Chapter Fourteen
Justin sat in the Jacques family kitchen, sipping on a cup of black coffee and reading the comics. He rarely drank his coffee black due to the fact that it was absolutely disgusting, but it seemed that neither Rachael nor her mother had been to the store any time recently, as there was nothing even remotely resembling cream or sugar anywhere in the kitchen. This meant that there was no milk, which in turn meant that he was currently eating his cereal dry. Normally he would have just skipped it, but he was in a bad mood, and damn it he was going to have some cereal.
He had seriously considered just skipping out the night before after the little episode with Rachael, but decided that he didn’t want to her to wake up alone in her house with an awful hangover. And after the time during the last N Sync tour when she had stuck with him through one such hangover despite being insanely mad at him, he owed her. It was times like these when he wondered if he was perhaps a little too nice. But then after last night, he didn’t think he could possibly get any nicer. The amount of self-control it had taken him to refuse Rachael when she was practically forcing herself on him was more than he’d ever even imagined he had. He’d never said “no,” to a woman before, and he’d certainly never said “no” to someone who could make him feel dizzy and as though electricity were coursing through his whole body by merely brushing her lips against his. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed to stand up and walk away from her. For someone who was constantly accusing others of trying to seduce her, Rachael was pretty damn good seductress herself.
He’d spent the past hour sitting in the kitchen and dreading the moment when Rachael came into the room. More than once, he’d stood up to leave, then turned around and come back determined not to just run away from the situation. He had no clue how she was going to react, and wasn’t even too sure how he felt about everything. His emotions seemed to change every few minutes and at the moment he was trying to decide between angry and guilty. Though what he had to feel guilty for he wasn’t sure. He just felt guilty. He’d never had PMS before, but he was beginning to suspect this was what it felt like. Well, the mood swing part anyway. He looked up as he heard her coming down the stairs. Rachael entered the kitchen seconds later, still wearing her clothes from the night before and looking absolutely miserable. “Morning, Justin,” she greeted him with a yawn as she slid into the chair across from him. Well, that was normal enough. “I feel awful,” she continued, resting her head on the table.
“Headache?” Justin questioned blandly.
“Yes, a terrible headache. If this is what hangovers always feel like, I don’t know why anyone ever gets drunk.” Her voice was muffled as her face was still facing the table, but Justin could still tell what she was saying, even if he did miss a word here and there.
“Because the fun of it overrules the torture the next day, I guess.”
“Like hell it does.” Rachael’s head snapped up suddenly and she eyed Justin for a minute. “Wait, why are you in my house?”
“You don’t remember?” he asked, trying to decide whether he should feel relieved or not.
Rachael frowned and shook her head. “Nope, don’t remember.”
“I brought you home from the party and offered to stay the night so you didn’t have to be alone.”
“Oh! Yeah…I…still don’t remember that, but I remember you carrying me up the stairs. And I remember telling you you sucked a couple of times. And something about wallpaper.”
Justin laughed, but it came out sounding hollow and a lot more forced than he’d intended. The fact that she didn’t seem to remember much of what had happened the night before changed things considerably. Should he tell her, or should he just take advantage of the fact that she didn’t remember and pretend it hadn’t happened? Truth was while he didn’t want to deal with the consequences of bringing it up, he also didn’t like pretending nothing was wrong when he felt like punching a wall. “Oh, um…yeah, your ex-boyfriend Adam was at the party and you were going to go upstairs with him to check out the bedrooms and see the ‘pretty wallpaper,’” he informed her, forcing himself to smile as though the absurdity of the wallpaper line still amused him.
”Oh good Lord. I remember that. Did I kiss him too? I think I kissed him,” Rachael continued, seeming quite oblivious to Justin’s odd behavior.
“Yeah, I think so.” He put on a high pitched voice and imitated the slurred speech his counterpart had adopted the night before. “’Justin, Adam is really good kisser. Did you know that Adam is a really good kisser?’” He laughed again, this time sounding a bit more normal, and Rachael looked like she was about ready to puke.
“Oh my God…I’m an obnoxious drunk!” Justin shrugged and stood up to put his coffee mug in the sink.
“You’re not that bad,” he assured her. Rachael raised an eyebrow as he sat back down.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting weird.”
“What do you mean? I’m not acting weird.”
“Yes you are. I just gave you the perfect opportunity to tell me I’m obnoxious and you didn’t take it. Granted, you are less likely than I am to take advantage of something like that, but it isn’t like you to pass it up completely. What’s up?”
Justin shrugged again. Apparently his subconscious had decided the best course of action would be to pull a Rachael and pretend like nothing was wrong. Problem was that he wasn’t very good at it. “Nothing’s up, I just don’t feel like making fun of you.”
Rachael snorted. “Yeah, okay, something’s up. What’s wrong? Did I do something to piss you off that I don’t remember?” Justin considered telling her for a split second but quickly decided against it. He wasn’t going to be seeing her for a while and there was no point in causing trouble. He shook his head.
“No. I have to get going. Got another show in Memphis tonight and then we’re off to the next venue. I’ll call you, okay?” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before hurriedly heading out the door.
“Okay!” Rachael called after him, furrowing her brow in confusion. She probably should have been used to random acts of weirdness from Justin by this time, but she really hadn’t been entirely expecting this one. They’d had some awkward moments after the concert the night before, but she had a weird feeling that there wasn’t something else he wasn’t telling her. She was thinking so hard about this that she practically jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice.
“Good morning, sweetie,” her mother greeted her, walking into the kitchen with a smile. “I just saw Justin leaving. Did he stay here last night?”
“Oh, yeah, I got a little drunk last night and he stayed here with me so I wouldn’t have to be alone.”
Katie gave her daughter a surprised look. “You got drunk? Since when do you drink?”
“Since last night apparently. It’s a horrid practice and I never plan to do it again. So, uh…did Justin seem okay to you when you passed him?” Her mother shrugged.
“Yeah, fine. Why? Is something wrong?”
“I’m not sure.”
***
“Dude, what is up? It’s like you’re on another planet or something,” Trace interrogated Justin, sitting down across from him in the latter’s dressing room. It was about an hour before the show, and Justin had seemed a little off all afternoon.
“Last night when I took Rachael home she kind of tried to force herself on me,” Justin let out in a rush of breath. He didn’t feel like being secretive anymore and he figured he needed to tell someone so he didn’t keep it all bottled up inside.
“Whoa,” Trace replied simply. “So what happened?”
“I let it go on for a little while then told her that I didn’t want to take advantage of her and left.” Hearing the words come out of his mouth, Justin couldn’t remember the last time he’d sounded so miserable and pathetic. If only the fans could see the great Justin Timberlake now, sitting in his dressing room pouting and pining away for the one girl who seemed to be out of his reach.
It was obvious to Trace, as it had been for a while, that his friend wasn’t quite as over the woman in question as he liked everyone else to believe. “You are a nobler man than I. What happened this morning?”
“Nothing. She didn’t remember.”
“And you didn’t tell her?”
“Nah. I didn’t see the point. It would just freak her out and make her act even weirder than usual, and I don’t want to deal with that right now.”
“So now you two keep secrets from each other? Since when?”
“Since last year when we suddenly decided that honesty was only the best policy when it didn’t involve discussing our feelings. God, I’m so sick of this whole thing. I just want to drop off the face of the earth or something. Yeah. That sounds good.”
“So I’m guessing you’re about ready to admit that you still want her?” Trace ventured slowly.
“Hell fucking yes.” The room suddenly filled with the tune of Missy Elliot’s “Get Your Freak On” signaling the fact that someone was calling Justin’s phone and his face fell.
“Who is it?”
“Britney.” He’d almost forgotten about her.
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