"Sweet comic valentine
You make me smile with my heart."
Life was good.
Life was good, because last month I had everything—or at least something. It was wedding season (I'm a wedding planner) and every woman was in a tissy, rushing to throw on a white dress so she could run down the aisle, sometimes having to drag her future husband along with her. So my money was definitely flowing right. It was the mildest winter ever, almost just like an extended fall. It was just sweater weather.
Now it's divorce season, weddings I'd planned last year were now under re-evaluation with former blushing brides and proud grooms glaring at each other in silent war as their lawyers hashed out the messy details. Now the money wasn't coming in the way I'd want it to, or the way my landlord would want it to. I had a good amount of rainy day savings, but now it was pouring and unfortunately the old man wasn't snoring and was steadily knocking on my door wanting—scratch that—demanding that he have his money now rather than later.
Now all the snow that we'd been spared for the last few months was coming back with a vengeance. And it'd taken me the better part of an hour to just find my car in all the mess of snow that had covered it before I then spent the next few hours digging it out and of course I did this alone, while man after man just shuffled on by, pretending like they couldn't see me struggling. And sure, maybe I would've declined their help, but the point was they didn't even offer. I still liked the illusion of chivalry even if I knew I'd just reject it in the end.
Once I'd finally succeeded in getting my car out I was too tired to actually drive it anywhere, so I had to go take a nap. Cut to an hour later, when I was out there again, this time with the pleasure of getting to scrap off all the ice that had accumulated there while I was gone.
With my little bit of money and my little bit of gas, I began my trip across the country. I know, not the smartest idea, not the brightest, but I also never claimed to be. If I had the money for a plane ticket, you better believe my ass would've been on one.
No matter, I was there now. LA, that is. Which might as well have been the other side of the world. I'd barely made it and after that last gas stop, I'm surprised I didn't wind up in jail after I had to hurt someone at the sight of those gas prices.
C'est la vie. I'd arrived. And I could proceed to kick ass here if need be.
As I stared at the door debating on whether or not to ring the bell or knock, I knew I was losing my resolve. You don't drive three thousand miles over the span of forty-one hours and fourteen minutes and just turn around and run back with your tail between your legs. I'd come too far with too little to just give up now. I was here now so...
The door opened then and a short woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun was smiling at me. "Help you?"
Oh, lord. He'd gone bougie and gotten a maid. She was even wearing an apron, looking like the maid on The Brady Bunch—what was her name? Alicia, Alex, Allie—
"Help you?"
"Alice!"
Now the poor woman was really confused. She just frowned at me for a moment; her eyebrows scrunched together, her head cocked to the side. I could almost hear her brain churning as it searched for the correct English phrase for this situation. So I said, "I'm an old friend of Justin's."
Her frown only grew at this. I'm not surprised, I'm sure she's gotten dumber responses from women trying to weasel their way in. But this was the truth unfortunately. If it wasn't, please believe my broke ass would've stayed in New York.
I tried to think of another way to put it, another way to explain my showing up out of nowhere, without actually having to explain anything. I was drawing a huge blank. Fortunately, she must've been in a good (or stupid—whatever works) mood, because instead of closing the door in my face, she led me inside, telling me Justin was in his studio.
"Figures."
She frowned again at this.
I waved her confusion away and said, "Nevermind, thanks!"
The house was basically the exact same way I'd remembered it. Huge. Intimidatingly large, yet cozy. I rushed through the rooms then down the stairs to the studio, once I was at the bottom of the stairs I hesitated.
He was in the booth. Probably recording a demo that he'd later play for Timbaland, since they seemed to be bosom buddies nowadays. For awhile, he didn't even notice me and I was almost okay with that. I'd always liked watching him work. But this time it was just making me more anxious, I just wanted to say what I had to say and be out. The longer I waited, the more it would sink in how stupidly rash this whole trip was. I could have just as easily cussed him out over the phone. True, not as satisfying as doing it face-to-face. But face-to-face meant looking at him, seeing him, being close to him and I hadn't done any of those things in five years.
This man in front of me may have looked and even crooned like the Justin I used to know, but he could be a completely different person by now. Hell, maybe I was a completely different person now.
When he finally opened his eyes, he just stared at me for a long moment. For a second it was like he was actually frozen and I had to wonder if he'd stopped breathing, then he was rushing forward, snatching the headphones off and bursting through the doors towards me, which then caused me to freeze.
Then he froze. And we were frozen. And I was pissed, because this was not how I'd planned it all out in my head. In my head, I was supposed to come storming into the room, shove the invitation I'd gotten out of the mail a few days ago into his face and then proceed to rip him a new one before storming off in a blaze of self-righteous glory.
Instead I was just scared shitless of a man that I'd used to be so comfortable with that I'd let him see me first thing in the morning, stank breath, no make-up, crazy bed-head—with or without a scarf on. But now he wasn't best friend, buddy, pal, Justin. He was Justin Timberlake, Justin and I'd never so self-conscious around him before--or anyone, really.
When he decided to take charge—which of course pissed me off more—and break into the silence, he said, "Hey."
Hey. Hey, like we haven't just gone five consecutive years without speaking. Hey, like my showing up out of nowhere was in no way a big deal to him. Hey, like if it had of been five more years on top of the five already gone by, he'd have still just said hey, because he's an asshole like that.
Only he wasn't an asshole. And that pissed me off too. I was the asshole. And I should've never come here.
But I was here now and there was no going back. I was here so...
I raised the slightly (very) crumpled invite—which had only gotten that way after I'd balled it up and threw it at a wall. He just stared at it like he didn't know what it was, so I helped him out. "You thought this was funny, didn't you?" I was shaking the invite in his face now, but he was just calmly staring at me. I hated when he did that. The angrier I'd get, the calmer he got. "Well, let me tell you it was fucking hilarious."
"What?" he said, still going with his play dumb plan. "What are you doing here?"
What am I doing here? What am I doing here?
Like he doesn't know!
"Like you don't know."
I was still shaking the invite in his face and he was still just as calm as ever, if not calmer, though his brow had become wrinkled, his eyebrows knitted in what looked like confusion. I almost faltered, almost second guessed myself, but it was an invitation to his wedding, so who else would send it but him?
Shaking the invite a few more times in his face for good measure, I said, "Sending me a friggin’ invitation for your friggin’ wedding that's going to be on Valentine's Day, my birthday, when you probably knew I was alone and lonely that's pretty low."
This only made his frown grow. "What happened to the accountant, what-his-face?"
"That was five years ago, Justin!"
"And that's the last time I saw you."
Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms against my chest. "So you're saying you didn't send me this?"
"No."
I narrowed my eyes at him and he didn't do any of his telltale signs of lying, he just stared blankly at me. Then I narrowed my eyes at the invite, just staring at it as if it had betrayed me. And maybe it had. I said, "Then who did?"
That who said, "I did."
I turned towards the voice, finding a petite redhead standing behind me with a stern look on her face.
"Why?" I said and Justin wound up saying it right along with me.
"Cause I find it funny when people from Justin's past randomly come back and ruin his happiness."
I just stared at her for a moment in silence, a frown growing on my face as she just stared right back without any further elaboration, looking just as stern as ever. Finally, I gave up on trying to figure her out directly and looked again at Justin, hitching a thumb back at the woman, I said, "Who is this? Where did she come from and can you send her back?"
"Valerie. She's from Chicago. And no, she's my fiancée."
I turned back to look at her again. This Valerie lady was nothing like the type of women he used to go for (i.e. the tall, wafer blonde celebrity chicks). Valerie was normal, not to say she wasn't pretty, because she was--despite the slightly librarian feel she gave off—but she definitely was lacking the wow factor of his previous girlfriends. Of course, none of those women had gotten him this far in a relationship either. When the three-year mark hit, they had all gotten the boot.
I was tempted to ask how long they'd been dating, and how they'd managed to keep this out of the tabloids. Because for as much I'd tried to ignore all things Justin, it was damn hard when the paparazzi and pretty much everyone who didn't live under a rock loved to pay attention to him—even if all he was doing was eating a sandwich or pumping some gas. And yet in still, this woman, this short, fiery-headed, seemingly pitbull in a skirt had gone undetected this whole time—for however long that was. And even as I was just openly staring at her, sizing her up, she never flinched. Not once. Bully for her.
I said to her, "I'm assuming that was some sort of joke."
"Are you unfamiliar with sarcasm?"
I laughed dryly, gritted my teeth, licked my lips, and when I pointed my finger at her, Justin must have known what was going to happen next cause he immediately jumped in between the two of us.
"Val's humor is rather...dry."
"So this," I said, raising the invite again and again shaking it so I wouldn't start shaking her. "Was a joke? Her joke on me. For my birthday." I didn't wait for an answer; I'd already heard more than enough and just turned to walk away before I wound up hurting one or the both of them.
"I'm sure the actual invite wasn't a joke." Justin said, his steps following mine, before he grabbed my wrist, making me stop. Turning to his fiancée, he said, "Right, Val?"
"Right. It was real. I invited you."
"See."
All I was seeing was that Justin's taste in women had swayed away from famous bubbly blondes to crazy redhead bitches. I said, "Why? You don't even know me. And I'm sure what Justin's said about me over the years hasn't exactly made you want to get to know me."
"Actually it did." She said, taking a step forward now. "I thought to myself if this is a person he hasn't seen in all these years, hasn't talked to, and supposedly doesn't much like anymore, why does he bring her up so often? Even if it was just under the pretense of complaint. Why is he still holding on? She must be something pretty special."
I smirked, holding my arms out and swirling slowly. "As you can see that assumption was wrong."
Now don't get me wrong, I know I'm not some plain Jane type, I know I can turn some heads when I want to, but I was like Valerie in a way—of course crazy bitch tendencies aside—I was just a normal woman. I didn't lead an extraordinary life, more like just an extra ordinary one. I didn't have people camped outside my home, salivating at a chance to snap a picture of me walking down the street. I was the around the way girl, pretty normal.
Valerie didn't seem to think so though. She said, "I'm not quite sure yet. His reaction to you today wasn't at all the way a person acts when they're confronted with someone they've been avoiding for several years."
"Well," I looked at Justin and said, "Tell her how much you hate me so I can leave."
He'd opened his mouth, but his fiancée was the one who actually got to speak and I got a feeling that this happened a lot in their relationship. She said, "He doesn't hate you. He's angry, about what exactly I'm not sure. Cause he never would tell me." She stared back and forth between Justin and I as if whatever secret she thought there was to tell was going to come spilling out in that moment.
"Well, that sounds like some issues y'all can work out on your own." I said, yet again making moves to extract myself out of this situation.
"Wait, aren't you forgetting something?"
"No."
"You haven't RSVP'ed yet."
"You can't seriously think I'm coming."
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Are you serious?" Looking at Justin I said, "Is she serious?"
Then he looked at his fiancée and said, "Baby, you can't really expect her to come."
"She's still your friend isn't she?"
A 'no' and a 'yes' were said at the same time. The no was from me, the yes from Justin. We stared at each other in silence for a moment, before Valerie once again spoke up.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" She said, looking pointedly at me.
"Probably not whatever you're about to ask me to do."
"You're a wedding planner right?"
I opened my mouth and closed it, did this two more times before I reluctantly said, "Right, but you've already got it planned, so it's not like..."
"You could help me go over a few last minute things."
"I could but I'm just so..."
"Nine. You can meet me here at nine."
"In the morning?"
"No, in the afternoon."
"It's going to take a while to get used to," not strangling you, I thought, but what I said was, "your humor."
She just shrugged and said, "So I'll see you then?"
"Do I have a choice?"
Justin said, "Doesn't sound like it."
I looked at him then I looked at Valerie, who if not in this life, in a past life was probably a headmistress and beat kids with her ruler. I sighed as I heard myself saying, "I'll see you then."
With my zero dollars and one credit card, I'd managed to secure a hotel room for the night. I couldn't believe I was actually doing this, but the next morning I was over at what I was now assuming was their place instead of just being Justin's, bright and early and fully caffeined loaded.
Valerie turned out to be a morning person. I'd just barely managed not to turn into a homicidal person. There wasn't enough coffee in the world to prepare myself for the chipper, bopping of Valerie in morning. Her mouth just kept going and going and going. I almost thought about just getting up and leaving, because with the way she was talking it was obvious that she didn't really need me here. A pillow or an air particle would’ve done just fine too.
Thankfully though as the morning wound down so did her energy. It was like watching a balloon that's pricked with a tiny hole, slowly deflate. And while she was losing momentum I was only just truly finding my own energy outside of caffeine boosts.
and your slowly shaking finger tips
show that you're scared like me so
And now she'd left Justin and I alone. Though I had a feeling that we weren't as alone as she'd want us to think we were.
let's pretend we're alone
and I know
"She's setting you up." I said. "I hope you realize this is a set up."
"I know."
you may be scared
and I know we're unprepared
Looking at him, I waited for him to say more. He didn't, so I said, "So ...do something!"
He just smiled for a moment, before sighing and saying, "What do you want me to do? Tell her I'm not secretly in love with you, like she seems to think I am?"
"No, no." I shook my head at that and laughed. "That would be stupid. Why don't you just sit back, look pretty and do nothing. Cause clearly... that's a much better idea."
but I don't care
To that he said nothing and didn't even look at me.
Glancing at him, I said, "What happened to you?"
He turned back to me then. "What do you mean?"
tell me tell me
what makes you think that you are invincible
"I mean, where's your balls? Did you give 'em to her as an early wedding present? Cause that would be cute." I nudged him. "You should make a song about that. It's my balls in a box!"
Again, he said nothing.
I can see it in your eyes that you're so sure
please don't tell me
My smile dropped. This is not the Justin I used to know at all.
"Seriously, what happened to you? I'm busting your hypothetical balls and you're as responsive as a person in a coma or JC's career—same difference."
That one earned me an instant frown. "If you want to talk shit about me that's one thing, but leave my friends out of it."
"Your friend? I talk to him more than you do now."
He rolled eyes, but went quiet again.
"And we're back to that."
that I am the only one that's vulnerable
impossible
I didn't immediately try to dive in and push us out of the way from the silence that was barreling at us. This time I let the collision happen. I let the impact sink in. I let it be. How you deal with silence was very important in relationships, romantic or platonic. The longer you could endure silence the better the relationship. Back when Justin and I were basically Siamese twins we were so close, silence was nothing. We ate silence for lunch. Now we stumbled when silence came around. Now silence made me itchy, like a wool sweater I was just dying to get out of. And yet he kept bringing it around, this itchy silence and forcing it on me. On us. Only if it was bothering him the way it was bothering me, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.
"I was joking. About Josh. You know I was joking right? I love that dude."
I was born to tell you I love you
isn't that a song already?
I get a B in originality
Nodding, he said, "I know you do."
Sounded like he said that with some slight bitterness, but maybe I was just reading too much into it. I did use to have a huge crush on JC, but he was older and cute and completely not interested in me so that was to be expected I guess, but Justin had never really seen it that way and had always seemed to be vaguely annoyed by it, even when he'd used to tease me about it.
and it's true I can’t go on without you
I watched Justin's profile for a few seconds, wondering what he'd been doing in the last five years that made him like this. Wondered why he'd been avoiding JC just as much as I'd been avoiding him this whole time. Wondered if JC wasn't the only person he'd been avoiding--maybe it didn't matter that I was avoiding him because he had been avoiding me right back.
Then I nudged him again. He looked at me, I smiled and said the first thing that came to mind when I looked at him, "You know I love you too."
your smile makes me see clearer
if you could only see in the mirror what I see
He smiled back and it was the same old smile, the kind of smile that could probably make anything okay--even itchy sweater like silences; he'd opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Valerie came out of nowhere and yelled, triumphantly, "I knew it!"
and your slowly shaking finger tips
show that you're scared like me so
let's pretend we're alone
We both jumped. Her eyes just narrowed at this. Maybe it did look a little suspicious.
and I know you may be scared
and I know were unprepared
but I don't care
"What the fuck?"I said, holding her heart and frowning at Valerie. "However you took it, that's definitely not how I meant it."
tell me tell me
what makes you think that you are invincible
Justin nodded. Standing up now, wrapping his arms around Valerie, he said, "There's very few things you can be sure of in this life, but one of them is that Simone Smalls doesn't genuinely love me. Or could ever genuinely express such a feeling to anyone."
I can see it in your eyes that you're so sure
please don't tell me that I am the only one that's vulnerable
Then he kissed the side of her face in such a way to produce a bunch of Pepto Bismol like giggles from her. I say Pepto Bismol giggles, solely based on the fact that it makes me want to puke.
impossible
I was back in my hotel room. I should've been packing up, getting ready to make that long trip back to New York, because there was no reason to stay here any longer.
Okay, of course there was pretty of reasons to stay longer, but most of them were just about being nosey and trying to figure out what Justin could possibly see in Valerie. Leaving now wouldn't give me any answers about their well kept secret relationship. But staying wasn't an option.
So I was packing my bags—or bag rather, since I hadn't brought much because I hadn't been planning on staying long—when the phone rang. If it wasn't for the steady, persistent ringing, I would've never picked up in the first place. It's not like anybody knew where I was staying here so I wasn't expecting any calls.
I, very politely, answered with a, "Who gave you this number?"
"Or hello works too."
It was Valerie. Apparently she was a evil headmistress, a stern librarian and a former CIA agent all rolled into one short, tenaciously cunning woman. I rolled my eyes, but didn't add anything to the conversation.
She said, "You didn't unpack did you?"
"...no." I hesitated, waiting for an explanation, but when none came, I said, "Why?"
"I heard you're a little strapped for cash lately, so this little excursion is probably not bank account friendly for you."
Damn is there anything this woman doesn't know or can't find out? I wanted to ask just that, but instead I just chalked it up to Justin having somehow found out through the grapevine (JC or my mom) and that's how he knew and was able to tell her.
"And no, Justin didn't tell me that. Lynn did. Apparently you haven't talked to her in awhile either, but your mom and her still speak every once in awhile."
Always glad to know I can count on dear old mum to spread my business around. When I opened my mouth to speak, Valerie must've decided waiting for me to do that would take too long and reading my mind again would just be easier. She said, "No, he doesn't even know. She didn't tell him. Figured your pride wouldn't like that much. Said, your pride means everything to you."
It was one thing for my own momma to tell everyone and their momma about my business, but I didn’t like that Lynn had done this, especially to tell Valerie no less.
I could see Valerie being all chummy with Lynn, but just as a way to pump her for information, but then again, Lynn had always been a pretty good judge of character so if that's all Valerie was about she'd have figured that out before long. But how close were Lynn and Valerie?
Lynn had almost been like a second mother to me. Sometimes even when I had my mother nearby to talk to, I'd still call her and ask her advice on things. And I know I should've put my pride to the side and called one of them—Justin or Lynn, but hell, the phone works both ways. And if they know so much and knew what was stopping me from picking up the phone, why couldn't they have just done that?
Pride was about all I had left and nobody was taking that away from me.
Then Valerie said, "And no, I won't tell him either. I'll just say you're staying with us for a bit cause I keep my friends close, and my enemies closer."
"We're enemies already? I don't even know your last name."
"Timberlake," she said and hung up without another word.
I just stared at the phone, wondering if I was really that broke that I had to take this job. Sighing, I dropped the phone into the receiver.
Goddammit.
Simone Smalls was a professional. Simone Smalls didn't let the fact that she was now helping to plan the wedding of her former best friend, now awkward quasi-friend keep her from doing her job to the fullest. Simone Smalls sometimes thought in the third person when she was trying to justify a stupid decision.
I should've just said no. I've should've just gone back to New York. I should've just scrounged up my little chump change (formerly known as a life's savings) and gone back to New York, sucked it up—it being my massive, stupid pride—and asked JC if I could move in with him for the time being. I knew he'd say yes. I knew it, but I couldn't ask him. I didn't need saving.
Simone Smalls didn't need saving. Simone Smalls was no damsel in distress. Simone Smalls was a rescuer, a soon to be phoenix who was going to rise out of these ashes. Simone Smalls really needed to stop thinking in the third person.
Besides working for Valerie was fun.
Fun like sticking a fork into an electrical outlet while putting a leg into a tug of water. Good times.
When she wasn't being overly decisive and take charge via nitpicking, she'd occasionally ask me, "If it were you, what would you want?" Typical bride question, but coming from her it never seemed that way completely. Maybe I was just being paranoid though. Maybe I just didn't want to like her and since she didn't care if I liked her or not that didn't help matters.
And neither was the fact that Justin was definitely avoiding me. He wasn't doing it an obvious way. He wasn't walking out of the room as soon I'd come in. He wasn't suddenly going mute when I'd start talking. It was all very subtle, things that you'd have to know him to know that he was brushing you off. Under normal circumstances, I would've either confronted him or let it go, but I was doing neither. And it was driving me up the wall.
That is until I overheard Valerie and Justin fighting. I know, I know, I'm horrible for finding some joy in that, but hey, I never claimed to be an angel. Plus, it wasn't even a juicy fight anyways, nothing to get any dirt on her from, they were just fighting over the fact that Justin had still not picked out a tux yet. Which wasn't worth eavesdropping on, so I stopped listening, until I heard my name being dropped into the mix.
Next thing I knew, Valerie was in my face. "Take him. You've got to take him, before I kill him."
I just stared at her.
"Please." She said, like she really was afraid she'd kill him if he didn't get out of here soon and into a shop and into a tux fitting. Scary thing was, I'm not really sure that was an exaggeration either.
Now I was standing outside with a sullen Justin. I might have laughed at his pouting face if I knew the chances of his anger spilling out and over onto me about Valerie and whatever else was really bothering him wasn't mostly likely to happen if I did. So I held it in.
He said, "Which car do you want to take? Yours or mine?"
I wanted to go in his, mainly because I hadn't ridden in anything that nice...well since the last we'd hung out. JC would've never driven in something this flashy. Instead I heard myself saying something about going in separate cars.
"Okay" was all he said, before he walked over to his car.
I stood in the driveway, frowning and watching as he pulled out, before it really hit me that he wasn't going to argue with me about it like he used to.
Well, all-righty then.
You have my heart
And we'll never be worlds apart
Maybe in magazines
But you'll still be my star
Suit hunting had turned out to be far more tedious than I could have imagined it to be. Several hours later and it looked like it was finally over.
"That's it. That's the suit."
He was doing a slow spin in front of the mirror, looking very unconvinced. He said with a slight frown, "You think?"
"I know! That's it."
He still didn't look convinced, but he stopped looking at his reflection and looked at me for a long considering moment, as if instead of trying the suits on he should've been trying me on to see if I still fit him. Then he turned, heading back into the dressing room without saying another word.
Baby cause in the dark
You can't see shiny cars
"What?" I said to his retreating back, his former frown now transposed onto my face. "You don't like it?"
"I like it." He said, from behind the closed curtains.
And that's when you need me there
"Then what's the problem?"
With you I'll always share
Because
When all he did was sigh, I sighed back and said, "If you don't like it, we can..."
"I said, I like it."
"So what are we fighting about?"
When the sun shines, we’ll shine together
Told you I'll be here forever
Then he walked out, conveniently forgetting that he was only half dressed. His chest bare to the world, though technically it was a very small world, since I was the only one around at the moment to see. He just stared at me for a second, before he said, "Why couldn't we drive in the same car?"
The frown that I'd started to lose at the sight of him was back. "This is why you've been pissy all day? Cause we drove in separate cars?"
Said I'll always be a friend
Instead of answering me, he went back to the way he'd been all day: silent and broody. He went back into the dressing room without saying anything and when he came back out, this time he was fully dressed and carrying the suit across his arm.
"So are you getting it?"
To this he said nothing, like I kind of figured he would, but he answered the question anyway, since he went straight to the counter and paid for it. Out of the store now, I watched him heading straight for his car, still saying nothing to me. Throwing my hands up in the air, I said, "What the fuck, Justin? This has to be the dumbest fight in the world."
Still tight-lipped, he got into the car, but didn't drive off. I went to mine, but didn't drive off either. His pissy mood was rubbing off me. I just sat there gripping the wheel with y keys dangling from the ignition, while I occasionally glanced over at him. A few minutes passed this way, him not moving, me not moving, until I gave in and made the first move by getting out of my car and going over to his.
Took an oath I'ma stick it out till the end
He unlocked the door, but didn't look at me. As I slid into the passenger seat, he muttered a "fasten your seat belt" before he finally started the car.
Now that it's raining more than ever
"Does it still count as kidnapping if you got into the car willingly?"
I don't know how long we'd been driving for. I don't know where we are. I do know that my butt went numb about an hour ago. My stomach's been growling for the last ten minutes. And Justin hasn't spoken to me at all.
Know that we'll still have each other
You can stand under my umbrella
"Like, is there a time limit on it? If you don't complain about what's happening within the first hour, then it's not a kidnapping situation?"
He was still annoyingly silent.
You can stand under my umbrella
I sighed and groaned. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
These fancy things, will never come in between
You're part of my entity, here for infinity
Because
"How many times are you going to ask me that?"
"How many times are you going to make things unbearably awkward?"
When the war has took its part
When the world has dealt its cards
And when he fell quiet again, I screamed with shaking fists and all. "I fucking hate your stupid ass."
If the hand is hard, together we'll mend your heart
When I looked over at him, he was smiling now. Slightly. The fucker.
My stomach growled again. "I'm hungry."
He opened his mouth, closed it. Then a moment later he said, "How come you never came up with a nickname for me?"
I just frowned at the side of his head for a moment, before I tried to remain calm as I said, "Justin, I don't know what's wrong with you. I changed my major away from psychology for a reason. But if you've become a psychopath in the last five years, I understand. Life without me has gotta be a bitch and a half of an Olsen twin. But right now, I'm hungry. I don't think well when I'm hungry. I don't respond well when I'm hungry. I don't fucking care about your issues over not having a nickname from me, when I'm hungry!" I was screaming by then, more like screeching actually.
But the squeaky wheel gets the oil and closed mouths don't get fed. And so screaming at him had led to us pulling into the nearest drive-thru. He actually looked a little scared as he was handing my sandwich over. This only made me smile, not as much as the sight of my food did though. When I finished eating, I wiped my mouth and said, "Thanks."
He looked over at me as if he was afraid to make eye contact. "I forgot how you are when you haven't eaten in a while."
Smiling, I shrugged. "Betcha won't forget again."
A thoughtful look passed across his face and I rolled my eyes, because I knew his mind had backtracked now that he thought it was safe again to do so, so I said, "I never came up with a nickname for you cause you already had too many. Trousersnake, Curly, Stinky, JT, J, that God awful Juju." I shuddered. "So it's not like you really needed another one."
You can run into my arms
It's okay don't be alarmed
He glanced at me and probably would have stared a bit if we'd been at a red light. "I know, but..." His eyes shifted back to the road that seemed to be leading us into a similar nowhere that this conversation was. "I gave you one. JC gave you one and you have one with him."
I sighed. "JC calls me Loser. I call him Freak. Those aren't things you normally want to be called."
"You two aren't normal. Well, you're not normal and he's not normal around you."
"You don't even call me Biggie anymore, so what difference does it make?"
Come into me
"We don't even talk anymore."
"So there you go. You don't need nicknames for a person you don't talk to."
There's no distance in between our love
When we fell back into silence I knew that if I let him be the one to speak first that he was going to do something stupid and want to talk about his feelings. Instead I focused on the more practical side of things.
"Justin, be honest, are we lost?"
So go on and let the rain pour
I'll be all you need and more
Because
He blushed and nodded sheepishly.
"You're such a stupid ass." I said. "Now you have a nickname from me."
"Stupid ass?"
"Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
He was quiet again, but being confined in this car with him, knowing he was going to eventually want to push issues that were the reasons (whether smart or otherwise) for us having not spoken in five years, the anxious anticipation was driving me crazy. And I knew that's what he was counting on.
"I know what you were thinking when you did this. You thought if you got me alone and trapped that we'd talked. That we'd talk about shit we probably should've talked about years ago, so we can finally get over it. But what you failed to realize is, that I am over it. Okay? I'm over it. We don't have to do any emotional heavy lifting, cause I'm over it. And now you're wondering if you're over it too? Well, you damn well better be since you're on the fast track to getting married. And pass or fail on the marriage, I'm still getting paid for the wedding."
It's raining
That was not the response he'd been looking for. I could read that loud and clear, even just from his profile. But instead of going quiet again and biding his time, he said, "I think we should turn around and ask the people in that gas station back there how to get out of here."
Ooh baby it's raining
I almost started to say something smart-assed about how real men don't ask for directions, but if it was possible for the people in that gas station to help us get out of here, the location or here, the awkwardness, I was more than willing to listen. Cause, hell, I was lost.
Baby come into me
Come into me
______________________________________________
This monstrosity featured: Secondhand Serenade - Vulnerable
Mandy Moore - Umbrella (cover)
