Anyway.
Every time we got settled and relaxed somewhere it was time to move on to
the next place and it took forever for me to get used to it.
Even when I got used to it I still didn’t like but then again, neither
did they. Like in Tennessee --
after a few days there I felt like I’d lived there forever.
I got accustomed to the easy living
there really fast: breakfast at Lynn’s, lunch at one of his
grandparents’ houses, afternoons doing lazy stuff like driving around looking
at nothing in particular or hanging out with his brothers, then dinner with the
other grandparents.
One night we had dinner with Trace and a few of their friends from childhood. The guys all reminded me a lot of Trace, actually. That was weird because I don’t think Justin and Trace were that much alike so it was hard to imagine Justin hanging out with, like, four other versions of Trace. Then I thought about his ego and it made sense. I think Trace idolizes Justin in a way. Don’t get me wrong, their friendship is really close and everything -- or was for a time, then things got weird but I think they’re close again now -- but it was always clear that Justin’s the leader and Trace is the follower. The guys we had dinner with seemed like followers, too.
They all had
girlfriends with them and I guess all of them had known Justin since they were
all in grade school. None of them
seemed to be surprised that Justin was dating a black girl, which sort of
shocked me. I didn’t know a lot
about his image before I met him but while I could totally see him being into
black women – duh – I didn’t think it was a well-known fact.
I don’t know … I guess I never thought about it.
It certainly wasn’t a big deal to anyone that knew him.
They all knew each other really well; the whole dinner, which was cooked
out on a grill, was spent with everyone reminiscing over things they used to do
and people they knew in common. Pretty
soon questions about MTV, other celebrities, all that sort of stuff came up and
one of the girls started to bring up Britney.
To my surprise I saw Trace give her a look and she changed the subject.
Trace wasn’t
such a pain in the ass on that trip.
All in all the
night was fun, but I didn’t get the connection between the guy I knew as my
boyfriend and the people we were with. They
were nice and funny but they were all younger than me, and even though they were
the same age as Justin I could see a big difference in their level of maturity.
All except for Trace worked in town -- only two of them went to college
-- and they were all paired up, ready to get married and be together for the
rest of their lives. In fact, two
of the couples were already engaged and planning their weddings and they were
only eighteen.
Just like Justin. I was
raised in a pretty big city so I wasn’t used to people settling down so early.
I was used to the opposite, where girls had to practically drag guys down
the aisle but this seemed to be normal behavior around there, judging by
everyone’s lack of reaction. It
was weird to think that if he hadn’t joined the Mickey Mouse Club or whatever
that, he would probably be joined at the hip to some girl and maybe going to
college or working someplace, just hanging around a small town until he got
married and had kids, probably before he was twenty-five.
As much as I
adored him, the thought of getting married would’ve scared me to death.
I thought about it, of course -- every girl does -- but not seriously.
We even joked about it sometimes but if he’d ever come at me talking
about getting married with his barely legal self … let’s just say I wasn’t
ready to marry anyone, let alone someone with his lifestyle.
But being around those kids and hearing them talk about getting houses,
having babies and stuff made me daydream about having a life like that with
Justin for a minute. It would be
nice, when and if
we were ready for it. Which we so
were not, as will be proven later in my memoir.
Like I said, the
night was fun but I didn’t really fit in with them.
The things they asked him about were things I already knew and the things
they reminisced about weren’t of much interest to me.
I didn’t want to keep interrupting the story flow by asking them to
explain things and bringing up my degree and plans to go to graduate school just
didn’t seem to fit into the scene, so I mostly sat watched Justin have fun
while I got busy with some barbecued chicken.
It seems boring and it definitely wasn’t exciting, but I relaxed.
The best part for me was watching him.
I said before that he’s never more himself than when he’s at home in
Tennessee and that night proved it even more.
Since he knew and trusted everyone there he was relaxed and silly,
completely un-self conscious. As
much as Mike was growing on me, it was also nice to see him living like a normal
person even for a few days, no bodyguards or anything.
But the night was
over all too soon and before I knew it, it was already time to leave the house
I’d gotten used to. Lynn and Paul
took us to the airport after we stopped by the house of damn near everyone
related to him so he could say goodbye, and then with a few hugs and a big
container of peach cobbler thrust into his carry-on, we were on our way back to
Orlando.
“You sleeping,
baby?” Justin was already digging
around in his backpack to pull out his Discman the second we were up in the air.
I wondered how he
knew I was planning on napping but then remembered that’s all I’d ever done
when we flew. “You know it,” I
answered as he flipped up the armrest between us so I could lay my head down in
his lap, our usual habit.
He reclined his
seat some and got more comfortable. “You’re
still doing okay? No more sick
sh*t?”
It’d been
almost two whole days since I’d thrown up and no one was more relieved that
me. Even my headaches seemed to
have gone away. Justin thought it
was because I was finally at ease with his family and while I agreed with him
somewhat, I thought it was more because we had spent the remainder of our visit
there sleeping in his room each night without Lynn giving us a single glance.
Such a little thing shouldn’t seem like it would make a huge difference
but that was Our Time. Whatever
stresses he or I had during the day, whatever he or I were worried about, we
used that time alone to talk about it and work out whatever was on our mind.
Because I felt like I had to spend most of the day being on, being
cheerful and like a really great girl, that was the only time I got to just
collapse on the bed and share whatever I was feeling.
I think that was the first time I understood the pressure he and the rest
of the guys are constantly under. They
can’t have a bad day or be grumpy because they’re just not supposed to;
it’s not part of the program. They’re
happy guys that are the best of friends who never fight and blah blah blah …
So when he would blow up or have his little temper tantrums, I sort of
understood a little bit.
“Nope, no more
sick sh*t,” I answered as I balled up his sweatshirt to rest my head on.
Settling down, I closed my eyes. “I
can’t be sick, we’ve got Ricky, remember?”
He groaned,
rolling his eyes. “How could I
forget? Your … friend,” he said
it like it was a dirty word, “keeps f*cking calling to talk about it every
five seconds.”
Even though he
and Sasha’s relationship only seemed to get worse instead of better, he was
going to NYC with us for the whole Ricky Martin adventure.
Somehow JC had arranged for us to go to TRL -- not to sit in the audience
because we’d rather kill ourselves, but to hang out backstage -- and meet
Ricky and Justin didn’t like it. Not
for any particular reason, mind you, just because.
He really didn’t have to go but I think he would’ve missed me as much
as I missed him, so he was rolling, much to Sasha’s dislike.
He was trying to get JC and the rest of the group to come up to NYC
because they could get some recording done, which was fine by me because JC
seemed like a great buffer and I didn’t feel like being the only one keeping
them from ripping each others’ throats off.
“You don’t have
to come, you know,” I said irritably. “You’re
the one who’s insisting on going with us.”
It was true; I hadn’t even bothered to invite him because who wanted to
deal with him and Sasha? His
participation was all his idea and if he was going to bitch about it, he could
just stay at home. I’d miss him
and all but I liked Ricky Martin and was genuinely excited about seeing him and
going to MTV.
“I’m just
going ‘cause it’s New York,” he said back just as crankily.
Both of us could change from being happy to scowling and snapping at each
other in seconds. “Not to see her
… or him.
He gives me the creeps. Just
like your friend.”
I pinched his leg
as hard as I could and he yelped, making everyone turn and stare at us.
We were in first class, a luxury I loved and was getting used to fast.
My dad would’ve rowed a boat across the ocean rather than pay for
first-class but Justin wouldn’t consider anything less.
Everyone heard us goofing off and looked at us like we had sneaked in
there – we were a lot younger than everyone else and acting sort of silly.
Luckily, my boyfriend isn’t intimidated by anyone.
He glared back at all of them until they went back to whatever boring
stuff they were doing and I laughed, forgetting about our argument already.
“What’s so
funny?” he asked, flipping through his CD case like nothing happened.
He’s so self-assured that half of the time he isn’t even aware that
he does that stuff. I loved it
because between him and Sasha, I always looked like an angel because they were
both so mean.
“You,” I
reached up and tickled his neck, which was back to its normal shade.
I made a mental note to take care of that soon.
“You’re such an ass,” I marveled at how he didn’t give a damn
about anything. And he really
didn’t, and still doesn’t.
He shrugged.
“I don’t know those people … they need to mind their own
business.” As the irony of
hearing him, the nosiest person I’ve ever met in my life, say that sunk in, he
returned to our previous topic. “If
I’m such an ass how come you’re getting to meet Rrrrreeeekeeey?”
He trilled his voice in a fake Spanish accent that cracked me up.
I wasn’t an
idiot. “JC arranged that, not
you.”
“Nuh-uh … it
was his idea to get y’all into TRL but I’m
the one getting you guys backstage at the concert,” he bragged, totally
shocking me.
“You are?
How? Are you kidding me
Justin?” I practically yelled I
was so excited as I sat straight up. In
hindsight I really don’t know what I was so psyched over; I guess I was happy
for Sasha because while I have always thought Ricky was hot and loved to watch
him and stuff, I knew I wasn’t exactly what Ricky went for.
If you know what
I mean.
He looked so
pleased with himself, smiling all big. “Yep
… I got you guys VIP passes instead of those crappy seats your girl got for
you. It’s not backstage exactly
because the show’s outside … but you get to see it without getting f*cking
trampled,” he told me. “Did you
think I was just gonna let you go to a standing room only concert of his and
have all those people push you around and sh*t?”
Hold up there.
Let me?
But then I thought about what he really meant – he wanted me to be
safe, he just said it in Justin-language, or caveman-language, which is the same
thing. However way he said
it, I was still getting to meet Ricky, go to MTV Studios and hang out with
Carson Daly, and see Ricky live from
VIP. I sure as heck wasn’t
complaining about a little chauvinistic behavior but really, he was worse than
my dad, harassing me every time I went to the bathroom or so much as made a
grimace. I’d noticed him watching
me closely for the past few days and was positive it was because I was growing
more obese by the second and he was getting more and more repulsed.
He gazed down at
me, and I couldn’t read the expression on his face.
He’d been giving me looks like that lately that I chalked up to simple
concern but this was getting ridiculous.
“What’re you
staring at?” I was going on a
diet that very second, no more cobbler and fried chicken and cake for me.
Suddenly I was glad we were leaving Tennessee because neither of us had
stopped eating from the moment the plane touched down.
I was going to exist off of salads and fruit for the next month, at least.
“I’m just
checking you out, making sure you feel okay … I’ll lay off.
Go to sleep,” he ran his hand lightly over my face so I’d close my
eyes but I didn’t. He was acting
totally sweet, almost overly nice, but just … weird.
“What’s your
deal? Why are you acting like I’m
dying?” I started to sit up as my
mind began to think up all sorts of horrible things.
“Do you know something I don’t?
Do I have some kind of disease, Justin?”
I clutched his shirt and he burst out laughing.
Although it allayed my fears immediately, I felt like the worlds’
biggest idiot because obviously I’d let my imagination run away with me.
Again.
“You’re f*ckin’
insane,” he chortled, still laughing at me.
Maybe it was a little funny but it wasn’t slap yo’ mama funny, he
totally overdid it.
Giving him a
malevolent glare, I lay back down and turned my back to him.
I didn’t move my head from his lap; it was way
too comfortable, but I let him know how I felt.
“I hate you,” I said as evil a voice as I could manage, which
didn’t matter because he ignored me, slipping his headphones on.
Pretty soon he was engrossed in flipping through his journal and reading
a book while he listened to demos. Instead,
I waited until the plane reached cruising altitude and everyone in first class
was either immersed in working on their laptops, watching a movie or sleeping,
then covered us both with the blanket that the nice stewardess had provided for
me earlier.
Then I thanked
him very nicely for getting us VIP passes in a way that only I can.
I don’t think
he hates Ricky Martin as much as he did before, either.
*~*
“You don’t
like it?” I glared at him.
Ingrate. He should be glad I
even thought of him at all!
“No, no, thank
you, I do,” Mike said wryly, looking at the sweatshirt I’d gotten for him at
Graceland. Justin was on the floor
with a pile of paperwork and smirking at us.
He could tell that I wasn’t blown away with Mike’s enthusiasm, or
rather, lack of enthusiasm over my
gift. “I like it, it’s just a
little …” He let his words trail off and Justin put his two cents in.
“Bright?”
“Shut
up, Justin!” Turning back to
Mike, I kept glaring. Mike had met
us at the airport and I was so glad to see him that I even hugged him.
Must’ve
been hormones.
He’d been
almost as excited about Graceland as I had been and somehow I spent the whole
evening telling him about the trip. It
was kinda scary to realize that I’d actually missed him.
Not that I’d ever admit it to anyone.
“It’s supposed to be
bright … you don’t get Elvis stuff from Graceland that’s boring.
I think it’s cute.” My
feelings were hurt. I got Mike a
bright red sweatshirt that had Elvis emblazoned across it in gold letters.
And a gold lightning bolt on the back.
Okay, so maybe it
was sort of bright. Wasn’t
it the thought that counted?
He held it up and
tried to look excited. Tried and
failed miserably but at least he was being nicer than my so-called boyfriend,
who was cackling to himself quite merrily in the corner.
I threw a self-help book he kept saying he was going to read at his head.
“Don’t be mad
at me! I told you to get him
something else. Sorry, man,”
Justin the Traitor said. “They
had these really cool gold chains, well, fake gold chains, with the lightning
bolts on ‘em and I told her to get that for you since you like jewelry so
much.”
Enough was
enough. He was just screwing around
with me at that point. All of their
bodyguards wore enormous ‘N Sync medallion necklaces that reminded me of Mr. T
every time I saw them. Even Justin
had one although I never let him wear it around me.
The garish JRT necklace was horrifying enough.
The point was that he knew they wouldn’t wear some fake lightning bolt
and I didn’t appreciate being made fun of.
“Well give it
back then!” I practically screamed, totally frustrated.
Why had I even bothered to try to do something nice?
I went to snatch it out of Mike’s hands and he yanked it away.
“Hey, I said I
like it!” he put a hand out to stop me from reaching over and grabbing it.
“Stop pulling on it!” Standing
up, he shook his head at me and then looked at Justin.
“What the hell is wrong with her?”
But Justin sort
of shook his head at him, telling him not to say anything about me being mad
which only made me angrier. “Don’t
act like I’m not standing here!” I screeched at him, watching him stand up
and start over towards me. “Don’t
come near me,” I warned him.
I don’t know
why I was acting so irrational. It
was like all of a sudden I was just an emotional wreck, ready to scream and cry
or something. Imagine, like, PMS
times a million and that’s close. And
seeing Mike look at me like I was an alien while Justin treated me like a mental
patient made me even more upset.
Mike evaluated
the situation and did what he does best – rolled out.
“Thanks for the present, Tara … I’m gonna leave you guys alone for
awhile,” he backed out of the room like he thought I was planning to attack
him from behind or something. Turning
away from him in disgust, I went to sit down on the couch only to find Justin
exactly where I told him not to be – right next to me.
“Go away,” I
growled and shoved at him a little. “Leave
me alone. You keep looking at me
and acting weird and I don’t like it.”
I walked out of the living room and headed upstairs for the bedroom,
thinking maybe a swim would make me feel better.
I had to do something with all the tension that sprang up out of nowhere,
but when I got inside the bedroom Justin tackled me from behind, pushing me
facedown onto the bed.
He was really
pushing his luck and I told him that, or tried to, since my voice was muffled
from the comforter. Keeping a tight
hold on me so I didn’t clock him in the head like I was planning, he turned me
on my side so we faced one another.
“T, what’s
going on? You’re all over the
place,” he said softly, putting his forehead against mine and looking right
into my eyes.
Sighing, I let my
body relax into the bed. “I
don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I
feel fine, I’m just … all over the place, like you said.”
I still felt frustrated but some of my anger was going away.
“I’m tired, I guess,” I whined, which wasn’t a lie.
Even though I knew I should work out, all I wanted to do was sleep.
His hand drifted
up to stroke my cheek. “This
isn’t normal, how you’re feeling lately.
You know that, right?” As
he talked he kept looking at me hard like he was trying to implant a message
into my brain. Unfortunately for
him, I’m not a mind reader and I had no idea what he was talking about.
Without meaning
to, I sort of snapped on him. “I know
it’s not normal. You think I
always felt like this? It’s probably because I’m dragging myself across the
continent when I’m supposed to be resting.
I didn’t do all this traveling and stuff before.”
As soon as I said that I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes and I regretted
saying it. But of course it was too
late to take it back. Before I
could apologize, he just sort of sighed and got off the bed, looking like the
weight of the world was on his shoulders.
“Maybe you
should go to sleep for awhile,” he suggested, and I could tell by the sound of
his voice that he was in what I call his ‘removed’ mode – where he just
needs time to get over being mad and there’s nothing I can do to coax him out
of the bad mood. His feelings were
hurt and he was right, I was acting
weird but it was like I couldn’t stop myself from taking it out on him.
I have to say
that he really is a great boyfriend because he took a lot of crap from me when I
was going through that whole thing. What
I’ve never understood, though, is why he didn’t just tell me what was going
on. I looked like a big enough
idiot as it was, not realizing what was happening with my own body, and I really
wish he would’ve just told me what he suspected.
I didn’t need to be protected from myself … but I guess because I had
been sick before he was worried that I might … well, I don’t know what he
thought. We never really discussed
it that far, ever.
But it’s not
his fault. I look back and think
about how freaking oblivious I was to what the heck was going on and am
mortified. I can only think that my
preoccupation with Justin and the whirlwind that I was caught up in from being
with him made me … pretty much stupid, I guess.
Life was so different when I started traveling with him that I really
thought my body was acting weird because I wasn’t exercising or eating healthy
anymore. I made a lot of excuses, I
know, but in my defense, my doctor did
tell me that I wouldn’t have a normal cycle and he never mentioned that
antibiotics could reduce the effectiveness of the pill.
Then again, the doctor I saw then was the same one I’d seen since I was
born and he never got into sexual activity with me, being a family friend and
all.
What a crappy
situation, right? If I had known
about it then I could’ve … well I don’t know that it would’ve made much
of a difference. I don’t think it
would’ve changed my decision either way.
Justin? I don’t know.
He had a lot of time to think about it and maybe that helped him figure
out what he wanted. I don’t know.
God, it hurts my head to think back to that time when I was so, so
stupid.
He left the room
and I was too tired and confused to get up and try to apologize.
Not that it would’ve mattered – when he was angry he needed his
space. Pouting was easy, I could
cajole him out of that in a second. But
anger with me … it was something I dealt with very well because it happened so
rarely … and so I tended to let him get over it some, calm down, and then
apologize with lots of kisses.
An
hour or so later I drifted awake to the sound of him tapping on the keyboard of
his computer, a strange sight. Getting
up from the bed where I was sprawled out, I went over to his computer desk.
For Justin to be on the computer things had to be very serious – he’s
an action sort of guy, not one who sits around and types stuff.
“What’s
wrong, sweetie?” I ran my hand
over his hair, which was growing longer and longer.
He really meant what he said about that stupid bet about who could grow
the biggest Afro, much to my dismay. I
still couldn’t believe his ex Veronica had been dumb enough to get involved
but it took away the potential jealousy. How
jealous can you be of a girl who has a 70’s bush on her head?
Those Orlando girl groups/singers were like a different breed from the
girls I hung out with and I didn’t even attempt to understand their thought
process.
His
thought process, on the other hand, was something I could figure out.
Johnny
had a big stack of stuff relating to the lawsuit waiting for him when we
returned and he was trying to wade through it all.
I took a few glances at it and tried to help him decipher it but it was
gibberish to me. Eventually I gave
up and he ended up going online earlier and he, JC and Lance were trying to
figure things out. I wanted to ask
what exactly was going on but it didn’t seem like a good time.
From the little I’d heard when he discussed it with Lynn or on the
telephone with Johnny or another group member, they threw around phrases like
‘a hundred million’ and ‘barred from performing’ and well, who wants to
keep reminding someone about that?
Shrugging,
he tried to brush off my concern. “Nothing,
just trying to figure this sh*t out,” he answered, but instead of continuing
to look through the sheaf of papers, he moved and shut down AOL with the speed
of lightning.
Weird.
Maybe he and the other guys had been talking about how worried they were
and he didn’t want me to see? I
disregarded the strange feeling I had, pushing the swivel chair he was sitting
in back and making myself comfortable in his lap.
“You always complain when I don’t tell you stuff … don’t think
you’re getting off that easy,” I took away the papers he had picked back up
and set them on the already cluttered desk.
“Nothing’s
wrong that you don’t already know about,” he leaned back in the chair and
rested his hands on my legs. “The
lawsuit, sh*t, that’s enough to drive anybody crazy.
But we’ll deal. And the
new album, getting producers and picking songs ... I know everything’s gonna
work itself out but sometimes I can’t ... I just ... I get pissed off, you
know?”
It
was good to hear him finally vent. “I
can’t imagine how you feel but God, just thinking about all the stuff you have
to do and hearing about the legal stuff makes me
crazy. I wish I could do something
to help you,” I continued running my fingers through his curls.
He
gave me a small smile. “You do,
baby. You do help me, I mean, if I
didn’t have you around I’d probably be committed or something by now.
This sh*t is, like, my life.
I don’t know how to do anything else and Lou’s f*cking trying to take
that away just when we finally got some props.
I just keep thinking what’s gonna happen if he wins, like what would I
do? Would we just change our name
or break up? And then if we broke
up could I do this by myself? I
can’t stop thinking about it and the only time it goes away is when I’m with
you,” he pulled me so I was leaning back against him, his arms wrapped tightly
around me.
We
were a great couple. If I wasn’t
worried and freaking out, he was up all night, unable to sleep and so tense that
he looked like he could explode at any moment.
I sleep like the dead but a few times I’d wake up I could tell he
wasn’t asleep by his breathing and body language.
Occasionally he’d be up writing in his journal or doing something – I
never woke up enough to know for sure – and I knew that the lawsuit bothered
him more than he let on. It was
sweet that he wanted to protect me from his problems because he knew I’d be
worried too, but I didn’t like not knowing what was going on with him.
God knows if I had a huge problem like that and didn’t share every
minute detail with him he’d have a stroke.
“It
is all gonna work out,” I reassured
him, resting my head in the curve of his neck.
“I mean, you guys have Johnny you help you and your mom, who will
literally kill for you.
You have good lawyers and everybody knows that man is a crook.
If Backstreet got away from him, you will, too.”
I wasn’t just saying that, either, I truly believed it.
“You
know, I sort of do think we’ll win, I mean, get away from him, but we’re
just gonna end up with the same deal that Backstreet got which means he
doesn’t have sh*t to do with their careers anymore but gets paid for
everything they do. In a way
that’s worse than what he does now, you know?
At least now he has to do some
work. If we get away from him, all
he does is sit on his fat ass and collect a check,” he fumed.
He had a point.
“But
he pretty much does that now, anyway,” I said hesitantly.
I didn’t like talking about this with him because I was clueless about
how it all worked and therefore never really knew what the hell I was talking
about. “And he doesn’t want you
guys to stop recording no matter what the papers say.
If you stop performing, he loses money either way … so trust me, some
kind of deal will be worked out.” I
hoped.
He
shook his head and stretched his legs out some.
“Okay, no more … I don’t wanna think about this sh*t anymore.
Change of subject!” he announced loudly as he reached out and turned
the papers facedown on the desk.
“Let’s talk
about the trip and how you’re going to be really, really nice,” I raised my
head to look at him and he made a face. The
subject of Sasha really got under his skin that day more than usual.
“Hopefully
she’ll be busy chasing after Rrrreeekeeey or leading JC around like a f*cking
puppy,” he said evilly. “He
makes me sick.”
“What
do you care if he comes? You said
you guys are going to record in NY anyway,” I asked.
“You really need to get over your hatred for her, Justin.
She’s not going anywhere, she’s my best friend.”
Like
me, he was just in a bad mood just generally.
Justin’s always moody but this a lot even for him.
Ho did he have the nerve to get an attitude about JC coming?
And of course conveniently forgetting that it was all his
big idea. I knew it was because
Sasha was coming and Bobbee was going home so he knew they’d probably be
inseparable.
“You
guys can’t both be with her,” he complained to me.
“Don’t be all hanging around her and C and have me by myself, T …
she’s trying to steal away all my friends.”
He sounded so pitiful. And
stupid. But so adorable, too.
“Aww,
baby,” I slid my arms around his neck and kissed him.
“I’m gonna hang out with her but we’ll be together, too … just
like in DC, right? That wasn’t so
bad, was it?”
He
had to drag it out, as dramatic as ever. “You
always leave me and talk to her, like at the concert.
And you did it other times, too.”
His eyes had to be brown he was so full of sh*t.
I had packed up all of my possessions and left my home for an indefinite
period of time in order to be with him … he was just trying to get some
attention. And since I was so
hateful to him earlier, I played right into his hands.
I
bit down on his lower lip gently for a second.
“You goof. I left home so
I could go everywhere with you … I’m never leaving you.
I’ll always go where you are, sweetie.”
He
gave me that serious look again, the one where he looked at me like I was
supposed to know what he was talking about, but still didn’t say anything.
“What’re
you thinking about? You’re giving
me that look again,” I asked him.
He
was immediately defensive. “What
look?”
“I
don’t know … you look at me all weird.”
He
looked really thoughtful for a few seconds, like he was thinking really hard and
I just watched, having no idea what was going on in that head of his.
“You know, I wondered … I was thinking about how, you know, it seems
like we’re going to be together for real now, you know?
I mean, like, I know we didn’t sit down and talk about it but I just
assumed you’re gonna … you know …” He looked so uncomfortable that he
stopped in the middle of his sentence.
“Stay
with you?” I asked and he nodded. “I
… yeah, I thought so, too … it’s not like there’s any reason we have to
be apart … and I don’t want to be. So
yeah, I guess we’re pretty much hanging together for now, until you tour or
whatever.”
He
remained serious. “Would you go
on tour? If we went back?”
Right
away I started to say yes and then I really took a second to remember the chaos
I’d seen when they were on tour before. Would
I really want to deal with that every single day?
Girls hating on me, my home and friends far away, spending lots of time
alone or hidden away because I didn’t want people taking pictures of me …
all of it sounded like a huge pain in the ass.
But the alternative was being far away from Justin, which was something I
couldn’t even consider at the time. It
would’ve been like someone cutting of my air supply or something, I needed
him then so much.
“Yes,”
I finally replied. There was no
need to go into details about what it would be like; he knew that I was aware.
So when I simply said yes, his whole body seemed to relax and he grinned,
making me grin back. “You’re so
silly, Justin.
“Why?”
“You
think I could let you go on tour with alllll those women and girls wanting you
and not be there to kick some ass? C’mon,”
I tried to sound very mean and scary which didn’t work, of course, and he
laughed.
“I
don’t want anybody but you,” he turned me so that I was sideways on his lap
and I rubbed my nose against his. “But
I wouldn’t mind seeing you fight … might be sexy …”
Ignoring
his perverted fantasies, I thought more about where we were headed –
specifically, why he was thinking along those lines when it didn’t look like
they were doing any touring anytime soon, other than a few scattered dates that
they were already confirmed for. “So
… what’re we doing here, J? Where’re
we going with all of this … togetherness?”
It seemed like it’d been on his mind for a while.
He
shrugged, looking like he lost in thought again.
“I don’t know. I just
wanted to know … you know, things have been really good so far between us.
Right?”
Umm
… huh? “Yeah,” I answered
slowly. “They have, I think.
Why?”
He
shrugged again, and it was annoying me. “Things
are probably gonna … I mean it’s not always gonna be perfect, you know?
Like we might have problems one day … because, you know, thing might
come up that we have to deal with, problem or whatever … and I don’t know
…”
I
frowned, having no idea what the hell he was talking about.
“Everybody has problems, Justin. We’ve
had little things to deal with already, like jealousy,
for example?” I nudged him and
made him smile but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Sweetie, everybody has things that come up, its just part of every
relationship. You’re looking like
you don’t think our feelings are strong enough to get through normal
problems.” He was the one who
went around proclaiming that we shouldn’t care what anyone thinks … why was
he so scared all of a sudden?
He
sighed yet again. “No, it’s not
that. It’s that I don’t think
our problems are regular stuff—I mean, I don’t think we’d have regular
problems,” he said quickly, talking fast all of a sudden.
“Because of me or whatever, I guess.”
“Well
yeah, duh,” I answered, stroking his cheek.
“I already know that things aren’t gonna be 100% normal but … I
don’t think it’s anything to worry about, J.
We’re gonna be fine … see, now you’re making me
worry.”
He
kissed me so hard it took my breath away, holding me tight against him.
“No, don’t worry, T. Don’t.
I’m just … the lawsuit is making me worry about everything, but the
one thing I’m not worrying about is us. Honest.
I’m just … tired or something,” he put his face in my neck and
closed his eyes. “I didn’t get
a nap like you. I’m just
sleepy.”
It
was way too early for him to be thinking about going to sleep – he didn’t
like to go to bed until after 2 AM at the earliest – but maybe the trip and
worrying had tired him out. So I
didn’t question him, just climbed off his lap and pulled him up and over to
the bed. “C’mon, lay down,” I
pulled off his shirt while he took off his shorts and he got underneath the
covers, looking exhausted.
“You
coming with me?” he asked tiredly, reaching an arm out for me with his eyes
already closed.
“Of
course,” I answered and started to get undressed when my cell phone rang.
“Hang on a second,” I told him and dived for my purse, digging around
until I found it.
“Don’t
get it, call them back,” he protested but I waved him away distractedly in his
direction as I answered. It was
Sasha. “Hey Sash!”
I got off of the floor where my purse had been and walked over to the
bed, where Justin was waiting. A
suddenly wide-awake Justin. “What’s
up?
“You
tell me,” she replied, and I could hear her fingers tapping on her keyboard.
“I haven’t heard from you in almost two days.”
“Get
off the computer, you geek,” I said playfully.
“Are you talking to JC?”
“Yeah.
He signed on right when I called you and for once he IMed me instead of
trying to act cute. I told you how
he’s mad at me, right?”
I
sat on the bed next to Justin and he pulled me over to him, laying his head in
my lap. I ran my fingers through
his hair absentmindedly as I listened to Sasha fill me in on her new guy and how
JC was jealous about it. “Well, I
don’t know what the hell the two of you are doing anyway, Sash.
How can he be jealous if he has a girlfriend?
You guys need to stop acting so stupid and just, like, admit you like
each other,” I told her. “It’s
obvious you both do.”
“I
don’t like him like that,” she
said in a snotty tone.
“So
what do you talk to him every day for, then?”
Answer that.
“He’s
always online, he’s funny, and I like talking to him.
I told him that we’re not sleeping together anymore because of
Antoine,” she surprised me.
“Oh
really? What’d he say?”
Justin shifted in my lap and stared at me, curious about what we were
discussing, I could tell. I smiled
at him and kept playing with his curls.
She
sniffed. “He said he didn’t
care, which everybody knows is a lie,” she declared.
“Don’t you think?”
“That’s
so not true!” I exclaimed, totally not believing that. JC cared a hell
of a lot. Why else would he be
coming to New York?
“What’s
not true?” Justin asked, unable
to keep quiet any longer. He looked
really interested in the conversation but if he knew we were discussing
Sasha’s sex life he might vomit on me, so I didn’t tell him.
Shaking my head, I motioned for him to wait a second.
He looked perturbed. “What’s
she saying?”
“Is
that Timberfuck?”
Sasha asked, contempt dripping from her tone.
“Stop
calling him that or I’m hanging up on you,” I warned her.
“Leave my sweetie alone. He’s
tired.” I picked up one of his
hands and played with his long fingers and he relaxed again.
I guess he realized what we were talking about wasn’t that important.
“Who
gives a f*ck how he is? How’re you
doing?” Why was everyone
inquiring about my health?
“I’m
fine,” I said irritably. “Fine
… everything’s fine, I’m feeling wonderful except for being obese.
I gained, like, twenty pounds in Tennessee, Sash,” I moaned.
She
sighed. “You gained a lot of
weight? Didn’t you start working
out again?”
“No
… I’m so out of shape that I can hardly do anything.
I guess I’ve gotta build up my endurance again.
I’m gonna start doing something tomorrow, first thing,” Justin opened
his eyes and started listening again.
“Are
you sure you’re feeling okay?” What
the hell? Why was everyone acting
so damn weird?
“Yes
… why do you keep asking me that?” I
was getting suspicious.
About
f*cking time, you say? I can’t
argue with that.
She
sighed again and was quiet for a little while, making me even more suspicious.
“Hello? What’s your
problem, why are you being so quiet?” Justin
sat up next to me, leaning over to try and hear our conversation and I leaned
back, pushing against him.
“I
… “ It was a first, Sasha starting to speak and then stopping, unsure of
what to say. I was flabbergasted.
What the hell was going on?
“What?
What’s wrong? Is someone
hurt or something?” I asked, beginning to get worried.
“I
have to tell you something,” she said seriously, and at that very moment
Justin pulled on my arm.
“T
… I need you. I gotta talk to
you,” he whispered urgently. “Seriously,
call her back.”
Curious now about the way both of them were acting, I motioned for him to wait while I answered Sasha. “Go ahead … tell me. What is it?” I demanded and Justin began to look more and more frantic. I felt bad. “Wait … hold on for a second, Sash.”
“No!”
she yelled loudly. “I have to say
it now or I won’t say it at all, alright?
Don’t listen to him, don’t put me on hold!”
Justin
pulled at my arm again, no longer whispering.
What was his deal? “T, for
real! Hang up!”
Torn,
I kept watching at him while Sasha breathed hard into the phone.
Was it me or was everyone I knew behaving like a lunatic? Apparently he
needed my attention right that second and so did Sasha … but I was with Justin
twenty-four hours a day and rarely talked to Sash anymore.
He could wait a second … it’d be okay.
“Okay,
Sash, calm down,” I made my choice. Grabbing
hold of his hand again, I squeezed it reassuringly.
“Wait one second, Justin … Sash, what is it?”
I
waited and waited for her to spill this big dilemma … for someone so anxious,
she was taking forever to spit it out. “What
is it?” I repeated once again.
“Umm
… I … I talked to JC and … uh, he said I shouldn't say anything but …
umm ...”
“Would
you stop playing around? If
you’re not gonna say it, I’m getting off the phone,” I said, pissed off
now. They were crazy, competing for
attention for no reason at all.
“Okay!
I’ll say it!” she yelled so loudly that Justin heard her and he
grimaced, then totally shocked the hell out of me by reaching over and snatching
the phone away from my ear and jumping off the bed, turning his back to me.
“Have
you lost your f*cking mind?” I
jumped off right behind him and grabbed for the phone but he kept one arm behind
him, pushing me away.
Either
I was dreaming or the world was going insane, because no
he didn’t just snatch my phone
away, did he?
And
no way was he muttering into the phone, actually having a conversation with
Sasha, was he? Okay, he wasn’t
speaking nicely or anything but still, they were conversing and that wasn’t
normal. I stopped trying to get
around him when I realized there was no point – he was too tall – and stood
back and waited for him to finish threatening her or whatever he was mumbling
nastily into the phone. I heard him
say a few words, like “can’t trust you” and “f*cking mouth shut”.
And those were the nice things. After
a minute or so, he hit the off button and turned around to face me.
I
guess I don’t have to say I was ready to explode, do I?
I
opened my mouth to let the screeching begin, but he cut me off at the pass.
“We gotta talk … I’ll explain, I promise,” he held out a hand to
stop me from cursing him out. “I
... I’ll tell you what’s going on, what I think is, I mean … I’ll …
let’s just sit down, okay?” When
he was on the phone with Sasha he sounded normal – meaning evil – but now
his face was sort of pale and his voice was shaky.
I
really, really thought I was dying.
Like, for real.
With
trembling legs, I walked back over to the bed and sat down and he followed
behind me. We faced each other and
I just knew he had something horrible to tell me about my health.
Boy,
was I right but I completely had the wrong idea.
It’s sort of funny isn’t it?
Just
like Gwen Stefani and Eve said, Justin was about to blow my mind.
“T ... I think you’re pregnant.”