CHAPTER 3
The next few months of my life, things (for the most part) remained the same. Maria and I were still the best of friends and Justin and I were still the best of enemies. We constantly traded insults and even played the occasional prank on one another.
As for my love life, that all remained the same. I had no boyfriends, no dates, no one who was even remotely interested in me as more than someone to point and laugh at.
Justin and Maria's love lives did change, though. On Winter Break, Maria and her family went skiing. While she was on the slopes, she met an older guy by the name of Lance Bass. He was a sophomore in college and he seemed really enamored with her. They called each other all the time and went on dates during the weekends.
Justin and Carrie Hollis went out for a while, too. Their relationship only lasted about a month--I guess they realized the only thing they had in common was their good looks.
So, life went by. Nothing dramatic, nothing out of the ordinary.
Until one day, in English class…
***
"One of the greatest works an author can write is a biography," Mr. Watts addressed the class. "I have a challenging assignment for you all, and I am quite excited to introduce it.
"You will each be writing a biography on someone in this class. I will explain who your partners will be later. I really want you to reach out and get to know the person to whom you're assigned. Find out what their fears are, what their weaknesses are, and what their strengths are. This will not be a paper about what your classmate's favorite color is, but it will be a reflection of who they are.
"The paper will be no less than five pages long, and please have it be no more than ten. As much as I would love to read about all of your lives, I do have to have these graded by the end of the year." Mr. Watts laughed. "Now, I told you all that you would have partners. Normally, I let you choose whom you would like to work with, but this time, I want you all to step outside of your little high school boxes. I've gotten to know all of you through your writing and your participation in my class and so I've decided to pair up those who seem to be the most different from each other. With that said, I will pass out the list of partners."
I bit my fingernails as the list was passed around the class. Mr. Watts knew that I didn't like anyone in our class, but he also knew that I wasn't particularly fond of Justin Timberlake. I just hoped that he would pair me up with anyone but him.
The list finally reached me. I found my name, and printed next to it was the name of my partner: Hannah Thomas. She was a weird girl, but way better than you-know-who.
I passed the list over to Justin for him to read. He scanned the list several times and then raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Timberlake," Mr. Watts called on him.
"I don't see my name anywhere on this list."
Mr. Watts booked it to the back of the classroom and looked over the paper. "You're right; you're not on the list. I don't know how I missed you." Mr. Watts looked perplexed. "We have an even number of students in this class, so there has to be an error on this list… Ah, I see it! I put Hannah Thomas' name down twice! Of course she wouldn't catch it because she's not here. So… I must fix this." Mr. Watts took the paper back to his desk and looked at it closely. Finally, he edited the paper with his pencil, and then addressed the class.
"It was brought to my attention that I had made an error on the assignment sheet. Hannah Thomas was written one too many times, and Justin Timberlake was not on the list at all. Two of you in this class have Hannah as a partner: Carrie Hollis and Alison Chasez."
What was Mr. Watts going to do? Was he going to make Carrie my partner instead? Or would he make Justin my partner? Either option was not looking good. Hopefully, Hannah would remain my partner.
"Carrie, Hannah will still be your partner. And Alison, your new partner is Justin."
I suppose Mr. Watts thought it was for the best. He knew about Justin and Carrie's messy break-up--but why couldn't he have put Justin and Hannah together? Why me?
I didn't have time to think over this question because soon Mr. Watts was addressing the class again.
"Now that the partner mess is figured out, I can give you your due date!" Mr. Watts clapped his hands together. He was truly enthusiastic about the project--which was more than I could say about anybody in our class. No one liked his or her partner. "Your typed, single-spaced biographies are due two weeks from today. I will give you class time every day until then, but you will also probably need to meet outside of class. You can begin now."
Everyone hesitantly left their seats to sit closer to their partner. I didn't have to go anywhere since Justin sat so close to me.
Normally Justin would say some sort of arrogant comment to me, but neither of us spoke. I think we were both letting the reality of the assignment sink in: we had to actually get to know one another--and we had to meet outside of class. Oh, this was going to be an… interesting two weeks. That is, if we didn't kill each other.
"So, I guess we should get started," I forced out after a few minutes of silence.
"Yeah, I guess so," Justin looked at me with disgust on his face. It was the look he gave me everyday.
I looked down at the assignment paper that Mr. Watts had passed out. The paper listed hints and guidelines about the project. My eyes fell on the word "interview" and I had an idea.
"Okay, so, this is what we should do," I told Justin. "We'll spend today thinking of questions to ask the other person, and then we'll get together tomorrow in class and answer them. Does that sound good?"
Justin shrugged. "I guess so."
"Don't sound so excited." I remarked sarcastically.
"I'm just not really happy to be your partner. I would have preferred anyone else over you." Justin sure had a way with words.
"Well, it's not like I wanted to be your partner either, okay? I don't like you, I never liked you, and I will never like you. That won't change. But we need to get this assignment done. I don't know what your priorities are or whatever, but I want an A on this assignment--even if it kills me. And it just might."
"I want an A, too. I just don't want it to stand for Alison."
"Well, we can't change that. So stop being such a baby and shut up. I want to work on my questions for you. The more we do in the class, the less we'll have to do outside of it. And I don't want to do anything outside of class with you."
Justin replied with, "And I don't want to do anything outside of class with you."
"Nice comeback. Now, shut up, please."
Justin obliged and we silently went to work.
***
Being the overachiever I am, I worked on the questions at home (after I had finished my other homework assignments). I thought about what people would be interested in knowing about Justin if they didn't know him like I did. I came up with plenty of questions to ask him about his background and his life before he came to my high school.
I told Maria about the assignment at lunch the next day and asked her for any questions that she would ask him.
"I know exactly what I would ask him," Maria said, biting into a chocolate chip cookie. "I would ask him, 'What's it like to be popular?'"
"What kind of question is that?"
Maria licked her lips before saying, "You act like my question is stupid, but you know you want to know the answer. I know I do."
I looked past Maria. Justin was laughing it up with all of his friends. They all seemed so happy. How was he able to make so many friends? Why was he so desirable (not to me, but to everyone else)? How come personality counted for nothing at this school? All of those questions swam through my head. They were questions that definitely never made it onto my list.
***
"So, here are my questions," I handed Justin two pieces of paper filled with my questions. "Where are yours?"
"Let me get them out of my backpack."
As Justin reached into his backpack, I decided to explain how we were going to answer the questions. "So, instead of answering these questions aloud, I figure we should just write down our answers. That's the best way--that way we don't have to talk to each other and we don't have to take notes--it's all right there."
Justin just nodded, then handed me his paper with his question. Yes, that was singular.
I glanced at him suspiciously, but he was busy reading my questions.
I looked down at the paper, at the same boyish handwriting that I had seen earlier that year on Maria's note. One single question was written and it infuriated me.
"Is this supposed to be a joke?" I tried to keep my voice down, but the anger was still there.
"No," Justin said simply. "If you answer that question for me, I'll have all I need to write a biography about you."
"My answer to 'How did you get so fat?' would not fit the requirement for this assignment! You know what, I don't care if you don't take this assignment seriously--you can get an F, I don't care. But you better answer my questions seriously or… or I will slap you so hard."
"Again?" Justin laughed. "You are a very violent person. Maybe I should change my question to, 'How'd you get so violent?'"
"Maybe I should erase all of my thoughtful questions and ask you how you got to be such a jerk. Because I certainly could write ten pages and more about how much of a jerk you are."
"And you definitely could fill ten pages up with your fat. Oh, I forgot--you can't even fit in a size ten."
I sat at my desk, trying to decide if hitting Justin again would be a good idea. I decided it wouldn't, but I did tear his paper with the question on it in half. Then I crumpled it up and threw it at his head.
"You know, throwing paper at me isn't going to make me take this assignment seriously." Justin then took my papers and ripped them in half as well.
I couldn't believe he just did that! I had worked for two hours (at the very least) making those questions up.
"I hate you!" I told him through clenched teeth.
"And I hate you," He said in a sugary voice.
I wanted so much to get out of my seat and stomp out of class, but I knew that if I did, I would just make a mockery out of myself. Instead, I continued to torture myself by sitting by Justin.
"How come you're so annoying?" I asked aloud.
"You must like me," Justin reached out to play with my hair. "I wouldn't get under your skin so much if you didn't like me."
I swatted his hand away. "I don't like you. I just don't understand why you're so annoying."
"You never will. You will never understand me. I'm just too complex for you."
I rolled my eyes. "No, you're too arrogant for me. I have never met anyone as arrogant as you. You disgust me. Everything about you disgusts me."
"I'm glad the feeling is mutual."
I closed my eyes. I did not know how I was going to make it through the assignment. Justin was impossible to work with.
"Are you sleeping?" Justin poked my arm. "Ooh, your arm is squishy. That's kind of cool." He continued to poke my arm.
"Justin, please stop." I said sternly.
He stopped, and then began to play with his pen.
We didn't get anything done that class period. We had wasted two days of class time and only had eight more left before the assignment was due. I didn't know what I was going to do, but something had to change.
***
I walked home that afternoon with a lot on my mind. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get any information out of Justin, and he would end up making me get a bad grade. How could I write a good paper about him if he didn't help me out? Then, suddenly, it hit me! JC knew Justin… maybe I could get JC to help me out. He could definitely provide me with facts about Justin. I picked up my pace, eager to talk to JC on the phone.
My walk was going well until I saw Justin coming my way, carrying a grocery bag. I made a face. I really didn't want to see him.
He came up to me. "So, you took my advice and you're trying to lose weight. No need to thank me."
"You're right, there is no need to thank you since I am not trying to lose weight. I am trying to go home and you're in my way."
"Justin! Justin, who is that?" A woman that I hadn't noticed before, also carrying a grocery bag, called. She was a few feet behind him.
"This is a girl from my school, Mom." Ah, so it was his mother. She looked nice and friendly. Justin looked nothing like her.
Justin's mom joined us. "Well, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"
"Mom, this is Alison Chasez. Alison, this is my mom, Mrs. Harless."
I smiled at her. I had no reason to hate her (except for she was the unfortunate woman who gave birth to my arch nemesis). "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Harless."
"Call me Lynn. Nice to meet you, too, Alison Chasez… Chasez? Are you related to JC?"
"Yes, he's my cousin." I nodded politely.
"He's a great guy. Well, anyway, I need to get in the house to put these groceries away. Would you like to come in and have a snack?"
Justin, standing behind his mother, tried to shake his head no. He didn't want me to come into his house.
It was decided. "I would love to come inside."
I followed them into their house. It was nice, homey. It reminded me a lot of my house--it wasn't gigantic, but it wasn't small either. It was nicely decorated, yet it wasn't so stiff that you couldn't feel comfortable in it. I liked it.
"You have a really lovely home, Lynn." I said as I followed both son and mother into the kitchen.
"Thank you, Alison," Lynn said as she put the groceries away. "I'm really glad we bumped into you. I've been begging Justin to invite some of his friends over, but he always protests. Why, he only had his old girlfriend over here three times." Lynn laughed. "Justin, why don't you get your friend something to drink or eat?"
"Alison, what would you like?" Justin asked me in the nicest voice he had ever used. Under his breath, though, he added, "Besides the whole refrigerator."
"Oh, a glass of water would be nice. I'm still full from lunch, thank you."
Justin nodded and got my glass of water. When his mother wasn't looking, he "accidentally" spilled it on me.
"Oh no! I'm so sorry, Alison! I'm really clumsy." Justin apologized. "You should probably go home and change out of those wet clothes."
"Alison, you don't need to go home," Lynn said. "Justin always orders his shirts fifteen times too big. Why don't you borrow something of his?"
Though I would normally take offense to what Lynn had said, I was delighted at the chance to further torture Justin.
"Justin, show her to your room and give her a shirt." Lynn ordered.
"Yes, Ma'am." Justin looked at me. "Follow me."
We walked through the kitchen to the living room, and then to a hall. Justin led me to the end of it, where there was a door. He opened it up and walked in. I followed, loving the chance to see his room.
The walls were painted baby blue and there were basketball jerseys in frames hanging on the walls. Among the jerseys were posters of Michael Jordan, Michael Jackson, and Janet Jackson.
"Well, at least you aren't racist." I commented.
"Ha ha," he said, going through his drawers trying to find a shirt for me. When he did, he threw it at my face. "Hurry up and change. I want you out of my room."
Then he left, slamming the door behind him.
I quickly changed into the shirt. When I was done, I decided to look around his room. You can tell a lot about people by looking at their room. My gaze swept over his unmade bed (messily covered in a basketball patterned comforter), his dresser bursting with clothes, and his desk--overflowing with papers. I went over to his desk. I opened up the top drawer. It was filled with supplies such as paperclips, post-its, and staples. The second drawer had organized papers in it. The last was the best one. Sitting there, with a lovely leather cover was a journal. I flipped through it to see if he had actually written in it--he had. Perfect. I could get whatever I needed out of Justin in that journal.
A knock on the door startled me. "Are you done changing yet?"
I dropped the journal and rushed to where I had been standing before. Then I told him he could come in.
"What took you so long?" Justin looked at me and saw the way his large t-shirt hugged my rolls. "Oh, I see. You were struggling with trying to fit into that."
I blushed. I mean--my face got red with anger. "Whatever."
"Well, my mom says you should hang out here for a little while. So I guess we should… hang out. You like video games?"
I nodded. I loved video games, but he didn't have to know that. Being the social outcast that I was, I spent a lot of time by myself. Nintendo helped distract me from my loneliness.
Justin hooked up his N64 and passed me a controller. "We can play one of my racing games."
"Okay," I said, clearing a space for myself on the floor.
Justin started up the game, and soon we were racing each other. I got really into it, determined to beat him. He was in first place, but I was catching up to him. We were almost to the finish line when I blasted past him and took first place.
"I won! I won!" I chanted. I did a little victory dance from my seat on the floor.
"Yeah, whatever." Justin said. "I let you win. You're a guest at my house."
"Yeah, right, Justin. Okay, I'll make you a bet… I bet you I can beat you at any racing game you pick."
"So, if you lose, what do I get?"
I thought for a second. "If I beat you--which I will--you have to take our project seriously and answer every single one of my questions truthfully."
"Okay. And if I beat you?"
I shrugged. I didn't know of anything that Justin wanted from me.
"I got it," Justin said. "If I beat you, then you have to write your biography about you for me."
"Fine," I said. "It's a bet."
We shook hands, and then Justin dug through his collection of video games. He pulled out a Nascar cartridge and put it in.
"You are so going to lose," he said as he prepared the racing game.
"Never!" I replied.
Our race began. I started out in the lead, but Justin caught up to me. Soon, we were dead even. It wasn't until our last lap that I really put on the speed, and I ended up taking first place easily.
"So," I said, dropping the controller on the floor. "I win, which means you have to take our project seriously."
"Okay, a bet's a bet." Justin said, somewhat deflated. "Well, let me show you out."
I got off of the floor (with some difficulty) and grabbed my not-so-wet-anymore t-shirt.
As he led me to the door, I said good-bye to Lynn. She was sitting on the couch reading a magazine.
"Come over anytime, Alison," she told me warmly.
I smiled and said I would, much to Justin's dismay.
Justin walked me to the sidewalk. "My mom makes me walk everyone out."
"I like your mom," I told him. "She's cool. She's nothing like you."
"Oh, but I am cool." He raised his shirt collar, as if he were Elvis.
"Only in your own mind. Anyway, thanks for letting me borrow one of your shirts. Oh, and thanks for spilling water all over me."
"It was an accident."
"You're an accident." I retorted. "See you tomorrow at school. Be ready to answer my questions."
As I walked home, I smiled. Justin had to answer all of my questions truthfully. I knew he wasn't one to renege on a bet. Now all I had to do was rewrite the questions I had made up before. I could do that. But what I couldn't do was get Justin off of my mind. And the weirdest part was: I didn't want to.
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