June 1985

“Honestly, Lynn,” said Cassidy Ayala, wiping her eyes. “That sense of humor of yours will be the death of me yet!”

Lynn Harless allowed herself a giggle. “The things I tell you girls. It’s lucky we’re such good friends.”

On the other side of her Charlotte Desrosiers smiled and tucked her long dark hair behind her ears. Abigail Bomar was chuckling and shaking her head, rocking gently in one of the four occupied rocking chairs on the large wrap-around porch of the Desrosiers house.

 She looked out across the vast lawn at her daughter and her friends playing near the garden. They were friends. Really good friends. Best friends even. There wasn’t a time Abigail saw her daughter without those three by her side, they were practically joined at the hip.

It was a typical early summer day in Memphis, Tennessee. Light, bright, and not a cloud in the sky. The kids played in the yard while their mothers sat on the porch, sipping sweet iced tea and telling stories of the past and the present in their large rocking chairs, their laughter mixing in with the light breeze that wrapped around all of them.

“Our lives wouldn’t nearly be—mettre la pierre vers le bas!” Charlotte suddenly yelled. The young dark haired girl looked across the yard at her mother. Only when she saw the hard stare in her mother’s green eyes did she sigh and put the rock she had lifted over her head down, turning to pull at a flower instead. “I was going to say our lives wouldn’t nearly be as interesting if we weren’t friends but now I think I wouldn’t have as many heart attacks,” she mumbled, rubbing her temples while the other three women laughed.

“It’s amazing how fast they’re growing up,” Cassidy commented, squeezing a lemon slice into her iced tea. “Next thing you know they’ll be in high school.”

“They’ll be going to Homecoming and Prom,” Lynn added dreamily.

“And then they’ll be married with their own children,” Abigail sighed. She brought her glass to her mouth and took a sip of the sweet and tangy drink. She lightly smacked her lips and followed her eyes to Trace who was laughing gleefully while throwing dirt at Rachel and Mack. Justin sat back and watched, laughing all the while. Rachel started screaming and shielding her face. Mack simply reached into the dirt and threw handfuls back. “I can’t wait until they get married.”

“Lynn can’t either,” Charlotte joked. “She’s already planning Justin’s wedding. Right down to the suit designer he’d use.”

“Lynn, you didn’t!” Cassidy laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What? Justin deserves it,” Lynn defended herself, taking a sip of her tea. “And he’s a boy; he won’t care what he looks like so it’s up to me to care.”

“Oh, Lynn.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought of Trace’s wedding day.”

Cassidy lifted her hand and shook her head. “Shoot, can’t think about marriage with him. Gotta worry about keeping the little ringleader’s behind outta trouble. Don’t have much time to think about anything else.” She leaned forward in her seat. “What about you, Char?”

Charlotte laughed. “Won’t be thinking about marriage in my family for a while,” she replied, her hands clasped over her stomach. “Not with my little tomboy.”

“Oh she’ll grow out of that,” Abigail said with a wave of her hand.

“Hopefully soon,” Charlotte commented, watching her daughter  shove Trace and then turn to Rachel to help brush the dirt out of her hair. “I can’t wait to see her walk down the aisle.”

“Unfortunately they have to get through life before they get there,” Lynn sighed.

“I have faith in them. They’ll get through anything that comes their way together, just you wait and see,” Cassidy said.

Mid-April, 2002

She used to hate the dark.

Actually, it wasn’t the dark itself she hated; it was what’s in the dark that scared her. She didn’t know who or what was lurking in it. She didn’t know if something was going to hurt her or help her. She didn’t know if she was alone or surrounded. It didn’t help that Justin and Trace used to lure her into the dark woods of her backyard and jump out at her, and would successfully scare her.

But right now the darkness was her friend.

It hid her puffy, stinging eyes. It hid the tears that were silently falling down her cheeks. It hid the soft whimpers she let out every now and then. It hid the heartbreak that was written all over her face. It helped that she was currently thirty-five thousand feet in the air. The darkness helped shroud her escape and didn’t leave a visible trail behind.

She wiped the tears off of her cheeks while looking down at the quickly approaching illuminated airport. The fasten seatbelts sign came on overhead as the stewardesses went around waking the other passengers, lifting up their trays and taking their pillows and blankets.

As the plane made its final descent, for a split second she wondered if she were doing the right thing. She nodded a little and convinced herself that it was. She needed some ‘me’ time and if this was the only way she’d get it, then so be it. The guys would understand.

They had to.

There was a slight bump as the wheels touched down on the ground and all of the lights came on in the cabin. She stretched her arms straight into the air, letting out a long yawn. Taking a late flight was the only way she would’ve been able to get out but right now she was kicking herself for it, especially since she couldn’t sleep the entire flight. It was a mixture between a little bit of guilt along with the endless crying baby across the aisle. Usually she loved kids but she had to resist the strong urge to give the baby a “love tap” with her shoe.

Her thin patience grew even thinner at the traffic jam to the exit of the plane. She didn’t care if a little old lady was having trouble with her bags—held, she knock over the little lady if it let her off the plane and away from the pain that was starting to eat her from the inside out.

She bit her lip hard to keep away the tears that were threatening to fall again. She willed herself not to cry anymore. She couldn’t cry anymore. She had to be strong if she wanted to get through the next couple of weeks.

Finally she was able to get off of the suffocating plane and into the brightly lit and scarcely populated airport terminal. She started to walk as quickly as possible to get to the baggage claim but then felt stupid. It wasn’t like he was chasing her. He wasn’t even here. Punching herself in the thigh she slowed to a calm walk. She was surprised she didn’t set off any security guards; by the way she was walking. She practically left skid marks on the ground in her wake.

She grabbed her rolling suitcase and made it out of the airport into the still, warm air. She glanced around to see if anyone was waiting for her before sitting down on a bench. She let out a long breath and tilted her head back, looking up at the sky.

There was no other place like Tennessee to be able to see the stars at night.

She blinked and covered her eyes when beams of bright light infiltrated her vision. A loud, mud covered, black truck pulled up and the driver’s door swung open and slammed shut as a man strode over to her. “Sorry about that,” he quickly apologized, noting her glare. “I got here as soon as I could, Momma wouldn’t let me leave. Are you ok?” He asked breathlessly, pulling her into a hug, noting how hard she was clinging to him. He held her at arm’s length and looked her over, clicking his tongue. “He really screwed up this time, didn’t he?” He asked softly.

“You even have to ask? You know him as well as I do, Trace,” she replied, sniffing as tears spilled over her bottom lids once more.

The only sound that split the otherwise silent ride was the hum of the engine. The slow rocking of the truck helped Mack realize how tired she was. It had been a long full day and she had been on her feet for most of it. She settled into the seat, leaning back as she stifled another yawn.

Trace smirked. “Past your bedtime?”

“No,” she grumbled, giving herself away. She was always really grumpy whenever she was tired. “I’m usually not tired at night. I’ve become such a night owl on tour.”

“Is that by choice?”

She scoffed. “Yeah, Trace, ‘cause I like only having four hours of sleep a night.” She yawned again and leaned over so she was resting against the door. “I bring it upon myself though, making sure the guys are where they’re supposed to be.”

“But it’s not your job.”

“It’s my job of being a friend. I can’t sleep when I don’t know where they are.” Then she immediately stopped talking and pressed her lips together. Trace glanced at her and then back at the road. Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying before. It made him want to punch the person, or people, that made her so vulnerable. It wasn’t like her to openly cry in public. She must really be hurting.

“Do the guys know you’re here?” He finally asked.

She shook her head. “I just up and left.” She let out another yawn and reached up a hand to rub her tired eyes. She noticed the look of disbelief on his face. “I left them a note,” she added, watching his face relax. “I’m not that irresponsible.”

“I never said you were.” He flicked the turning signal and pulled off the highway easily. He relaxed in his seat now that they were off of the highway and onto a smaller route. “Are they going to be mad that you left?”

“Possibly,” she replied. “Lance might understand, and maybe Joey. They’re the more rational ones. It’s Jace and Justin I’m worried about. They’ll fly off the handle, no doubt.” She pressed her lips together again and a distant look settled in her eyes. She turned her attention to look out the window, although there wasn’t much to see in the dark. Streetlamps flashed past the windows, illuminating their faces brightly seconds at a time. The moon was like a sort of nightlight, illuminating the stretch of road in front of them.

“How long do you plan on being back?” Trace questioned.

“Well, now I know I’m not welcome here,” she tried to say sarcastically but it came out slowly and void of emotion because of how tired she was.

Trace laughed. “I mean are you coming back for a small break or…?”

“Considering their tour is almost over and then they’re taking a break, I’m back for a while,” she replied. “I need a break myself. I’ll probably take off dancing for a while; God knows it’s consumed my life for the past eighteen years.”

“Something tells me your mother wouldn’t like you sitting around the house all day.”

“Oh yeah, hotshot, what do you d now that you’ve graduated?”

“I work at E. E. Jeter as maintenance for now,” Trace replied.

Mack caught the face that he made. “Not your top choice, eh?”

He shrugged. “It’s the only available thing right now. I can’t complain.” He paused. “You know, if you need a job there’s an opening at the school. A teacher’s aide, I think.”

“What grade?”

“Fourth.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Don’t you think—“

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Silence stretched between them. Trace rubbed his tired eyes and took a right into the next upcoming neighborhood. A smile worked its way on his face when he heard her mutter, “Hallelujah” when she realized that he was turning into their neighborhood. Even in the dark it felt warm, inviting, and safe. It’s the only reason why he hasn’t left and he assumed it was that very reason that Justin and Mack always came back.

Mack lifted an eyebrow as Trace pulled into his driveway and turned off the ignition. The truck shuddered to a stop. “Are you too cheap to use a little bit of your gas to take me six houses down?” She asked sarcastically.

Trace paused at her comment, his finger brushing against his keys which dangled in the ignition and then laughed. “Of all the things to miss about you, that sure ‘nough wasn’t one of ‘em,” he commented. “If I let you walk into your house at…” he paused and looked at his watch in the moonlight, “3 AM your momma would greet you at the door with a shotgun to the face.”

She slowly nodded. “Yeah, Mom’s kinda paranoid,” she agreed, sighing. She could practically see her mother rushing down the stairs, a wild and frantic look in her eyes all because she’d do anything to protect her family. It was endearing but sometimes Mack thinks she’d end up putting herself in harm’s way because of her ‘Mother Hen’ personality.

“My momma knows you’re here. She’ll call yours in the morning.”

“Ok.”

He pushed open the door and got out of the truck. He closed the door with a slight push and went to the back, tugging out her suitcase.

“I can get it, you know,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but my momma would have my hide if I wasn’t enough of a gentleman to help.” She cracked a smile and lifted her other bag out of the bed of the trunk. Together they walked down the short driveway, the only sound filling the air was the rolling wheels on her suitcase. As soon as Trace put the bag down and reached for his house keys the light on the porch turned on and the screen door was flung open.

“Darling, it’s so good to see you again!” Cassidy gushed, pulling the small girl to her and gave her a big hug. “Have they been feeding you on tour? Look at you, you’re all skin and bones,” she commented, holding the girl’s face in her hands. “I can whip you up anything you’d like.”

“Ma! It’s three in the morning. I’m sure the only thing she’d like to do right now is sleep,” Trace interrupted his mother’s excitement.

“It’s been a very long day,” Mack agreed once Cassidy let her go.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry; my excitement got the better of me. You know the neighborhood’s not the same without you two around,” Cassidy said, patting her flyaway hair down. She then ushered the two inside, closing and locking the door behind them. “Trace was positively beside himself with boredom once you two left. How long are you here for this time, dear?”

“For a while, I guess,” Mack said with a shrug. “I’m taking a much needed break for some time to myself. Figured Memphis was the best way to get it, out of the media’s eyes and all.”

“Good, good. Are you hungry? We have some food left over,” Cassidy said. Without waiting for Mack’s response she rushed into the kitchen and started pulling food items out of the ‘fridge.

“Oh, Ms. Cassidy, that’s not necessary,” Mack tried to stop her.

“Not even for a piece of pie?” She asked, pulling the dessert out of the ‘fridge.

“No, I really coul—did you say pie?” Her attention snapped as if she were a puppy. Trace chuckled and shook his head, amazed that she was still ridiculously easy to please. “What kind of pie?”

“Apple.”

“I think I can stay awake long enough for a slice.”

Her smile got so big Trace was amazed it didn’t swallow her face. “I’ll put your stuff up in the guest room,” he announced.

“You don’t want any?” She asked before shoving a forkful of apples and cinnamon crust into her mouth.

“You’d probably bite off my hand if I did.”

“Ha ha.”

Trace lifted her bag and took it up the stairs to ‘her room’. He found it funny that she always stayed in the same room whenever she stayed over, Justin was the same way. It was as if they had self-assigned rooms and didn’t like change in routines.

He dropped her bags by the bed and pulled down the covers. He paused as Mack’s and his mother’s voices seemed to float up the stairs followed by their laughter. Trace frowned. She was upset before and now she’s laughing up a storm? The other guys must be worried sick about her but she didn’t seem to care. Then Trace kicked himself. That was her, she cared about a lot of things but she didn’t let it show most of the time, he knew that. But it still didn’t sit well with him.

She’s a big girl now; she doesn’t need to run to anyone with her problems anymore, he told himself, turning on a lamp, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. A smile tugged on his lips at the memory of countless times he, Justin, his cousin Rachel, and Mack would play in the room. Making forts and playing ‘pirate’, holding ‘secret’ meetings and staying up talking about anything and everything, pretending to be asleep whenever his mother came to check on them.

Things were so simple back then. He wished life could stay that way forever.

“Whatcha doin’?” Trace turned around and Mack laughed. “Careful, don’t want you to break your neck.”

He gave a wry smile. “Right, you’d want to do that for me for all the times I’ve gotten on your nerves.”

“Would you believe me when I say I missed it? You teasing me?” She asked, poking him in the side.

“Not at all,” he deadpanned. “Considering you beat me up every time I said one little joke about your stature.”

She shrugged. “I’m sensitive about my height.”

“That’s not the only thing you’re sensitive about,” he replied, looking her in the eye.

She stiffened under his gaze. “I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

“When will you talk about it?”

“Neh-ver,” she replied with a small eye roll for effect. “‘Cause I’m done with it. I’m done with them and I’m done with dancing. I’m staying here forever. Aren’t you happy? You wanted me back so badly.”

“Not under these circumstances,” he replied. “You were bawling on the phone, I thought someone got killed. I’ve never heard you that hysterical before. And now you just up and leave in the middle of the night? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.”

“I don’t need your help. I can handle it on my own.”

He scoffed. “You’re doing a fine job of that right now.”

“You don’t understand, Trace.”

“So help me understand.”

“Trace…”  She let out an aggravated sigh. “Just…drop it, ok?

“Yeah, fine. You know where the bathroom is. Wake me if you need anything,” he grumbled in defeat. Getting anything out of her was like trying to set a mouse trap, if you force too much she’ll snap in your face and you’d have to start over.

“Hey T.” He stopped by the door and looked back at her. Her face had softened and a half smile was on her face. “Thanks.”

He nodded. “Anytime.” He pulled the door closed behind him and went down the hall to his room. Letting out a long sigh he flopped onto his bed and covered his eyes with his hands, wondering what he got himself into this time.

It broke his heart to hear her softly crying throughout the night.

Trace let out a yawn, rubbing his eyes while his truck rumbled down the street. Gravel popped under his tires as he turned into the fenced-in house. He killed the engine and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes briefly, shielding them from the bright sun. The coffee still hadn’t waked him up yet. It was mornings like this that made him wonder why he took the maintenance job but at the same time he knew it would be hard getting another one and it paid well.

He grabbed his keys and exited the truck, looking up at the Victorian style ranch house. The white paint was as bright as ever, the dark shingles on the roof held an eye-catching allure. The wraparound porch was free of any trace of dirt. The wind chimes hanging from the porch roof softly dinged as the wind lifted and pulled the chimes.

Trace took the porch steps. As he neared the screen door he could hear laughter coming from the house. He took off his hat and pumped the handle on the screen door, letting it slam behind him to signal that he was coming in.

He entered the kitchen and saw the Desrosiers family sitting at the round table near the doors that lead to the back porch, bathed in the light that came in from the doors. “Hey Trace,” Mack greeted him with a smile. He was taken aback. She was crying just the night before and now she was happy? Trace didn’t get her. Girls are strange.

“What’re you doing here so early?” Charlotte’s husband, Philippe, asked while putting down his newspaper. He had more wrinkles around his eyes than Trace remembered and his ink black hair was starting to gray near his ears.

“I told Mack how there’s a position open at the school and I wanted to know if she wanted a lift,” he replied, messing with his keys. Even in this normal morning routine Trace couldn’t help but feel nervous around the older man. He may be gentle but he could get vicious if he needed to.

“Why don’t you stay for a few minutes?” Charlotte offered with a kind smile. “I’ll make you a plate.” Before Trace could object Charlotte was up and rummaging in the cabinets for a plate. Trace sat down in the empty seat between Charlotte and Philippe and placed his hat on the table.

“Thank you, Miss Char. It’s very kind of you.”

“It’s the least I could do.” Charlotte heaped the plate with hash browns, scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and some fresh fruit. She set  the plate in front of him and poured him a tall glass of apple juice. “Think of it as a thank you for picking up my daughter in the dead of night.” She smiled at her daughter and gave her hand a squeeze. “How long are you here for?” She directed towards her daughter.

“Um, why don’t we say grace first?” Mack asked with a nervous laugh. Trace lifted his eyebrows as she turned to look at her father “Daddy.”

Hands came up to the table as they joined together. Trace bowed his head and closed his eyes, listening to Philippe’s smooth voice laced with a light Canadian accent push out the words of prayer swiftly and easily. Trace hardly heard what Philippe was saying as his thoughts spun like a whirling twirling falling from a maple tree. She was still jumpy. What could possibly have happened on that tour?

“…For it’s in his precious name we pray, amen.”

They dropped their hands and dug into breakfast.

“Now, how long are you staying?” Charlotte pressed.

Mack glanced at Trace who was intent on shoveling all of his scrambled eggs into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten before. There was no way he was going to get in the middle of that discussion. He wanted to keep his life.

“Well I—I guess I’m back for a while, being that the tour is almost over and they’re going on a break soon,” she replied, poking at her potatoes.

Charlotte paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. She slowly set it down while her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Can you afford the time away?”

“I get paid per show and they know what they’re doing.” Mack shrugged. “They don’t need me breathing down their necks.”

“What’re you going to do all summer then?” Philippe questioned.

“Hopefully nothing,” Mack replied. Philippe scoffed. “Dad, I’ve never had an actual break in my life. I’m always doing something. I just want to sit and do nothing for once in my life. Maybe ride a bit more, I haven’t see Bluebelle in a while.” She looked at Trace. “Is Cal still taking care of her?”

Trace swallowed and nodded. “He’s keeping them all in top shape. There’s a competition coming up in two weeks.”

Charlotte’s eyes lit up. “A competition?” She repeated and turned to her daughter. “Oh, sweetie, you haven’t been in a competition in a while.”

“There’s a reason for that, Mom. I haven’t been on a horse in a while,” Mack pointed out, waving her fork around.

“I think you should enter.”

“I think so too,” Trace agreed.

Mack rolled her eyes. “Don’t encourage her.”

Trace shrugged. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you for breakfast, Miss Charlotte,” Trace said as he stood and picked up his plate. He followed Mack to the sink and put the plate in it and then followed her out the front door. He got to his truck before she did and hastily gathered up the trash that was sitting in the passenger seat and tossed it into the back. “What?” he asked when he noticed the disapproving look on her face.

“Men and their cars,” she muttered and pulled the door shut behind her. “Geeze, it’s as messy as your room in here.”

“Don’t start with me,” Trace said as he put the truck in reverse and pressed his foot down on the gas pedal. Mack lurched forward as the truck backed out at high speed. He then shifted the car into drive and shot down the street. “Oh, let go of the door. I’m not going to kill you.”

“You say that now and the next thing you know they’ll be trying to identify our bodies which have been pulverized into the pavement,” she bit back, her knuckles turning white on the car door handle. Her whole body had tensed up. Trace was afraid she’d end up pulling something from that position.

Trace fought the urge to roll his eyes. She knew he was a good driver so why was she freaking out? He’s never gotten into a crash before, he may speed but he was always alert. Trace shook his head and let out a sigh. She’s been in Orlando for too long. “You’re such a city girl.” She hit his arm so hard that his elbow buckled and he almost drove off the road. He quickly corrected the steering wheel an moved the truck back onto the road. “Girl, are you crazy!? You could’ve killed us.”

“I’m going to kill you in a second if you don’t take that back,” she threatened. “I am not a city girl!”

Trace scoffed. “Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.” Her eyes flashed in anger and he swore she was about to hit him again.

“Before you left you didn’t mind how fast we’d drive down the street. Hell, you’d be egging us on to go faster and now you’re acting like a wimp,” Trace replied, taking a turn so sharply she hit the door. He grinned at the things she was grumbling under her breath while she rubbed her head. “You’ve been away from home for too long, being back will do you some good. Maybe it’ll knock some sense into you.”

“I’m home what more could you want?” She asked.

“I want you to tell me why you’re here,” he replied looking at her and then looking back at the road. “Not that I’m not happy,” he quickly added at the look in her eyes. “But something had to have happened or it bothered you enough for you to pack up and leave without telling them.”

“I left a note, it’s not like I disappeared.”

“Oh, that’s just so much better,” Trace said sarcastically as he tore into the parking lot of the school and then killed the engine. “Look, I’ll be painting in the gym if you need anything, OK? We  can meet up for lunch or something.”

“Sounds good. Where do you usually go?”

“I usually swing by Rachel’s and then we go to Sammy’s if that’s fine.”

“No, that’s good. I haven’t been there in the longest time.”

“Gee, I wonder why.” Trace blocked her fist that time and laughed at the look on her face. “Go or you’ll be late.”

Trace lifted his hat and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. He didn’t remember the gym being so hot when he attended the school. All of the doors were open and fans were positioned at some doors to blow in cool air but all it did was blow around the paint fumes. He started to feel sick.

He closed the lid of the paint bucket and sat down after making sure no paint was on the lid. He only had a small section of the wall finished. His mind was too jumbled to concentrate on the easy methodic paint strokes.

“Hey man, I’m not going to do all the work,” his friend Brett said while lowering his paintbrush.

“Just takin’ a little break,” Trace grumbled, holding his head in his hands. His head was starting to pound from the paint fumes. He jumped when his phone started ringing. Hastily he pulled out the phone and checked the ID before answering. “Hey Justin,” he greeted his friend slowly.

“She’s gone!” Justin practically yelled into the phone.

Trace pulled his phone away from his ear and blinked rapidly. He could practically hear a ringing in it. “Calm down, J. What’re you freaking out about?”

“She’s gone, Trace,” Justin replied, breathlessly. “Mack’s gone. She left a note about saying she needed to leave or something. We tried calling her phone but she’s not picking up. Is she with you?”

“Uhhh…” Trace hesitated. He knew he had to tell his friend where she was, considering how much he was freaking out. But at the same time Mack didn’t seem like she wanted to be found but there were only a few places she could be and Tennessee was the best bet.

“Trace, come on. You know something, right? Is she safe?”

“Uh, yeah, man. She’s safe. She’s back here in Tennessee, actually,” Trace said slowly.

Justin let out a huge sigh of relief, “Oh thank God.” Then he sounded pissed. “Is she crazy!? We’ve been running all over this damn hotel trying to find her! Why’d she go back?”

“I don’t know, she hasn’t said anything to me,” Trace replied. “What’d the note say?”

“Just some bullshit about her having to go home. Is anyone sick? Dead? Dying?”

“No, everyone’s fine as far as I know.”

“Good. Is she there? Can I talk to her?”

Trace bit his thumbnail. “Uh, no she’s busy doing something.”

“Well, I’m going to fly out and get her.”

“Are you crazy? You have a tour and four other guys to worry about, J, she’s fine here,” Trace told him. Justin started to say something but Trace interrupted him. “Look, something obviously upset her. I mean, she was crying about something but she didn’t say what. I know you all are worried but she wouldn’t want to be the reason you guys cancel shows just to come get her. I mean, you don’t really need her at the end, right?”

“…right,” Justin grumbled.

“So, you guys can do your shows while I keep an eye on her. You have a show here soon, right? By the time you get here I’ll try and get everything I can out of her and then you all can talk and work things out. Something upset her out there and if one of you guys tried to force her back she’d dig her heels into the ground.”

“You have a point,” Justin sighed. Trace frowned. Justin sounded really tired, more tired than he’s ever heard him before. They must’ve been up all night going out of their mind with worry. Trace’s blood started to boil. She’s done some stupid things but this by far takes the cake. “Just…call me back with updates, ok?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, T. Look, I have to go—radio interview. Call you later.”

“Alright, bye man.”

“Later.”

Trace hung up his phone and let out a groan as he got back to his feed. Brett lowered his headphones and looked at Trace. “Everything ok, man?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Trace replied, picking up his paintbrush and dipping it in the white paint. I just have a headache the size of Texas.

“Who’s that pretty young thing?” Brett asked.

Trace looked at him and noticed that his friend was looking down the gym. Trace turned his head to see what Brett was looking at and almost burst out laughing when he noticed that he was referring to Mack who had walked into the gym, reading a magazine, and sat by the door. “You don’t remember her?” Trace asked with a chuckle.

Brett shook his head. “Should I?”

“Yeah, you only tormented her for five years,” Trace replied. Brett gave him a blank look. “That’s Mack. You know—“

A light bulb went off in Brett’s head and his eyes widened. “Tiny Mackie?” Trace nodded. A smile stretched on Brett’s face. “She aint so Tiny anymore. She got a boyfriend?”

Trace tensed. “What happened to Bridgette?”

“Got bored,” Brett said with a wave of his hand. So what’s the story? Why’s she back here?”

“She…er…she’s taking a break from dancing. Wanted to find a job here,” Trace replied, hearing the wooden handle of the paintbrush let out little crackles in his fist. “I think she’s just here for the summer.”

Brett licked his lips. “Wouldn’t mind a summer romance.”

Trace frowned at his friend but it was lost on Brett who was still looking in Mack’s direction. He wanted to knock Brett out. How dare he talk about his friend like that, let alone her. Short-term flings were Brett’s forte, he was kinda famous for it but girls always fell for him. Trace liked the guy enough but he didn’t know the word commitment when it came to girls.

“Unless you’re interested.” Trace blinked and looked over at Brett who was now looking back at him. “I mean, if you’re interested that’s cool. A guy can only go for so long without female companionship, ya know?”

Trace’s stomach turned at the thought, but not in the way he expected as he glanced over at Mack. The two watched as she tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear and flipped a page in the magazine. Trace shook his head and looked back at Brett. “Not interested,” he said finally.

“It’s been years since Sam.”

“It’s only been two,” Trace corrected him. “And I have a job to worry about.”

“Then you don’t mind if I…?” Brett’s voice trailed off and he lifted his eyebrows.

Trace struggled to come up with an excuse but nothing came to mind. “Go ahead,” Trace replied with a shrug, slapping more paint against the wall. A sinister smile formed on his face as Brett dropped his paintbrush and wiped his hands on his jeans. Mack was extremely picky, he knew. There was no way he’d give Dylan a chance, even without their history. But, Brett was used to getting the attention of every filly in a fifty-mile radius…. Trace kicked himself as he watched Brett saunter over to his friend.

Trace pretended to add more paint to the wall as he watched Brett approach her out of his peripheral vision. Brett stood over her, watching intently as she looked up at him. He searched her face for clues as to what they were saying but he was too far away to be able to tell. That and she was an expert at hiding her emotions by now.

Trace turned back to his paint bucket and took his time getting more paint on his brush before turning back to the wall. After a few strokes of the paintbrush Brett walked back over to him. He told himself that he didn’t care if the two had gotten along, didn’t care if they had a date, and didn’t care if she had fallen for his charms.

Brett picked up his abandoned paintbrush and muttered, “Must be losing my touch.”

Trace smothered the grin that begged for release.

In one instant Justin’s world had crashed down all around him. One moment he was on top of the world and the next he was at rock bottom. He ignored the news speculation over his relationship with Britney for months. They were paparazzi, what did they know? Justin was in the relationship with her, not them. They could make up stories all they wanted and they wouldn’t be true.

But it did bug him to see their faces plastered on the cover of every magazine in the US. He knew it was a gamble he was taking with her once they came out with their relationship, but he didn’t want to keep it private. He wanted the world to know he was dating the most wonderful girl in the world; he wanted everyone to know about the special girl who captured his heart. Part of him wanted to brag too, that he was the lucky guy she chose to be with.

But that was the curse he decided to deal with and it ended up biting him in the butt.

Justin didn’t know how long it was exactly that he had been staring up at the ceiling but time had flew judging by the red numbers on the clock. Thankfully they didn’t have a show that day. His heart wasn’t in it and he knew his fans would be able to tell that something was wrong. Hell, he wouldn’t put it past his fans to know what had happened already. He couldn’t give them 50%, he owed them 100% but he didn’t feel like he could give it at that moment.

He sat up and ran his hands over his head, letting out a sigh. He needed to talk to someone or else he’d explode, but he couldn’t talk to the guys. They’ve been giving him looks of pity since they found out and he hated them. The looks made him feel worse about the whole situation. The last thing he needed was to be told “everything would be alright, you’ll see”.

Rolling his eyes at the thought, Justin got off his bed and knocked on the door that connected his room to the one next to it. “Hey Mack, can we talk?” He called through the door. He rested his forehead against it and listened. He frowned when he didn’t hear a noise and knocked again. “Mack?” He twisted the knob and lifted his eyebrows when it opened. He stepped inside the room, surprised to see how clean it was. So clean that it was as if no one had been in the room.

Justin had moved to go back to his room when something caught his eye. Or when something didn’t catch his eye, rather. There weren’t any bags on the floor and a quick check in the bathroom came up empty.

He dove for the phone and quickly dialed JC’s room number. His pulse quickened and he could feel adrenaline running though his body. What if something happened to her? What if she was hurt?

“What?” JC asked as soon as he picked up.

“C, she’s gone,” Justin panted.

“Wait, what? Justin, why’re you using Mack’s phone.

“She’s gone, C, gone,” he repeated.

“What do you mean gone? Justin, calm down and tell it to me straight.”

“She’s not here. Her stuff’s gone, the room’s totally empty,” Justin managed to get out as he sat down on the bed. His fingers curled in with the spiral of the phone cord as he listened to JC’s breathing on the other end.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” Justin all but barked at JC. “I think I know when my friends is missing and she’s gone!”

“Calm down, she must still be in the hotel somewhere. Maybe she switched rooms. I’ll check with security, try her phone, while the others look for her. You stay there in case she comes back. OK?” JC said, instantly jumping into action. Justin couldn’t find the words to respond. “J, stay with me here. I need you to relax.”

“I’m relaxed, I’m fine,” Justin mumbled.

“OK, now stay there. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“I’ll check back in with you in a bit, bud. Don’t freak out.”

The dial tone buzz filled Justin’s ear and he set the phone back down. His fingers drummed against his knees. He got up and started pacing rapidly. JC should’ve known not to ask Justin to stay put. Justin’s never been able to sit down and relax on his days off, he always has to do something.

He suddenly stopped in the middle of the room. Did he just see…? He turned his head and saw a lone piece of paper sitting on the pillow. Diving forward, he snatched for the paper, almost bashing his head against the bed’s headboard. His eyes skimmed over the few words that detailed her departure and crumpled it up in his fist.

Where could she have gone? Just whipped out his cell phone, trying to think of who to call first. He tried her parents’ house but no one answered, nor at his place, so he decided to call Trace. He forced a couple of deep breaths as he waited for Trace to pick up.

“Hey Justin,” Trace said, finally picking up the phone..

“She’s gone!” Justin blurted out.

 “Calm down, J. What’re you freaking out about?” Trace asked. Justin could practically see the confusion etched on his friend’s face.

“She’s gone, Trace,” Justin replied, breathlessly. “Mack’s gone. She left a note about saying she needed to leave or something. We tried calling her phone but she’s not picking up. Is she with you?”

“Uhhh…”

Justin’s ears started to ring. He knew right away that he was hiding something. “Trace, come on. You know something, right? Is she safe?”

“Uh, yeah, man. She’s safe. She’s back here in Tennessee, actually,” Trace said slowly.

Justin let out a huge sigh of relief, “Oh thank God.” The relief was quickly replaced by anger. “Is she crazy!? We’ve been running all over this damn hotel trying to find her! Why’d she go back?”

“I don’t know, she hasn’t said anything to me,” Trace replied. “What’d the note say?”

“Just some bullshit about her having to go home.” Justin’s eyes widened. “Is anyone sick?” He asked desperately. “Dead? Dying?”

“No, everyone’s fine as far as I know.”

“Good,” Justin sighed and sat back down. He twisted his mouth to the side and ran a hand over his short hair. “Is she there? Can I talk to her?” He asked.

It took a second before Trace replied. “Uh, no she’s busy doing something.”

Justin rolled his eyes. Trace sucked at lying and Justin had enough of it. “Well, I’m going to fly out and get her,” he decided, jumping up.

“Are you crazy?” Trace yelled through the line so loud that Justin had to jerk the phone away from his ear. “You have a tour and four other guys to worry about, J, she’s fine here,” Trace told him.

“But she’s not fine there because she’s not with me,” Justin wanted to say but Trace cut him off.

“Look, something obviously upset her. I mean, she was crying about something but she didn’t say what. I know you all are worried but she wouldn’t want to be the reason you guys cancel shows just to come get her. I mean, you don’t really need her at the end of a tour, right?”

“…right,” Justin grumbled. He hated it when Trace was right.

“So, you guys can do your shows while I keep an eye on her. You have a show here soon, right? By the time you get here I’ll try and get everything I can out of her and then you all can talk and work things out. Something upset her out there and if one of you guys tried to force her back she’d dig her heels into the ground.”

“You have a point,” Justin sighed. “Just…call me back with updates, ok?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, T. Look, I have to go—radio interview. Call you later.”

“Alright, bye man.”

“Later.”

Justin hung up the phone and collapsed on the bed, suddenly drained. He didn’t know why that lie came out, they didn’t have anything to do the rest of the night. Deep down he knew that it was better that Trace think that he actually had something to do instead of sit around the rest of the night wondering why he drove away girls that he cared about.

The small bell above the door moved as the door was pushed open, letting out a sharp ding-a-ling that caused some of the customers to look up from their meals to see who the new customers were. After taking a look for a couple of seconds the other customers went back to their meals and intense conversations. All except for one customer. A loud squeal emitted from the back corner of the diner and a dark haired woman rushed over to the two.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me she was home earlier!” Rachel scolded Trace while slapping him on the arm.

“Shoot the messenger,” he said with an eye roll while adjusting the trucker hat he was wearing. He followed the two girls to a table in the back and lifted his eyebrows when he saw another person at the table. “Cal, what’s up, man?” He asked, exchanging a handshake with the man who stood at their arrival. “How’re the horses and everything?”

“Strong and sturdy like usual,” Cal replied with a nod. “They’ll be contenders in the competition that’s coming up,” he added as they sat down and looked over the menu. “Whoever rides one of them will surely place in the top three.” He looked over at Mack who was flicking at a packed of sugar. “Since you’re back, are you thinking of entering the competition?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t know for sure yet, maybe not. I do miss riding though, but I don’t really miss the competition.”

“Why are you back?” Rachel asked, lowering her menu. “Not that I’m not happy that you’re back,” she quickly added at the offended look on her friend’s face. “But…why are you here? I just talked to Justin and their tour isn’t over yet.”

Trace leaned back in his seat. He pulled his hat off of his head and ran his fingers through his dark hair, waiting for her response. He’s been holding himself back all day from jumping down her throat and demanding an answer. He knew it wouldn’t work. She’d bring up her wall and dance around the subject until it was changed.

“I decided to start my break early,” Mack replied slowly, turning to look out the window.

“Really? That’s not what Trace told me,” Rachel commented. Trace stiffened in his seat and he shot Rachel a look to try and get her to stop talking. Like usual, it fell flat. “He said he had to pick you up from the airport and you were crying and upset about something.”

“I’m…going to look at the jukebox machine,” Cal said as he slid out of the booth, a desperate attempt to get away from the awkward situation. The workers behind the counter seemed to know not to bother the table because they visited the others and avoided theirs.

“Justin called,” Trace spoke up when Mack didn’t say a word. She whipped her head around so fast he was surprised he hadn’t heard her bones crack. “He was worried about you—they all are. He said that they searched the hotel for you when he found your note. He wanted to know why you left, especially without saying anything.”

“What’d you tell him?” She demanded.

“The only thing I could, that you haven’t told us anything. Considering what you put them, and us, through you owe us an answer,” Trace replied firmly. “Have you even told your parents why you’re back?”

“What’s it matter?” Mack demanded.

“What matters is that you ran away from the guys. You’re keeping secrets, you’ve given up dancing, and now you won’t even ride your own horse, whom you love dearly,” Rachel replied, listing off on her fingers. “So something must’ve happened. We have ways of making you talk so you might as well give up the goods willingly.”

“Fine,” Mack snarled through clenched teeth. “You want to know so badly?  Fine. I left because Justin blamed me for his breakup with Britney.”

“Wait, they broke up?” Rachel asked. Trace looked at her as if she had completely missed the point. She took one look at the expression on his face. “I mean, he’s blaming you? Why?” She asked as innocently as possible.

“Geeze, you really are related to him,” Trace mumbled.

“I kinda…sorta…in a way had a thing for their other choreographer,” Mack started.

“Wait, you liked Wade?” Rachel burst out.

“Rach,” Trace grumbled, rubbing his temples.

She ignored him. “Babyface Robson? You had a crush on him!? Oh come on, Mack, you could do so much better than that elf-eared Aussie.”

“Rach,” Trace said a bit louder.

“I mean, I thought your sights were higher than that. Well, he’s a dancer too so you have something in common, but him. Really?”

“Rach,” Trace hissed. “Zip it.”

“Sorr-ree,” She slouched in her seat and started picking at her nails. “So you got into a fight, huh?”

“Well, apparently Wade had this thing for Britney since they worked together a lot. He talked to me about it, asking for advice and shit so I said to go for it and what did he have to lose?” Mack replied.

“You told him to—” Rachel jumped in.

“Rachel!” Trace sighed in exasperation. Rachel slumped in her seat again. Trace rolled his eyes. “You told him to go after Justin’s girlfriend?” Trace demanded, not believing any words that had just come out of her mouth. She had to be batshit crazy to interfere in someone else’s relationship like that.

“I didn’t know he was talking about Britney!” Mack cried out, throwing her arms up into the air. She accidentally hit the man behind him and knocked off his hat. She turned around when she noticed him glaring at her. “Don’t look at me like that. I did you a favor, sir, that hat was ugly.” The man’s face turned red as he sputtered in shock and turned back around. “What?” She asked when she noticed the incredulous look Trace was giving her. “I said ‘sir’.”

“Oh my gravy,” he muttered. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Rachel made a snorting sound at his choice of words and forced the corners of her mouth down when he glared at her. “OK, so you told him to go after her…and then what?”

“Apparently Justin found a mash letter in her room—“

“Hey, I remember that game!” Rachel said happily, leaning forward in her seat. “We used to play it all the time. Remember? We always played it to see if you’d get paired up with—“

Mack held up her hand and slowly closed her fingers so the tips were touching her thumb, imitating a closing mouth. Rachel obediently pressed her lips together. Geeze, I don’t remember her being this crazy, Mack thought, letting out a breath. “Anyway, he blew up at her, they broke up, Wade said something about me telling him to pursue her, he got mad at me, said some choice words, and now I’m here. Ya happy now?” Her fingers were tapping rapidly on the table.

“Is everything OK? I feel like a weirdo standing b that jukebox machine. I mean, you can only read the playlist so many times,” Cal said as he sat back down at the booth. He draped his arm on the back of the booth and Rachel slid closer to him. He smiled and kissed the side of her head. He then flagged down the waitress and they got their orders taken.

“So…what’re you doing while you’re home?” Rachel asked, breaking the silence that fell over the table.

“I took a job as a teaching assistant at E. E. Jeter Elementary. Otherwise, nothing,” Mack replied. “First time in my life I can actually relax and not have worry about doing laundry or fixing a schedule or changing a channel ‘cause they can’t find the dang remote.”

“Oh! You can work at the barn with Cal,” Rachel said excitedly. “He’s always been saying he needs an extra hand around the place and you already know all of the horses so you don’t have to worry about getting kicked in the face and breaking your nose.”

“I’d have to take it up with my boss but I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” Cal said with a shrug and a wink in Mack’s direction. Their food arrived and they ate the meal in silence, otherwise talking about the town events that were coming up soon. Trace remained silent, picking at his food and constantly adjusting his hat. By the time the check came Trace burst out of his seat and strode towards his truck.

“Justin’s in for it,” Rachel sighed, standing as well and lifting her purse over her shoulder. “Hey, come over for dinner, OK? We have a lot to catch up on.”

“And by that you mean you want someone else to brag to about Cal,” Mack said as the two walked towards the front of the diner. “He’s nice. A little on the creepy, serial killer nice side, but nice. What’s the catch with him?”

“He smells like manure all day?” Rachel offered. Mack rolled her eyes and Rachel laughed. “You better get going before Trace leaves without you.” She nodded out the window where Trace was pacing by his truck before jumping into the driver’s seat. “We’ll talk later, especially about Brett asking you out.”

Mack’s mouth fell open. “How’d you know about that already?”

“Word spreads fast around here, remember? Geeze, you have been away for too long. But don’t worry; I’ll catch you up on everything that’s happened. We’ll have a girls’ night.”

“Yipee,” Mack said while giving two thumbs-up signs.

“You ready to leave, Darlin’?” Cal asked, walking over to the girls. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Grandpa Fletcher about the job but I’m sure it’s as good as yours.” He lightly tapped the brim of his cowboy hat before placing a hand on the small of Rachel’s back and led her away.

Mack turned on her heel and walked to Trace’s black truck. She rested her arms on the windowsill of the passenger side and peered in at Trace who was clutching the steering wheel in what seemed to be a death grip. “Pretending the wheel is Justin’s neck?” She guessed.

“You’re not funny,” Trace replied, relaxing and dropping his hands.

“Has anyone ever told you not to stew in anger?”

“You should take your own advice.”

“Now who’s not the funny one?”

“Just get in.” Trace leaned over the seat and pumped the door handle, successfully pushing the door open.

“I could’ve gotten it myself,” Mack commented, lifting herself into the seat and closing the door behind her.

“You could thank me,” he replied, buckling himself. “I just proved chivalry’s not dead.” He jerked the key in the ignition. The truck instantly roared into life and he backed out of the space. “Don’t make any comments on my driving, City Girl,” Trace warned her.

“Stop calling me that!” Mack groaned in frustration. “I’m not a city girl!”

“No, but you’re ridiculously passive,” he replied, jerking the steering wheel and taking a turn sharply.

“Let me deal with J, Trace.”

“You don’t deal; you let him run all over you like a steam roller. You ran away because of him for crying out loud!”

“Let me deal with it!”

Trace sighed. “Fine, do whatever you want I don’t care.”

“Yes you do, or else you wouldn’t always be on my case about it,” Mack grumbled. “Unless you’re annoyed because Brett asked me out.”

Trace scoffed. “What does he have anything to do with this?”

“I’m just saying you weren’t this uptight before we went to the school,” she replied in a sing-song voice.

Trace slammed on his breaks and stopped right before the light turned red. “What’re you implying?” He asked, lifting his eyebrows.

She held up her hands. “I’m just having a conversation. You’re the one getting suspicious and jumping down my throat. So, tell me Juan, why are you so moody today?”

“Were you always this annoying?” He groaned.

“It grows with age,” she replied. She then grinned and patted his arm. “Just wait until we’re eighty,” she said enthusiastically.

“I might be dead before then.”

“With your driving, that’s a safe bet.”

“Chew and swallow, Trace,” his mother, Cassidy, laughed as he put down his fork. Still chewing he stood and gathered his silverware, plate, and cup. Balancing them in his hands he walked over to the sink and put his dishes in it. He filled it with water and let it rise for a few minutes before shutting it off. “Where are you off to in a rush?” She asked, leaning back in her seat, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

Trace swallowed and grabbed his keys. “I’m going to meet Cal at the barn. He said he wants to talk to me about something and I want to check on Rebel Wind.” The look she was giving him made him uneasy. His eyes shifted down to his shoes and he dropped, as if noticing his laces were untied. He subtly tugged at the string. The knot collapsed and he worked to get it tied again.

“Justin called,” Cassidy announced. Trace looked up from where he was trying his shoes. His fingers fumbled but he quickly got back on track. “He said he’ll call you back later. He sounded off. Is everything all right with him?” Her eyes seemed to be probing his head.

Trace took his time, tying the knot in his shoe laces and then lowering his pant leg. He wanted to tell his mother the truth but the truth felt false, even to him. Never in his life has “Things are getting tough,” he replied, messing with his keys. “With their tour almost ending, Justin’s thinking about putting out his own record. A solo one.”

Cassidy’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s great! Justin’s very talented. I knew it’d happen eventually. But how is that making things tougher? The others are his biggest supporters, I’m sure.”

Trace nodded. “You know Justin, hard to read sometimes. If he calls again tell him I’ll be back around nine, OK?” He grabbed his hat off of the island and shoved it down on his head. “When’s Dad coming home from his hunting trip?” He asked while looking at the screen on his phone.

“He should be back by Thursday, Friday at the latest if he gets held up for any reason,” Cassidy replied, standing and gathering up her dishes. “Don’t stay out too late, Trace.”

Trace rolled his eyes. “Mom, I’m twenty-one. I think I can manage to go to the barn and back without you holding my hand.” She placed a hand on her hip and gave him a steely gaze. He flinched underneath her stare. He may be older but he was still afraid of her, “OK, OK, sorry,” he muttered, lifting his hands and rushing to the front door.

Trace stepped out onto the porch and let the screen door close behind him. He looked up at the ink black sky which was littered with shiny white stars and a bright full moon. Despite it being close to summer the nights were still on the cool side. He took in a deep breath, drawing in the fragrance of fresh grass and the loamy smell of dirt.

He climbed into his truck and took in a deep breath of the faint leathery smell. He stopped with his fingers gripping his keys at the random flowery scent that floated past his nostrils. It blindsided him. It was the faint scent of Rachel’s shampoo but it still made his heart hurt. Sam used the same kind…

He shook his head and forced those thoughts out and back into oblivion where they belonged. He turned on the car and carefully backed out of the driveway, making sure to miss the mailbox he’s hit one too many times in the past.

The closer he got to the barn the stronger the smell of horses, pigs, and hay seemed to get. For most it would push people away but he loved the smell. It brought him alive and was a safe haven, of sorts. A paradise away from home. The barn was the main reason he liked living in the Shelby Forrest community. It was small but it was like living in two different places at once. He could go in one direction and be in a vast open field with horses and other farm animals. He could go in the other and be in the city, surrounded by people, noise, and technology. It was like the best of both worlds.

Trace turned into the long driveway that led up to the large barn and stables of the Fletcher farm. He killed the engine and left his truck. The gravel crunched beneath his feet as he walked towards the bright light that was coming from the barn as well as soft murmuring.

“Hey Cal,” Trace greeted him with a small wave. Cal looked up and touched the brim of his cowboy hat in greeting before looking back down at the sleeping calf.

“Howdy Trace, glad you could make it,” Cal said as he gently rubbed his hand over the calf’s head.

“Mom was king of making it hard to come out. You know how mom’s are,” Trace said, looking down at the sleeping animal. “Everything alright?” Trace kneeled and ran his hand over the side of the calf, careful not to wake it. The fur was smooth under his touch.

“He’s sick,” Cal sighed. “Either stress or allergic to a vaccine. Hard to tell.” He tugged his hat off of his head and brushed the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, moving the dark, wavy curls off of his forehead.

“Will he be OK?”

“Probably not.”

Trace’s heart dropped. Poor little guy. He looked up and saw the mama cow watching them, as if she knew what was wrong. Trace sighed and got to his feet, kicking his shoes at the dirt on the ground. Cal gave the calf one more scratch on the head before standing and letting out a long sigh. “It’s the only part about this life I can’t get used to,” he mused, turning away from the calf. “You came to see Rebel Wind too, I assume. This way.”

Even though he knew where he was going Trace let Cal lead him to the stables where the horses were kept. The smell of fresh hay and horse poo made Trace cringe but after a few minutes he got used to it. Cal stopped by the horse box where a white and brown colored horse stuck its face out into the air.

Trace smiled and walked towards his friend, rubbing its velvety soft nose. “Hey buddy, how are ya?” Trace whispered. Rebel Wind gave a soft neigh in response and pressed his nose into Trace’s palm. “You’ve done a great job, Cal. His hair is knot free.”

“Getting him to sit still was the hard part,” Cal said with a sort of sheepish smile. “I just love the horses. Mixer’s had an upset stomach for the past couple of days so we had to change her diet and Starbolt’s going to have a little one soon.”

“Really?” Trace lifted his eyebrows. “Who’s the lucky father?”

“Artemis,” Cal drawled with a large smile. “Yeap, it was like love at first sight for those two when we brought Artemis in. Starbolt wouldn’t eat unless Artemis was by her side. For a while Grandpa and I were worried that she’d lose weight until we figured it out.”

“Good thing you did.” Trace kissed the tip of Rebel Wind’s nose and turned to Cal. “But they’re not the reason you wanted to talk, right?” Cal shook his head and pulled something out of his pocket. He stuck a toothpick between his lips and bit down on it, shaking his head. “What’s up, dude?”

“I wanted to talk about Rachel,” Cal replied.

“Ok. What about her?”

Cal took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. Trace lifted his eyebrows at his nervous antics. Cal was someone who carried himself well around the town, the man who seemed to ooze eternal confidence was nervous. Trace wanted to laugh out loud but he kept his mouth shut. If only Justin were there with him. They liked Cal but for a while Trace didn’t believe he was human because he seemed to perfect.

“I guess I want to know how close you two are.”

“I’m not into her if that’s what you think,” Trace said. Then he laughed at the idea. Him dating Rachel? They were friends but…she seemed borderline crazy. As long as he could remember she was way too emotional and borderline boy crazy, not to mention she stuck her nose into people’s business so it was news to him when those two started dating. But Cal’s calm demeanor did seem to balance out her crazy and wild one. “We’re friends…I guess,” he added as an afterthought. “Yeah, we’re friends. I mean, we’re not like Frick and Frack but we’re kinda close. Why?”

Cal cleared his throat and switched the toothpick in his mouth to the other side. “I know I should be asking Justin this, considering he’s her cousin, but you’re here and I guess I want your permission.”

Trace blinked. Now he thought Cal must be crazy for needing his permission to do something. Did he need Trace’s permission to cross the street now? “Permission for what?” He asked slowly.

Cal placed his hat back on his head. “Permission to marry her.”

“A-are you sure you want to do that?” Trace asked. “I mean…this is Rachel we’re talking about.”

“I know who we’re talking about,” Cal said with a laugh. “I…I love her, man. I mean, we’ve been dating for five years now. I figure it’s about time, ya know?”

“Don’t…don’t you want to ask her father for permission?” Trace asked. He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea.

“I already have, but I wanted her friends’ blessings as well,” Cal replied. “I wanted to wait for Justin to get back before asking him and I haven’t had a chance to talk to Mack yet.” He then gave Trace a pointed look and lifted his eyebrows.

Trace tried to find words to say while the buzzing in his ears got louder. He barely even heard his own response but it sounded something like, “Um, yeah, sure. Do what you want, it’s your life. Go and be happy.”

Cal’s shoulders dropped and he let out a sigh. “Thanks man, I really appreciate it.”

Trace shrugged. “Sure, no problem.” He shook his head as the images started to creep in. he could feel the pain in his heat leak out of the cracks of the wall that had once stood strong and surrounded his heart.

“I don’t want to feel like I dragged you all the way out here. You can ride Rebel Wind if you want. Usually Grandpa doesn’t let us ride after dark but in this case I can make an exception and take the heat,” Cal offered, reaching for the latch on the horse’s box. He stomped his hooves on the ground in excitement.

“Uh, no!” Trace stopped him. “That’s ok, I should get back before my mom starts to worry. Thanks though.”

“Thank you, Trace,” Cal replied. “I was thinking, maybe we could go fishing sometime? Or hunting? Rachel says your dad likes to hunt and I figured we could use the time to get to know each other better.”

“Rachel put you up to this, right?” Trace asked.

“Yeah. I love her but she’s kinda…”

“Scary?” Cal nodded and Trace chuckled. “Let me tell you, Rachel can get pretty difficult at times. She takes a life-is-fun sort of approach but she can be fierce when she needs to be.”

“Any other warnings I need to know about?” Cal asked.

“Save that for the fishing trip. We can go whenever Justin gets back. He has tons of stories on her.”

“Not all bad, I hope.”

“Oh, but the best ones are the ones when she’s humiliated.”

Cal laughed. He took out his toothpick and snapped it in half with his fingers. “Fishing should be interesting.”

“Should be.”

“I should let you go. I still have to check on the other calves to make sure they’re not sick as well,” Cal said as he backed away. “Thanks for the talk.”

“No problem,” Trace said and also backed away, moving in the direction of his truck.

“Take care now.”

“You too. See ya,”

Trace did his best to hold his emotions off but as soon as the door closed everything came rushing at him all at once. The anger, pain, confusion, and betrayal were in the forefront.

All because Cal was planning on proposing to Rachel.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for her, he was. He just didn’t find it fair that someone else could find happiness in a world that ended for him two years ago.

Lynn lifted the handle of the faucet. Water came rushing out with a spurt and filled the sink. She turned it off and started scrubbing the dirty pan that now held leftover cookie residue. The cookies weren’t only for Rachel for her next day of work but it was also a warm up for when Justin and his friends came by Memphis for a stop on their tour.

A smile formed on her face at the thought of her son returning home once again. Her parents were as excited as she was, if not more. They loved to spoil him, and she did as well. He was her only child after all, her pride and joy.

She looked out into the large backyard as she scrubbed at the dirty dishes. It felt like it was only yesterday Justin and Trace were playing army in the backyard, taking turns while pretending to be generals, sergeants, and casualties. She remembered them playing “camping” with the family’s tent in the backyard and their many fishing trips where they’d come back from the lake. Bright smiles were hidden underneath their masks of mud and the lingering smell of fish. They were happy and having the time of their lives, until they had to get into the bath afterwards.

Lynn was skeptical about their friendship as they got older and *NSYNC exploded but the boys proved her wrong. They stuck with each other through the good and the bad and their friendship was stronger now than it ever had been before.

She couldn’t wait for Justin to get home, for her house to be filled with excited talking and catching up with each other on stories of their lives. Justin hadn’t been home in weeks since the tour started and their reunion was long overdue. She especially wanted to make sure he was ok. He seemed distant and maybe a little sad the last she spoke with him on the phone and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“Lynn, are you here?” Her sister-in-law, Abigail, called over the sound of the front door opening.

“I’m in the kitchen!” Lynn called back. She abandoned washing the dishes and grabbed a cloth to dry her hands.

“Of course, your practically live in here,” Charlotte chuckled as she walked into the kitchen, Abigail and Cassidy at her heels. “You don’t have to clean to impress us, Lynn,” she added as Lynn reached into a cupboard and pulled out four glasses.

“Call me excited. I’m just getting everything ready for when Justin comes home,” Lynn replied with a smile. “Here, take these out to the back patio. I’ll be there in a few minutes; I just need to get the tea ready.”

“Let me give you a hand,” Abigail offered, taking off her sunglasses.

“Thanks, Abby.”

The two women worked around each other to get the sweet drink ready. “Your excitement must be catching,” Abigail said as a large grin formed on her face. “Rachel and I are convinced that Cal’s going to propose any day now.”

“Really?” Lynn gasped with a smile. “I’m so happy for her. Should we give her ideas to set the date now? A winter wedding is always a good choice.”

“That’s assuming she doesn’t die from excitement when he finally does propose,” Abigail pointed out. “When she’s not with him all she does is mope around the house and wonder why he hasn’t asked her to marry him yet. Can you believe it, the poor thing thinks she’s doing something wrong.”

“Oh, she shouldn’t think that! Rachel’s an angel. My favorite niece,” Lynn said as they carried glasses and a pitcher aof sweet tea out to the patio where Cassidy and Charlotte were waiting.

“I still can’t believe Justin paid to add onto your home,” Cassidy mused, accepting her glass and pouring the tea into it. “You have a wonderful son.”

“You do too,” Lynn said as she took a seat. “If it weren’t for him I’d lose my mind having to deal with Justin. Do you remember how rambunctious they used to be? I swore Trace was the ringleader.”

“Then you obviously haven’t met my daughter,” Charlotte laughed, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “She can charm her way out of any sort of trouble. I wouldn’t put it past her to convince them to do anything she wanted. She’s a little devious,” she added and then took a sip of her tea.

“Speaking of…why is she home?” Cassidy asked, tucking her dark hair behind her ears and leaning back in her chair. Charlotte turned her green eyes to her friend but didn’t lift her mouth from her straw. Cassidy looked over at Lynn and Abigail who stared back at her. Cassidy sighed. She’d have to be the brave one again. Now she didn’t wonder where Trace got it from anymore. “Not that I don’t like having her around but…it’s kind of odd that she same back unannounced, don’t you think?”

Charlotte set her glass down and leaned back in her chair. The other women could see her jaw tense despite her not giving away what she was thinking. Cassidy couldn’t look right at her. It was scary looking at Charlotte when she was angry. Her face would be emotionless but as soon as you took a look into her eyes you were a goner.

“She’s home, that’s all I care about,” Charlotte replied, calmly.

“Yes, but…she said she wasn’t going to dance again,” Abigail said slowly, as if measuring her words. “That’s what she lives for. Why would she stop?”

“She’s been dancing for years. I’d take a break if I were her too,” Lynn jumped in. She could feel the tension rising, much like the Memphis heat.

Charlotte let out a long, slow breath and turned her eyes back to her glass. She watched the little droplet of condensation slide down the side of the glass before forming into the puddle that sat on the table beneath it. Then she lifted her eyes and shrugged. “She’ll tell us why she’s back when she wants to. I’m not going to push her.” Then a smile suddenly formed on her face and she changed the subject. “Now, what’s this I hear about Rachel and Cal?”

Abigail looked at Lynn and then gave a half smile. “We’re sure that Cal’s going to propose to her any day now.” Charlotte and Cassidy both let out squeals of excitement. Lynn let out a breath of relief, glad that the tension had gone in the light of the good news. “Rachel’s so excited.”

“The first of the bunch,” Cassidy noted.

“I always expected Rachel to be the first one. She already knew what she wanted in a boyfriend since she was four,” Abigail chuckled, taking a sip of her tea, smacking her lips in satisfaction as she put the glass down. “Shoot, she’d propose to him if she didn’t think he’d do it first. She was starting to get antsy. Even caught her humming the wedding march while she did her chores. Makes me wonder how she functions at her job.”

The women dissolved into peals of laughter at that statement. The light wind carried their laughter and wrapped around them like a hug. As the laughter died Lynn fanned her eyes, feeling tears well up in the corners.

“I can’t wait to see Justin’s face at the sound of that news,” Abigail said as she wiped her eyes.

“He’ll probably go into Big Brother mode,” Charlotte mused. “Wanting to know what they’re doing, where they’re going, when they’ll be back, and then hound them if they ever show up late to something.”

“Well, he’d save Cody from doing his job,” Abigail commented. “He likes Cal a little bit too much. Probably already introduce him as his son.”

“Things are changing, aren’t they?” Cassidy asked.

“Thanks for being so cryptic, Cass,” Charlotte teased.

“Think about it. Our children are growing up. Soon they’ll move onto bigger and better things. They’ll get married and start families and—“

“Finally think about moving out of our houses!” Charlotte interrupted her, lifting her tea glass. The other women laughed their approval and tapped their glasses together before taking sips. A smile was on Charlotte’s face but in the back of her mind she was worried.

Very worried.

“Justin, focus!”

Justin blinked and looked in the direction from where the sharp command came from. Above him JC was leaning against the railing on one of the stage’s upper levels. Joey and Chris were playing on the moving sidewalk on the other riser and Lance was talking to one of the stage hands about something.

“Sorry, man,” Justin muttered, putting his hands on his hips and walked away so JC couldn’t read his face.

Justin didn’t need a mirror to know that a pathetically sad look was stuck there. He couldn’t help it. How else was he supposed to look after breaking up with someone he’s dated for four years? Britney had been his whole life for four years. He shared his fears with her, his darkest secrets that he hasn’t told any of his friends about. He gave her his heart and she just…shattered it.

He could hardly concentrate in rehearsals because he was there. Wade, the one who helped the girl of his life break his heart. He trusted him, both of them, in the very beginning. Hell, he was the one who brought them back together again. It was during the ’99 VMAs that Justin realized he wanted to be with her officially. And she wanted to be with him too.

At the time she did, at least. Justin glared at the ground. Was it all just a lie to her? Was it some sort of game to her? He didn’t want to believe it, he wanted to believe that she loved him as much as he loved her but everything was messed up. He didn’t know what the truth was anymore. And even if she didn’t do anything, Wade wouldn’t pursue her without a reason…

“Hey.” Justin jumped when JC’s hand came down on his shoulder. JC’s eyebrows were knitted together in concern. JC’s big blue eyes asked the question that didn’t dare leave his lips.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Justin mumbled, dropping his shoulder. JC’s hand fell to his side.

“J, come on. I know it’s eating you up inside,” JC said softly. “And, not to sound like a jerk, but it’s starting to affect our show. The fans can tell that something is up. It’s only a matter of time until the news hits the stands.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Justin hissed. JC held up his hands and took a step away. “I don’t need this,” he muttered. He jumped off of the stage and walked past a long row of chairs before he disappeared from sight. JC sighed and ran a hand through his hair as Joey came up behind him.

“Man, the kid’s really hurting,” Joey noted.

“Yeah, no kidding,” JC replied. “He shouldn’t just run away from his problems though.”

“He knows how to put the ‘baby’ in Baby J,” Chris snickered. Joey and JC turned to look at him. Chris’s smile instantly dropped from his face and he widened his eyes. “What?” he asked, his voice raising a few octaves. “I’m only speaking the truth! Ever since…whatever happened between him and Spears he’s been acting like a little kid who doesn’t get his way.”

“You’d know that first hand I’ll bet,” JC said dryly.

“Oh, ha ha.” Chris jumped onto the moving sidewalk at the top and let it carry him to the center of the stage. Then he took the stairs down and joined them on the long catwalk. “Am I not allowed to have fun anymore?”

“Not at his expense.”

“Then I might as well not talk.”

“Let’s see how long that lasts.”

“Hey!”

“Guys, knock it off,” Lance said as he lifted himself back up onto the stage. Chris stuck his tongue out at JC and pressed his lips together. His cheeks puffed up as he glared at JC but the older man ignored him while turning to Lance. “Justin’s really hurt right now, we can’t do anything but let him let off steam in his own way. He was hurt by someone he thought he would marry. Marry, guys. He wouldn’t just be able to move on from that.” Chris’s eyes started to cross but he went unnoticed. Lance sighed and added, “And it doesn’t help that his best friend isn’t here for him to talk to about the whole thing.”

“You haven’t got a hold of her either, then?” Joey asked. Lance shook his head. “We didn’t either. It’s not like her to not answer her phone.”

“Yeah, I even tried her home but her mom keeps saying that I ‘just missed her’,” JC said with finger quotes. Chris grabbed his throat.

“Hey, does his mom know?” Lance suddenly asked.

“Yeah, I told her about it but I didn’t go into deep detail,” JC replied. “I don’t know everything that happened and, even if I did, it’s not my place to tell. It’s his but for some reason he’s avoiding talking to her, too.”

“I wish he’d talk to us,” Joey muttered.

“Bwaaahhhh!” Chris doubled over, panting heavily. Lance, Joey, and JC all looked at him as he put his hands on his knees and took in and let out deep breaths. He glared at the other three that looked down at him, eyebrows lifted at his exaggeration of trying to get his breath back. “You guys…are a bunch…of sad sacks,” he panted, standing upright.

“What’re you talking about?” JC sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to sound insensitive but they were wasting time. They still had shows to do and they needed to be on point for them. Joey has done a few shows injured. Chris has done a few shows with a broken ankle. JC’s done countless shows when he was sick, of which he would collapse afterwards from exhaustion. But they would keep going and that’s what Justin had to do as well.

“You three are being ridiculous. Oh, boo hoo, Justin’s girlfriend broke up with him,” Chris said with a roll of his eyes.

“Cheated, Chris,” Joey corrected him.

“We don’t know that,” JC said sharply. Joey took a step away from him. JC clenched his hands into fists. Britney was like his kid sister. Since he met her on the MMC set he knew she’d be big. He didn’t know how big but he knew it would happen. And when it did a huge set of problems came with it, which he didn’t understand. She was a sweet girl but the press hated her. He wanted to punch every single one of the article writers for saying such mean things about her. They didn’t know her. Granted, he felt like he didn’t know her as much as he used to anymore but he knew a lot more than they did.

“Anyway, what I’m saying is we’ve been through breakups before. We got through it, so will Justin. The only reason this is a big thing is because the press was attacking this relationship from the start,” Chris explained. “If they were more careful with their relationship in the public eye then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You don’t know that, Chris,” Lance said gently.

“Bull!” Chris snapped. Now JC and Lance stepped away from Chris. There were random moments when he’d be serious and they knew to take him seriously and really listen to what he had to say. Even now it still shocked them how angry and serious he could get when he seemed to constantly live an easy going lifestyle. “That is fucking bullshit and you know it! Justin and Britney fucking knew how important they were to…to US Weekly and OK! Magazine and all those other junk magazines. They knew that they’d be followed around ever single damn time they left the damn studio together. They were the ones who let the pressure get to them. They were the ones who didn’t fight back! They were the ones who didn’t fucking fight hard enough!”

“Man, we’re all hurting from this. But it won’t help to get angry,” JC said quietly, putting a hand on Chris’s shoulder as they heaved.

“I just hate this!” He replied.

“I know, Chris, I know.”

“I…I fucking hate that he’s hurting,” Chris mumbled, echoing what was on the others’ minds. “I hate that my brother is hurting and I don’t know how to fix it!”

Trace rolled over and slammed his fist onto the top of his alarm clock. Another day of the same boring routine. His job gave him a good amount of money but it was tedious. Most days he went in at the normal time only to realize that later in the day he could’ve slept in by the time they actually needed work done. Trace was mulling over the idea of skipping when he heard a key in the lock of the front door. He looked at the time and figured it wasn’t his mother so it must’ve been his father and grandfather finally back from their hunting trip.

Trace got out of bed and changed his clothes as quickly as he could and then took the stairs two at a time to get to the kitchen. His grandfather was sitting in ‘his’ chair at the head of the table. His red and black plaid shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a white dirt-stained wife beater. His belly moved with every jovial laugh that came out of his mouth and stamped his thick dark boots onto the ground.

“Ah, Juan, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Mr. Rast said as soon as his sights were set on his grandson.

“Hey Granddad,” Trace said happily, moving over to where he was and pressed a kiss onto his grandfather’s wrinkled face. “How was hunting?” He asked, turning to his father and giving him a ‘man hug’ with loud claps on the back.

“A success as usual,” Mr. Rast replied. “We’ve got a good buck this time. Should make for some mighty dine jerky.” He smiled at the thought and rubbed his round stomach.

“Where’s your mother?” Mr. Ayala asked.

“Why? Don’t tell me you’ve brought her a ‘souvenir’ again,” Trace said with finger quotes. “You know how she reacted last time. Almost flipped her lid.” At the stern look in his eyes he replied, “She went out for some groceries I think.”

“Good, take a gander at this.” Mr. Ayala reached into the pocket of his muddy jeans. He pulled out something flat and held it out to his son.

Trace took it and looked at what was written on it. “A Caribbean cruise?” he questioned.

“For our anniversary next week,” Mr. Ayala explained. “I’m taking her on a cruise for the entire week.”

“Mom’ll love that for sure,” Trace said, handing the tickets back.

“Have you thought anymore about what you’re going to do after you’re done with your maintenance job?” Mr. Ayala asked.

“I haven’t had any good offers yet but I like where I work,” Trace replied.

He was lying through his teeth. He got paid well but he didn’t enjoy the job in particular. He wanted to do something else that made him feel useful but he hadn’t gotten any good offers. He wanted to do something that let him use his mind in a creative way but those kinds of jobs were hard to find in Memphis. For the longest time he felt the urge to leave and pack up his things to start over in a new city. But how was he going to explain to his mother that he now wanted to leave when, before, he didn’t see himself ever leaving his home?

“My offer is still open,” Mr. Ayala told him.

“Thanks, Dad, but I want more before I go with yours.”

Mr. Ayala merely shrugged. “Times running out.”

“I realize that but something might come. Have faith in me, why doncha?” He grabbed his hat off of a nearby coatrack and shoved it down over his head. “I gotta go.” Trace didn’t mean to slam the door shut  ehind him but his father made him so mad sometimes.

Why was it so hard for him to realize that he didn’t want to work in the ‘family’ business? There was a bigger world out there for him that was calling to him. Trace smiled at a thought that reached his mind as soon as he got into his car. What if he just stowed away on *NSYNC’s bus while they left to continue their tour?

His dad wouldn’t be able to say anything then.

He’d be long gone.

“Rachel, stop!” Mack ordered, pointing at her friend. “Put the bride magazine…down,” she said slowly, as if talking any faster would set her off. Rachel’s red-painted fingers dug into the cover of the Brides magazine, her fingers distorting the image of the woman on the cover. Her stance on the other side of the coffee table was tense and her eyes were wild. The other two magazines she had been looking at, Modern Brides and Elegant Bride, were left on the table.

“Just one more,” Rachel begged.

“Rach, he hasn’t even proposed yet!” Mack cried out, throwing her arms into the air.

Rachel’s finger whipped out and pointed at her. “Ah-ha!”  She practically screamed.

“Ah-ha, what?” Mack asked in exasperation and shoved Rachel’s finger out of her face. “You finally realized you  lost your marbles?”

“You said ‘yet’,” Rachel replied.

“Yeah, so?”

“So that means he could propose to me any day now,” she replied.

“OK, even if he does, I’m telling you now that I’m not going to be in your wedding party,” Mack announced, clearly giving up and going back to her forgotten breakfast. She made a mental note to ask Abigail if she knew that her daughter had a few screws loose in her head.

“Why not?” Rachel asked, following her back into the kitchen. “You’d look cute in this bridesmaid dress,” she added, turning the magazine around and showing her the page.

“For one, I don’t do ‘cute’,” Mack replied, waving her spoon around to emphasize her point. “And two, if you’re this crazy before he even proposes, you’re going to go off the deep end once you do get proposed to. You’re going to go nuts finding the perfect dress, the perfect venue, the perfect flowers, and blah blah blah. Makes me consider eloping if I ever decide to get married.” She dunked her spoon into her cereal again and took a bite.

Rachel tossed the magazine onto the table and sat back down in her chair, taking a bite of her toast. She studied her friend as she chewed, noticing how odd it was that she was still carrying herself as if she were guarding herself from something. Or someone. As soon as that thought crossed Rachel’s mind Mack’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and let out a sigh before answering.

“Hello?” She asked dully. Rachel remained as quiet as possible while sipping her coffee. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m alive and talking to you, aren’t I?” She sounded annoyed with whoever she was talking to. “The tour was almost over anyway, what did it matter when I left?” She rolled her eyes and opened and closed one hand as if imitating someone talking. Rachel cracked a smile and let out a little snort of a laugh. “You’re what?” Mack’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in horror. “Two weeks!?  Why? I don’t care if he’s freaking homesick, you guys have a tour to finish! Waddya mean it’s none of my business? It’s going to screw up your fucking schedule! You get a fucking vacation in about a month, why the fuck do you need one now? Yeah, whatever.” She jabbed the end call button with her thumb and put her cell phone down. Her eyes squinted a bit as she muttered something to herself.

“Something wrong?” Rachel finally ventured to ask.

“That was JC,” she replied. “Instead of coming here for two days like their tour allowed they managed to clear with Johnny that they can stay for two fucking weeks. Apparently Justin was homesick,” she said and stuck her tongue out at the end of her sentence.

“Is that…a bad thing?” Rachel said slowly. “It’s about time my cousin came back. I’ve been worried about him lately, what with him breaking up with—“ She stopped when she noticed the glare that settled into Mack’s eyes. “You-Know-Who,” she finished. “Maybe,” she ventured slowly, “it’s a good thing that they’re staying for so long. You can talk out whatever’s wrong and then things will go back to normal.”

“Normal’s never been a word that could ever be applied to us,” Mack replied.

“You have a point.”

Rachel turned her head when she heard the front door open and then was accompanied by heavy footsteps. “Hey Trace,” she called as soon as she saw it was him. “Did you come for some breakfast? Mom made plenty.” She waved her hand at the spread of food that was on the kitchen table.

“Thanks but no thanks, I already ate,” Trace said as he patted his stomach. “I came to get her for work.”

“Hmmm, can I take a personal day?” Mack asked.

“It’s your first official day and you want to flake out already?”

“I’m not doing much, probably just grading some papers.”

“Get yer ass up.” Trace rolled his eyes at her over exaggerated sigh. “Hey, did Justin call you?” He asked, turning to Rachel.

“No, but JC just called her. Said they now have an extended vacation,” Rachel replied.

“Yeah. That’s what he told me,” Trace said with a nod. “Said he was homesick?”

“Which is odd since he usually never gets homesick,” Rachel replied.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

Rachel glanced at Mack and then lowered her voice. “You think she has something to do with it?”

“No doubt. They’ve hardly gone a day without talking to each other. But almost a week? That’s unheard of.”

Rachel’s eyebrow twitched slightly at the trace of bitterness in his voice but she let it go. She chuckled as the two left her house, bickering along the way, which was replaced by the sound of the screen door slamming shut. Sighing, she gathered up the dirty plates and put them in the sink. She turned to look at the phone as it rang and then looked at her wet hands. She made a face and rushed over to the phone, bending oddly to get it up and onto her shoulder. “Hello?” She answered.

“Rach?” Justin’s breathy voice came in on the other line.

“Yeah, J,” Rachel said, automatically concerned. “What’s up?”

“…Not much.”

“Trace said you called? How much longer until you’re home?”

“Five days.”

Rachel’s eyebrows crinkled together. He sounded distracted which meant that he was worried about something which, in turn, worried her. “What’s going on?”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes, but why?”

“Good, I need to talk to you.”

“What’s it about, J? You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Did Mack ever say why she went home?”

“Yeah,” Rachel said slowly. “She said something about relationship drama between you and Britney and she felt responsible for it and something to do with Wade.”

“Well, she should feel responsible but Wade isn’t directly connected.” He paused and let out a breath. “God, this is so screwed up.”

“J, what’s going on? What happened?”

“You won’t believe me when I tell you.”

Mack smiled and waved at the little kids who gathered their books and rushed out of the room. She chuckled at the little voices calling “Bye Miss ‘Kenzie” on their way out. The children were great. Most of them had a desire to learn new things each day; it was keeping their attentions on some tasks that were the hard part. After a bit the teacher ‘bribed’ them with extra recess to get their work done but they did eventually buckle down and get it done and worked harder than she’s seen them work before.

She waved to a few teachers on her way out the door and crossed the parking lot to Trace’s truck. She groaned inaudibly when she saw that Brett was hanging around the truck. She arched an eyebrow at the fact that both he and Trace were shirtless. A basketball was sitting by Trace’s feet. Brett suddenly turned away from talking to Trace and looked up. A smile formed on his face once he spied her. She fought the urge to barf at his lack of subtlety. Which part of no didn’t he understand?

“Hey Mackenzie,” he said in which she guessed was supposed to be a charming tone. It just got on her nerves.

“It’s Mack,” she corrected him, tossing her back into the trunk. “Hey Trace,” she added, nodding at him. “What’d you do today?”

“Paint stuff,” he replied. “Same ol’, same ol’.” Then he took a swig of his beer.

“You know you two could be arrested for having alcohol on school property and for indecent exposure,” she told them.

Brett smiled in a smarmy way. “Were you checking us out on your way over here?”

Mack felt her lip curl in disgust, but she couldn’t deny his assumption. She was human, a female even, she couldn’t help what her eyes were doing. It was as if they had a mind of their own. “In your dreams,” she replied with an eye roll for affect.

“How’d you know what I dreamed about?” Brett asked. He got a scoff as a reply. “You really need to lighten up. Want some?” He held his bottle out to her.

“Peer pressure,” she sneered. “But no, I don’t drink. Alcohol ruins lives.”

Brett glanced at Trace who lightly shook his head, staying out of the argument. He was having too much fun watching to get involved. Brett chuckled a little. “No it doesn’t,” he said.

“Ever heard of AA?” Mack asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s filled with people who don’t know when to stop. I, though, know my limits.”

“You sure about that?” She asked, cracking her knuckles.

“OK,” Trace said stepping in before she broke her fist on her face. “I think you guys talked enough.”

“You coming out with us tonight?” Brett asked as Trace pulled his shirt on over his head. “We’re going to Neely’s and maybe hit up the pool hall afterwards.”

“Naw, man, I gotta get home,” Trace replied as Mack brushed past them and got into the passenger side of his truck, telling herself to get a car instead of relying on Trace. She adjusted the side view mirror and slumped in her seat while she waited. She ran her fingers through her now wavy hair and cursed the Southern humidity and what it did to her hair.

“When’re you going to come out with us, man? Sam’s been gone for two years, surely you’re over it by now,” Brett said quietly.

“What does Sam have anything to do with this?” Trace asked. Mack’s eyes squinted slightly at the expression on Trace’s face that was reflected in the mirror. It was hard to read but she’s seen it on Chris’s and Joey’s faces whenever they were in the ‘off’ position of their relationships.

“It has everything to do with this,” Brett replied. “You’ve been in a funk since—“

“I haven’t been in a funk and Sam is none of your business, OK?” Trace said, his tone hard.

“OK,” Brett said, holding his hands. “I guess I’ll see you later then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Trace said slowly. He walked around the back of his truck and got in. Mack quietly buckled up and moved the side view mirror back to its original state. Trace’s posture was tense, the muscle in his jaw was twitching like an anaconda waiting to strike.

“You’re still not over her?” Mack ventured to ask.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Trace mumbled.

“It’s been two years.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“OK, OK, fine.”

The silence was excruciating but Trace couldn’t talk. Why did they always bring up Sam? She wasn’t the reason for him not feeling like going to the pool hall or the local barbecue place. He just didn’t feel like partying. Besides, it wasn’t as good going to parties when Justin wasn’t there. They looked out for each other and without him there he didn’t trust himself around alcohol. He got drunk pretty easily lately. Sometimes he had to call Rachel in the middle of the night to take him home so he wouldn’t have to face his father. His dad would pop him a new one if he ever found out how often he had gotten drunk.

“Trace!” Trace blinked at Mack yelling his name and turned to look at her. She was staring at him in a peculiar way, the same way her mother used to look at him to get him to confess whenever he did something wrong while he was playing at her house. It kinda scared him how much she looked like her mother, almost the exact same but the hair and eye color were different. While Charlotte had dark brown hair and green eyes, Mack got her father’s black hair and blue eyes. But sometimes Trace swore he saw flecks of green in them. “Trace!” Now she sounded annoyed.

“What?” He asked, blinking.

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” she replied, pushing open the door. “My mom and dad are busy all night so it’s just me and the dogs.”

“Uh…yeah, sure,” Trace said, a little disoriented, as he killed the engine. As soon as she grabbed her bag from the back he followed her into the cool house. For some reason it felt odd for him to be alone with her in the house, although he’s been there with her before. Usually her parents were around or, if not them, some of their other friends. It just occurred to him this was the first time he was actually alone with her and it left him unsettled.

“Is macaroni OK?” she asked while pulling open the refrigerator. “I think all we have is Kraft so it’s not that Velveeta crap you people like.”

“Velveeta’s amazing. You’re the weird one around here,” Trace replied.

“Yeah yeah,” she said with a wave of her hand and filled it with water. Then she transferred it over to the stove and turned on the heat. Trace watched as she moved around, getting dinner ready. He then felt he could at least help a little and set the table, putting the fork and knife down on the right sides of the plates. If he didn’t get that right he would get an earful from his mother.

“So, since when are you and Brett friends?” Mack asked during a lull in activity.

Trace shrugged. “Hung out a bit during senior year and had some college classes together,” he replied.

“Is he always that stubborn?”

“’Bout as bull-headed as you are,” he replied, ignoring the finger that was saluting him. “Why?”

“For someone who got through college you’d think he heard the word ‘no’ before,” she replied. “The kid tormented me all in school, basically chased me out of Memphis, and now he’s hitting on me like there’s no tomorrow. I mean the attention is flattering…”

“But?” Trace asked, turning to fix a napkin that didn’t need fixing at all.

“He’s abrasive and I hate that.”

“Right, you want someone that you can boss around.”

She smirked. “He has to at least have a brain and goals.”

“He wants to be a doctor.”

“The shoe doesn’t fit,” she replied. “What about you?” He looked at her. “What’re your goals?”

Trace hesitated. He already knew what he wanted to do but he never told anyone afraid that he’d get laughed out of the state. His father wouldn’t support his decision, probably call it some fairy tale and that someone like him shouldn’t even bother. “I want…to design stuff,” he replied slowly.

“Like clothes?” She asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’d be cool, but designing anything in general would be good. Something that lets me use my head in different ways. I want to do that and help people as well.”

“That’s noble of you.”

He couldn’t tell if she was teasing him or not. “And you?”

“Oh, I’ve already done what I wanted to do,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Travel the world by dancing.” She chuckled. “Didn’t think I’d get to it by the time I was twenty though. Kinda leaves my future empty.”

“Gives you more time to do whatever else you wanted to do.”

“Just gotta find out what that is.”

“Shouldn’t take you too long. You’re not keen on staying put.”

“Too true.” She paused. “I don’t know, I think I want to slow down for a bit. Stay out of the spotlight for a while, get back into riding again. The simple stuff. Maybe settle down and have a few kids.”

Trace scoffed. “What happened to marriage?”

“That too.”

She turned to the microwave to get the chicken that she had heated up. it was amazing how fast she could help him get out of whatever mood he was in without even trying. It’s probably the only reason he kept her around because, otherwise, they were bickering about something insignificant. But then she would do something nice to throw him off. Like she was doing now…

“What’re you up to?” Trace demanded.

“I’m making…dinner?” Mack replied slowly, putting the stealing plate of chicken into the middle of the table.

“You’re trying to distract me from something,” he replied. “What do you want to know? Something about Sam, right? That’s all anyone talks to me about nowadays anyway.”

“Ah, so now you know how I feel,” she replied, taking off her oven mitts.

“That’s different. You just showed up with no plan or anything.”

“Yet you people are still breathing down my back about it.”

“We wouldn’t have to if you’d just tell us why you skipped out on tour.” Trace wanted to pull his hair out. Usually her determination was endearing but not when it was used against him.

“OK.” She slapped the oven mitts down onto the table. “OK, fine. You really want to know why I’m here?”

“Yes!” Trace replied. “I want to know why you skipped out on tour. I want to know why you’re back early. I want to know who made you cry because I want to make them cry for doing that.”

“You know very well Justin’s the only one that can make me cry,” she pointed out.

“OK, what did he do?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t do anything. It’s something we did.”

“Fine, what do you two do?”

He wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. He didn’t even think he’d get it right anyway. The only thing he could think of was that they—

“We slept together.”

—got into a fight about who got a certain side of the hotel room.

Wait, what?

Trace blinked. He didn’t hear her right. He couldn’t have heard her right. They slept together? Trace stopped himself from jumping to the same conclusion. She couldn’t mean what he thought she meant. They’ve shared beds, floors, even sleeping bags on some occasions but she couldn’t mean that. A tiny monster clawed at his stomach at those words and he felt like he was about to puke.

“You…you two…?” He couldn’t even form the words.

“Slept together,” she repeated, nodding. She said it so casually; she mustn’t mean what he was thinking.

The shrill ring of the phone made Trace jump. Mack sighed (in relief?) and reached for the phone. “Yellow?” She drawled. Trace blinked. When’d her accent come back? “Yeah. He’s here.” She turned and held out the white phone. “It’s your mom.”

Trace took the phone from her and turned away. He couldn’t look in her eyes. “Yeah?” He answered the phone. Mack took the pot that was still on the stove and dumped the water and noodles into a strainer. “What?” She almost dropped the pot in fright but managed to keep her grip on it to transfer it back to the stove. “Yeah, I’m on my way,” Trace said quickly and hung up the phone.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Mack asked, noticing the expression on his face.

“I have to get to the hospital,” he mumbled. He was numb. He couldn’t feel his feet moving but the sound of his footsteps falling on the floor let him know that he was.

“Why, what’s wrong?” He heard her ask from behind him.

“It…it’s Grandad. He had a stroke.”

Justin stared out the window from his bunk into the black abyss. He sighed and brought his hands behind his head. Another night of driving. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it. He couldn’t stand being on the road anymore, he had to go home. He needed to be on a break. He felt like he was slowly losing his mind while on tour and it didn’t even feel fun anymore. It felt more like a job and that was one thing that being in *NSYNC never felt like to him. But it was becoming tedious and boring and he was tired of it all.

He wanted to go home to relax, sleep. Play golf. Ride his ATV and hit up the local barbeque joints. It was only five more days but they were five long days of hell. He wanted, no, needed , to be out of the spotlight. It was frying his brain and he felt like a bug trapped under a magnifying glass. He needed to be normal and the only way to be normal was to go back home.

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he heard a sort of knock on the side of his bunk. He pulled back the curtain and looked up into JC’s infinitely curious blue eyes.

“What?” Justin asked as he lifted his headphones off of his ears.

“Wanna talk,” he replied.

“I don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Bull.”

“I don’t, JC.”

“Come on, Justin. You know something we don’t. It’s why you’ve been acting weird. The fans have started to notice as well and I can only pretend that nothing’s happening for so long.”

Justin groaned. “Why do you care?”

“I’m worried,” JC replied simply. “We all are. And as your honorary brothers you owe us. Now come on.”

“Fuck,” Justin grumbled, swinging his legs around. He knew he wouldn’t be left alone until he talked to them and the sooner he could leave the better. Just five more days. He hated the way the others were looking at him. They had smiles on their faces but pity in their eyes. He didn’t want to be pitied; he wanted to go home so he could finally have someone to talk to about everything.

He sat down in an empty seat on the long couch. He tossed the pillow out of his way and nailed Chris right in the face. On instinct Chris was about to fire off a comment but he caught the look in JC’s eye and deflated.

Chris bit his tongue to keep himself from exploding at Justin. “J, you need to talk,” Lance started when no one else said anything. “Keeping everything bottled up inside is going to slowly eat at you until you go crazy. Talk to us, we’re here. We know what you’re going through.”

Justin snorted. “Really? Has every single girlfriend you’ve ever had cheat on you?” He asked bitterly.

“Come on, J, every one?” Chris asked.

“Yes. Every single damn fucking one!” Justin hissed. “What, is that what you all wanted to hear? ‘Cause if that’s it—“

“Sit down, Justin,” JC ordered him. Justin held JC’s stern gaze for a bit before he fell back into his seat. “You’re tired. We get it, we all are. You’re tired of being on the road and not being able to be “normal”. We’re going through the same thing. We don’t get to see our families either but we’re going through it together. Stop pushing us away, we just want to help.”

“You can’t,” Justin replied, his frustration growing. He wanted to be left alone, couldn’t the others see that? But of course they had to form a support group for him. It’s not what he wanted. He didn’t want to talk to them, he wanted to be able to talk to his Mom, face to face.

“Talk to us.”

“You want to help?” Justin asked. “Go back in time and stop Wade from being…from being her choreographer. Stop him from falling for her. Better yet, stop her from auditioning for the fucking Mouse Club. I wouldn’t have met her and have gone through this.”

“You really want to forget about your relationship, just like that?” Joey asked quietly. Justin didn’t say anything. “I know it hurts, J. Hell, I’ve been through many breakups—“

“They were all Kelly, Joe,” Chris spoke up.

Joey brushed off his words with a wave of his hand. “No difference. I know it hurts, loving someone so much and then they hurt you. But can you honestly sit there and blame her for it?”

“She fucking cheated, Joey!” Justin yelled. “Of course I can blame her.”

“Were you two close?”

“What kind of a fucking question is that?”

“Justin, come on, answer the question,” Lance sighed, rubbing his eyes. He knew Justin wouldn’t go through this willingly. If it were Lance he would’ve felt like he was being interrogated and he would’ve jumped ot of any window to get away. That’s what Justin must’ve been feeling, but Lance was hurt. They always went to each other with their problems, why not now? Why was Justin hiding from them? Lance didn’t want to admit it, but it hurt. They were supposed to be brothers, weren’t they? Where did the tight brotherhood go?

He guessed that’s why the needed the break.

“Yes we were close,” Justin said through clenched teeth.

“So why would you just drop her?” Joey asked slowly, gauging Justin’s reaction. “We understand that you’re hurt and confused and upset and…a mix of emotions but what we’re trying to say is that you can’t let it take over your life.”

“SHE WAS MY LIFE, JOEY!” Justin exploded. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. This was the first time any of them had a taste of what Justin was feeling or how their relationship worked. They knew that Justin cared about her a lot but they never really understood how much he cared. “She was my entire fucking life in the past…four years. She’s all I cared about. Fuck, I was…I was going to ask her to fucking marry me and then she pulls this shit just because she felt like we weren’t communicating well. How’s that for fucking communication? I got that fucking message loud and clear!”

“When were you going to ask her?” JC asked quietly. He clenched his hands into fists to keep from jumping into “Big Brother” mode. He couldn’t help it, he’s known Justin since he was a kid. Hell, he was even asked by Lynn personally to watch over Justin. It hurt him to see his little brother hurting.

“Does it matter?” Justin grumbled, biting his thumbnail.

Chris figured he was distressed. Justin only bit his nails when he was nervous about something or over thinking. He was probably over thinking the “what if”s. Chris sighed. It was weird, seeing Justin like this. Like…a little kid. He looked so young right now, despite having the body of a twenty-one-year-old.

“I want to go home,” he whispered, the little kid in him coming out.

“We know, Bounce,” Chris said softly. He hated the atmosphere. He really wanted to crack a joke, burp, fart, something to make Justin laugh but it was as if he had curled in on himself. It’s only five more days. You can toghj it out.”

“Guys, you don’t understand,” Justin groaned. He stared out the window into the black abyss as the bus carried them down the road. “I love being in *NSYNC, it’s my life, you all know that,” he started. “But, I’m going to be 100% honest with you guys; I hate what it’s taken away from me. I missed everything!”

“We missed a lot of things too, J,” Lance told him. “We know how you’re feeling.”

“No you don’t! You didn’t miss Homecoming for Prom. You didn’t miss hanging out with friends at football games. You didn’t miss out on your childhood,” Justin replied. “I just…fuck! I missed my brothers growing up. I missed seeing Trace and Rachel graduate, high school and college.” He let out a long breath. “I love you guys but I’m glad this break is coming up.” He let out a little chuckle. “I need to get away from your ugly mugs.”

“It’s no picnic dealing with you either,” Chris snorted. “Even without hair you still take forever in the bathroom.”

“Whatever. Your memory’s slipping, Old Man.”

The atmosphere had lifted a bit but something settled on JC’s chest wrong. Justin was smiling again but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was still holding something in, something that he wasn’t going to willingly dish out. So JC would just have to pull it out.

“Justin, why’d Mack leave?” JC finally asked him straight out. Justin’s smile instantly faded. “You know, J and now she won’t talk to us because of you.”

“But he means that in a less harsh way,” Joey jumped in.

“No, I don’t. I want answers.”

“And so do we but you don’t have to jump down his throat about it.”

“How else do you expect to get it out of him?”

“I slept with her,” Justin said calmly. A little too calmly. It managed to stop Joey and JC in mid argument and the two turned to look at him. “What?” He asked as if they were shocked that he just said he had curly hair.

“Dude!” Chris was the first to speak. “Does the rug match the drapes?”

“Chris!” Lance scolded.

“What? You want to know, too. Don’t even try to deny it.” Lance rolled his eyes while Chris elbowed Justin. “So, does it?”

“What, do you think she’s a closeted blond or something?” Justin grumbled, shoving Chris’s arm away.

“Wait, wait, wait,” JC said waving his hands. He blinked rapidly as if that would clarify what he just said. “You…you…” he couldn’t even get the sentence out of his mouth.

“Yeah, we slept together, no big deal,” Justin said with a shrug. He rubbed his stomach as soon as it let out a loud growl. “Hey, do we have any cereal.”

“Why? When?” JC spluttered. “Wait, so you cheated too?”

“No, that was after Brit and I broke up.”

“Why?”

Justin shrugged. “Lonleyness, I guess. Look, it’s not that big a deal. People suspected that we’ve done it anyway, we just made speculation a fact.”

“Was she any good?” Chris asked.

“Chris!” Lance, Joey, and JC cried out simultaneously.

“Oh, come on! You guys want to know too!”

“Well, he must’ve been bad if she ran off,” Joey commented. Justin flipped him off and he grinned, lightly nudging him. He paused and a thoughtful look came to his face. “You don’t think she was, like, in love with you or something, do you?” He asked. “Maybe that’s why she left? That she couldn’t deal with how torn up you were about B—her.”

Justin snorted. “All I know is she won’t talk to me and I’m pretty sure I haven’t done anything this time.”

“This time,” JC repeated with a small eye roll.

Justin let out a breath and rubbed his eyes. “I can’t take this much longer.” He didn’t even have to say what he was thinking, the others knew.

“Justin, everything will be OK. You’ll be in Memphis soon and you can talk to everyone and everything will go back to normal,” JC told him. Justin made a scoffing sound. “It’s just five days. What could possibly happen in five days?”

“In Memphis? Plenty.”

Rachel bit her lip while pacing the waiting room rapidly. She was also twirling her hair around her finger, two of her worst nervous habits. Her mind was jump all over the place while she watched doctors moving around the hospital going about their business. Why weren’t one of them saying anything? They had to know something about Mr. Rast by now. She just wanted to know if he were alive.

She couldn’t even imagine how Trace was feeling.

She could practically feel the despair in his voice when he called her on his way to the hospital. It chilled her to the bone and practically made her heart stop. She was surprised that he remained as calm as he did. If it were her and it was any of her parents or grandparents in that position she’d lose her head.

But she should’ve expected it from Trace. He didn’t show is emotions unless he was drunk. He was the type of person that didn’t want to burden others with what he was feeling or what was going through his mind. It drove her nuts then and it drives her nuts now.

“Rachel, stop pacing,” Trace grumbled from his seat. He was slumped, hardly staying upright in his chair. He constantly pulled his hat off of his head to run his fingers through his hair and then put it back on. Mack was sprawled in the chair next to him flipping through the pages of US Magazine as if she were at a nail salon instead of a hospital.

“Leave her alone, Trace, she can pace if she wants to,” Mack said without putting the magazine down.

“It’s getting on my nerves,” he clarified at the look that Rachel was sending him.

“It’s not like it’s killing you.”

Trace made an odd sound at her comment but otherwise stayed silent. Rachel put her hands on her hips and glared at the two of them. ”What’s with you? You’ve been act each other’s throats since we got here.” Neither of them said a word. Rachel took the free seat next to Trace. “Look, T, I understand that you’re upset and worried and confused and everything—“

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Trace interrupted her.

“Well, what else are you going to do in a hospital? Sulk? You’ve done that enough already,” Mack jumped in.

“No one asked you!” Trace snapped. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He didn’t want to fight with her but he couldn’t help it. His emotions were jumping all over the place. He almost drove them off of the road a few times on their way to the hospital. He was overcome with so much worry and fear that he couldn’t think straight. It didn’t help that she kept giving him pitying looks the entire way there. It also didn’t help that his stomach tied in knots every time she looked at him and that hasn’t happened before and it wasn’t something that he wanted to dwell on.

“Trace!” Rachel scolded.

“What?” He snapped. She was talking to him as if he just yelled at a little kid. They didn’t get what he was going though. He just wanted some answers and no one was giving it to him, leaving him steadily growing frustrated. “I want some answers but no one in this fucking place seems to know anything about my Granddad!” His voice started to rise with each word, gaining the attention of the others in the waiting room and doctors that passed by. “It’s not my fault that the doctors here are fucking quacks!” he added, barking at a young male doctor that rushed by him, looking at a clipboard.

“You’re being unfair,” Mack said, finally putting down the magazine. She creased the top corner of one page and rested the magazine on her knees which were drawn up to her chest. “The doctors are doing the best they can to help Mr. Rast. You have to chill and be patient. The doctors will tell you as soon as they find out what’s wrong.”

Rachel sat back and let the two go at it. They needed to get everything out. It was obvious that Trace was scared and worried and just wanted answers on his grandfather’s condition while Mack was scared for him. But, of course, the two didn’t exactly know how to get that point across so they just argued until they couldn’t talk anymore.

“Hey Mack, why don’t you go call my favorite cousin?” Rachel interrupted the two at the height of their argument.

Mack looked at Rachel as if she were crazy. “You only have one cousin, Rach.”

“Exactly,” Rachel replied pleasantly.

“If you want me to leave, just say so.”

“Leave.” Rachel waited for Mack to leave the waiting room to find good signal on her cell phone. Trace had his arms crossed and his foot was tapping rapidly on the ground. Every now and then he’d glance up and down the hall. Rachel crossed one leg over the other and picked at lint that landed on her shirt. She then rested her hands on her knee and clicked her tongue. “Your UST is stifling,” Rachel commented offhandedly.

Trace looked at her as if she had grown a second head. “Our what?”

“UST,” she replied. Trace’s face remained blank. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Unresolved sexual tension.” Trace scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not kidding, Trace. Every time you look at each other I think you’re going to jump each other’s bones right then and there.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Trace mumbled, taking off his hat. “We don’t have UST.”

“Yes you do,” Rachel said with a rapid head-nod. “It’s like…an overflowing teapot. Sooner rather than later the tension is going to build and build and build until the only thing you two can do to get over it is have hot, steamy, inhibition-lowered sex.”

“You’re too comfortable talking about this,” Trace muttered.

Rachel shrugged. “I figured it’s the same reason she slept with my cousin.”

“Wait, you know about that?” Trace asked.

“Duh! He told me about it,” she replied with a scoff. “Anyway, those two have been close for years. People speculated that they were sleeping together anyway, might as well confirm their suspicions, ya know? With them, though, I figured it was more about being lonely than having UST. I mean, Justin was in a rough spot with Britney and Mack probably just wanted to feel loved by someone. I knew it was only a matter of time for them to sleep together so it’s only a matter of time for you two, too.” She elbowed him in the side. “Especially considering the fact that you’ve been pining after her since, like, the first grade.”

Trace scoffed again. “I haven’t been pining after her,” he told her.

She merely nodded. “Yes you have, otherwise you wouldn’t be insanely jealous over how close those two are. You wouldn’t be pissed at her for sleeping with him when it’s her decision. You wouldn’t get mad at him every time those two get into a fight. It’s a cycle for them, Justin says something stupid, Mack overreacts, they fight, and they make up by the next day. Surely you’d know that by now. You wouldn’t try to be her knight in shining armor all the time if you didn’t like her. Besides, she’s not insanely jealous over how close we are.” She smirked when he didn’t say anything. “You know I’m right,” she stated.

“Shut up,” he groaned. He opened an eye. “And stop smirking at me like that.”

“You’re only mad because Justin slept with her,” Rachel stated.

“Can we please stop talking about this?”

“We’d be done if you stopped running away from the fact that you feel something for her.”

Trace was about to give a response when he saw a doctor walking down the hall. The way his heart leapt he could tell the doctor was there for him. He wanted his parents there with him but they got stuck in bad traffic. It seemed that as soon as he got the news the sky opened up and unleashed its fury, delaying them in getting to the hospital.

“Family of Mr. Rast?” The doctor said, looking around.

Trace jumped up. “He’s my grandfather. My mom and dad are stuck in traffic,” he said in a rush. “Is he OK? Is Granddad still alive?”

“What’s your name?” the doctor asked.

“Ju—er—Trace,” Trace replied.

“Trace,” the doctor repeated. Trace hated the way his name was said. He hated the way the doctor was looking at him. He hated the doctor altogether. He was unsettling and Trace could tell he was only going to give him bad news. “I’m Dr. Schneider. Your grandfather suffered a stroke but we have him in stable condition. He should be fine. However, there could be some side effects to his stroke.”

Trace’s heart fell. “What do you mean?”

Dr. Schneider sighed and crossed his hands on his clipboard. “The stroke was in the part of his brain that affects his memory, so some of his memory could be gone. Don’t be surprised if he starts up a conversation and completely forget about the conversation in the next five minutes.”

“And?” Trace egged on. Dr. Schneider lifted an eyebrow. “You have something else to say. I can tell.”

“We’re going to have to keep him here to run some tests on him, just to be sure we can release him. At the latest, he’ll be out in the next two days,” Dr. Schneider said.

“May I see him?” Trace asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“If you want to wait about five minutes, your parents are almost here,” Mack said, walking over to them, closing her phone.

“I’ll wait,” Trace told Dr. Schneider.

As soon as the doctor went off the trio fell into an uncomfortable silence. Of course, Rachel being Rachel, she’s the one who broke it by asking how Justin was doing. “Oh yeah,” Mack said, snapping her fingers. Then she deflated. “He sounded weird,” he told them. “He wasn’t himself.”

“What do you mean?” Trace asked, playing with his hat.

“I mean he sounded…defeated,” she replied. “It’s…I don’t know, that’s the only way I can describe it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming home. He can recharge his batteries, so to speak,” Rachel said. Rachel clicked her tongue when no one else said a word. “I’m going to get some coffee,” she announced but she didn’t expect a response. The response she got was a roll of thunder and a bright flash of lightning. Rachel smirked despite the situation at the apprehensive look on Mack’s face. If the thunderstorm didn’t kick start anything Rachel would.

She finally found her way to the cafeteria and, by the time she got there, she wasn’t in the mood for coffee anymore. She was on her way back when she spotted a familiar cowboy down the hallway. She gave a little laugh. “Cal, what’re you doing here? I figured you’d be making sure the horses were inside,” she said as she walked over to him. She hugged him tight and he dropped a kiss on her cheek.

“I heard what happened to Mr. Rast and I wanted to make sure everything was OK,” he replied, taking her hands. “How’s he doing?”

“It’s bad,” Rachel sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears. She looked Cal up and down. With his dark cowboy had, ripped and muddy jeans, and boots he really stood out against the pristine-white walls of the hospital. “The stroke affected his memory. The doctors say he’s stable and can get out soon but I can tell it’s tearing Trace up. He was fine earlier and now he’s in the hospital.” Rachel sadly shook her head and let Cal hold her while she rested her head against his strong chest. “It’s not fair, Cal. He’s a wonderful man, why does this have to happen to him? To their family? Why is God doing this?”

“The Lord has strange ways of getting people together,” Cal told her. “From the short time I knew Mr. Rast I could tell he was a strong man. He’ll make it through this. The Lord won’t give up on him and this will only bring their family closer together.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Rachel agreed, pulling away.

Cal beamed down at her. “There are always good things that come out of tragedies,” he added.

Rachel’s eyebrows furrowed. “It’s not entirely tragic, Cal, Mr. Rast didn’t die…”

“I know, but it’s tragic he’s sick. And driving here made me realize that I would be…lost if something were to happen to you. And I realize that a hospital is not the best place to do this but I can’t wait any longer and it wouldn’t be fair to make you wait, either.” He pulled a simple, shiny silver band out of his pocket. He got on one knee and held Rachel’s hand. “Rachel Bomar, will you marry me?”

“Of course!” Rachel said excitedly, bouncing on her toes. Cal slipped the band onto her ring finger and kissed her. She then playfully slapped his arm. “It’s about time you asked!”

“I just wanted to be reinforced that I was making the right decision,” Cal replied, taking her into his arms. “Mr. Rasts’s condition made me realize that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Me too,” Rachel agreed quietly.

“Mack, you’re making me nervous,” Rachel sighed, watching her friend pace the waiting room.

“I’m sorry! I hate storms,” Mack replied, biting her thumbnail. She jumped at the loud clap of thunder and fell onto a nearby chair, covering her ears with her hands.

“Well, maybe looking at my ring will help you calm down?” Rachel said as she held out her free hand. Her other hand was clasped to Cal’s as if they were stuck together with glue. Cal smiled and kissed the side of her head.

“Rachel you flash that ring in my face again, I’ll bite off your finger,” Mack grumbled, lowering her hands. Rachel quickly snatched her finger back. At the sound of footsteps the girls turned their heads to look down the hall. Trace was walking back towards them, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets and an odd look was in his eyes.

“Mr. Fletcher’s with him and my parents,” he said, his voice oddly hallow. “They said they’ll stay with him so we can go. They want us to get some sleep.”

“Well, we have been here for, like, three hours,” Rachel said with a little yawn.

“Rach, it’s only been an hour,” Cal corrected her.

“Really?” She asked, looking at the clock. “Well, damn. Let’s get some ice cream on the way home, then, babe.” She said, patting Cal’s knee and then standing. “Trace, I’m sure he’s going to be fine,” she said, giving him a big hug.

“Thanks Rach,” Trace mumbled, rubbing her back. “Thanks for coming, Cal,” he added, giving Cal a one-armed hug.

“Anytime,” Cal replied with a tip of his hat.

“Call me later,” Rachel said to Mack with a small wink. Mack made a face while Cal placed his hand on the small of Rachel’s back and led her out of the hospital.

Trace ran a hand through his hair. He turned to say something when he noticed Mack was holding out her hand. “What?” Trace asked.

“Give me the keys,” she replied, wiggling her fingers.

“Why?”

“Because you’re not going to drive in this condition.”

Trace let out a little laugh. “Mack, I’m not going to drive us into a ditch.”

“You might,” she replied.

“You have a better chance of driving us into a ditch, you rabbit,” he replied. “You’re so jumpy during storms, it wouldn’t surprise me if somehow the car ended up jumpy because it knew you were in it and jumped us right over the edge of a cliff.”

“Don’t be stupid, there are no cliffs around here.”

Trace blinked. “That’s the part you decide to zero in on?” He rolled his eyes. “I’m driving.”

“Trace, say something,” Mack said as she followed him into her house. He would’ve stopped at his but he knew how freaked she got during storms. Staying at her place by herself would’ve have been a smart move so he decided to stay with her. Especially since her parents wouldn’t be home until the next day because of the bad storm.

“Do you want pizza?” He asked, walking straight into the kitchen. He heard her following him into the kitchen as he grabbed the phone and dialed a number.

“What?” She asked, lifting her eyebrows and putting her hands on her hips.

“Pizza,” he repeated. “Do you want any?”

“You want pizza at a time like this?” She asked incredulously.

“Well, we haven’t eaten practically all day,” he replied, holding the phone up to his ear. “You like the philly cheestake kind, right?”

“Juan Ayala, you put down that phone, right now!” She ordered, pointing at him and doing her best to look intimidating. He merely raised an eyebrow. When he didn’t budge she stomped over to him, grabbed the phone, and disconnected the call.

“Well, if you weren’t hungry you should’ve said so.”

“Stop avoiding the damn subject! You’re upset, why won’t you say anything about it?”

“I’m not upset,” Trace replied.

“Bull,” she instantly shot back.

“He’s getting up there in age. Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later,” he reasoned.

“You’re not doing a good job of convincing me, Trace. This has to be hurting you even a little bit.”

“Nothing hurts as much as Sam leaving,” Trace replied. And then he closed his eyes at the words that he let escape. He swore he was over her but every now and then she came back into his mind. It wasn’t fair. She’s been gone for two years, when would he be able to forget about her. “You know, you think you know someone and then they turn on you and rip your heart out, like they didn’t care about you at all. Like you didn’t even fucking matter.” He angrily slapped his palm against the wall and she flinched. “I gave her two fucking years. Two fucking years of my life and she…she leaves me for him. I…I…fuck, I was going to ask her to marry me! And then she went and got knocked up and hoped I would understand. I’ve been hurt, I think I can handle my grandfather having a fucking stroke!”

He panted heavily from his outburst. His head started to pound slightly and he did his best to calm himself down. He almost jumped at the sudden brush of fingers across his face. He hadn’t noticed that Mack had stepped closer to him. She brushed the lone tear off of his cheek. The feel of his stubble tickled her palm. She rested her hand on his cheek and lightly rubbed it, seemingly mesmerized by the way his stubble moved under her palm. He stood still, closing his eyes at her touch. It’s been too long since he let someone of the opposite gender touch him like that.

So long since Sam.

Something in his stomach stirred. It intensified when he opened his eyes and saw the way she was looking at him. He could see pity and compassion. The green in her eyes stood out more than usual.

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” she told him, snapping him out of his thoughts. She dropped her hand and he almost whimpered when cool air brushed against his skin where her hand used to be. “It’s not good to keep stuff bottled up.”

Trace forced a smirk. “Coming from the biggest hypocrite on the planet.”

“I’m not a hypocrite. I cry and stuff in private,” she replied while wagging her finger as if scolding him.

He grabbed her finger and laughed when she tried to pull it out of his grasp. She huffed and wrinkled her nose. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. Then he tilted his head and kissed her cheek. Before he could stop himself he pressed his mouth against hers. He dropped her finger and was about to pull away but stopped when he felt her hands go to his waist and she stepped closer to him, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. He thought his heart would jump out of his chest once their bodies touched.

He brought up his hands and dug them into her hair, gently tugging at the strands that curled around his fingers as their lips moved together. A smirk formed on his lips when he felt her teeter closer. An action that caused her to pull away and look at him, annoyed.

“What’s so funny?” She asked breathlessly, her fingers going towards the buttons on his plaid button-down shirt.

“Need a lift?” He quipped, nodding at her standing on her tiptoes.

“Fine time to make fun of my height deficiency,” she mumbled, unbuttoning the last button and pushing the shirt off of his shoulders. “Damn Trace, since when do you work out?” She asked, running her hands up and down his sculpted chest.

His reply got caught in his throat when she bit down on his nipple. His cock jumped in his now suddenly-too-tight jeans. He grabbed her by the thighs and lifted her off the ground. She let out a little shriek but wrapped her legs around his lower back, holding onto him tight as he walked over to the island. He dumped her down onto the counter top and attached his lips to her neck.

“Oh god,” she moaned, digging her fingers into his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. She tilted her head to the side, giving him move access to her bare skin. “Trace,” she breathed as his tongue brushed against her neck.

“God, I love when you say my name like that,” he growled, grasping the hem of her t-shirt and tugging it up and over her head. Her arms dropped back around his neck as their lips sought out the other. Their tongues slid against each other, as if searching through the other’s mouth. He pulled away while his fingers fumbled at the back of her bra. Her breath was hot against his cheek. Her body felt alive in ways she didn’t know possible. She liked the feeling of being in his arms, feeling safe and protected.

And needed.

Her eyes popped open at the feeling of her bra snap opening. “Wait, wait, wait,” she said, lightly pushing on Trace’s chest.

“What? Am I going too fast?” Trace asked. His voice was raspy, filled with lust.

“No, but I’m not having sex with you on my kitchen counter,” Mack replied, swallowing when he kissed her bare shoulder. “So, if you want me to take care of this…” she paused to grab at his bulge in his pants. He let out a hiss and lightly bit her shoulder. “You’ll find a better place—whoa!”

Trace lifted her up again and took the stairs two at a time. With each step her warm center rubbed against his cock through their jeans. By the time they reached his bedroom her head was spinning at the need of wanting to have him inside of her.

Trace kicked the door shut with his heel and set her down on the ground. He grunted when his back connected with the door but he didn’t complain when he felt her bare chest press up against his. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, gently this time. Loving. Her lips moved slowly against his and he took in every caress, every touch. His hands went to the dip in her back and explored every inch of exposed, warm skin within his reach. He moved his lips to her neck while bringing his hands to her front. He squeezed her breasts and she arched her back in response, pressing against him. A gasp tumbled from her mouth when he pinched the sensitive and pebble-hard nipples.

Getting fed up; she slapped his hands out of the way and went for the button on his jeans. He grabbed her hand and stopped her. “Getting a little antsy, eh?” He asked with a teasing smile.

“You’re taking too damn long,” she replied, now going for her own button. He placed a hand on her shoulder and backed her up until the back of her knees hit the bed and she fell backward onto his dark comforter. He unbuttoned her jeans and grasped the hem, sliding them down her legs. Once they were off completely he kissed her stomach and pulled her underwear down. He stuck his finger between her slick folds and she bit her bottom lip.

“You’re wet already?” He chuckled, inserting a finger inside of her. She squirmed against his hand as he slowly pushed in and pulled out.  She felt like a warm, slick glove surrounding his digit. He pulled his finger out and she let out a whimper of disappointment, lifting herself up onto her elbows.

He fumbled to undo his belt and dropped it to the ground, where it hit with a heavy thud. He hooked his thumbs into the waist band of his jeans and boxer-briefs and tugged those down as well. His hand immediately went to his hard cock which stood at attention. “So.” He grinned down at her. “Tell me, what do you want?”

Her lip curled in annoyance as he slowly stroked himself. He knew exactly what she wanted and he knew she would be too proud to say it, beg for it even. She wanted him so badly but she didn’t want to say the words, not if she had to see that stupid smirk come to her face.

“I want you,” she practically whimpered. “Trace, please.”

He paused and pretended to think it over. “Sorry, darlin’, but that’s not good enough,” he said in his thick southern drawl. She glared at him but her eyes quickly widened and her jaw slacked when he pressed his thumb against her swollen clit. “Tell me what you want me to do to you. I want to hear you say it,” he said as he rubbed it in a circle, very slowly.

“Trace,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“Yes?”

“God, Trace, I can’t say it!” She snarled. Her mind was swimming. She couldn’t concentrate. She needed him in her now.

“Really? You can’t? A few minutes ago you weren’t so shy about what you wanted,” he teased.

“Trace, come on!” She begged, pushing her hips into his hand.

Much as he wanted to hear her beg some more, he didn’t have any more self-control left in him. And with that he climbed on top of her and thrust himself into her. He felt her walls squeeze him as soon as he slipped in and they both let out strangled moans at the feeling of being intimate with each other. As he moved her hands went from his hair to his back to his buttocks and to his thighs, pulling his hips closer. She pulled and clawed at him, biting into his shoulders in an abandoned display of desire.

Soon he felt her body tense beneath him. He continued to push into her, trying to hold back his own climax, but it felt like swimming against a tide. He held on a bit longer before he finally came, biting hard into her shoulder. He slowly pulled out of her but rested his sweaty body ontop of hers. She gently stroked his hair as their warm breath mixed together, slowly returning to their normal breathing.

“Whoa,” Trace muttered.

Mack smirked. “That’s the only thing you can say?”

“Well, that and why didn’t we do this sooner,” he replied and kissed the side of her head.

“How much sooner are you talkin’?”

“Since we reached puberty,” he replied with a little laugh, reaching to grab at the discarded covers.

“”Cause I hated your guts.”

“And what about now?” He asked as he pulled the covers over them.

“Well—“ her response was cut in half by a loud clap of thunder. She let out a little squeak and buried her face into his chest. He smiled against the side of her head and held her close, loving the feeling of her naked body pressing against his. “Well, let’s just say you’re more useful now.”

It’s amazing how dead Trace was to the world once he was asleep. Mack practically fell out of her bed the next morning, stumbled around to find clothes, basically knocked everything over in the bathroom, and moved their clothes from downstairs into the laundry just in case her parents came back early and spotted it in the kitchen. That was one conversation she didn’t want to have with them nor wanted to talk about with anyone. Ever.

She didn’t even understand what last night meant, herself. With Justin she knew for a fact it was only because she was lonely and craved a man’s touch. With him it was basically rushing to see who could get relief first and that was it. With Trace…he was more caring about how she was feeling and paid more attention to her. She felt something different when she was in bed with him. She felt loved.

And that freaked her out.

She got a pot of coffee ready. If anything was going to wake him up it would be the strong smell of coffee. Then she could kick his ass out and try to figure out what it was exactly that she was feeling. With any luck he’d be out before her parents got home or Rachel decided to drop in unannounced like she always did.

She walked into the kitchen and grabbed the remote off of the coffee table. She clicked on the power button and had sat down for all of five seconds when MTV News popped up. Her mouth fell open at the words that were coming from the announcer’s mouth but they wouldn’t process in her head.

She jumped when her cell phone rang and she scrambled to get. She briefly checked the screen and then connected the call.

 “Justin?” She said breathlessly. She found it hard to breathe the longer she listened to the newscast.

“Mack.”

“Did you see--?” Her voice trailed off.

“Yeah,” Justin whispered.

“I can’t believe it…”

“Me either.” Justin shook his head. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“It’s crazy. Almost a year after—“

“Aaliyah,” the two said in unison. An eerie calm fell over the line. No one was talking on either side; they stared at the TV as the reporters droned on about the death of Left Eye. Justin’s ears buzzed. The words weren’t making sense to him at all. He couldn’t believe them. There was no way someone as energetic, driven, inspiring, and caring as Left Eye could be gone…just like that…

“Justin? You still here?”

He swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

“J—“

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

“…only a few more days.”

“Can’t wait.”

She swore she could see him smile through the phone.

Maybe everything will work out.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday.

The days seemed to blend together until, the next thing Justin knew, he and his friends were in a van traveling from Tuncia, Mississippi to Memphis, Tennessee. Justin basically floated from the bus and into the van, he was so happy to be getting home. He had talked to Rachel earlier and she said that everyone was excited to have him back.

“You should see our mothers! They’re going out of their way to get this…huge feast for you guys,” Rachel laughed over the sound of moving dishes.

“Rachel! Get off your ass and help us clean these things!” Justin heard Mack yell in the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, I can’t lift this hand. It’s weighed down too much. It takes too much energy,” Rachel teased.

Justin grinned and stretched in his seat. Johnny had rented them a large ten passenger van he could stretch out as much as he wanted. Next to him JC was sleeping soundly, thick headphones covered his ears. He could faintly hear a Sting song playing. Chris, and Lance were playing cards on a seat a few rows ahead of him and Joey was humming to himself while driving. “I still can’t believe you’re engaged,” Justin mused. “Time flies, huh?”

“You’re telling me,” Rachel laughed. “Momma and Auntie Lynn have been crying non-stop since they’ve found out.”

“Oh no!” Justin groaned while laughing. “Now that means Momma will be all over my ass trying to get me together with someone.” He felt a tiny pang of ache in his chest. He thought for the longest time that it was going to be Britney that he’d marry. What now? He hadn’t thought of her for days but now that he had time to, he was missing her something fierce.

He missed her smile. Her laugh. Her voice. Everything about her. What he missed the most was that he was with someone who was like him in many ways and understood what he was going through and how he lived his life. Without her he felt…empty. Like half of himself was gone and he didn’t know where to start looking to find it.

“As soon as you set foot in town every single woman here will vie for your attention, you mark my words,” Rachel laughed. Justin could practically see the smile on her face. “Speaking of being single, Brett’s been all over Mack since she came back here.”

“Oh really?” Justin lifted his eyebrows. Brett wasn’t really a bad guy. Justin liked him enough and he was Trace’s friend so he couldn’t say much about him but he hated how much of a flirt Brett was. Justin’s seen that type of personality first hand, Joey used to be that way and he knew it’d only end in someone getting hurt. “How’s that goin’ for her?”

“She’s holdin’ her own. She ignores him for the most part and Trace usually intervenes just in case she decides to let him know in her own special way that he’s not interested,” Rachel replied.

“Rachel! Stop talking about me! I’m not deaf!” Justin heard Mack yell.

Justin laughed. “Yeah, I’ll bet. So who’s house are we meeting at again?”

“Miss Cassidy’s. Trace is at work so he’ll most likely come in after you guys,” Rachel explained. “I’ll give him a call once you all come in. Stephen and Jonathan can’t wait to see you! It’s so cute how excited they are.”

Justin sighed. “Don’t remind me, I miss ‘em so much.”

“Sorry, sorry. I won’t bring it up. I gotta go.”

“Alrighty. See you in a half hour.”

“See ya, cuzzo.”

“Bye.” Justin hung up the phone and made a face right as JC opened his eyes and yawned.

“What’s wrong?” JC asked, noticing the look on Justin’s face.

“Nothing. It’s just, uh, Rachel sounded funny,” Justin replied, scratching his head. Her voice did sound a bit off.

But maybe he was reading too much into it.

“Do you know how hard it is to keep my mouth shut?” Rachel asked as soon as she hung up the phone.

Mack shook the soap bubbles off of her hands and wiped them in a dish towel. She leaned against the sink and lifted an eyebrow at her friend. “You wouldn’t have to if you didn’t go barging into people’s houses without knocking,” she replied. “It was five days ago, get over it. I already have.”

“I’m sorry that I want to hold onto the idea of you and Trace having bumped uglies,” she said as she leaned back in the chair she was sitting in. “I just can’t believe it. So, what does this mean?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Mack replied, throwing the towel at her. “You’re making a huge deal out of nothing. I slept with Justin too and you weren’t over the moon about that.”

“That’s because I thought you guys slept together already,” Rachel replied. At the roll of her friends’ eyes she threw her arms into the air. “All of us assumed that, it wasn’t just me. And Justin doesn’t like you like Trace does so it had to mean something.”

“Rachel, just drop it,” Mack grumbled. She didn’t want to talk about it. At all. For the past five days she and Trace had been civil towards each other but something was off and she couldn’t put her finger on it. It sucked ‘cause she didn’t feel like she could talk to him about anything anymore, not even about his grandfather still being in the hospital and she knew it was tearing him up inside, even if he didn’t say anything about it.

He had woken up and everything seemed fine but they could tell he wouldn’t be the same again. His speech was slower than usual and it was harder for Mr. Rast to form a complete thought. Once or twice he even forgot Trace’s name. He remembered their relationship just fine but it was the name that kept slipping him and it made Trace upset, even if he weren’t visibly reacting. The girls could tell.

“Okay. Are you going to enter that riding competition after all?” Rachel asked.

Mack nodded. “I figured why not? I haven’t ridden in a while and I’m sure Bluebelle’s up for a competition. I just wish I had more time. Want to ride after dinner?”

“Sure. Mind if I invite Cal?”

She shrugged. “The more the merrier. How’re wedding plans coming along? I know you’ve only been engaged for five days but—“ She stopped in the middle of her sentence when Rachel eagerly reached into the bag she brought and placed a large binder onto the table, grinning widely. “Good night, girl!”

“Mack, I’ve been planning my wedding since I was seven,” she explained. “I’m not missing any detail. And you, my Maid of Honor, are going to help me go through everything.”

“Wheee,” Mack muttered through a stiff smile. Her stomach drops at the idea of having to sit with Rachel, the Queen of Indecisiveness. Mack glances at the clock and wonders if she has enough time to make a break for it and run to her house without giving Rachel a chance to catch up. She has that heavy book with her, it would surely slow her down…

Before Rachel could even utter another word, the sounds of the front door opening and footsteps moving rapidly reached their ears. Both girls leaned over slightly to see who was coming in. Cassidy rushes in, her arms filled with brown paper bags that she manages to dump on the island.

“Phew!” She sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. “Made it! I thought I was going to drop these for sure.” She then turned her attention to the girls and gave them big hugs and a kiss on their foreheads. “What’s that you got there, Rach?” She asked.

“Wedding plans, Miss Cassidy,” Rachel replied. “Mack and I were going to get started on ‘em but we can help with the groceries if you want.”

“That’d be splendid, darlin’,” Cassidy said as she smoothed down her flyaway hair with her hands. “There’s a lot more in the truck. Char and Lynn are already out there helpin’ Trace. I’d be much obliged if you’d give ‘em a hand.”

“Yes ma’am,” Rachel said while getting up. Mack silently thanked every single God out there for saving her from wedding torture as the two girls walked through the house and out the front door where Trace’s truck was parked in the driveway next to Cassidy’s red Acura Sports Wagon. “Justin says they’ll be here in half an hour,” she announced happily while reaching for the bag that Trace as handing her from the back of his truck.

“That doesn’t give us much time!” Charlotte said as she started towards the house. “Aren’t you glad to have him home?”

“You have no idea,” Lynn replied with a large smile on her face.  “I’m always excited whenever he comes back around. He says he has something important he wants to talk to me about…” her voice trailed off as the two women stepped into the house.

“Now why is it that Justin gets a welcome home party and I get diddly?” Mack demanded.

“That’s ‘cause no one knew you were coming home, idiot,” Trace replied, practically throwing a bag at her. She glared at him but he turned to get another one. If that was how he was going to be…

“I don’t think you heard me,” Rachel jumped in. “Your best friend is going to be here in a half hour!”

“Cool,” Trace muttered, pausing to wipe sweat from his brow.

“You’re not even excited that your best friend is going to be back in town after months of being on tour?” Rachel demanded, putting her free hand on her hip.

“Do you want me to click my heels together?” Trace asked, lifting his eyebrow. “I’m used to the routine, that’s all. It’s nothing new to me.” He jumped out of the back of the truck and adjusted the hat that was on his head. “So, are we going to do the usual? Apple picking? Pool?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Rachel said in a distracted tone. “Hey, you mind checking on the cookies I put in the oven?” She asked, turning to Mack. She shrugged and turned and then walked into the house. “You two are so awkward around each other it’s making me feel weird,” Rachel said to Trace.

Trace scoffed. She wouldn’t feel weird if she hadn’t barged in. Something that he realized they could’ve prevented if they weren’t so close. They gave each other keys to their places so they could get in whenever they wanted or in case of an emergency.

He had woken up to an empty bed the next morning after his night with Mack with every intention of getting his stuff and going straight to work. He didn’t want to give himself enough time to think about what happened. As soon as his brain started processing everything he knew it would end badly. He had snuck down to the kitchen, covering himself up with a towel, had his clothes and was about to make a break for it when Rachel dropped by unannounced.

“You know you’re lucky she got her period the day after or else you’d have a problem,” she pointed out.

“Like I didn’t think of that,” Trace said with a roll of his eyes. “Look, do me a favor and don’t mention this. At all. Especially with Justin coming back.”

“You know he’d want to know about this.”

“And I’ll tell him, just let me do it on my own terms.”

“You sound ashamed of what you did. When it comes down to it two people had sex, that’s it,” Rachel said, trying to make the conversation feel less awkward. Even she had a hard time believing the words that were coming out of her mouth so she doubted that Trace believed her. They turned their heads when they heard a honk and watched a van pull onto the gravel side of the road. “Oh look, drama just rolled into town!”

While stepping out of the van to stretch his legs Justin felt like he was hit with a ton of bricks. He was back in Memphis. He was home. A month ago he didn’t think the day would ever come but now he was standing in his best friend’s front yard in his home town, taking in the familiar scent that was Memphis, Tennessee as well as feeling the familiar beating sun.

And he loved it.

“Cuzzo!” Rachel exclaimed happily. Justin laughed at her nickname for him and her halfway in the yard for a big hug. Justin let out a breath and held her tight. It was as if, in that breath, all of his worries and his stress were let go and floated around in the atmosphere. “What took you so long?” She asked, slapping his arm as soon as he pulled away. “Our mothers are basically going nuts with excitement.”

Justin laughed and rubbed his arm. “We had to stop a couple of times because someone had to get the burrito extreme,” he replied, looking pointedly at Joey who had come up next to him.

“Hey, those ‘combo’ meals at Taco Bell don’t fill me up with only their three dinky little tacos,” Joey replied with a roll of his eyes. Then he grabbed Rachel in a large hug and lifted her off the ground. She laughed hysterically as he swung her to and fro, her legs twisting behind her.

Smiling, Justin walked over to Trace. “How’s it going man?” He asked, holding out his hand. Trace clasped hands with him before leaning forward and patting each other on the backs.

“It’s going good,” Trace replied with a nod of his head and shielding his eyes from the sun. “The moms are going crazy waiting for your return. I thanked God every day that I had a job to get to so I didn’t have to listen to them worship the ground you walk on all the time,” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, whatever man,” Justin said with a laugh, lightly shoving him on the arm. His smile was so big he was surprised bugs weren’t flying into his mouth. He was just so happy. He felt like he could float. Now he knew what people meant whenever they talked about Cloud 9. “Jonathan and Steven? Do they know I’m coming home today?” He asked, running a hand over his short hair.

Trace shook his head. “Everyone wanted to keep it a surprise. They should come over after school is finished.”

Justin nodded and spat on the ground. “Oh, I can’t wait to see them,” he sighed. “I just…I want to hug them again. I missed them so much.”

“And they missed you too, bro,” Trace replied. “Come on, we have lemonade and cookies for all of you.” He then turned to the van where the guys were pulling out their bags. “I can show you guys where to put that stuff,” he called out to them. He looked back at Justin. “Mom says they can either all stay at Lynn’s place or they can stay at mine.”

“Momma’ll want ‘em at mine. I swear she likes them more than she likes me,” Justin laughed as they began walking across the front yard. “Oof!” he cried out when Rachel took a running leap and landed on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I didn’t miss that,” he grunted, hooking his arms under her legs. “Have you let yourself go since you got engaged?” He asked and then swore loudly when Rachel smacked him hard on the head. “Girl! What’s your problem?” He asked as soon as they crossed the threshold into the Ayala house.

“Now what did I tell you about that swearing?” Lynn asked in a scolding tone as she walked into the foyer. She let out a gleeful laugh as Justin let his cousin go and hugged his mother. He squeezed his eyes tight and took in her familiar scent of perfume.

This was what he missed. Being held in her arms and gently rocked, having her fingers run through his hair. Well, when he had hair. Knowing that in her hug everything would be okay and that’s what he really needed. To know that everything would be okay.

“How’re you feeling?” Lynn asked, holding his face in her hands.

“Hungry,” Justin replied with a smile. “Oh…” she lightly patted his cheek. “Go on, we have snacks in the kitchen. Dinner might be a little late,” she said before moving to hug JC who was the next one to come into the house.

He felt Trace lightly nudge his arm before following voices and laughter into the kitchen. He paused in the doorway and laughed at the sort of chaos that his eyes landed on. Egg shells lying on the counter, flower and batter on the countertop by a large bowl, juice, sodas, and cookies stacked up on the kitchen table, a plethora of boxes and wrappers on the floor as well as pots boiling on the stove.

Justin paused and took in the scene of the laughing women as they moved around the kitchen getting things cooked and ready for him and his friends. It reminded him of his childhood so much that he wished he could freeze-frame the scene and burn it into his memory for the rest of his life. He wasn’t so sure how he was going to leave in the next two weeks.

“Justin, it’s so good to see you again! Did you get taller? I swear, you don’t stop growing!” Cassidy said happily as she hugged him.

“No, I’m the same size Miss Cass,” Justin replied before turning to hug Charlotte and then his aunt Abigail. “Maybe you’re the one getting smaller,” he teased, placing a hand on top of her head.

“Oh don’t tease an old woman.”

Justin chuckled and then turned his attention to the one silent person in the room. He twisted his mouth to the side. The last time they talked they fought and she ran away. He was worried she’d do the same now, especially after what had happened. He hadn’t forgotten what they did that night and why he did it. He was just hoping they could maybe forget about it and move on and make things go back to normal, but he knew it would be hard. She held grudges, long grudges, and it was worse that he didn’t know exactly what he did to make her run so it would be harder for him to apologize which was what he knew she wanted.

He stepped behind her and cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said quietly. He was suddenly aware of how quiet it had become in the room. Taking a quick look over his shoulder her noticed that he was alone. In the kitchen. With her. With sharp objects everywhere.

That wasn’t their brightest idea in the world.

Mack turned and brushed her hair off her shoulder with her ear. “Hey,” she said with a half smile. Justin could tell instantly that it was forced. It didn’t reach her eyes like her normal smiles did. “I’d hug you but I have goop fingers,” she said with a little laugh, lifting her fingers from the bowl where she was squishing ground beef through her fingers. “How was the car ride?”

Her tone seemed light and normal but her words were short and clipped. Justin sighed. And she’s still mad at me, great. Maybe if I can make her laugh things will be fine. “It was fine. At least up until we stopped at Taco Bell for Joey. It was like we were stuck in a gas chamber the rest of the way here,” he said with a small smile on his face.

Mack let out what sounded like a laugh and a snort. “Same ol’ Joey,” she said, shaking her head. “See, that’s why you avoid places with spicy food or with raw onions whenever you’re going on a trip with him. You should try Subway next time. He still gets what he wants but then you can see what’s going in his food to minimize the gas attack.”

“See, this is why we needed you on tour,” Justin said, taking the plunge while sitting down on one of the stools that was next to the island in the middle of the kitchen. He kept his eyes focused on her back, waiting for her response. He hated this, hated not knowing what she was thinking and how she was going to react. They used to be called The Twins for a reason, he almost always knew what she was going to say before she would say it, she could practically feel what she was feeling but now it was like a void.

And all because he had slept with her.

Did he regret it? He didn’t know. He woke up the next morning at odds with himself for what he did and how far he let things go. They had been talking about their relationships and everything and the next thing he knew they were kissing and undressing each other.

“Everything fell to pieces…after you left,” he tried again, this time picking at his nails to avoid looking at her. “You even got JC to freak out. We were worried. Why didn’t you say anything to us?”

She scoffed. “Have you ever tried talking to a brick wall?” She asked.

“No,” Justin replied slowly as if she were crazy.

“You should. Then you’d know how I felt around you guys after a while. Like everything I said was falling on deaf ears.” She gave a little bitter laugh. “You know, it sucks going on tour with people who you call your friends and they don’t want anything to do with you, no matter how hard you try.” She shrugged. “I got tired of putting in the effort to get nothing in return.”

Justin opened and closed his mouth, struggling to find the right words, but he knew, ultimately, that wasn’t the entire reason that she left. There was something else that she wasn’t saying. He wanted to know but he wouldn’t push it. He got something out of it.

“I…I didn’t realize—“

“Of course you didn’t,” she said as she turned around to look at him and lifted her eyebrows. “You have your career and four others to worry about. My petty problems aren’t that important on your spectrum. It’s okay, I get it.”

“Obviously not because I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me because of that. I’m miffed, pissed even, but I’m not hurt. I realize that you can’t pay attention to me all the time. It was the end of the tour, what did you need me for, really? I think about a year on the road dealing with me should settle into your brains by then.” She gave a teasing smile.

Justin relaxed. She was slowly starting to get back to her teasing self, which he could deal with. It was in that moment he realized just how much he missed her. He missed her waking him up every morning and then laugh at how disoriented he was in the mornings. He missed the way her nose wrinkled when she was confused or having trouble understanding something. He missed the way her lips pursed when she was annoyed with them all or because they did something stupid, which just so happened to occur at least five times in one day.

“Can I hug you now or…?” he asked slowly. He didn’t want to take the chance that she’d shove an egg down his pants or something.

“If you want to risk my goop fingers, sure,” she replied with a shrug.

He let out a little sigh and eagerly pulled her towards him, hugging her small frame tight as she held her arms out to make sure she didn’t get ground beef remains on his shirt. He gently rubbed her back while burying his face in her neck, taking in her vanilla and cinnamon scent. As soon as he pulled away—far enough so he could look at her—every shred of common sense he had flew out the window and he kissed her.

He knew it was a stupid thing to do. He knew it would somehow turn around and bite him in the ass, but goddammit he missed her like crazy. A shiver rolled down his spine as soon as his lips touched hers and all of his senses seemed to ignite. He didn’t remember that last time they kissed.

“Whoa,” she muttered as soon as he pulled away from her. “I, um, have to get this started,” she muttered, turning back to the ground beef. “I think, uh, I think everyone’s out on the porch.”

“Mack—“

“I have to get this started so dinner’s not late.”

The edge in her voice signaled the end of the conversation, it always did. “Okay,” Justin said quietly, and turned to leave the kitchen. On his way out he lightly touched his lips and let out a soft groan.

Rachel’s sides hurt from laughing so hard at the stories the guys were telling as soon as dinner winded down. Now they were walking around the neighborhood, to walk off what they had eaten so they could get back for the dessert: pecan pie, blueberry cobbler, peach cobbler, ice cream, cookies, cake, and all of the strawberries they could eat.

“I can’t believe you did that Chris,” Rachel sighed as soon as she calmed down.

“You should, it’s what Chris is known for,” Lance replied, lightly elbowing the oldest member.

“Where are we going again?” Joey spoke up.

“Nowhere in particular. We’re just walking around until we feel it’s safe to go back and eat,” Trace replied.

“We can stop by the barn. Cal’s shift should be over soon,” Rachel suggested. “He might let us ride a little. And Mack, you can show ‘em what you have planned for the competition.”

“What competition?” JC asked.

“You’ve decided to enter?” Trace questioned, lifting his eyebrows. It was the first time he’d addressed her since the others got home, Rachel couldn’t help but notice. He was a chatterbox with the others but he hadn’t said anything to her.

“I figured I might as well since I have nothing else to do,” Mack replied with a shrug and then she slowed her pace so she was walking next to JC and hooked their arms. “There’s a big horse show competition thing coming up in about a week that I want to enter. I know I’m a little rusty for not having ridden in a while but I think it’ll be fun. Now you guys can see me in my element.”

“And maybe we can get them on a horse,” Rachel agreed with a laugh. “And see how they do when they’re not on a stage in front of a lot of people.”

“I’m in. Sounds like fun,” Lance said with a smile.

“Me too. Can we get one that matches our personalities?” Joey asked.

“Does that mean Justin gets a donkey?” Chris joked.

“Shut up, man! I have my own horse,” Justin said, shoving him.

“What about you, C?” Mack asked, smiling at him.

JC always wondered what it was about her that got him to give into her ways. He would stand against her wishes for the first couple of minutes but he’d eventually give in, like always. A few times he’s caught himself wondering why he agreed, especially that one instance where she convinced him to ditch their security for a fun day in the city. Boy, did he get his ear talked off by Johnny for that one. Since then he’s vowed not to go along with any of her wacky plans.

But, of course, she was the one thing he’s come to find that he couldn’t resist.

JC wiped sweat from his brow for what seemed to be the millionth time since their plane touched down at the airport. Why did it seem like the sun was hotter in the South, even when it was going down? No one seemed to be affected by the heat at all, just him.

“How much longer?” Chris asked, trailing behind the walking group after a few more minutes of walking.

“Just a few more minutes,” Justin replied without turning around.

“Couldn’t we have just taken a car? We would’ve been there by now.”

And we would’ve been out of the heat, JC wanted to say but he kept his mouth shut. They were guests so it would be polite of them to go with the flow. But what could the car hurt? It had AC after all.

“It’s only five minutes away, you wusses. Man up,” Mack replied. She had a stern tone to her voice but a teasing look in her eyes. An expression that seemed to be permanently fused to her eyes. She always seemed to take life as a big joke. “I’m a bigger man than you guys are and I don’t have any man bits, thankfully.”

Chris stood up straighter and started walking faster at her words. Joey snickered and elbowed Lance while Mack smirked. She always seemed to have the best “motivational speeches” for them.

“Here we are!” Rachel said happily as a big red barn loomed into view. An old sign swayed in the light wind that skimmed the city. It creaked with every sway but it held on fast to the metal beam it was fastened to. Fletcher Family Farm, the sign read.

JC winced at the smell of straw and manure. He looked around to see if the others had noticed. Judging by the way Joey and Chris were both wrinkling their noses he wasn’t the only one who got a whiff of the sour smell. Of course Lance and the other two were used to it, being from the South.

It’s weird how split the group was. JC hadn’t noticed it before until now. Half of them were from the country and half of them were from the city. He never fully understood the term “culture shock” before now. They’ve only been there for two days and JC’s already felt the major differences. The city is usually filled with individuals, people looking out for themselves. But he’s seen on many occasions down in the South that everyone looks out for everyone, that family and togetherness rules above everything else.

He tried to take everything in and give it a chance but he felt too out of place. It didn’t help that, while there, Lance seemed to become Justin’s new go-to guy when that used to be JC. He wasn’t jealous, it just felt weird not to be the first one that Justin would turn to.

“Hey Cal,” Rachel called, waving at her fiancé. He tipped his black cowboy hat in greeting.

“I was wondering what was keepin’ ya,” he said while walking over to the group. “Justin, good to have you back,” he nodded at him and then they clasped hands. “Trace.” He clasped hands with him as well. “Little Miss,” he added to Mack who gave him a hug.

“Little Miss?” Joey repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“Long story,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Cal, these are our friends Joey, Chris, JC, and Lance.”

“Pleasure.

“We dropped by to show them around and see if we have time to ride a bit before we go back for dessert. You’re invited, of course,” Rachel said before kissing his cheek.

“Shouldn’t be a problem, Ray,” he replied. Then he addressed the group. “Are you guys ready to ride some horses?” Cal asked, turning his head to nod into the stables where the sounds of neighing met the air. He got random head nods and he led the group into the stables with a tilt of two of his fingers. “I can pick out horses for you based on experience. The horses are all sweethearts so you don’t have to worry about being bucked off or anything.”

“That idea makes me feel so much better,” Chris mumbled.

“Well, as long as you don’t pull on their hair you’re fine,” Mack said with a little pep in her step. “They’re like women; their hair is something you don’t mess with.” She turned her attention to Justin who called her name and the two disappeared around the corner of the stables.

“Where are they going?” Joey asked.

Trace looked in the direction they had just ran. “Oh, they’re probably going to see their horses,” he replied. Rachel’s eyebrows moved up a little at the tone in his voice before the two walked off to find their own horses.

“They own them?” JC asked, lifting his eyebrows.

Cal nodded. “For a few years now.” He stopped by a box where a pure white horse with blonde hair. She nudged Cal’s arm with her nose and tossed her head. “This is Honey,” he said while digging into his pocket. He found a star-shaped carrot and fed the horse. “She likes to take things a bit slower than the other horses so I think she’ll be perfect for JC.” Cal turned to JC. “You’ve ridden before? Even if you haven’t, Honey’s good with beginners.”

“I’ve ridden once or twice,” he replied, walking over to the box. Honey leaned towards his hand and he rubbed her velvety soft nose. She didn’t move an inch as she stared at him. JC could feel her stare all the way down to his toes, it was so piercing.

“Ahhh, I knew you’d get Honey,” Justin commented, walking over with a rich brown and white colored horse.

“Who’s this one?” JC asked.

“This is Lucky,” Justin replied, looking up at the horse. “He’s not really ‘mine’ but I ride him the most.” He turned when he heard the distinct sound of clip-clopping and watched as Rachel, Trace, and Mack came from around the corner on top of their horses.

“How’s it feel to finally see the top of my head?” JC joked at Mack who stuck her tongue out at him. “So what’s the plan?”

“We can ride the trails and then Mack can practice a bit and then we can go back. Sound good?” Rachel suggested. She got random replies. “Okay then, let’s go!”

“I don’t think I can sit down,” Joey groaned, rubbing his inner thighs.

“Just be glad you didn’t ride bareback,” Cal laughed, leaning against the circular fence. “At least you spent most of your time in the saddle.”

“As opposed to on the ground like Chris?” JC laughed. “Who knew the horse could drag you that far?”

“Ha ha,” Chris muttered, wiping dirt off of his face. “That horse was the devil, I’m telling you.”

“Nah, it just saw you coming,” Trace joked. Justin cracked up and gave him a high five. Things felt a bit odd when he first came back but now they were back in their groove. It always took a bit to get back on track whenever he returned home.

“How’s your grandfather doing?” Justin asked as Rachel rode by them.

“S’fine,” Trace replied with a shrug. “He could be better but he’s alive and that’s all I care about.”

Justin nodded. “So, uh, how have things been here?” He asked slowly.

Trace looked at him before moving his eyes back to the pen. “If you’re asking what I’m sure you’re asking she didn’t say anything about you.” Thankfully, he thought somewhat bitterly. “She just went straight to work as soon as she came back. Hasn’t been dancing either, she says she might stop. That she’s done all she wanted to do with it and wants to move on.”

Justin’s eyebrows crinkled. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

Trace shrugged. “How would you know? You haven’t been here,” he pointed out.

Justin opened his mouth to protest but he stopped. “Yeah…I guess you’re right,” he replied.

“They’re talking about you again,” Rachel commented as she adjusted the gloves that were snug around her hands. She looked in the boys’ direction as they leaned on the circular pen. She waved at Cal and blew him a kiss. He winked and touched the brim of his hat.

“You two make me sick,” Mack commented, adjusting her helmet while Bluebelle stomped at the ground.

“You’re avoiding the interesting subject at hand,” Rachel said with a grin, walking her horse –Tricky—over to her friend’s side. “Let’s say you’re an ice cream sundae—“

“Here we go,” Mack sighed.

Rachel ignored her. “You want something special on top. Do you want hot Trace sauce or Justin cream?” Mack lifted her eyebrows. “Hot fudge sauce, whipped cream,” she explained, lifting and lowering her hands as if she were weighing her options. “You can only have one topping. Which do you want?”

“Rach, I didn’t come back here to worry about that.”

“But you said Justin kissed you!”

“I came back here to get some time away and figure out what I want to do with my life. And, right now, I want to do this and get away from you,” Mack continued, firmly, and then urged Bluebelle forward.

Rachel settled in her saddle and chuckled. “She’s so stubborn, isn’t she Tricky?” She asked, rubbing her horse’s head. “This shall prove to be a very interesting two weeks.” She held her reigns tight and watched as Mack moved Bluebelle over to the start of the jumping course. Rachel tensed every time her friend took on a jump higher than the last one. She couldn’t help it, she always got nervous. She was never brave enough to take on jumping; dressage was her skill of choice. It was slower and was more about technique than jumping. “You were learning forward in the saddle too far,” Rachel told her.

Mack punched herself in the thigh. “That’s always been my biggest problem,” she sighed, gripping the reigns. She placed a hand to shield her eyes as she looked at the setting sun in the distance. “Okay, I’m going to go around once more then we can head back. I’m sure Chris wants to eat his arm by now.”

Rachel wrinkled her nose. “With all that hair?”

“When Chris gets hungry it doesn’t matter what’s in his way, he’ll eat it.”

Rachel sighed and watched her take on the series of jumps again. She winced at the metal clang and felt a scream rip from her throat at the thud of Mack hitting the ground hard. She dropped down from Tricky and ran over to her friend who had rolled onto her back and was breathing funny. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” Rachel asked breathlessly.

“No,” Mack replied, her face scrunched up in pain. “My knee! Oh, my knee!”

“What happened?” Trace asked breathlessly as he dropped to his knees by Mack’s side. Once Cal reached her he quickly assessed the situation and grasped her leg.

“Bluebelle didn’t clear the jump and Mack fell,” Rachel replied.

“Quick, take off her helmet,” Joey suggested, standing over them.

“No! Don’t do that, it could make a head injury worse,” JC advised.

“She hurt her knee, not her head.”

“You can’t be too sure.”

“Okay, does this hurt?” Cal asked as he slowly pushed on her leg to contract at the knee.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Mack cried out. “It hurts so bad.”

“Do you think it’s a sprain?” Justin asked.

Cal scratched his head. “Hard to say. Might be dislocated. Might be a break.”

“A break?” Mack repeated. “No! It can’t be broken! I have a competition! I have to dance!”

“What about walking?” Lance asked dryly.

“That too.”

“It’s just a guess, lil’ lady, I’m not a doctor,” Cal reminded her. “But we should get you to one. I’ll bring Bluebelle in. Otherwise you all can help her.”

“I’ll help,” Justin and Trace said in unison and then looked at each other. Rachel made a face. She could practically feel the testosterone bouncing around between them.

“Erm, I’ll help her,” JC said, breaking the awkward starting contest. He knelt and hooked his arms under her knees, as gently as he could, and underneath her shoulders, lifting her into his arms. “Some first day, huh?” He asked.

“Oh, shut up and take me to the hospital,” Mack grumbled.

“Thanks Daddy,” Mack said as she accepted the glass of soda he held out to her. She took a sip of it while he gently moved her injured leg and sat down on the end of the couch, laying her leg across his lap.

The hospital trip was very short of being labeled chaotic. Joey and Chris were freaking out about her leg being broken (“I saw a bone!” Chris cried out. “I swear!”) or sprained while Cal tried to calm the horses down who were in a panic from Joey and Chris freaking out. The longer Mack was in pain the more unbearable and sarcastic she seemed to become (“Will someone please just get me to the gosh forsaken hospital!”) so Rachel was trying to get her mind off of it by talking about wedding plans (“So do you think an indoor or outdoor wedding is better?”). JC and Lance were trying to find the quickest way to get to the hospital all the while Justin and Trace were arguing over which car to take.

By the time the parents were informed they all had their heads on straight and got back to the van to get to the hospital. Chris and Joey were trying to get Mack to laugh whereas everyone else was quiet. The atmosphere in the car was thick from both Justin and Trace being on edge so the others didn’t dare say a word.

The doctor checked out her knee, determined it was a sprain and that she had to be off it for the next couple of weeks being a mild one. The conversation over dessert was light and Justin and Trace seemed to lighten up, both devouring any piece of pie that came within grabbing distance. They talked late into the night until going their separate ways for bed. As soon as Mack got back to her house she crashed on the couch and flipped through random TV channels until she turned it off out of boredom.

“How’re you feeling?” Philippe asked.

She shrugged. “My leg’s fine because of the medication. I, however, feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin. I can’t stand not being able to do anything. Two stinkin’ weeks! You’d think the doctors could just pop my knee back into place—“

“You didn’t dislocate it,” her father interrupted her.

“—but no, two weeks of doing nothing but sitting on a couch! I’m going out of my mind and it’s only been one night!” She finished her rant by throwing her arms into the air. “Now I can’t dance and I can’t enter that competition. Dad, this was my year! I’m going to lose my title!”

“You’re going to lose your marbles if you don’t calm down,” Charlotte said in a stern tone, despite the smile on her face. She sat in a rocking chair in the corner, knitting together what looked like was going to be a very short blanket or a really long scarf.

“But Mom, you don’t get it,” Mack sighed.

“I ‘get it’ perfectly fine. Just because I’m older doesn’t mean my mind is going yet,” she replied, throwing a small pillow at her daughter. “You’re going to have to deal with what life gives you.”

“But why this? Why now?”

“Ask God that, not me.”

“I think it’s His way of telling you to slow down and relax,” Philippe said, turning to look at his daughter who had a skeptical look on her face. “I don’t think you’ve ever relaxed a day in your life.”

“I did when I was two,” Mack replied.

“Yeah, those moments when we strapped you into the car to try and get you to go to sleep,” Charlotte replied. “And even then you’d still try and dance in your seat.”

“What can I say? The music moves me.”

“Aint that the truth,” Philippe laughed. “Usually you’re very careful on Bluebelle. What happened?”

“I got distracted,” Mack replied.

“By whom?” Charlotte asked.

Her daughter lifted her eyebrows. “What makes you think I was distracted by a person?”

“Because you’re just like me. The only way you lose focus is if a person is involved, usually a guy. Other petty problems you push aside until you have time to think about them and digest it, which isn’t until the end of the day,” Charlotte explained.

“I thought I told you to stay out of my head,” Mack said while placing her hands on her ears.

Charlotte laughed. “Justin or Trace?”

“Both. They’re being really stupid,” Mack replied. Her parents stayed silent but looked at her as if asking with their eyes for her to tell her more. She sighed and rolled her eyes, making herself comfortable. “Let’s just say I did something…”

“Stupid?” Philippe filled in.

“Do you want to tell the story?”

“Sweetie, every time you’re around those two you do something stupid. We’ve learned to expect it.”

“Anyway, I did something stupid with them and now I’m worried. It makes me think I shouldn’t have come back home.” She sighed again. “Ever since I came back things have been screwed up. I don’t know what I want to do anymore.  Justin and Trace are about ready to attack each other and Rachel just wants me to help her with the wedding and everything but I can’t focus on it.”

Charlotte’s green eyes were narrowed. She had stopped rocking and she was staring at her daughter intently. It was for Mack to look back at her mother. It was like a mirror image, just swap her mother’s hair to black and her eyes to blue and they’d be like twins, Charlotte would just be a bit older looking.

“This stupid thing you did,” Charlotte said slowly. “If it’s what I’m thinking, and I hope for your sake it’s not what I’m thinking, then you’ve really gotten yourself into trouble that we can’t get you out of. Those boys…they’re very fond of you. Very fond, it’s something I’ve noticed and been aware of for years. You, however, are not aware of your power over them. They’d fall over themselves to keep you happy if they could, even if it’s at each other’s expense, which is bound to happen eventually because they feel that the other both have what they each want.”

“Which is what?” Mack asked.

“You,” Philippe and Charlotte replied in unison.

“Surely you would’ve noticed the routine by now,” Charlotte continued. “Justin says and/or does something stupid, you run off to Trace. In turn you leave Trace behind in the dust to share some sort of whirlwind adventure of traveling the world with Justin.” She paused. “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I am your mother so I have every right to be, but sooner or later you have to decide where to place them in your life. It’s not fair to them and, eventually, something will go wrong with your friendship that it won’t be fixable and I’d rather that not happen. A friendship that you have with those two, and Rachel, is one that can last forever. You just have to stop being afraid of hurting people.”

“You’re too smart,” Mack groaned.

“Why do you think I married her?” Philippe asked with a smile.

“Because you got me pregnant,” Charlotte replied dryly. Philippe picked up a pillow and threw it at her. “I love you too, sweetie.”

“You two are weird,” Mack muttered.

“Where do you think you get it?” Philippe teased.

“I love having you home,” Lynn said with a smile across the small round, kitchen table.

“I love being home,” Justin replied with a grin. “Now I don’t have to pay an obscene amount of money just to do my laundry when you can do it for free.”

Lynn scoffed and slapped his arm. His friends snickered as she then leaned over and kissed his cheek. “So how has the tour been?”

“Really good,” JC spoke up. “The fan’s responses are great. They love the new songs and they’re singing along to it as if they were our older ones. It’s great but I’m happy and appreciative that you’re letting us stay here with you.”

“You don’t have to be so gosh darn polite,” Chris said to him. “The tour rocks and we love you for taking us in!”

Lynn laughed. “I love having you boys here. I like a full house.” She took Justin’s hands and gave them a little squeeze. “I like being able to talk to you all and hear your experiences in person instead of through the phone.” She then glanced at Justin. “How have you been?”

They all turned and looked pointedly at Justin who’s eyes shifted from each of their faces and then to his mothers. “I’m fine,” he said firmly.

“No you’re not,” Lynn said quietly. “They’ve been calling me and telling me about your attitude lately. I’ve taught you to be courteous and kind, Justin Randall. Instead I’ve been hearing that you’re snapping at everyone and having a bad attitude about everything.”

“I wouldn’t have one if they stayed out of my business,” Justin growled.

“Dude, if this is about Britney—“ Lance started.

“This isn’t about her!” Justin snarled. “This has nothing to do with her!”

“It has everything to do with her!” Chris cried out. “No Jace, I’m not biting my tongue about it anymore,” he said when JC tried to get him to calm down. “Excuse my language, Lynn, but you’re being a real asshole Justin. You’re pushing us away and bitching at us when all we really want to do is help you.”

“Yeah, man,” Joey agreed. “We know you’re hurt but—“

“Hurt?” Justin repeated. It scared him how bitter his voice was. “You think I’m hurt? I’m not hurt, I’m fucking furious. She cheated on me. With Wade. Of all goddamned fucking people it was Wade. I would’ve been fine if it were…were, JC even, I would’ve been able to forgive him eventually!”

“Don’t bring me into this,” JC muttered.

“But no, it was Wade! I…I treated him like a fucking brother and he does this to me. And they didn’t even fucking tell me. I found out from a fucking mash letter.” Justin’s face was read by now and he was breathing heavily. He couldn’t stop the words from flowing, not even when his mother tried to calm him down. “The two people I trusted…they did this to me and acted like nothing happened even thought I knew! They just kept lying to me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her but—“

“Every time you did you got mad at the rest of us,” JC interrupted him. “You blamed yourself for the breakup, thinking that you should’ve known earlier that something was going on instead of finding out the way you did.” He shrugged. “So, to get over it, you went for the first sense of comfort you could get to, which was at your friend’s expense.” He looked over at Lynn who had a confused expression on her face. “He and Mack got intimate,” JC told her. She nodded slowly and he looked back at Justin. “Then you, in your Justin way, did something or said something to her that hurt her and she left. My guess? You realized what you did and told her that it didn’t mean anything or that it was a mistake and that you were only trying to find a way to clear your head. Something that was insensitive enough for her to leave the tour without telling anyone and coming home.

“Which made you angrier because she could come home. That’s what this whole thing was about from the get go, wanting to come home. To stop everything and be by yourself again. To be able to do what you want whenever you want.” He sighed. “That’s why you want to take a break. It’s why you want to record your own album.”

Justin stiffened. “You said you were okay with it,” he whispered. “You all did.”

“And we are,” Lance quickly jumped in. “We all decided to do different things while on this break and we support your decision. We just don’t support your reasoning because, well, they’re selfish in a way. We get that you missed being home. We get that you missed being around your friends and you have to watch your family grow up and move on. We have to go through that too! We don’t support the way you went around it. At all. We’re your brothers and we’ve always been there for you but now you’re pushing us away when all we wanted to do was help.” He stood and motioned for the others to follow his lead.

“You can talk to us whenever you want,” Joey said. “We just hope you understand where we’re coming from.” The four of them silently left the room.

Justin had taken his hands out of Lynn’s grasp and held his hands up to his mouth. His foot bounced rapidly on the ground. He hadn’t realized he was shaking until Lynn wrapped her arms around him. He let out a sigh and rested his head on her shoulder.

“Trace, talk to me,” Rachel said while sitting down on the couch. She brought her knees up to her chest and nestled her tea in the space between her chest and knees.

“About what?” Trace asked while still tossing a tennis ball inot the air. Once he caught it he tossed it up again. It took his attention away from the day and it was what he needed. He sighed a little. He loved having Justin back but it felt so much different than it ever had before. There was something wrong with them but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He tried to play it off like he was just readjusting to him being back but that quickly wore off.

He felt the muscles in his face pull it back to a sort of grimace. He hated feeling this way around Justin. They’re best buds and Trace knew he’d love him like a brother for the rest of his life. However it seemed like when things were finally about him Justin rolled into town and everyone’s attention turned to him. When was it going to be his turn? His turn to make everyone proud of him?

“Your raging green-eyed monster,” she replied, reaching forward to set her mug down.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend to get to?” He asked. He didn’t want to talk about it, especially with Rachel, the Queen of Prying.

“Fiancé,” Rachel corrected with a grin. “And while I love to throw that word around now I know that I need to be here for you in your time of need.”

Trace caught the ball and looked at Rachel. “My time of need?” He repeated. “Rach, you’re making it sound like I have a time of month or something.”

“That’d actually be a really interesting concept,” she said as she rubbed her chin. Then she waved her hand. “That’s beside the point.”

“Then what is the point?” He asked.

“The point is you’re jealous of Justin,” she responded. Trace scoffed. “You always have been. I just assumed it’d turn to happiness for him by now. Being your best friend and all.” Trace twisted his mouth to the side. “Look, he may be my cousin but I’m closer to you than I am to him, admittedly, and I can see what he being home does to you.”

“It’s not that,” Trace sighed. That was part of it but it wasn’t the whole thing. “It’s…I feel stuck here,” he said, slowly piecing together his thoughts. “I feel so trapped. I always feel alive whenever Justin would invite me out on tour but whenever I’m here… Don’t get me wrong, I love it here, I just want to experience something new. Something out of the ordinary. Something no one expects.”

“Like that clothing design thing?” Rachel asked.

“How’d you know about that?” Trace asked incredulously.

“Well, you’re a great drawer I just assumed,” she said and shrugged. He stared hard at her. “I found a shoebox full of your drawings years ago,” she admitted. “They’re really good. Why are they in a shoebox?”

“’Cause I don’t want my dad to see them,” Trace replied. “He doesn’t think I’d go far with drawing and designing and everything. He thinks it’s a girly profession and he doesn’t care that I happen to be good at it. As long as I do something that exudes physical strength he’ll be happy.”

“But you won’t be,” Rachel pointed out. Trace shrugged. “Just like you won’t ever fully be happy until you take control of your life. It’s your life, not your father’s. If you want to leave, go ahead. We’ll still be here when you come back.” She paused. “Unless this has to do with Sam.” Trace stiffened at her words. “Trace, you weren’t responsible for what happened. It wasn’t your fault,” she tried.

Her words fell on deaf ears. “I could’ve done something, Rach. I could have but I didn’t. And I lost her.” He pressed his lips together in a tight, straight line. “I don’t want to lose anyone else. I can’t. I thought I was going to lose my grandfather and if I continued with that I’d lose my dad as well. I just…I can’t do it. I already lost my best friend.”

Rachel sighed and mentally kicked herself for bringing it up. “Sorry T,” she whispered. She moved across the couch and hugged him around the center. “Sorry.”

“So what do you think about pink? Too cliché?” Rachel asked while flipping through pages and pages of booklets and binders on different floral arrangements. Cal looked over her shoulder and scratched at his dark curly hair. Rachel turned to him, waiting patiently for his answer. His face scrunched up and after a few moments of silence he finally sighed.

“I’m not a big fan of pink, Darlin’,” he replied slowly, worried for her reaction. “But whatever you want I’ll go with.” He smiled and then kissed the side of her head but Rachel didn’t crack a smile. Instead she frowned and let out a huff, turning a page so hard that her fingers almost punctured holes in the magazine that was centered on the table. “Whass’matter?” He finally asked, draping an arm over the back of her chair.

Rachel shrugged, still turning the pages. Each jerk got harder and harder until, finally, a page ripped in half. Rachel frowned at the now mutilated face of a model who had a large flower in her hair behind her right ear. Rachel grunted. “She was ugly anyway,” she muttered.

Cal started laughing. Rachel shot a look at him but it only made him laugh harder. Rachel looked down and let out a little chuckle. She couldn’t stay mad when he was laughing. His eyes wrinkled in the corners and they seemed to brighten. “You look like a pit-bull that’s been stung by a pee,” he commented. “What’s on your mind, Darlin’? You won’t get much work done in this mental state.”

Rachel sighed. She knew he was right, not that she’d want to admit it, but she knew it. She ran her fingers through her hair and brushed her bangs out of her face. “I’m worried about Trace,” Rachel finally replied.

Cal made a grunting sound. “Should I be worried?” She smiled. He was so protective of her, a little too protective sometimes. She knew he had good intentions, though, and it’s what made her fall in love with him a little more with each and every passing day.

“Hardly,” she replied. “Y’know, when we were kids, he used to flick boogers at me in school.”

“Ew.”

“Exactly.” Rachel let out a little laugh and turned more pages in a bridal magazine, this one showcasing table décor. “I’m worried that he’s too much of a people pleaser, a family guy.”

Cal lifted an eyebrow. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Well, he’s letting his father control his life without having to be there,” Rachel explained. “It’s like his father is a puppet master and Trace is attached to the strings on the other end of it. Trace has…these big, big dreams he wants to accomplish but I can tell that he’s scared of leaving everything that he knows behind. It’s why he’s working at the school, he’s trying to find something to do while taking the time to search for another job that will not only please his family but make him happy as well.”

“The man’s what, twenty-two, twenty-three? Why’s he letting his father make decisions for him?” Cal asked while taking his and her glasses and walked over to the pitcher of sweet iced tea that sat on the island in the middle of the kitchen. He poured the amber colored liquid into their glasses, squeezed a bit of lemon into them, and then walked back to the table, setting their glasses down before sitting himself.

“His father’s a scary man,” Rachel admitted. “It’s why I didn’t go over to their house that much as we got older.” She reached for her glass and held it in two hands, gently tapping it with her fingers. “Also…I think there’s something wrong with his parents’ marriage,” she said quietly. “I think…his father is trying to control Trace because his marriage is something he’s losing control with. It’s just a guess but his father’s an intense man and his mother is very quiet and timid.”

“I feel for him,” Cal said before taking a sip of his tea. “My father’s a strict man as well but he’s—“

“He’s human,” Rachel interrupted him. “And I’m less afraid of him. He’s like a big teddy bear. Speaking of which, can your parents and the rest of your family come in for the wedding?” She asked, reaching for her pad of notebook paper that was split down the middle into two columns. One side had the word “attending” written on it and the other said “not attending”.

“My mom and Dad can come,” Cal replied, sticking a toothpick between his teeth and biting down on the end. “Grandpa Fletcher’s already here, Brandon can come, and Lulu is trying to move her schedule around. I think she said put her down for now but don’t be surprised if she can’t make it.”

“Okaaaaay,” Rachel stretched out the word as she wrote names down. “My mom and dad will be there, of course. Justin, Aunt Lynn, Paul, Uncle Randy, Lisa, Jonathan, Steven, Grandparents on both sides…Mack and Trace, JC, Lance, Chris, and Joey if they want to can come. I’m sure Justin would want them there and I wouldn’t have a problem with it.” She cast a glance at Cal to make sure he was okay with it. When he nodded she wrote their names down. “Anyone else?” She asked while tapping the pen against the pad. “I mean, I don’t want it to be too big.”

“I don’t either,” Cal replied. “I think this is good. The smaller the better.”

“You’re only saying that because my daddy’s paying for the wedding,” Rachel said while flicking his nose. He playfully bit at her. She shrieked and pulled her hand away but he took it back and kissed the back of her hand.

“Not if my grandpa can get his way,” Cal replied. “He wants that to be his gift to us, him paying for the entire wedding.”

“He has horses and a stable to take care of,” Rachel said while shaking her head. “I’m not going to let him do that. My daddy won’t let him do that. I’ll see to it. His presence is present enough.” She punctuated her sentiments with a nod. “Have you thought anymore about where you want to spend our honeymoon?”

“In the hotel,” Cal deadpanned. He dodged Rachel’s fist and laughed. “I’m joking, Darlin’. I don’t know…the mountains?”

Rachel pursed her lips. “That’s nice but I was thinking Hawaii.”

Cal wrinkled his nose. “Why Hawaii?”

“Hello! It’s paradise! We can get couples massages, walk along the beach, get boat rides, parasail, anything that we can think of! We can even see a volcano! All I’m saying is we’re running out of time to plan this wedding and where we’re going to go afterwards and I’d like to book plane tickets as soon as possible.”

“Well, if Hawaii is what you want it’s what you’ll get,” Cal replied.

“I don’t want you to go because it feels like an obligation,” Rachel sighed.

“You had me at massage,” Cal explained.

Rachel beamed. “Great! Now, what store do we want the registry in?”

“All of ‘em,” Cal replied.

Rachel giggled, “You have to narrow it down, babe. How about an appliance store? I think we need more appliances than anything.”

Cal blinked. “You’re moving in with me, I have enough appliances for the both of us.”

“Cal, those things are being held together by duct tape,” Rachel said with a lift of her eyebrows. “We need new ones. Some new furniture as well.”

“What’s wrong with my furniture?”

“Nothing, but I want it to look like someone else lives there.”

“Okay, but no pink!” Cal paused and then added. “Or flowers or…anything fluffy.”

Rachel let out a scoff-like like. “Since when do you see fluffy couches?”

“If it comes out of this mind”—he pressed a finger to her temple—“it can be a reality.”

Rachel took his hand and kissed his fingertips. Then she pressed it against his cheek. “I love you,” she whispered tenderly.

Cal smiled. “I know,” he replied. “I love you too.” He turned his attention the ringing phone that was on the kitchen table. Taking his hand away from hers he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. “Bomar residence, Cal speaking,” he drawled. He paused for a second, listening to who was on the end, before replying, “Yeah, she’s right here.” He held the phone out to Rachel. “It’s Mack.”

“Oh man,” Rachel groaned, taking the phone and placing her hand over the receiver. “She’s a real nightmare once she’s injured.” She explained as soon as she saw Cal’s confused look. “Hey,” she greeted her friend as soon as she brought her phone to her ear.

“Rach, I’m going crazy,” Mack groaned into the phone.

“You can’t go anywhere you’re permanently parked at,” Rachel commented as innocently as possible. When she heard her friend mimicking her through the phone she cracked up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Rachel laughed, waving her hand in front of her face to keep tears of laughter from slipping down her cheeks. “You left that one wide open. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sooooo bored,” Mack whined in her overdramatic way. “I’ve done every single jigsaw puzzle, played every single video game, watched Arthur, played guitar—Rach, I watched the Home Shopping Network for the past three hours! Do you know how hard it is to keep myself from buying this junk? I almost bought a singing cookie jar!”

Rachel made a face. “Wow, you must be bored,” she said while scratching her head. “Wait a minute…you’re not cleaning, are you?” She asked suspiciously. She knew of her friend’s tendency to clean whenever she got really bored or she was home alone with nothing to do.

“Nnnnooooo,” Mack replied slowly.

Rachel sighed. “Mack, you know you’re not supposed to be on that leg.”

“I’m not….I’m standing on the other one.”

“You’re supposed to keep your leg elevated!” Rachel groaned. “Where’s Charlotte?”

“Mom and Dad are both at work. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m bored.”

“I’ll bet,” Rachel groaned, rubbing her eyes. “Look, I’ll come over to keep you company if you help me with some of this wedding stuff. I want you to be my Maid of Honor but that won’t happen if you keep running away from me. With that leg of yours you can’t run anymore so you might as well accept your duties now,” she said triumphantly.

“Just to be clear this means me telling you that you look fat in a dress that I don’t like on you and you can’t get mad at me, right?” Mack asked.

“If you’d like to get a heel stabbed in your eye, yes,” Rachel replied. One would think she was a sociopath because of the strange wide and pleasant smile that graced her lips as she uttered those words. Cal, ordinarily, would’ve shot her a look of surprise but he’s been with her for so long that he could tell when she was joking.

“Okay, fine,” Mack sighed. “But you’re lucky I’m in a bad mood.”

“I’m pretty sure that doesn’t make me lucky, only stupid.”

“Shut up, Rach.”

Rachel stuck her tongue out at the phone which was emitting a dial tone. She hung up her phone and pursed her lips while tapping her fingers on the table. “I’m trying to figure out why she’s my friend,” Rachel said slowly. “Until I remember that she’s always been around. Like the time the other girls in our class basically shunned us for not being in the pageant circuit. Now, dealing with her having an injury is making me wonder why I’m bothering until I realized that, as my Maid of Honor, I can stick her with any job that I don’t want to do to make my life a lot easier.”

“Babe, that’s mean,” Cal laughed.

“Yes it is,” Rachel replied with a grin. “But I deserve to be happy and seeing my friend suffer temporarily makes me happy.”

Cal shook his head and stood. Rachel’s eyes drifted down to his “work attire”—dusty jeans, dirty boots, a white wife-beater and a plaid shirt—which also seemed to double as his casual clothes, she noted. She told herself to buy him a suit for their wedding just in case he doesn’t have any clean clothes by then. She didn’t expect him to have that many left with all of the work he was putting into the stables lately.

“I have to get to work. Check to see if we have a new foal or anything,” Cal said as he spun his keys around his finger. “You should see the little kids. They’re so excited for the competition coming up. I think they’re so excited they’d fall off their horses if they weren’t so cared of losing a ribbon.”

“You just have to remind them that winning isn’t everything and, as long as they have fun, it’ll be worth it,” Rachel said as she stood. She draped her arms around his neck and placed a sweet kiss on his lips before bringing her hands down to his chest. He leaned forward slightly and rested his forehead against hers while his arms went up and around her lower back. “On your way back could you bring me a taco?” I’m suddenly craving one.”

“You’re so random,” Cal chuckled.

~*~*~*~

Rachel twisted the knob to the Desrosiers kitchen door and let herself into the house. It was always open for people to wander in and out, the first sign that Southern Hospitality was authentic and not just talked about. There were times, she remembered, that complete strangers would come into the home but they would always be treated like family and taken care of. It was the main reason she didn’t want to move out of the South after she and Cal got married.

“Hey,” Rachel yelled while she closed the door behind her.

“In the living room,” Mack yelled back. Rachel saw a hand lift up from the couch and she squinted, taking her time to look around the kitchen. Nothing was out of place, there were no dirty dishes sitting in the sink, no toaster crumbs, nothing. If it weren’t for the pungent smell of lemon pledge wafting around Rachel would’ve believed that her friend really hadn’t done anything cleaning related.

“The lemon pledge is giving you away,” Rachel commented as she walked into the living room and sat down on the edge of the couch that her friend looked as if she melted onto.

“Curses,” she grumbled before tilting her head back to see Rachel. “What took ya so long? Get your daily dose of Cal this morning?”

“Anyone ever tell you you have a strange sense of humor?” Rachel grumbled.

“It’s what I pride myself in.”

“Any of the boys come out of hibernation?” Rachel asked, turning to see what was on TV. She smiled a little when she recognized the Powerpuff Girls.

“No, thank God,” Mack replied, lowering the volume on the cartoon as Bubbles went on one of her rare rants. “I’d shove my crutches up their noses sideways if they tried to come over here.”

“Ah, the pain speaks,” Rachel  teased.

“You’re making fun of me in my time of need?” Mack asked while lifting her eyebrows.

“Your time of need?” Rachel scoffed.

“Yes! I’ve been on this couch for a half a day and I can already feel my abs turning to flab!”

“You’re being overdramatic, as usual,” Rachel said, ignoring her friend’s huff. “Anyway, I wanted to know your opinion about what flowers to get for the wedding. I was thinking daisies but I don’t think they’re summery enough.”

“How about sunflowers?” Mack suggested. “The guests can admire them and then eat their seeds when they get bored.”

“Well, I plan to make sure my wedding’s not boring,” Rachel grumbled. “I was thinking bringing in a photobooth and having disposable cameras on every table.”

“Y’know, that actually sounds really cool,” Mack said while scratching her head with a corner of the remote. Rachel smiled. It was the only positive thing her friend had said all morning that didn’t have a trace of sarcasm, cynicism, or narcissism in it. “You should add bubbles too.”

Rachel wrinkled her nose. “Y’sure?”

“Who doesn’t like playing with bubbles? Trust me, it’ll be a hit. I’m your Maid of Honor, you actually have to listen to me now,” Mack pointed out.

Rachel made a fake groaning sound before it was quickly replaced by the sound of dry heaving. “Can we open a window or something?” She asked while wavingher hand in front of her nose. “That smell is making me sick.”

Mack gave her a look as if she were crazy. “I hardly used that stuff. Do you have the nose of a bloodhound or are you pregnant?” She asked.

Rachel shook her head. “Neither. I just can’t stand the smell.”

“Uh-huh,” Mack replied, obviously not convinced. “You’d tell me if you were, right? You wouldn’t keep it from me?”

“’Course I would, sweetie,” Rachel replied with a small smile. Mack nodded and turned her attention back to the TV while Rachel let out a soft sigh. That was the last thing she needed to complicate her life.

Trace let out a breath and used his arm to wipe the dripping sweat off of his forehead. He stood up tall and made a face at the ache in his back but smiled at the work he finished. Brett lifted the back of the truck bed until the panel fit in with the rest and gave it a little slap.

“You’d think they’d send people here to collect their busted lawn mowers,” Trace grumbled while rolling his shoulder. He pulled a face at the dull ache that had been settling in. “Instead of making us transport it to them.”

 “We’re young, able bodies, of course they’d make us work,” Brett replied as he, too, used his arm to wipe sweat off of his face. “Just thank the Lord that we’re finally finished for the day.” He paused to look around the empty parking lot to make sure the coast was clear. He reached into the window of the truck and, after looking around again, pulled his arms out with a beer in each hand. “Catch,” he said while tossing it to Trace.

“You know we can’t drink on school property,” Trace said as he rolled the cool glass around in his hands.

Brett shrugged and popped off the cap. “Who’s going to know? No one’s around and school’s over so it’s not like the little kids are going to report us to anyone.” He lifted his eyebrows before taking a hearty swing and let out a sigh of content. “So, how’s everything going now that Timberlake’s back?”

Trace didn’t miss the tone of contempt in Brett’s voice but he chose to ignore it. Not everyone was a fan of Justin, he knew. He wasn’t exactly the most popular person in school, when it was filled with pageant princesses and football stars. “It’s…it’s different,” Trace finally replied as he pressed the cap of the bottle against his truck. He brought it up and quickly slammed it back down, successfully popping off the lid, spilling a little bit of the drink in the process.

“Different how?” Brett asked with lifted eyebrows.

Trace shrugged and took a sip of his drink.  The sip quickly turned to a gulp until half of the bottle was empty when Trace finally stopped himself. He let out a little sigh and steadied his breathing. He shook his head slightly and replied, “Just different. He’s different. Ever since he broke up with Britney—“

“Heard she cheated on him,” Brett interrupted Trace. Then he gave a little laugh. “Bout time something didn’t go right in Golden Boy’s life.” He noticed the look on Trace’s face. “Don’t get me wrong, bud. Justin’s a great guy. But, come on, good things always happen to him.”

“Because he works hard for what he has,” Trace replied, tapping his fingers against his beer bottle.

Brett lifted an eyebrow at the slight uncertainty that was in Trace’s voice. He tried to hide it but Brett caught it easily. “Does he now?” Brett asked, resting his forearms on the back of the truck and looked at Trace past the handle of the broken down lawn mower that sat in it. “Did he work hard to get someone smoking like Britney as his girlfriend?”

“They’ve known each other—“ Trace started but Brett cut him off.

“Did he work hard to add onto the mansion he now calls a house?”

“He earned—“

“Did he work hard to leave you behind?” Trace’s mouth had opened to retort but it froze halfway as soon as Brett’s words settled into his brain. Brett gave a laugh and finished the rest of his bottle. “He sure did leave you behind right quick. Almost as if his ass was lit on fire,” he drawled with a knowing smirk.

“That’s not…what happened,” Trace mumbled.

“How many times has he come back since he joined that boyband?” Brett asked. “Like…five?” He shook it from me. “Take it from your friend; you’re better off without this guy. He’s shoving you down into the dirt and won’t let you come up to see the light. Well, I’m helping you to your feet, man. I mean, why else would you willingly be here so early if not to escape him?”

That’s not what Trace was escaping that morning, not at all. Trace had practically bolted from his house the next morning to be sure that he wasn’t stopped by anyone to talk. He didn’t want to talk. Not about what he was doing. Not about his life. Not about his grandfather. Not about Justin. Nothing. He didn’t want to talk at all. He barely sat down for breakfast before he was up and out the door again to get to work. It was earlier than the needed him to be there but it was better than sitting at a table with his father and mother who kept giving each other looks that grated on his nerves.

He knew what they were saying and they didn’t even have to say it. They could see that something was going on between them. Anyone with eyes would be able to see it if they looked carefully enough. He sat in his truck until school started going over in his mind what had managed to go wrong in a friendship that he thought would last forever. He grew closer to Rachel over time, it was inevitable. She was the only one around and the only one who felt the sense of loneliness he was feeling.

He always thought, a bit naively, that whenever they came back they’d pick up where they left off and have many adventures like they used to do. However, the more the years went on the more Trace began to abandon the idea. Not that he wanted to, but because reality was starting to seep into the perfect world that his mind made up.

“Why are you two friends anyway?” Brett asked.

“Our mothers are best friends,” Trace replied. “All of ours, actually. They’re best friends. So we became friends ‘cause they’re always together.”

Brett laughed. “Wow. So you’re used to playing second fiddle to him, huh? Watching him go around and living the high life and…you’re here working as a glorified janitor at our old Elementary school.”

“That hardly has anything to do with him, it has to do with my dad,” Trace replied as he brought his beer bottle back to his mouth, finishing his drink this time.

“Ahh, so you’re just going to let others fuck around with your life?” Brett asked while running his fingers through his hair. “Is that why you haven’t beaten the shit out of your so called friend for sleeping with Mack?”

Trace faltered. “How d’you know about that?”

“Word travels fast around here,” Brett replied. “Especially when it deals with Justin. He’s one lucky fucker. I’ll bet he has fine ass ladies lining up for his dick.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He quickly lit it and stuck the cigarette in his mouth and took a long drag. “So, are you on a certain schedule to get back to your place or do you have some time to let your hair down, so to speak?” He let out a breath and a cloud of gray smoke lifted up into the air.

The pounding bass beat matched Trace’s heart as he placed his hand on the woman’s stomach and pulled her closer against him. He grinned when he felt her ass press back against his crotch and she swayed her hips to the music. Her dark hair was flying around as she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck. He leaned in against her neck, taking in her intoxicating scent while rolling his hips, successfully getting a moan out of the woman.

He scanned the dance floor. It was packed, even more so for the nightclub. It was as if everyone in the whole of Memphis had come to this particular nightclub. He wasn’t complaining, though, any excuse to be pressed closer against this brunette vixen. She gently massaged his neck as he smirked, sliding his hands lower, lightly touching her thighs under her skirt and she trembled against his touch. She was like putty in his hands.

Or, in this case, panties.

She turns around and presses against him, her mouth near his ear. “Want to have some more fun?”

“Hmm, depends on how much fun you’re willing to have,” he replied.

She gently nipped at his earlobe, pulled back and winked at him. “Meet me by the bathrooms in ten?”

“Ok, but if I’m not there in ten don’t hesitate to start the fun, ok sweetie?” She pressed a kiss to his neck before peeling away from him. He shook his head and headed over to the VIP area of the club, motioning to the waiter the drink he wanted before sitting down.

“Having fun?” Brett asked over the loud noise with a large smirk on his lips.

“Are you blind? Girls are throwing themselves at me. Of course I’m having fun,” he replied with a little eye roll. He went to punch Brett on the shoulder but he was slightly off balance. He chuckled to himself and shifted in his seat to stay upright. The lights in the club seemed brighter than before. He blinked a few times to try and get his vision to clear but it didn’t go away. Then he shook his head and almost fell over but Brett pushed him back up in his seat.

“Don’t you think you’ve had a bit too much?” Brett asked, nodding towards the drink that Trace had just received.

Trace shrugged and took a sip from the small straw that was placed in it. “Since when are you such a lightweight?” He asked Brett. “Remember those college parties? You were the first to hit the keg.”

Brett laughed. “I’m just sayin’ maybe you should put some time between those drinks you’re knocking back.”

“Okay, mom!” Trace slurred slightly. He wrapped his lips around his straw and sucked up the rest of his drink before pushing the glass away. He put too much force behind it so it slid right across the table and smashed onto the floor. “Oops,” he muttered before doubling over and laughing.

Brett laughed and shook his head. He was about to comment when a leggy blond swung herself onto him and pressed a searing kiss onto his mouth. “Hey Trace, you can find your way back home, right?” Brett asked as the blonde attached her lips to his neck.

“Yeah, shure man,” Trace replied, flagging the waiter down for another drink.

“Have fun, bud,” Brett said before grasping the blonde’s hand and practically tearing his way out of the nightclub.

Trace leaned back in his seat and ran his fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes at the dull ache that came to his head with each pound of the bass. He let out a deep breath and suddenly sat back up when he remembered. “Oh geeze,” he muttered. He suddenly remembered that he had left someone by the bathroom. Sally? Sarah? Samantha? He pushed his way to the bathroom and found her leaning against a wall, applying fresh lipstick to her lips.

“It’s about time. I was starting to think you left,” she cooed, snapping her compact mirror shut with a snap.

“Yeah. How about we get out of here?” He suggested, taking her elbow.

A devilish smile came to her face. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” Trace replied quickly.

She grabbed his hand and Trace almost winced at how tight her grip was. She pulled him out of the club through the back door and he took a deep breath of the cool air. Her heels clacked as she marched with a purpose towards her car. Trace didn’t want to leave his truck behind but he figured he’d just send a quick text to Rachel or Cal to drive it back for him and he’d be fine.

She pulled her keys out of her purse, about to unlock the door but Trace stopped him by pressing up against her and pressing her back against the car. “No, let me drive,” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “Just give me the directions.”

She slapped the keys into his palm, leaning forward to take a whiff of his cologne, letting out a sigh of content. He fought the urge to roll his eyes as she walked—actually sashayed—around to the other side of the car.

The entire ride to her place Trace had to fight the urge to slap her hand away from his knee that was steadily climbing higher up his thigh. It’s what you want, isn’t it? To get your mind away from…stuff. Yeah, this will help, he told himself.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

That one word repeated in Trace’s head as it throbbed with every car honk, squeal of tires, and turning signal ticking just to name a few. He barely made it out of the hotel room a few hours later. His body was hurting. He knew right then and there that he had over did it a couple of hours prior and now he was suffering the consequences with a churning stomach Note to self, don’t ever drink that much again.

He let out a sigh of relief when his house came into view as the taxi driver pulled over. Trace paid the man, barely looking at the till, and stumbled out of the car, holding onto the door to make sure he stayed on his feet since his knees were quacking so much.

He thanked the driver, managed to close the door and grabbed his head at the tiny explosions once the door slammed shut. He groaned as he turned towards his house. He didn’t think he’d be able to make it up the long driveway to his place, let alone make it through the front door without going crazy from the wind chimes on his porch.

Why does Mom have those again? He sighed and rubbed his hands over his short curls. He had to get into the house before his parents got home but he didn’t trust his legs. They were quaking way too much and he couldn’t walk a few steps without tilting.

Finally, he took a few deep breaths and took a couple of steps when he collapsed onto his knees. The smell of freshly cut grass floated past his nose and triggered his stomach to convulse. The next thing he knew a sour substance was pushing its way past his teeth and he let out a loud retching sound coupled with a few coughs as vomit fell onto the grass. He barely heard his front door opening and closing over the noise.

 “It’s about time you got back,” Rachel commented. Trace practically jumped out of his skin at Rachel’s sudden comment. Trace lifted his head to see Rachel standing above him, her arms crossed over her chest with her eyebrows raised. “So, how good was she?”

Trace tilted his head slightly. “What are you talking about?” He struggled to get to his feet but fell back onto the ground.

“The girl. I know you, Trace, you didn’t leave alone. How good was she?”

“It was…she got my mind off of things,” Trace muttered.

“I’ll say. Didn’t you say you were going out with Brett tonight?” She demanded. Trace replied with a groan and rolled onto his side. He just wanted the stars to stop spinning… “Oh man, he left you! I’m going to kill him!”

“Rachel,” Trace groaned.

“This is just great!” Rachel said while throwing her arms into the air. “You’re out all day and you come back drunk after you’ve slept with some strange girl. You’re probably crawling with STDs right now!”

“Rachel, stooooooop!”

“Hey, what’s going on out here?” Trace squeezed his eyes shut at the voice and the light on the porch that flickered on. When he opened his eyes he was now staring up at Justin and Cal who looked down at him. “Are you alright, bud?” Cal asked, lifting the brim of his cowboy hat.

“Is that glued to your head?” Trace asked. “I never seen you take it off. Is it to protect yourself from being abducted?” He then made a snorting sound and cracked up, rolling along the ground.

“Don’t tell me,” Justin sighed.

“Yeap, he’s drunk,” Cal said with a nod. He lightly poked Trace’s side with his foot and Trace rolled over as if he had been pushed. “Really drunk.”

“Guys, we have to get him inside,” Rachel said, suddenly nervous. “Right now! His parents will be home any minute!”

“Oh shit,” Justin mumbled, picking up on her urgency.

“What’s wrong with that? Their son is allowed to drink,” Cal said as he lifted his cowboy hat to scratch his head.

“If you have a five minute conversation with Mr. Ayala you’ll know that his life is on the line,” Rachel replied. Justin and Cal reached down to pick him up but had difficulty getting him to his feet. “Wait, his truck’s not here!” She suddenly cried out. “What about that?”

“Okay, okay…” Justin said, wracking his brain. “We’ll say…Brett took him out for the afternoon and he left his truck by the school. We can get it in the morning.”

“But we don’t know where it is!”

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow! Just hurry. Cal, come on!”

Cal looked from Trace to Justin and then to Rachel. “You’ve told me many times the stories about how you had to cover for each other whenever one of you did something stupid. Every time I’ve heard these stories I’ve told myself if anything were to arise I wouldn’t get involved,” he explained to her.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” Rachel said as she pressed her hands together. “You and Justin get him up to the bathroom and straight into bed and we’ll try to distract his parents for a bit.”

“It’s only twelve, this is early for Trace going to bed,” Justin pointed out, prying Trace’s bony fingers from digging into his arm. “It’d be better if we took him to one of our houses, sober him up, and then get him home.”

“And aint he old enough to get himself out of this mess,” Cal added.

“Look, I don’t know about you anymore, J, but Trace is my friend,” Rachel said firmly. Justin’s eyes squinted slightly at the tone she used and what she had said. He still considered Trace his friend. His best friend. His brother. Even despite the odd air that was between them now, he’d do anything for Trace. “And as his friend I promised I’ll always be there for him and that’s what I’m going to do! Be there for him! Now, are you in or are you out?”

“I promised I’ll always stick with you,” Cal sighed. “But I’m not exactly agreeing with it.”

“Thanks anyway, baby,” Rachel said with a half smile. “Justin?”

Justin stumbled slightly from Trace’s weight but he nodded as well. “I’m in too. What’s the plan?”

“We can take him to Mack’s house and try and get him sober as fast as possible. Wait for his parents to get home and ship him down the street and everyone will be none the wiser,” Rachel replied, tapping her chin while thinking. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

Her words were punctuated by the watery sound of Trace puking again. Rachel, Cal, and Justin all made faces at the smell that wafted from the pile of stomach bile.

“My boots,” Cal muttered forlornly.

“Rach, for Trace’s sake, this better work,” Justin grimaced at the feeling of his now soaked shoes.

“Sorry,” Trace grumbled.

“Oh, I’m so stupid!”

Mack stared, forlornly, at the crutch that lay on the ground beneath her feet. She tried to slide off the island that was in the middle of the kitchen to get it with her foot somehow but she was a little too short. She cursed herself—and God a little bit—for being so short. She just wanted to snack on something while waiting for her parents to get home and now she was stuck. If she jumped down she was sure to fall to the ground and injure her other knee or re-injure the one that was already busted.

This is what I get for being so damn stubborn, she thought as she pushed her hair out of her face. After the thought crossed her mind she made a face, realizing it was the first time in her life that she was actually aware that she was stubborn. She sat back and thought who she could call for help.

She didn’t want to call over to Justin’s house for she knew that, for the most part, the place would be empty. If not empty then they were still asleep. It’s as if they’ve been sleeping for the past three days straight, she hardly saw them. Which she was happy with at the moment, she didn’t know what to say to Justin. After he had kissed her she felt weird even thinking about him. It was why she stayed away from that territory for years, she knew it would screw up their friendship and look where she’s at now: stuck between a rock and a hard place, the “rock” and the “hard place” being her two best friends.

Mack let out a sigh and tried to think of another way to get down when she heard the doorknob to the back door moving. “Help!” She called out to whoever it was that was coming in. “Help!”

Her shoulders tensed and she was suddenly afraid. Who could it be? Her parents were out at work; Lynn was visiting friends for the day. Cassidy and Abigail were at work as well. By now Trace would’ve been at the school with Brett and Rachel, most likely, would be with Cal at the barn. Now she really wished she had her crutch.

“Do you need some help?” JC asked with a light laugh.

“I’m stranded,” Mack replied, pointing at her crutch with her left foot.

“Like a beached whale,” JC said with a smile so wide that his eyes squinted so much she was surprised he could see. He walked over to her and picked up her fallen crutch. “What were you doing, anyway?” He asked, spinning it between his hands instead of giving it back to her.

“I was trying to make dinner,” she replied. “Doctor says I have to stay off my leg so this dum-dum,” she jerked her thumb at herself, “thought it’d be a good idea to eat on the island. Now I can’t get down—stop laughing at me!” She slapped at JC’s arm.

“Sorry, it’s just…this predicament is so you,” he replied, holding out her crutch. Grumbling, she shifted it so it rested underneath her left armpit and pressed her weight on the hand grip. JC grasped her elbow and helped her down from the island, carefully, all the while trying not to laugh at her expense.

“Where are the others? Still sleeping?” Mack asked as she moved over to the sink and put her plate into it. She then swung around and went in the direction of the living room to sit down.

“Dozing on and off all day,” JC replied while following her. “I think they’ll sleep for a week if they can.”

“Aw, they don’t want to do that,” Mack replied, swimming her injured leg up onto the couch and popped a pillow underneath it. “Rachel and I were planning on taking y’all up to Millington to pick strawberries. They’re finally in season and they’re the best around, I think.”

“Don’t you think you’re doing a little much? The doctor said to stay off it,” JC pointed out.

“As long as it’s elevated when I’m not up and about, it should be fine,” Mack replied with a little roll of her eyes. She appreciated that JC was being protective, as usual, but she wondered how long it’d take for him to realize that she could take care of herself. It was as if he refused to believe or see that she has grown up and has responsibilities of her own that she had to deal with.

“So, talk to me,” JC said as he got comfortable in a chair. “What’s going on in that mind of yours,” he urged her while rocking in the chair. When her eyebrows crinkled together he cleared his throat. “You know what I’m talking about. So, what’s going on? I feel like there’s a lot of tension going on between you guys and I feel like it’s going to come to a head sometime soon.”

Mack shrugged and bit her thumbnail. No matter how late she stayed up thinking about everything she couldn’t come up with any conclusion to fix anything. Mainly she’s been wondering if she brought it upon herself in some way, shape, or form. She wasn’t oblivious, she always knew there was a sort of silent competition between Trace and Justin but why did it have to spill over now? And why did she have to be in the middle of it and not Rachel?

“It’s just…messed up,” she finally replied, running her fingers through her hair and let it fall on the other side of her neck. “Extremely messed up. I mean, as soon as you guys got back Justin and I started talking and I thought everything was cleared up and then, out of nowhere, he kisses me.”

JC’s eyebrows lifted. “Wait, what? He kissed you?” When she nodded he let out a low whistle. “He didn’t say anything to us.”

“What’d you guys talk about?”

JC ran his fingers through his curly hair and let out a breath, “Britney and Wade,” he replied. “He’s still hurting. It didn’t help that we kind of tore him to shreds. He’s a mess right now, a ball of emotions so it doesn’t really surprise me that you two…got close,” he said, avoiding a few terms he could’ve chosen.

“Mmm, because me being drop dead gorgeous has nothing to do with it,” she teased.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far—mmf!” JC cried out when she flung a couch pillow at his face. He moved it down and began to laugh. “All I’m saying is be careful around him. He’s in a fragile state and I don’t want him to take advantage of you, well, more than he already has. He doesn’t know what he wants or what he’s doing.”

“I think being back will help him find himself again,” Mack said with a little sigh. “It’s like…after Pearlman stealing money from you guys he’s had this massive wall up. Y’know? I don’t…I just think the whole thing messed with his head and it’s good that you guys are giving him time to heal, so to speak.”

“It’ll give you guys time to mend your friendship too,” JC pointed out.

“I know. I never thought there was anything wrong with it until now. We’re just…it’s weird. The atmosphere is so strange even though we’re doing the same things we always do and such. I even feel it between Rachael and I and I don’t get why. It’s like we’re all divided.”

“Just sit down and talk to ‘em and try to work everything out. You’re not going on in each other’s heads until someone say something.” JC paused and twisted his mouth to the side. “Well, first you all have to admit you have issues with each other. I’ve watched you all from afar whenever we came home and the longer the years went it on it seemed more like you’re a group of individuals instead of a group of friends.”

“I know, that’s the part that’s worrying me about the whole thing,” Mack sighed. “Especially with Justin working on his solo stuff. I don’t want to be selfish but…I’m scared of what will happen.”

Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, as if on cue, the front door to her home swung open and hit the opposite wall. The sound was loud enough to cause both of them to jump and clutch at their hearts out of fear.

“What the hell? I know you guys have keys but you don’t need to scare me half to death!” Mack called out before turning her head to see Justin and Cal dragging Trace into the house, Rachel following close behind them.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” JC asked, getting to his feet and moving towards Cal and Justin.

“Trace is drunk,” Rachel replied. “Where’s your coffee?”

“Same place it always is,” Mack replied with a wave of her hand, turning her attention to Trace who started to slump in Justin’s and Cal’s arms as if he were melting. “Get him on the couch,” she ordered, pointing at the loveseat behind her. She shifted on the couch the best she could see watch as they set Trace down. “No, on his side!” She barked when Trace started to roll so his front was facing the back of the couch. “How’d this happen?”

“How do you think?” Justin asked, brushing the back of his hand over his forehead.

“Don’t get snarky with me. Where’s Brett? Wasn’t he supposed to be with Trace?”

“Brett bailed, apparently,” Cal replied, making a face as he pulled off his boots. Trace groaned and brought his hands to his nose at the strong smell of vomit.

“Basket! Basket! Basket! For the love of God, get him a basket!” Mack shrieked, watching Trace start to make coughing sounds. “Mom would kill me if he puked on the carpet!”

“I’ll get it,” JC said and left the room.

“Trace. Trace. Do you know where you are?” Justin said loudly while shaking his friend’s shoulder.

“…home,” Trace replied.

“Close enough,” Justin sighed, running his hand over the top of his buzzed head. “You’re going to be alright, buddy.”

“No ‘m nah,” Trace replied, shaking his head from side to side. The movement was slow, as if he were underwater. “No’hings goin’ righ’, nah in my li’e. Imma…failure.”

“You’re not a failure, T,” Mack said quietly.

“Yeh I am. My dah hates me. My mohm’s scared of my dah. My grandfa’her’s in the ho’pital. And I’m…I’m…stuh ‘ere…” Trace mumbled, his eyes rolling to and fro in his head.  As soon as JC returned with the basket Trace promptly stuck his head in it and threw up, his body convulsing with every clench of his stomach muscles. They all made a face at the splashing sound which was quickly taken over by the sound of Rachel’s frantic footsteps moving back into the living room, a steaming mug of coffee was in his hands.

“Trace, try to drink this,” Rachel told him, holding the mug out.

“Rach, that’s not going to help,” Mack told her. “If anything it’ll only make him dehydrated. It’s best to let him sleep it off.”

“Well you know all about what’s best for people, don’t you?” Rachel muttered bitterly before setting the mug down. She stood to her ful height and pushed her hair out of her face, the clenched muscle in her jaw was twitching slightly.

“Excuse you?” Mack asked, lifting her eyebrows. She reached out for her crutches and managed to get herself to her feet after a little bit of struggle. Then she closed the space between herself and Rachel. “What’s your problem?” She demanded. If she didn’t need the crutches to stay up she would’ve hit her friend for her attitude.

“My problem?” Rachel repeated with a little bit of an incredulous laugh.

“Darlin’, maybe—“ Cal started.

“Don’t ‘darlin’ me, Cal,” Rachel stopped him, not taking her eyes off of the shorter girl. “My problem is you.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” Mack said sarcastically.

“Okay, my problem is that you’re back here,” Rachel told her, not trying to hide any of the malice that was in her voice and sat upon her words. “Ever since you got back everything’s been so screwed up and, like always, everything is about you. I’m the one getting married soon, I’m the one who’s planning their wedding but, of course, no one cares because they all care about you. Do you know how fucking annoying it is to finally have one thing about me and have it all taken away? The one time I get attention you have to come back and steal it all. You won’t even let me have this one thing.” She threw her arms into the air in frustration. “And don’t even get me started with him,” she added, pointing at Trace who was now on the floor and curled up around the trashcan. “If you hadn’t come back none of this would’ve happened.”

“Wait, you’re blaming me for something stupid Trace did?” Mack asked, her tone carrying incredulous words. Her fingers clenched onto the handgrips of the crutches. She couldn’t take the stares from the others but she didn’t know where else to look. She suddenly felt the feeling that she was beginning a free fall.

“Yes, I’m blaming you because you have him wrapped around your finger and you treat him like a fucking yo-yo when it’s convenient for you!” Rachel replied. “I don’t know if that’s what they do in the rest of the world but it’s not what we do here especially not to our friends. Why don’t you just…go home? Back to Orlando. You can mess things up there, I don’t care. Stop screwing with our lives just because you’re a fucking coward and always run away. So keep running, run until your legs fall off. You won’t be missed. Not by me.”

She turned and marched her way to the front door. Cal muttered an apology and moved past Justin and JC who watched with mouths partially open. Rachel had her hand on the door and it was halfway open when Mack finally found some words to utter after a brief struggle to breathe. “So…what, you don’t want to be my friend anymore?”

Rachel paused where she was and took a deep breath. Looking down at her feet she choked out, “I honestly don’t think there ever was a time I could call you my friend.” She pushed open the screen door and her footsteps faded as she moved past the porch. Cal gave an apologetic look over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.

“Ah, there’s Lynn,” Charlotte said as she set down her glass of iced tea. A tiny drop of condensation slid down the glass until it hit the pocket where the base and table met. She pushed back her chair, Cassidy and Abigail followed her lead, and hugged Lynn once she approached the table. “We didn’t think you were going to show up after a bit.”

“You said it was an emergency, and I agree with y’all,” Lynn replied as she sat down in the empty chair at the round table. Around them other patrons of the small café were talking and eating quietly. Lynn placed her napkin in her lap and opened up her menu as the other ladies got settled in their seats. She shook her head slightly; her blond curls bouncing with each turn of her head, and set the menu back down. “What an emergency it is. I assume you all have heard?”

“Cass told me this morning,” Abigail replied with a shake of her head. “It’s a shame. I always thought they’d be friends forever.”

“Well, what d’you expect, Abby? They were wrapped in a protective force field?” Cassidy asked with a lift of her eyebrow. “It was only a matter of time before something drove a wedge between them all. I didn’t think it would be jealousy, though.”

“What makes you say that?” Charlotte asked while tugging at the end of her long brown hair, a habit that she’s never been able to shake from her childhood. “That jealousy is the reason they’re on the outs?”

“What else could be the reason?” Cassidy replied. “There’s always been jealousy between them, a sort of silent competition. Especially between Justin and Trace, I’ve seen it for years. I’ve only paid attention to it recently. I always thought they’d be able to overcome it, maybe even talk about it, but I guess we were wrong.”

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up on them, Cass,” Lynn said slowly while looking her friend deep in the eye. Despite being friends with all of the ladies she was closer with Cassidy simply because their boys were best friends and they organized play dates all of the time when they were younger. Cassidy wouldn’t look her in the eye. Lynn pursed her lips. “I see.”

“I’m just saying…they’re not kids anymore. As much as we wish we could be there for them, hold them, tell them that everything would be okay, and fix things for them we can’t,” Cassidy replied firmly. She reached out for her iced tea but didn’t lift the glass to her mouth; instead she tapped her fingers against it. “And it kills me not being able to do anything but we can’t interfere.”

“I’m not just going to sit back and watch my daughter’s friendships deteriorate,” Charlotte said while shaking her head.

“If anything it’s her fault.”

“Excuse me?” Charlotte asked while blinking.

Cassidy nodded. “If your daughter hadn’t slept with my son and Lynn’s son and messed with their heads, as far as I can tell, none of this would’ve happened.”

“Cassidy!” Abigail scolded, finally speaking up. She was always the quiet one of the group, the sort of mediator. Always sat back and let others talk and spoke up whenever she felt the need to. “That’s uncalled for!”

Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest. “What is it exactly that you’re implying?” Charlotte demanded through clenched teeth, her voice tight and her southern accent coming out stronger as it always did whenever she was in some sort of distress.

Cassidy shrugged. “Maybe that your daughter should keep her legs closed.” Lynn and Abigail both gaped at Cassidy. She shrugged again and took a sip of her iced tea as an uncomfortable silence fell across the table. It seemed as if all the sound in the room had muffled or stopped completely at those words. Lynn had to look around to make sure that that wasn’t the case. Not that it mattered, should the girls get any louder and the whole county would know about their news whether they liked it or not. Charlotte was the one to finally break the silence with a little laugh.

“That’s rich coming from the one who’s having an affair with their lawyer,” Charlotte shot back.

Now it was Cassidy’s turn to become speechless. Her eyes widened and a red blush blossomed across her cheeks. She looked down at her lap as Lynn’s and Abigail’s both turned to her. She didn’t have to look up to know that they were staring and waiting for an explanation. She was seething. It was a low blow from Charlotte, but it was only revenge, right? She just dished a low blow as well and you know what they say about Southern women:

They don’t get mad, they get even.

“Is this true?” Lynn whispered. She reached out and put a hand on Cassidy’s shoulder. The brick wall she had up came crumbling down in an instant from that gesture alone.

“Things aren’t right…between us,” Cassidy uttered, her voice shaking. She played with the hem of her shirt. “We’re not talking like we used to. I don’t feel…I don’t feel loved like I used to. We’re thinking about getting a d-divorce, that’s how I met Boone.”

“Oh, Cass, you should’ve told us,” Abigail sighed.

“I told Char but I didn’t think she’d throw it back in my face,” Cassidy replied.

“You basically called my daughter a slut, I was going to sit around and let you do that,” Charlotte grumbled defensively.

“Now stop it, both of you,” Lynn uncharacteristically snapped. “Our children are already at each other’s throats, we shouldn’t be either.”

“Lynn’s right,” Abigail agreed with a short nod of her head. “We have to be strong, for our children. They’ve been through tough times before; they can get through this now. We just have to believe in them.”

“That’ll be hard when they’ve lost hope in each other,” Charlotte admitted. Her hands were in her lap and she was spinning her wedding ring around her finger. “I wasn’t going to bring this up but…if we’re going to sit back and let them handle this we may not have a lot of time left.”

“What do you mean?” Lynn asked, looking across the table.

Charlotte sighed. “Mack wants to move away.”

Abigail’s eyebrows lowered. “She already moved away to Florida.”

“She wants to move further. She told me this morning; once summer is over she wants to move in with her grandparents in Canada.”

Abigail and Lynn looked at each other before looking at Cassidy who looked deep in thought with her hand over her mouth.

“Do you still want to sit back and do nothing?” Lynn asked.

A white ball sailed through the air and landed on the lush green grass, rolling forward a few feet before stopping right at the edge of a small body of water.

“Goddammit!” Justin cursed as he swung his golf club over his shoulder. “It wasn’t supposed to go over there.”

“Well, you’re the one who hit it over there,” Chris spoke up from behind Justin where he was sitting up his own tee. He knelt to place his gold ball atop of it. “You have no one to blame but yourself.” Chris straightened his arms and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Justin rolled his eyes. “Really? I didn’t realize,” he grunted as she tossed his clubs into the back of his golf cart. He took a seat behind the steering wheel and waited for Christ to make his shot. He dragged his arm across his forehead and let out a sigh when he felt his sweat smear across his skin.

Chris didn’t say anything in response but glanced down at the ball once more. His body tensed and Justin knew he was about to swing. Clink! The club connected with the ball and it sailed through the air, becoming a small white speck the further it moved away. Chris brought a hand up to shield his eyes and watch where the ball landed. Unlike Justin’s shot Chris’s landed on the grass and stayed there.

“Perfect,” Chris said with a grin and then turned to walk over to where the golf cart was sitting. “Onward, driver!” He ordered as soon as he had sat down and brought his hat down lower on his forehead. “Geeze, man, how do you people not melt? I’m dying out here!”

Justin shrugged and pressed his foot on the gas. The golf cart jerked forward and the cool wind caressed their bright red, sweaty skin as they rolled over the grass. “You get used to it,” Justin responded shortly. He kept his blue eyes trained on the balls in the grass ahead of them. His fingers gripped tightly onto the steering wheel. So tightly that his knuckles had began to turn white.

“Ease off, J, before your hands permanently turn into claws,” Chris commented.

Justin sighed and let his fingers relax on the steering wheel before jamming his foot against the brake. Chris didn’t dare say a word when it came to the sudden stop that almost made him hit his head. Instead of continued through the game, watching as Justin steadily got worse and worse, missing easy shots and picking up extra strokes that he would normally avoid.

They were at their last hole now. Justin was grinding his teeth and grumbling under his breath, going on as if Chris weren’t there at all. Chris probably could have left ages ago and Justin wouldn’t have noticed. He was off in his own world.

Chris sighed and took a swig from his water bottle. Is this what life has done to him? Left him a bitter old man at the ripe age of twenty-one? Chris could practically see Justin wearing pants practically lifted up to his armpits, knee high white socks, sandals, and glasses perched atop of his nose. He chuckled at the image and got out of the cart all the while studying Justin’s face.

It was so stony it was…ugly. ‘Ugly’ and ‘Justin’ were two words that never belonged in the same sentence, any girl, straight male, or homosexual male would say. The scowl on his face gave his facial features a sort of grotesque look that was fit for Halloween or a nightmare. Not this reality.

“You know, I can feel you burning holes into the back of my head,” Justin commented without turning around. “I have enough, I don’t need two more.”

“I can’t help but notice you’re higher strung here than you were back on tour,” Chris commented as he tossed a water bottle over to his unofficial little brother. Justin caught it with one hand and squirted a stream into his mouth. His cheeks puffed up as he held the water in his mouth and gave the bottle back to Chris. His cheeks slowly deflated as his adam’s apple bobbed from swallowing the liquid. “I think this is the first time you were truly unhappy.”

Justin shook his head. “No, there was that stupid lawsuit against me,” he corrected Chris. “With that fan claiming I berated her and humiliated her.” He shook his head. “When really I just lost my cool for a moment and yelled at her to get out of my way. I was tired but because I wasn’t seen as a normal human being anymore it went that far.”

He slowly shook his head. “It’s almost as if as soon as one becomes ‘famous’ they aren’t people anymore. They don’t have feelings. They aren’t allowed to have a bad day. They aren’t allowed to be normal anymore…”

Chris’s eyebrows crinkled together but he stayed silent. He messed with his grip on the water bottle, shifting it from palm to palm to wipe his sweaty hands on his pants. Justin sighed and shifted his golf club and wiped his hands on his pant as well. He then rested it against the ground and leaned his weight on the handle. His eyes scanned the landscape around them in such a way it came off to Chris that it was his first time seeing it. Really seeing it.

“But I found that normalcy,” Justin finally continued. “In Brit.” He visibly flinched using her name.  Clearing his throat he adjusted his hat again. “Whenever I was with her…it felt like home. Like I was home. She knew what I was talking about when I discussed my home life. She understood the values I looked for, the things I wanted in life. She wanted the same things, Chris. I didn’t even have to look for someone like her, she fell into my lap! It was as if angels had created her specifically for me. I wasn’t Justin Timberlake when I was around her. I was just…Justin. Just Justin. She loved me for me, not for my name or my career or my money.”

He let out a breath and shook his head. As he exhaled it was as if the life in his body went with it. His eyes dimmed, his shoulder slumped, and it was almost as if one could really see weight on his shoulders. “And then I found out about what she was doing,” he sighed. “Not even from her but because of a stupid note I found. And she didn’t deny it at first. She didn’t confirm it either, but she didn’t deny it. And losing her hurt, but that wasn’t the worst part, man. That wasn’t even the fucking worst part.”

“What was?” Chris finally managed to speak.

Releasing a breath through his nose Justin shuffled his feet and then squinted at him. “The worst part was feeling that I was lost,” he revealed. “I know it wasn’t long between breaking up and coming here but…nothing felt familiar to me anymore. Singing, dancing…not even phone calls home. Everything was moving by and I was just…drowning. She was home on the road for me and suddenly home was gone. But then it made me realize…it’s just not the same thing as being home.”

Justin looked up at the trees surrounding them when a light breeze moved through the leaves. He stood up straight and took his golf club in his hand. He straightened his arms and glanced at the hole every now and then while shifting his weight. He drew back and swung forward in a smooth stroke. A shadow of a smile formed on his face when the white ball landed near the hole. The flag stood tall and proud out of the hole.

Chris whistled and held his hand up to shield his eyes. “Nice shot,” he commented aloud.

“Thanks,” Justin responded as she brought the club up and rested it on his shoulder. “It always takes me a little bit to get back into the swing of things.”

It was odd.

How was the sound of crunching tires over dirt and loose rocks so comforting? It was background noise, not something that one would notice. But it stood out against the whistling wind, the revving engine, and the drone of the buzzing cicadas. It was much different than the sound of a bus engine revving, the monotone hum which attributed many of Justin’s sleepless nights.

As he drove down the street he kept one arm extended out the window. It wasn’t an uncommon practice. In fact, there were moments when another person would drive by, their arm also extended, and a high five would come as a result.

It was enough to put a smile on anyone’s face.

Justin took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes scanning the road ahead of him behind dark tinted sunglasses. Everything looked the same. Everything sounded the same. But it wasn’t the same.

He sighed. Was the sky bluer? The trees greener? Was that annoying squeak coming from the air vent always that loud? He rolled his shoulders and straightened his arm, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel. Even the handling of the car on the road felt different, but he’s driven down this path before. Many times even. The pot holes are still in the same place. The phone line poles are still the same distance apart. The stores that he passed along the drive all looked the same.

But something was wrong.

Justin gave his head a shake and ran a hand through his slightly curled hair, releasing a breath that had just risen in his throat. Flipping his turning signal he smoothly changed lanes and then pulled into the parking lot of The General Store, his favorite place in all of Memphis to eat. They made the best burgers; he could never find a place that rivaled it, not even the acclaimed In-N-Out joint in California.

He got out of his car and closed the door. Striding towards the entrance of The General Store he pointed behind him and pressed the lock button on the little remote. The small clicking sound reached his ears right as he approached the stairs. A few older men were sitting on a bench outside, hat brims sat low upon their foreheads and beer bottles were clasped in their palms, little beads of condensation slipping down the neck.

“Howdy, howdy,” Justin greeted them, lightly touching the brim of his cap in greeting.

“Wonder when we’d see you back, boy,” one man greeted him, lifting his beer in Justin’s direction. “The real world spit you back out yet?”

Justin uttered a laugh. “Naw, not yet, sir. But I’m waiting for my kick out the door any day now. It’s only a matter of time until they realize they’ve made a mistake with me.” It was almost second nature now, wrapping his insecurities and ears in a blanket called humor.

He gave them a short wave and walked inside, heading straight toward the booth where his father, Randy, was sitting. He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat and lifted his hand in a wave as soon as Randy looked up and locked eyes with him.

“There’s my boy!” Randy said happily, moving to stand.

A small boy beat him to it. He crawled across Randy’s lap, dropped to the ground, and dashed over to Justin, all the while chanting, “Justin! Justin! Justin!”

Justin beamed at the show. “Hey buddy!” He knelt and held out his arms, scooping the little boy into his embrace once he flung his chubby arms around his neck. “Boy, Stephen, you’ve gotten so big! You’re a little man now!” He commented while shifting the boy so he was resting on Justin’s arm. “How old are you now? Five? Six?”

Stephen giggled. “I’m four!” he replied, holding his hand up in Justin’s face. “See? One, two, three, four,” he counted while pointing at his fingers.

“Four?” Justin gasped. “No, that can’t be. You were just a baby the last time I saw you!”

“I’m no baby! I’m big!” Stephen huffed, placing his small hands on his hips.

“That you are. And look!” Justin gently pushed down on his half-brother’s lower lip. “You’re missing teeth! Did the Tooth Fairy visit yet?”

Stephen nodded rapidly. “I gots fifty cents,” he relayed. “Am I rich?”

Randy and Lisa chuckled. Justin nodded. “You’re rolling in the dough, Little Man.” Justin set Stephen on the ground and looked to his nine-year-old half-brother, Jonathan, who stood by, his hands shoved in his pockets. “You’ve shot up,” Justin commented, reaching out and giving him a hug, patting his back a few times. He held Jonathan at arm’s length and looked him over. “You definitely have the Timberlake genes in you. You’ll be taller than me soon.”

Jonathan shrugged. “I guess,” he mumbled.

Chuckling Justin turned his attention to Lisa, his step-mother, pulling her into his arms and hugged her tight. “Look at you, you get more beautiful every time I see you,” he commented and then turned to his father, clasping his hand and patted him on the back in a greeting. “How’ve you been, Pops? Have they given you gray hair yet?” Justin teased, sliding onto the bench beside Lisa.

“I think my hair follicles will wait until they’re teenagers before changing,” Randy responded. “Enough about us. Tell us about you, Son. How is the tour and everything?”

Justin began to drum his fingers on the table. He shrugged. “Tour is tour,” he responded vaguely. “You’ve seen one city you’ve seen them all. We don’t get that many days off. All we see is each other, the stage, and our eyelids.”

“Not much longer now, is it?” Lisa asked. “Just a few more weeks and then the tour is over. What are you going to do with your time? You all are going on a break, aren’t you?”

Justin nodded and clasped his hands together. He looked down at his fingers, biting down on his lip, and then sighed. “Well, I was actually thinking of doing a, um…doing a solo record.” He sighed again, feeling weight drop off of his shoulders but then his heart started racing. He lifted his eyes to gauge the reaction of the others.

Randy lifted his eyebrows, Lisa let out a sort of excited laugh, and Jonathan and Stephen didn’t seem to be bothered by the information. They were playing some sort of game, battling with their forks and knives. Justin wasn’t even sure they had heard him. The sight made him smile.

“That’s great, Justin!” Lisa gushed. But then, a second later, her smile faded. “Are the others okay with this? Have you spoken to them?”

Justin nodded. He lifted his hat to scratch at his forehead and replaced it on his head. “Yeah, we’ve talked about it,” he responded, his fingers resuming their tapping. His eyes shifted around the store, taking in the orange and white UT signs, the road maps that adorned the wall, and photos of different scenes of Memphis. He cleared his throat and continued. “They’re happy for me. Excited for what I can come out with. It’s not all set in stone yet, I haven’t finalized contracts or anything. It’s all still up in the air.”

“Do you really think that it’s not going to go through?” Randy asked. He patted Justin’s arm. “You have a gift, Son. This is the Lord’s way of letting you share it with the world.”

Justin sighed. “I’m just thinking of my other options. You know…if things don’t turn out the way I want. I could always come back here…get some jobs around town. Work with Trace until I figure something out.”

Lisa gave a little laugh. “Now we all know that that’s not going to happen.” She gave Justin’s shoulder a squeeze. “You’re destined for greatness.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He smiled a little and she squeezed his shoulder one more. “We should order something, shouldn’t we?” She asked Randy. He nodded and got out of his seat.

“No, please, let me,” Justin said when Lisa started to stand. He got out of his seat and followed his father over to the counter, resting his elbows on the wooden bar. He looked over his shoulder and watched as Stephen rolled a tiny toy car across the table. His lips were pursed; Justin guessed that he was making engine revving noises to go along with his imagination. Jonathan sat in the corner, flicking a sugar packet. “They’re grown up so fast,” he commented, his heart squeezing painfully at his own words. He cleared his throat and fiddled with the brim of his cap.

“Yeah,” Randy said, nodding. “It’s like a blinked and they weren’t babies anymore. Stephen’s in daycare now and Jonathan is on a recreational soccer team and take Tae Kwon Do classes as well.”

“Damn,” Justin uttered. “Remind me not to get him angry.” He chuckled and scratched at his brow. He swallowed thickly and let his eyes wander once more.”How’s he doing in school? Does he still like History?”

Randy rubbed at the side of his face. “He’s doing well. Getting Bs. Yeah, History is still one of his favorite subjects but he’s really getting into art lately.”

Justin blinked. “Oh? That’s…that’s cool. Painting? Photography?”

“Drawing,” Randy said. “He spends two hours a day locked in his room just drawing anything that comes to his mind. You should see it. He even won third place in a contest. It was hung in a children’s gallery for a week. He was so proud.”

“That sounds great. I’ll have to see it some time.”

“I’m sure he’d love that.”

Justin and his father ordered food for the table and chatted about getting a hunting trip in before he got too busy while waiting for it to cook. Once it was brought out they carried it back to the table and dispensed it amongst them. As Justin held a basket out to Jonathan he noticed that his brother had began a pen drawing on a scrap piece of paper. He squinted, trying to see it upside down. What was he drawing, a tree? A house?

Whatever it was it was pushed aside for his food. The family generally ate in silence. A conversation would be brought up here and there but they would soon die out and the family would go back to eating.

Finally a check was taken care of and the group moved outside. Justin fiddled with his keys as he spoke to Randy and Lisa about his solo plans some more. The conversation didn’t last too long because Stephen was tugging on the end of his shirt. “Justin, look! Look, Justin!” Justin shifted his attention over to Stephen who was standing on tiptoes. His arm was extended, waving the small car in front of his face. “Look at this cool car!” His eyes shone.

Justin grinned and ruffled his hair. “Want to see a cool car?” He asked. Stephen’s eyes widened and he nodded. “C’mere.” He too Stephen’s small hand and walked him over to his cherry red ’98 Mercedes-Benz. His pride and joy. He looked down at Stephen who’s eyes now resembled saucers as they approached the car.

“Cooool!” Stephen uttered.

“Want to get in?” Justin asked. Stephen began jumping up and down in excitement.

“Now, Justin, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Lisa started.

“It’ll be okay, we won’t go anywhere,” Justin said as he opened the door and sat down on the seat. “C’mere buddy.” He reached out and scooped Stephen into his arms, settling the little boy down on his lap. Stephen’s eyes moved around the entire interior of the car before he focused on the steering wheel. Justin chuckled as he made more engine noises with his mouth, turning his hands this way and that on the steering wheel. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of Stephen’s head.

As he leaned back he noticed Jonathan standing on the sidewalk, looking through the windshield at them, a deep frown set upon his face.

Justin frowned as well.