windows cracked. Walking into PF Chang's Bistro that afternoon felt like a Cheers moment. For Fi, at least.
Damn near everybody we passed she knew or knew her. I almost thought to check my person for identification, cause I could have sworn I was Justin Timberlake, the bonafide celebrity between the two of us - all I heard was a sound wall of back to back 'Hey, Fionna!' and 'How you been? Ain't seen you around in a minute.' And some dude, who upon sight of her, licked his lips real slow trying to act like he's LL with that shit, posted up against a far wall, eyes locked on her like she was only female left in the world.
I heard her sigh at recognition of the man, turning her back to him, she started up a conversation with another girl, who was supposed to be the hostess but was too busy smacking on her gum, filing her nails and patting her weave to do something stupid like...her job.
"Table for two." I said, trying to bite back some of my frustration after five minutes of standing there with no service.
With a roll of her eyes, she forced a smile to curve the corners of her pretty Kool-Aid red lips upwards. "Would you like smoking or non-smoking, sir?" She said, her voice sounding sweet as cotton candy, which of course throw me for a second. I'd been expecting some attitude instead. "Sir?" She asked, with a laugh on the tip of her tongue.
Fionna glanced at me, who for some reason had fallen into a silent spell, before speaking up. "Oh, Char, don't even worry about him. He's got issues, girl." She laughed, making her eyes go crossed as twirled her finger in the air before pointing that finger at me with a smile to her friend. In effect calling me crazy.
"Whateva. Non-smoking."
"Okay, lemme see what we got, sir." She said, tossing another lop-sided grin my way before playfully nudging Fionna as she walked away. Hearing the groan that her gesture had provoked from Fionna, I had to wonder what their conversation had been before I'd butted into it.
"Right this way, sir." Charlene said, motioning for me to follow as she sashayed ahead, Fionna groaning in annoyance after us.
"It's Justin."
"What, sir?"
"My name. It's Justin."
"Oh, I know." She grinned softly at me, placing the menus down on the table. "Sir."
"Char, just go'n somewhere." Fionna interjected with a laugh.
Ignoring her, Charlene continued to smile down on me. "Anyways..." She said, tossing a hand into her friend's face playfully. "You have a nice day."
"You too." I said, letting a slow grin ease its way across my lips, licking them slowly for effect as my eyes trailed her exit.
"Don't hurt yourself." Fionna sneered, her eyes focused on the menu in her hands.
"What?"
"Tryna lean over to follow her ass. Don't hurt yourself." She clarified with a sigh, looking up from her menu momentarily. "I don't want to have your neck injuries hanging over my head."
"Aww, Fi, I didn't know you cared." I chuckled, lightly poking her in her side, watching as this caused her to scoot her chair further away from mine.
"First of all, don't touch me. Second of all, my name is Fi-on-na." She stressed.
"And third of all?" I asked, eyebrow rose in mock interest.
"I don't care."
Letting her comment go, I said, "Ha ha, you got jokes, huh?"
"I wasn't joking." She said flatly, her eyes focused on the menu again.
"Anyways, how do you know all these people? And who was that dude eyeing you down before?"
Handing me a menu, she didn't say anything. "Oh so you ain't gonna answer."
"Looks that way doesn't it." She muttered.
"Aight." I nodded with a sigh, dropping my eyes to my menu.
I don't know how long it had been that we'd been sitting in silence, but suddenly she staring at me, clicking her tongue as she said, "Don't worry about those calories. If you do, chances are you might not order anything."
I nodded, releasing one last 'good lord' before forcing my eyes away from the calorie list where 900's dominated the scene. "I know that's right."
There wasn't too much conversation after that. Our waitress was a bubbly brunette, who was smacking and popping her gum in a similar fashion as Charlene had been doing, left me wondering if that was part of the uniform for them. Anyways, she bounced back and forth from our table, dropping off drinks, food and the etc, etc. I had wound up ordering some 900 calorie shrimp dish which seemed to take forever and a day before it reached the table, leaving me nothing to do but to watch Fionna nibble away on her vegetarian lettuce wraps.
"Are you on a diet or something?" I asked.
She looked embarrassed for a split second, but her usual annoyed persona shined through. "No, and if that's your way of telling me was I rude for starting to eat before you had gotten your food... I'm sorry." She said the last two words begrudgingly.
"Nah, it's cool. I was just wondering why you were eating that rabbit food."
She blinked for several seconds without responding. "I'm a rabbit." She said, nibbling on her wrap again.
"Cute." I said, with a roll of my eyes.
"You obviously don't like cute." She muttered in her breath.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing."
"No really, what did you say?"
Meeting my gaze now, she sighed. "I didn't want to get into this. But Janice seems to think that you don't like her. You were supposed to go to lunch with her today as proof that you two were cool." She said, picking up her lettuce wrap. "So thanks to you, I lost the bet and now I owe her ten bucks."
I chuckled briefly at that, before the realization that they'd been discussing my actions outside of work-related issues. "What else did she say about me?"
She shrugged then, her hands moving onto her next wrap.
I nodded, trying to appear nonchalant about it. Like I didn't give a damn whether she told me anything more or not. When my finally food arrived I was quick to use it as a distraction to the silence that Fionna seemed comfortably at home in, for awhile until another thought stuck me.
“Do you think my ears are big?”
“Huh?” She said, glancing up from her food for the first time since the last time we’d spoken, which had me wondering did she normally eat like that or was just using that as small talk block mechanism.
“My ears.” I repeated, pushing them forward with a smile. “Do they seem on the big side to you?”
She sighed then, setting her food down. She peered at my ears so long that it made me wonder if she was trying to visually measure them. “Yeah.” She replied, her food back up and in steady route to her mouth.
“Really?” I said, feeling a frown come over me at her response, my hands still subconsciously touching my ears.
She just shrugged in that noncommittal way of hers.
My frown deepened into a full-fledged grimace as I tried to slyly glance at my ears via a spoon. What does a giraffe-girl know about ear sizes anyways?! I thought, still slightly touching my ears.
We fell into another long silent spell then, which I who was not one known for my enjoyment of silences small or big began to fill with soft humming to myself. At least I figured it was soft until she spoke up again, aggravation hedging threateningly into her tone.
“Do you have to do that?” She grumbled at me.
“Do what?” I asked, smiling innocently.
“Hum.”
“What, you don’t like my humming? Or you don’t like the song?” I asked, my smile growing at the prospect of her irritation.
“Both.”
“Oh okay.” I nodded, appeasingly enough. Less than a minute later I was right back to humming.
“You’re doing it again.” She sighed, glaring at me.
“Doing what?”
“Humming that song.”
“It’s called ‘sugar pie, honey bunch.’ And yeah, I know I am.” I grinned.
She continued to stare me down with a hardened glare for a moment, before allowing a small smile to break the monotony of her frowning mouth. “So this is why you wanted to have lunch with me, Honey Bunch?”
“Honey Bunch?”
She didn’t bother to answer as she began to nibble on the remainder of her final lettuce wrap again.
“And no, it wasn’t.” I said, before brushing some extra lettuce wrap scrap off the corner of her mouth. Smiling as a frown immediately registered on her face from the simple contact, I added with a chuckle, “Bugging you is just a bonus, Sugar Pie.”
And so began my quadis-fall into friendship with Fionna. Even now looking back on it, I don’t know for sure why I pursued a friendship with her; she definitely didn’t make it easy on me. But after awhile I got used to her caustic remarks and besides when I was around her she distracted my mind from tripping into a hole of depression of recent Britney episode. And if that wasn’t enough, I’d soon come to find that she was roommates with the lovely creature named Janice, who had the ability to turn me into a bumbling fool whenever she was around. Despite Fionna claiming on several occasions that she didn’t speak ‘stupid’ she would often serve as a translator for me when my tongue started to form words that even I could barely decipher as English.
But that’s what friends are for, right?
