August, 1992

She chewed on her lip, staring down at the sheet music in front of her with concentration before leaning forward to make a few notes in the margin of the page.  Taking a deep breath, she leaned back against her pillows, trying to relax before taking it again from the top.

Her patience was wearing thin, frustration setting in as she battled to get the sound required for the assigned piece.  She closed her eyes, running through the strum patterns and chord changes in her mind before sitting up, resting the guitar on her crossed legs.  Putting the pencil between her teeth, she bit into the wood as her fingers strummed quickly, finding the correct rhythm at last.

Three minutes later, she’d spit the pencil out, her eyes narrowing as she played it through two more times, grinning when she was satisfied with both turns.

“Yes!” 

The guitar was placed safely on the comforter before she leaped off the bed, both arms raised above her head as she did a quick victory dance around the room.  She slammed into the wall in mid-turn and sent herself sprawling to the floor, knocking her head against the dresser as she went down.  Her groan echoed off the walls as she shook her head, blinking quickly to get the room to stop spinning.

The phone on her desk began to ring and she tried to sit up, thinking better of it when her head spun again.  Twisting around, she crawled across the room, reaching up blindly until she finally pulled the handset away from the cradle and to her ear.  The room spun once more, wobbling in front of her as she sat with her back against her nightstand. 

“Oh, God.”  She realized that she was speaking into the phone and quickly corrected herself.  “I mean . . . hello?”

There was a silence on the other end before an unsure male voice came over the line.  “Uh, hi.  Is . . . is this the Lawson residence?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Oh, good.  For a second I thought I’d dialed the wrong number.”  He cleared his throat.  “Is Jennifer there?”

“You’ve got her.”  Her fingers massaged the sore spot just behind her temple.  “Good Lord, that hurts.”

There was a strange choking sound on the other end, but she was too distracted to care that he was laughing at her.  “As much as I’d love to know what you’re talking about, I’m going to steer far away from it.”

“Sorry.  I hit my head on the dresser when I fell.”

“Ouch.  Are you okay?”

“I think so.  I’m just seeing all kinds of spots.”  She blinked slowly.  “And the room keeps spinning.”

“Okay.”  His tone was bewildered.  “What exactly were you doing when you fell?”

“A happy dance.”

“A . . . a happy dance?”

“Yeah.  But I hit the wall.”  Her mind slowly focused.  “Wait, wait, wait.  Who is this?”

“Tony.”

“Tony?”  She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against her knees, trying to place the name but drawing a blank.  “Okay, Tony.  My brain’s pretty much soup right now, so you’re going to have to help me out here.  Do I even know a Tony?”

“Well, I guess you do.  Kind of.  By association.”  It was obvious that he was trying not to laugh.  “Tony Lucca.”

“Lucca . . .”  After a second, it finally clicked.  “Oh, right!  Tony Lucca.  You’re in the Club with Josh.”

“Yeah.”  He was silent for a second.  “Wait.  You’re a friend of Josh’s?”

“What?”  Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“You know Josh?”

“Of course I know Josh.  He’s like my brother.”

“He’s like your brother?”

“Well, yeah.  The last time I checked, he was.”  She pulled the phone away, staring at it in frustration before moving it back up to her ear.  “I’ve known him for as long as I can remember.”

“Hang on, I think I might have the wrong number after all.”  His voice became muffled, evidence that he was speaking to someone else in the room with him.  “This is Jen, Chasez’s friend, right?”

“Right.  Jen would be me.”  Her head shook back and forth in irritation as she groaned.  “As if that made any sense.”

“Okay, great.”  Quiet laughter carried over the line.  “So you’re not some friend of Ackerman’s?”

“Ackerman?  Who’s . . . ”  Her voice trailed off as it finally made sense.  “Oh, I get it.  You’re talking about the other Josh.”

“Other Josh?”  She could hear his confusion.  “Do we have more than one?”

“Crap, I keep forgetting that you guys call him JC.  My Josh is your JC.”  A sigh escaped.  “Can we just start this whole conversation over?”

“Nope, sorry.  I think we’re on the right track now, anyway.”  His smile carried on his voice.  “You’re JC’s friend Jen and I’m JC’s friend Tony.  If that’s straight, then we’re good.” 

“Okayyy . . .”  She drew the word out, giving herself a second to gather her thoughts.  “So, Tony Lucca who’s in the Club with JC . . .”

“Yes?”

“What can I do for you?”

“Oh, that’s right.  I actually had a reason for calling.”

His flustered tone brought a smile to her face.  “You did?  And here I thought you just wanted to hear a random girl make a complete idiot of herself.”  He laughed again and she decided that she liked the sound.  “And that reason would be . . . what, exactly?”

“Well, you know his birthday’s coming up this weekend.”

“Right.  Sunday.”

“We were gonna throw him a party after the show on Friday.  Make it a surprise and all that.”

“Ahh.  Cool.”  She pushed herself up from the floor, carefully settling down in her desk chair.  “He’ll appreciate that.  Just . . . if you get a cake, make sure it’s chocolate.  It’s kind of a tradition with him.”

“Really?”  His surprise was obvious.  “Well, I guess that would explain the cupcake thing from last year.”

“Cupcake thing?”

“Yeah.  He went out and got one of those Hostess cupcakes . . . wait, we’re getting off track again.”  He cleared his throat.  “Where were we?”

“Birthday party.  Friday after the show.  I suggest a chocolate cake.”  Her elbow propped on the desktop, her forehead dropping into her hand as she tried not to laugh out loud.  “Do you need a gift idea or something?”

“Actually, no.  We’ve already thought of the perfect present, but we need your help to pull it off.”

“Okay.”

“When do you go back to school?”

Her eyes moved over to the calendar.  “Like the 18th or something.  Not for a few weeks.”

“Great.”

“Tony . . . spit it out.  What do you need me to do?”

“Could you fly down here for the weekend?”

She stared down at the desk, thinking she must have heard him wrong.  “You’ll have to run that by me again.  You want me to what?”

“Fly down here for the weekend.”  Her mouth opened, ready to tell him how crazy that was, but he barreled on before she could make a sound.  “I know it’s short notice, but the older cast members have pooled our money together . . . we have enough for a round trip ticket from Maryland to Florida.  I’ve checked it out, and we could get you on an early flight Friday morning, so that you’d be here for the show that afternoon.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.  You know that he hates spending his birthday here, when his family’s up there.  Usually his dad is here, but he’ll be leaving out Wednesday for some kind of training deal he has to do in Chicago.  He won’t be back until next week.  Like, Wednesday or Thursday.  JC’s going to be stuck here by himself and . . . well, that kind of sucks.  We want to surprise him by having you here to celebrate with him this year.”

“That’s . . . that’s really nice of you guys.”  Her teeth worked on her lip.  “You know that’s too much for a birthday present, right?”

“This is going to be birthday and Christmas rolled up into one.”

She fell silent as she thought about it.  “Round trip.  How many days are we talking about?”

“Well, I figured it’d be better to check with you first.  You can go back anytime you want, but I need to have an idea of how long you’ll be here before I book the flights.”  Pages began rustling on his end of the line.  “You could just stay for the weekend or you could hang around for a few days.  No matter when you leave, it won’t affect the price.”

“Okay.”

“Well, what do you think?  Can you make it?”

“God, I’d love to fly down there and see him.”  Her fingers combed through her hair.  “I’ll have to talk it over with my mom, but I think it’s possible.”  The sound of the front door opening carried up the stairs and she turned to look out into the hall.  “Listen, can I call you back in about an hour?”

“Sure.”

“What’s the number?”  She grabbed a pen and scribbled as he rattled off the digits to her.  “All right, Tony.  I’m going to be as persuasive as I can and try to work something out.  I’ll let you know in a bit, okay?”

“Okay.  Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

She reached over to hang up the phone, then stood and stretched.  Moving quickly over to the dresser, she stared at herself in the mirror, practicing the hopeful look that always got her what she wanted.  “Okay, here we go.  Josh.  Florida.”  She turned to walk out of the room, talking softly to herself.  “Going to Florida for his birthday.”  A smile crossed her face.  “If that’s not motivation, I don’t know what is.”

*********************

Friday

Her eyes moved around the crowd at the gate, wondering how she was supposed to recognize anyone.  Someone bumped into her from behind, pushing her to the side, and she stepped back, moving to lean against the wall and continue her perusal of the faces.

It took a few minutes, but she finally focused on a younger guy holding a little sign that had her name on it.  Sighing in relief, she slung her duffel over her shoulder and pushed her way through the crowd toward him.

“Hi.  I think you’re looking for me.”

He turned to face her, his eyes widening as he got a good look at her.  “Whoa.  Um . . . you’re Jen?”

“In the flesh.”  She noticed how his eyes moved over her again and gave him a tentative smile.  “And you are?”

“Oh . . . right.”  Shaking his head, he extended a hand for her to shake.  “Tony.”

“Ah . . . the infamous Tony.”  Her laugh carried over the terminal noises.  “You’d think I’d recognize you from watching the show.”  She paused when he gave her yet another look over.  “So . . . do I look like the crack head you pictured?” 

“No.  Definitely not.  Far from it.”  He cleared his throat, reaching out to take her bag.  “Actually, I’ve seen a few pictures of you . . . but you’re not exactly the same, are you?”

“I’ve grown up a little since eighth grade.”

“You don’t say.”  His smile grew as he took her arm, gently pulling her away from the crowd.  “Do you have any other bags or is this it?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay, let’s get you out of here.”  He led the way, going out a side exit and walking quickly to the closest parking structure.  “Sorry for the rush.  I had to pull in a few favors to get free so I could come pick you up and I really need to be back in time for . . .” 

“Hey, it’s no problem.  I needed a run today anyway.”  She laughed.  “Josh isn’t exactly the easiest person to surprise, is he?”

“No, he’s not.  It’s like he knows everything.”  They stopped beside a blue car and she waited while he put her bag in the trunk and unlocked the door.  “It’s a mess, but there’s nothing in here that’ll bite you, I promise.”

With a grin, she slid into the passenger seat, fastening her seatbelt as he got comfortable behind the steering wheel and started the engine.  “So, how’s this going to work?”

“The skits for the show start filming in about half an hour.  I arranged to be the last person suited up so that I could run you by to drop off your bags and stuff before we head to the studio, but you only have the one bag, so we’ll just go straight there.”  He paused his thought to check both ways, then pulled into traffic.  “I figure we’ll hide you in the audience during the taping, since it’d kind of suck if you came all the way down here and then didn’t get to see everybody in action . . .”

“Well, I’ll be here for a week, so I wouldn’t worry too much about me catching the show, but I think that’ll work.  He’ll be too into what he’s doing to even notice who’s in the crowd.  I think you probably need to worry more about where you put me before show time.”  Her fingertips played with the switch for the automatic windows.  “Are you going to hide me somewhere or is it safe for me to just walk around?”

“You can hang out in the girls’ dressing room until they start letting the audience in, then one of us will sneak you out there.”

“And then, after the show . . .”

“Party time.  They’ll clear out the audience, we’ll go get ourselves back to normal and then we’re just going to use the set.  Music, dancing and all that jazz.”  His eyes slid over to her.  “Maybe by the time he gets over the fact that you’re here, he’ll have some time to dance with you.”

“You make it sound like he . . . like he gushes over me or something.”  She shook her head.  “He doesn’t.”

“That’s what you think.”  A knowing grin lit his features.  “I’ve seen how he stares at your picture when he’s on the phone with you.  You’re . . . you’re his Boof, whatever that’s supposed to mean.  He won’t explain it to me.”  Questioning eyes moved over to her.  “Care to shed some light?”

“Nope, I don’t.  If he doesn’t want you to know, then I’m not gonna be the one to spill the beans.”

“I didn’t think you would.”  Slender shoulders rose in a sigh.  “Anyway, he talks about you more than he talks about his family.”

“Okay, so we’re close.  He’s the closest thing to a brother that I’ve ever had.  But that’s all.”  Her eyebrow arched at him.  “Surely you’ve figured out that guys and girls can be just friends.”

“Oh, I know that.  But I’ve never seen two people as close as you guys are without there being something more.”

She looked up when he turned into a parking lot.  “We’re best friends.  That’s all there is to it.”  Her eyes focused on the building across the lot, taking a deep breath as she thought about him being inside those walls.  “The couple stuff has been said before and that’s not what we’re about.”

“Okay, okay.  I’ll buy that.”  He put the car in park and turned to look at her.  “Since you two are just friends . . . think I could have a dance or two?”

Her perplexed look quickly became a grin as she met his smiling eyes.  “Sure.  I still have to prove to you that I’m really not all whacked out in the head.”

“You’re best friends with Jace and you just agreed to dance with me.  I’d say that makes you pretty twisted.”  His laughter rang out as he opened the door.  “Come on.  He’s gonna go nuts when he finds out you’re here.”

*********************

The ending music finally faded out and the entire cast made a mad dash to get off the set, more than ready to get out of the stage clothing and into their own.

“Hey Jace!”

He turned when he heard the yell, finding Josh still standing on the set.  “What’cha need, Ackerman?”

“Can we run over Break It Down Again before you head to the house?”

His eyes narrowed.  “I thought we weren’t using that one this season?”

“Yeah, I know.  I just want to make sure it’s still good, since we haven’t done it in a while.”

“Okay.  Let me go get changed and stuff.”

“Meet me back here?”

“Yeah.”

Turning back around, he jogged off the set and into the wings, not paying a bit of attention to the people moving around behind him as he made a bee line for the guys’ dressing room.

Twenty minutes later, he’d showered to get all the stage make-up washed off and was pulling an over-sized T-shirt over his head, not caring that his hair was still wet.

He had just knelt down to tie his shoelaces when Josh’s head came through the doorway.  “You still alive in here, Jace?”

“Man, take it easy.  I’m working on it.”  His voice lowered to a growl.  “You can’t give a guy time to shower and change?  What’s the hurry, anyway?  You got a big date?”

“You could say that.”  Josh leaned against the doorjamb with a grin.  “Hurry up.”

“Okay, okay.”  Finishing up with the laces, he stood and pushed his way through the door.  “Let’s get this over with.”  He took off down the hallway, making the younger boy rush to catch up, grumbling the entire way back to the set.

Josh kept pace with him as they moved through the wings and onto the set, laughing softly when he saw how his friend’s head was down, his eyes on the floor, completely unaware of the crowd of people standing quietly in front of them.  “Jace, man.  Check this out.”

“What?”  His head turned to look at Josh, then . . .

“Surprise!”

He jerked around with a jump when he heard the yell, his eyes widening when he saw the people crowded around a table in the middle of the set.  “Whoa . . . what . . .”

“Happy birthday, C.”  Tony stepped forward, clapping a hand over his shoulder.  “Not all of us could make it on Sunday, so we’re partying today.”

“Wow.”  Music started playing on the speakers around the set and a bright grin spread across his features.  “Thanks, guys.  This is awesome.”

The whole group started milling around, talking, laughing and dancing to the upbeat music.

“You haven’t seen it all yet.”  Tony pushed him over to the table holding a large sheet cake.  “Chocolate, as per tradition.”

“Wait.”  His brows knit in confusion.  “How’d you know about the chocolate cake?”

“I made a few phone calls.  You know some pretty cool people.”

“Yeah, right.”  An eyebrow arched in distrust.  “How’d you really find out about it?”

Tony’s eyes focused on something on the other side of the room and he couldn’t help but grin.  “Forget how I knew.  Why don’t you take a look at your present?”

“There’s more?”  JC’s head shook back and forth.  “Man, the party was plenty.”

“Maybe, but I think you’ll like this.  Turn around.”

“Why?”

“Because it just walked in.”

“Oh, God.”  He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes with a sigh.  “Tony . . . I don’t care if you’re my friend.  If you’ve dragged out another of those girls you like so much for me, I’m going to kill you.”

“Jace . . . just turn around.”  When he still didn’t move, Tony reached out and grabbed his arm, physically turning him.  “I tried to put a big pink bow on it, but I was kind of afraid that I’d lose a hand or an arm or something.”

“Good call.  I can’t be held responsible for the violent tendencies I get when I’m around pink.”

JC’s eyes flew open at the female voice, widening in surprise when he saw her standing there.  Silently, his gaze moved over her from head to foot, studying her as if trying to make sure that she wasn’t a figment of his imagination.  “Jen?”

“I’m not that shocking, am I?”  She gave him a bright smile.

“What . . . how’d you get here?”  He blinked quickly.  “You are really here, right?”

Her arms crossed over her chest, a dark eyebrow arching sarcastically.  “No, I’m having an out of body experience.”

Almost cautiously, he reached up so that his fingers could tug gently at her hair, an affirmation that she was really standing in front of him.  “Okay . . . but how . . . why are you here, Boof?”

“As if it isn’t obvious.”  She gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes.  “I’m here because you have some friends who are out of this world and wanted to give you an awesome birthday.  Now thank them so you can give me a hug.”

“I think the hug should come first.”  The words weren’t even out of his mouth before he took a quick step forward, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her so tightly against him that her feet left the floor.  He grinned when he felt her forehead rest against his shoulder and her arms go around his neck, the fingers of her right hand threading through his hair.   She sighed against him and he instinctively began swaying side to side, pressing his lips to the side of her head, not caring one bit that all eyes were on them.

After a few minutes, she pulled back as well as she could with him holding her off the ground.  “Josh . . . I can’t breathe.”

“If I let you go, you’ll disappear.”

His words were soft, nearly swallowed by the loud music, but she heard them all the same.  “No I won’t.  Not for a week, anyway.”

Blue eyes opened, zeroing in on her face.  “Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”  She felt her feet touch the floor, but he still didn’t release her.  Tilting her head, she let her gaze move over his face.  “Hey . . . are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  He gave her one last squeeze, then let her go for only a second, his hands grasping her shoulders gently as a smile lifted the corners of his mouth.  “I’m just really glad to see you.”

“Um . . . okay.”  Suddenly, she became aware of all the stares directed on them.  Clearing her throat, she offered him a grin.  “Well, it looks like you have their attention.  Maybe now would be a good time for you to . . . you know, thank them.”

He looked around quickly, his grin growing by the second.  “You guys are the greatest.  Thank you so much.  This is . . . wow.”  Even as he spoke, his eyes kept coming back to her.  She never noticed, as she was busy trying to keep from focusing on any one person for too long, certain that she’d be on the receiving end of those knowing looks she’d been subject to since they’d turned eleven.

“This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.”  His voice drew her attention, her mind centering on him in time to return the smile he was giving her.  Not two seconds later, he’d pulled her back into his arms, swaying in time with the slow song that carried over the speakers.  Over his shoulder, her gaze fell on Tony, standing a few feet away with that familiar ‘yeah, right’ look on his face, an eyebrow arching when her eyes met his.

Her forehead furrowed in frustration and she shook her head at him in denial.  Then she allowed herself to simply enjoy that she was there, that they were together, and with a soft sigh she dismissed the whole idea.

*********************

 Sunday 

He stretched under the covers, sighing deeply as he came awake.  Pulling the blanket tighter around him, he fought against the bright light shining in his face, refusing to leave behind the peaceful sleep he’d been enjoying.

Then the smell of something cooking hit his nose, immediately forcing his eyes open.  “Pancakes?”  His eyes narrowed at the ceiling as he took a deep breath, inhaling the delicious aroma.  “She’s seriously fixing pancakes?”  Without a second thought, he threw back the covers and rolled out of bed, running his fingers through his disheveled hair with a yawn as he walked out into the living room area of the apartment.

Music was playing in the kitchen and he could hear her humming along, something making a clattering noise as she dropped it into the sink.  He was already grinning by the time he’d made it into the doorway, stopping to cross his arms over his chest and lean against the door frame, fighting not to laugh out loud as he watched her.

She’d already showered and dressed, her worn blue jeans secured around her waist with what appeared to be a Native American beaded belt, the ends of it hanging below the loose-fitting Mickey Mouse Club tee shirt that one of the crew members had dug out for her.  Her dark hair was still damp, secured into a ponytail, the strands softening as they dried in the heat from the stove.

“Now I believe in miracles, and a miracle has happened tonight . . .”  Her sock-clad feet made her move easily as she spun on the linoleum and, using the pancake turner as a makeshift microphone, she let go and sang along with the Michael Jackson tune pouring from the radio on the counter.  “But if you’re thinkin’ about my baby, it don’t matter if you’re black or white.”

Bopping her head to the beat, she stepped back to the stove, flipping the pancakes in the pan before setting the turner down on the counter and reaching for the door of the refrigerator, imitating the guitar riffs vocally as she pulled out a pack of bacon.  The package was deposited on the counter next to the sink and she whipped around to dance back to the pancakes, flipping them once, twice, then giving a final pat with the turner before moving the finished cakes to the platter that already held a small stack of steaming, golden brown discs. 

“Protection, for gangs, clubs and nations, causing grief in human relations . . .”  She launched into the rap without missing a word, moving the platter of pancakes to the small table in the middle of the room and grabbing the bacon, ripping through the package and peeling out several slices to toss into the pan, where they immediately began to sizzle.

He bit his lip roughly, forcing himself into silence as her hips moved to the music, her hands busy with turning the bacon.  Leaving the meat to cook for a while, she took a few steps to the right, moving dirty dishes into the sink, clearing off part of the counter.  “If you’re thinkin’ of being my baby, it don’t matter if you’re black or white.”  A pop sounded from the pan and she turned once again, doing a weird combination of the Moonwalk and the Egyptian, moving backward until she was in front of the stove.

A few turns with the fork and she lifted the pan from the stove eye, carefully transferring the cooked bacon to the plate waiting on the counter then moved to put the pan in the empty side of the double sink.  Once it was down safely, she tilted her head back, raising her arm up and holding the fork toward the ceiling as she imitated the signature “Whoo!” at the end of the song.

Unable to hold it in any longer, he burst out in loud laughter, the sound making her jump in mid-spin.  The shocked movement made her feet cross over each other, tangling just enough to send her tumbling down onto the floor, the fork flying across the room to bounce harmlessly off the wall.  For a second, she just lay there, staring at the ceiling with a startled expression, then she began to turn a bright shade of red, her hands coming up to cover her face.

“I can’t believe you just caught me.”

He moved over and knelt down beside her, still laughing.  “I wish I had a video camera.  The only thing that could’ve made that better would’ve been catching it on tape.”  His fingers grasped her wrists gently, pulling her hands away from her face.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  She gave him an embarrassed grin and sat up.  “Enjoy the show?”

“You have no idea.”  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of the bacon.  “Since when do you cook?”

A short laugh escaped as she got to her feet.  “Since I took Foods as an elective last year.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  It’s fun.”  She turned, picking up the plate of bacon and moving it to the table.  “Do you want eggs too, or is this enough?”

“Pancakes and bacon?  Yeah, that’s plenty.”

“Not just any pancakes . . . chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Seriously?”  He grinned, grabbing her into a quick hug.  “Boof, you rock.”

“I know.”  She handed him a plate and sat down.  “Dig in.”

His eyes widened as he watched her douse her pancakes in topping.  “You’re going to be bouncing off the walls by the time you finish that.”

“Well, it’s better than the alternative.”

“What’s wrong with Aunt Jemima?”

“Are you kidding?  Aunt Jemima shouldn’t go anywhere near chocolate chips.  That’s just disgusting.”  Her nose wrinkled and she passed him the containers she’d just finished using.  “Here.  Have fun.”

“Chocolate syrup and Reddi-Whip?”  His eyebrow rose at her.  “Are you eating pancakes or ice cream?”

“Just try it.”  She took a big bite, sighing as the mixture melted in her mouth.  “It’s good.”  Her eyes followed him as he picked up the bottle of syrup and stared at it for a second.

With a shrug, he took his time covering the pancakes, then proceeded to make quick work of the food, barely pausing to nod his approval.

She laughed softly, reaching to grab a piece of bacon from the plate, chewing thoughtfully until she suddenly remembered, jumping up from her seat.  “Be right back.”  As she left the room, she finished off the bacon, wiping her fingers on the legs of her pants to get rid of the grease before pawing through her duffel.  Her fingers closed over a small box and she smiled, lifting the lid to make sure the folded paper was still inside, then made her way back to the kitchen, dropping the box next to his plate as she sat down.  “Happy birthday.”

His eyebrow arched as he picked up the box.  “Expensive things come in small boxes.”

Shaking her head, she laughed.  “I like to think of it as ‘it’s the little things that count’.”

He sent her a quick smile, lifting the lid and tilting his head when he saw the paper.

“Heather printed this off for me.”  She reached out, unfolding the page for him.  “She was doing a paper or something on her zodiac sign for . . . I forget what class it was for, but she looked up the entire family.  I read this and thought it fit you perfectly.”

“Leo.”  His eyes moved over the page, narrowing as he read the highlighted words and phrases out loud.  “Generous.  Ambitious.  Spontaneously warm-hearted and plainspoken.  Faithful.  Courageous.  Never lacking in kindliness.  Strong-willed.  Enthusiastic.  Is open, sincere, genuine and trusting.  Creative.  Uncomplicated.  Knows what he wants and strives to achieve it.  Loving.”  He looked up, studying her carefully.  “You . . . you think this is me?”

“I know it’s you.”  She took another bite of her pancakes, chewing slowly as she thought out her next sentence.  “I’ve known you long enough to see every possible side of you, good and bad.  But those . . .”  Her fork gestured to the paper.  “Those are the things I love most about you.”  She watched as he pulled out the black corded necklace, his eyes focusing on the silver pendant hanging from it. 

“It’s a lion.”

“Your sign.  And even though I don’t totally buy into that whole thing where the positioning of the sun or stars or whatever at your time of birth has anything to do with how you turn out . . . I can’t argue with the description on that paper right there.”  She took the last bite of her sugary breakfast, letting her fork clatter down on her plate as she chewed.  “The only thing is, I don’t think you see that those qualities are what make you who you are.  I wanted to give you something that represented . . . well, you.  And the person I hope you’ll always be.”  Her cheeks turned slightly pink and she grinned, laughing lightly.  “I almost got the key chain, but I thought it’d be too tacky, so I went with the necklace instead.”

“I . . . wow.  I don’t know what to say.”  Fumbling with the clasp, he opened it easily, but had trouble getting it to latch around his neck.

“Here, let me help.”  She stood, walking around behind him to work on the necklace, fastening it quickly.  “Is it too tight?”

“Nope.  It’s good.”  He looked up at her, rising to his feet to pull her in for a hug.  “Thank you.  How can you take the smallest thing and make it mean something so much more?”

“It’s a gift, I guess.”  Her fingers patted the pendant, pressing it against his bare chest.  Then she met his gaze, her trademark bright grin lighting up her face.  “Either that, or I’m just really desperate to justify a cheap present.”

She laughed again and he let his eyes move over her face, forming a smile of his own as her voice bounced off the walls around them.  He studied her, taking note of the subtle changes in her appearance, the evidence that she was growing up.  Her eyelashes were longer, her cheeks thinner, the sprinkling of freckles across her nose – once jumping out at him – faded to the point of being barely noticeable.  The lines of her jaw and chin were more defined, appearing more stubborn and strong.  Her lips were still the same reddish color, the corners still turned up in a natural smile, but they were fuller, more pronounced.

No matter how she changed physically, he knew that her heart, her spirit, would always be the same.  She’d always be the light-hearted, sassy, stubborn, loyal, laughing, perfectionist Jen that he’d grown up with.  She would always know when he needed to be brought down a peg or two, when his ego needed a little deflating, and she’d be more than happy to tell him straight out that he was being a jerk and needed to adjust his attitude.  Without a doubt, he knew that she’d always have his back, that she’d do her best to keep him grounded . . . and that she’d keep him smiling while she was doing it.

 Never change, Jenny. 

“Do I have chocolate sauce on my face or something?”

Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he realized that she was staring at him.  “What?”

“You’re staring at me.”  She ran a hand over her mouth.  “Do I have something on my face, or am I just that gorgeous?”

“You’re just that gorgeous.”  He answered with a grin, laughing when her eyebrow arched and she turned away from him to clear the table.  “I was thinking.  Sorry.”

“Anything important?”  Her head turned, looking up from where she was stacking their plates together.

“Nah.  Nothing worth talking about.”  Picking up the dishes she couldn’t carry, he followed her over to the sink.  “You never did tell me what you thought about the show.”

“It was great.”  She turned on the water, her fingers testing the warmth before she put the stopper in the drain and added the soap.  “It was different to see it live and in person, though.  When it’s on TV, you can’t see all the crew people running around between skits and stuff.  They do a really good job of making it seem like it only takes half an hour and that you’re really seeing a live show.”

“And the video?”

“Your song was awesome, Josh.  Runaway Train was a really good pick for you.”

He gave her a questioning look.  “Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”

“Because there is.”  She laughed and picked up a washrag, starting in on the dishes.  “You sound good on all the other stuff, but your best sound is on Richard Marx songs.  Why haven’t they let you do one yet?”

“It’s never come up.  Why don’t you request one?”

“Yeah, they’re really gonna listen to me.”  Her voice pitched upward, imitating a little girl.  “Hi!  Could you please have JC sing Now and Forever for me?  It’s my fa-a-a-avorite!” 

“You never know.  It could work.”  He intercepted her doubtful look.  “Okay, so don’t talk to them.  Maybe I can work something out for next season.  Would that make you happy?”

“Extremely.”

“I’ll just tell them that my number one fan wants me to sing Now and Forever for her.  Dedication and all.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Uh, yeah, I would.  What could you do about it?  Turn the TV off?”  Suds came flying his way and he laughed.  “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?  Admit it.”

“If there’s ever a dedication of any kind, I’ll reach right through that television screen and choke the life out of you.” 

“But what about all my other fans?”  His lower lip jutted out in a pout.  “You know they’d miss me, Boof.”

“Aww.  The poor babies.”  She grinned, tossing a drying towel to him.  “Now make yourself useful.”

He caught the fabric and saluted her.  “Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am.”

A snicker escaped.  “Yes, sir.”

“Shut up.”