Jade is here, but the day isn’t going as well as I had planned. Actually, it isn’t going well it all. She seems bitter more than anything else. Bitter about the fact that I left her all alone. It’s really stupid, because all those times I talked to her on the phone, she hadn‘t given me the slightest hint that she was angry…she only seemed to care about how I was doing, and if I was okay. Now she’s totally turned on me. She’s angry…she’s miserable. She wants me to pack my bags and get out of here today. I know I could…

Justin left the house for the day. He said he had studio work to do…but I know he only left because he wanted me to have a day to myself with my friend. Lord knows I deserve it. No, I wouldn’t just run off on him like that. We’re different now…we trust each other now. There are no more fights…he doesn’t raise his voice to me let alone his hand. He’s gentle with me…and when he wants to go to bed with me…he doesn’t act like it’s something I have to do. Actually, when we go to bed now…its more of a mutual thing. I want to sleep with him now…I don’t feel like it’s my job. At times it feels like he’s my boyfriend…but then I wake up and remember the reality of the situation.

Do I wish he was my boyfriend? I just don’t know. I mean, I know him. I know that his mood changes faster than my clothes came off at Babes the night we met. I know I can sort of trust him now…but I don’t know if I could trust him with my heart like that…I don’t know if I could handle it if I ended up falling in love with him, and he decided to go back to being a fucking asshole like before.

No, I wouldn’t be able to handle that. I know it.

“What’s here for you Deja? Money…is that why you’re staying? Deja…I haven’t spent a dime of that money you gave to me ya know,” Jade tells me. “There’s enough there to last us for years Deja. C’mon…say you’ll leave this place. I know you hate it…”

“Dammit Jade! Lay off!” I holler. I’m pissed now. I’m pissed because she’s trying to act like my Mother again. Yeah, before…when I was living with her, I put up with it because she was the only person in my life. But now…I’m in a totally different situation. She doesn’t live here…she doesn’t know Justin like I know him. I just feel like she has no right trying to tell me what I should do. If I wanted to leave…I would. But I don’t…not right now at least.

She’s silent. She’s pissed. I can tell. “If you don’t like what I think…then why did you bother inviting me here in the first place?” she whispers. “What Deja? Did you think I was going to come here and be overjoyed that you’re still choosing to live with this guy who pays you to be his sex slave?” she asks me. “It’s dirty Deja,” she hisses. “It’s not worth any amount of money.”

“You don’t know,” I tell her.

She lets out a sad laugh and shakes her head. “I guess not,” she shrugs. “But I’m not about to stick around and find out.” She rises from the sofa. “You do your thing Dej…and I’ll see you around I guess.”

“Jade…” I begin. I can feel the tears forming already. I can’t believe she would give up on me like this. If the situation were reversed…I wouldn’t give up on her. I know I wouldn’t. That’s not what friends do.

“I’m done with this Deja,” she mutters. “I’m done hearing about your ridiculous crusades with Justin fucking Timberlake. I’m done lying awake at night, wondering if you’re going to be okay. I have a life to live too Deja. If you want to give all this shit up and come with me now…then fine, lets go. But I’m not gonna wait for you after today. You have to choose…it’s either me…the only family you’ve got or him...a rich pathetic loser who has to pay to get some.” She places her hands on her hips.

I am speechless. In the beginning, I would have already had my bags packed…and I would have been out the door the moment Justin left the house. But now…I don’t want to. I want to see him again. I want him to come home and tell me one of his dumb jokes. I want him to cook me a candlelit ham and cheese hot pocket dinner for two, like he did last night. It’s really messed up to be thinking this way about somebody that has treated me so badly. But as I mentioned before, things are different…so much different from before. I can relate to him a little bit. He was lost…hopeless…alone. Like me. It’s like we were these two souls that were fighting to simply breathe…and now that we’ve found each other, truly found each other, we can. Maybe….

Maybe I need him now…just as much as he needs me.

“Deja?”

I look at her. Images of Justin and I race through my mind…followed by images of Jade and I. I can’t choose. How can she be so selfish? How can she expect me to choose? I would never do this to her. Maybe she’s changed since I’ve been gone…Oh Christ, I don’t know…

“Are you going to answer me?”

“I can’t,” I finally reply.

“Fine.” She snaps. She says no more. She leaves. The door slams shut. The sound that follows is empty and hollow…

I am alone. I feel like my whole world has come crashing down around me. I cry…I cry for hours…and hours…

“Hey,”

I hadn’t realized I fell asleep. My eyes snap open. A blurred image of Justin appears. I rub my eyes. Yes, I’m awake now. I glance at the window. It’s dark now. “Hi,” I manage.

“How was your day?” he asks, moving my legs so he can sit on the sofa. “Did you and Jade have fun?”

I don’t look at him. “She left.”

He yawns. “She got tired huh?”

“No,” I whisper. “She just left.”

“Oh,” he whispers.

I look at him. He knows something happened. No, he doesn’t know exactly what it is…but he still knows. I don’t have to tell him…and I’m glad, because I really don’t want to talk about it right now.

“You know,” he begins. “If she can’t understand this whole thing…I can’t blame her…and I’m sure you can’t either. I mean…this whole thing is pretty unbelievable, ya know?”

He’s right…I can’t blame her. How could I expect her to understand all of this? I nod my head.

Silence fills the room quickly. I would try to talk to him…but I don’t feel like crying again. I cried the whole damn day. He knows this…because he doesn’t try to get me to talk. He simply pulls me close to him, and begins to rub my back in a soothing, circular motion.

“You’re not alone Deja,” he whispers in my ear. “I’ll be here for you.”

I look at him. I search his face for any sign of dishonesty. I can’t see it. I can’t see it because it’s not there. I kiss him. I want to…with all my heart I want to. Nobody…has ever looked at me like he just did. It’s not one of those looks that’s telling me he’s falling madly in love with me either…it’s just…a safe look. A look that’s telling me I’m going to be okay…that I’m going to be safe here from now on. That he cares now…

Our lips part. “Thank you,” I get out.

“No Deja,” he says, with a small smile. “Thank you.”

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

Deja and I got to talking one night…and somehow the subject of animals came up. She told me she never had a pet before. She said she had always wanted one. So I got a dog. It’s weird that I would because I’m never around enough to take care of one. It’s this little black poofy thing that Deja decided to name Foofie. She named the damn dog Foofie…I mean, is that even a name? I can’t complain though…I did say she could name him whatever she wanted. It’s a cute dog. One of those kinds that you can put in your purse. Deja likes to carry him around when we go out. She seems happy with the dog and I‘m glad…because it was more for her than for me anyway.

It pisses all over the place. But it’s okay. It’s not like Deja has to clean it up or anything. I’m past that whole “Deja is my house slave” stage too. I finally decided to join the human race and hire a maid. Deja was so proud. Her name is Norma, and she is from Mexico. Nicest lady I’ve ever met. And cook…lord can that woman cook. It’s a good thing too…because before she came along Deja and I were getting by on take out, hot pockets, and the nights I would invite Mom over for “dinner”. Mom coming for dinner of course, involves her bringing the main course…and cooking it too. Not that she minds. She loves to cook anyway, and I think it makes her feel better knowing that I’m getting a home cooked meal.

By now, she’s figured out that Deja can’t possibly be my maid…because I have Norma. She asked me if Deja wasn’t my maid then who was she and why was she living in my house? What did I tell her? Well…I told her that I’ve been seeing Deja for almost three months now. When I first told her, she totally reamed me. I can’t blame her of course. I mean, I think any normal Mother would have reacted the way she did, if they had just found that their son had been living with a strange girl for three months, for a completely different purpose than she was originally told. This is the second time I have ever lied to my Mother, and it‘s also the second time she‘s gotten the truth out of me. I still feel terrible about it, because it’s never been that way between her and I. Mom and I have always been able to talk…about anything. And if I had been in a better state of mind in the beginning of all of this, and had simply started seeing Deja instead of making her sign that stupid contract…I probably wouldn’t have had to lie to my Mom in the first place. My Mom’s okay with it now…I mean, she thinks Deja is a nice girl, and when she comes by, they seem to get along pretty well. It’s a good thing too, because I don’t know if I could take it if they were constantly at each others throats.

Mom doesn’t know about the whole contract of course. I could never tell her that. I mean, she would think I was some kind of monster or something. The only people that know about that are Eric, Lonnie, and Trace. I know that Eric and Lonnie won’t say anything…because they know a lot of the other stupid shit I’ve done…and they haven’t told anybody about those things either. It’s Trace I’m worried about. I’m afraid he’s going to get real pissed off one day and tell my Mom how Deja and I came to be in the first place. Sure, we’re cool…but that doesn’t mean he likes Deja. It’s quite the opposite. He’s still pissed about the day he ended up hitting her…and he’s angry that she takes up more of my time than she used to. It’s funny because before he pointed this out to me, I hadn’t even noticed. It’s true though…lately, I’ve been spending every free moment I have, with her. But that shouldn’t be a bad thing. Deja makes me happy. I haven’t been this happy…in years. Even when I was with Brit…I wasn’t this happy. I wish Trace could get past everything else and see how much she’s changed me. But he won’t. He’s stubborn…impossibly stubborn.

But then again, so am I.

It took Deja a little over a week to recover from that fight she had with her friend. She finally told me the whole story a few days after the fact. I understand where her friend is coming from. She’s tired of worrying about Deja, she wanted her to come home…and she didn’t like Deja’s answer. I can’t believe she chose me over her best friend though. After everything else…I didn’t’ think she would. I mean, she could have left…and I would have understood. But she didn’t leave…she didn’t do what all those other girls did to me. She stayed…and I have no clue why. I know it’s not the money…because that’s not what Deja’s about. I’m sure a three million dollar offer was the reason why she signed the contract…but it’s not keeping her here. She doesn’t say it, but she knows that if she wanted to leave, I wouldn’t stop her. At this point, it wouldn’t be right.

Pharrell Williams wants to produce my album. We had a lengthy conference call yesterday about the whole thing. I can’t believe it. He’s probably the most creative urban artist out there right now…and he wants to help me make this solo project the best it can be. He wants to put his beats on my album. The idea is so crazy that I can’t get to sleep at night. Actually, I haven’t had a full nights sleep in about three nights. I’ve stayed up…writing…playing the piano. Last night Deja stayed up with me. It was cool…playing my stuff for her. Actually, besides my Mom and Trace…Deja is the only other person that’s heard my brand new stuff. I think she really likes it, because she didn’t talk at all while I was playing for her. She just sat there, and watched. Yeah, that amazed look was there too.

Maybe she’ll end up inspiring one of the tracks on the album. Yeah, I bet I could write a song about her. About the way I feel about her…

There’s this benefit I have to go to on Saturday. It’s in LA. It’s this charity basketball game. I’m looking forward to it, because the guys are going to be there. I haven’t seen them in a little while. We decided to have a break…and it was a good idea. When I say break, I mean a break from each other. Yeah, I know we’ll always be friends…but before we made this decision…things were getting a little crappy between the five of us. We were starting to drift apart…we were getting sick of each other, we were always fighting about stupid pointless shit. If we didn’t take a break…we probably would have ended up hating each other.

I haven’t told them about this…my solo project. I know I should have told them that I was thinking about it…but of course, I was too much of a pussy to do it. Now I have to do it…I mean, it’s only right that they know I’m putting out a record of my own before the fans and the media know. I don’t know how they’re going to take it though. We always used to say that we weren’t going to do solo records until we put an end to NSYNC. I couldn’t help myself though. Clive asked me if I had been thinking about it doing a solo project, and I told him that I had. So he told me I should do it…he said it would be “good for the group and good for my image”. He’s full of crap of course. He just knows that if I put out an album that it’s going to sell…and it’s going to sell well. The guys are going to hate me for this…they’re going to think I’m stabbing them all in the back. But I have to do this…for myself. This is my dream. My own record. I can’t let anything stand in the way of it. It’s going to hurt like a bitch if they hate the idea though. That’s like having your family hate something you dream of doing.

I want to bring Deja to the benefit. But if I do that…I have to tell people that we’re together. I mean, I know I could say that she’s my friend…but really, I don’t think anybody would believe that. Just like they didn’t believe me when I told them that Brit and I were just friends. I mean, I have no problem saying that we’re together…because aside from a few technicalities, we’re basically a couple. It’s just that neither one of us wants to see it…or admit it. I need to talk to her about this. I need to know what she wants to do. I need to figure out what the hell I want to do…

Note to self: Do this before Saturday.

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

I’m out shopping and it’s weird. It’s weird because Justin is with me. He’s never come shopping with me before. Not that I’ve been out shopping much since I’ve been living with him. We’re having fun though…and as long as we’re having fun, and not fighting….then I don’t care.

“You like this?”

I look. It some basketball jersey. “It’s a jersey…you have a thousand jerseys just like that one at home,” I inform him.

“Yeah but…I might need another,” he tells me.

He’s acting really weird right now. He’s sifting through that rack of jersey’s like he’s never seen the damn things before. There’s something he’s not telling me. It’s making me nervous. “What’s going on?” I ask him finally.

He looks at me. His eyes are wide. “Nothing,” he says rapidly.

I roll my eyes. “Bull,” I mutter. I take the garments that he has selected and walk away with them. I don’t know why. It’s not like he expects me to carry his shit for him anymore. I feel him behind me. He grabs my hand.

“Deja.”

I turn around. “What?”

“I…” he begins, but then stops and begins to rub the back of his neck. He’s nervous. I know, because he always does that stupid neck rubbing thing when he’s nervous.

“Justin…just tell me what’s the matter,” I say.

“Come out to LA with me,” he says. “I have this charity thing going on this weekend…I want you to be there.”

I stare at him for a few moments. I’m both shocked and confused at the same time. Weird…he’s acting like he’s inviting me on a date or something. Oh….

I feel my face turn red. I never said I was quick. “Um…I don‘t…”

He smiles. “No right…that’s what I thought.”

Now he’s the one walking away. I stare after at him. I probably would have said yes, if I could have found my voice when he asked. Go to LA…of course I want to go to LA with you Justin. Damn it, why couldn’t I have just said something? Now he’s gonna think I hate him or something.

“Get that fucking camera out of my face!”

Justin’s voice startles me out of my daze. I look. There’s some photographer standing outside the entrance to this store. He’s snapping pictures off like crazy. Justin hates that. I learned this when we were in New York. He had practically knocked a guy over for doing that to him, and he would have succeeded if Eric hadn’t stopped the guy from snapping pictures off. The salespeople are frantic now. They’re pulling down the blinds, they’ve closed and locked the door. It doesn’t matter though, Justin’s still ripping pissed.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Timberlake!”

He glares at the woman. “If you were doing your job, that wouldn’t have happened.”

And here I was thinking he had changed. Good lord. I walk over to Justin, and pull him aside before he makes the poor woman grovel at his feet for mercy. He pushes me away.

“Get your fuckin’ hands offa me,” he sneers. “Stupid bitch.”

I take a step back. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought things had changed. I guess I was wrong. I guess Justin has just been in a good mood lately. I look into his eyes. They are cold and emotionless. I want to cry. We were getting so close…I thought I knew him…

“Get my fucking clothes Deja.”

I don’t know him at all. I shake my head. “What…”

“Do it,” he snaps. “It’s all your good for anyway.”

My mouth gapes. “Is this about…” I begin.

He walks away. He walks away like he used to, like I’m not even there.

With all the dignity I can muster, I silently carry his pile of clothes over to the register and get them paid for. When I get back to the car, I find him yakking away on his cell phone. He barely notices me get into the car, before he speeds off. I look out the window, and concentrate on trying not to let myself cry. What the hell happened in there? One person pisses him off and he becomes Mr. Asshole again? I mean, I can understand why he was getting pissy with the salespeople…but me? I didn’t even do anything wrong, except not answer his question fast enough. Not that that was really wrong. God…I don’t fucking know. Maybe it was…

Wait a second. Just wait a fucking second. This has gone on long enough. I’m not about to sit here, and cry, and let him act like this with me. I didn’t do anything…and we’re closer than this. He knows that. I know that.

I suck in a long breath, and turn to face him. He’s still talking on his phone…but I don’t really care. I rip it out of his hand and hang up on whoever it is before he can react.

“Deja!” he yells “That was my publicist you stupid…”

“Shut up.” I state.

“Bitch you…”

“Shut up!”

He is silent. I guess he’s not so tough anymore. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask him finally.

He snatches his phone out of my hand. “Nothing,” he mutters.

“Bull.”

He pulls the car over to the side of the road, and turns the engine off. “What do you care anyway?” he seethes.

“I never said I didn’t want to come to LA with you, if that‘s what‘s got you so pissed off,” I grumble. “You never gave me a chance to answer you. You were too busy getting angry about every thing else. I hate that Justin…I hate when you do that.”

“Everything else!” he whines. “You try to make it through the day without some paparazzi dumb ass flashing his camera in your face,” he crosses his arms across his chest.

“Oh I get it now,” I tell him. “Somebody does something you don’t like…so that automatically gives you the right to treat everybody around you like complete shit.”

“Not everybody,” he rolls his eyes. “Just you.”

My mouth hangs open. I can’t believe the way he’s acting right now. It’s disgusting. I hate…No. I don’t hate him. And that’s really sad, considering. “Bring me home,” I tell him, looking out the window again.

“Deja,” he whispers.

Yes, bipolar. He’s definitely bipolar. I’m going to tell him to shove whatever he has to say up his ass. Watch. “What.”

I never said I was smart.

“I…I’m sorry. I don’t know…I guess I just got mad that you didn’t answer me right away. I thought…well…I thought that you were going to tell me you didn‘t want to go. I didn’t want to hear you say that Deja.”

I make myself look at him again. Yeah, yeah, he’s sorry. He’s always sorry. “I was going to say yes Justin,” I tell him. “I was just a little surprised is all.” I look out the window again.

“Surprised?”

I smile. “I…I didn’t think you would want me to be seen with you like that.”

“But…I do,” he confesses. “I…you know…I can’t really tell you what it is that I feel for you right now Deja. But I can tell you that whatever it is…I definitely don’t want to pass it up.”

I feel his hand on my shoulder a moment later. I turn to face him again, and am immediately swept up in a long, passionate kiss. This time…it takes my breath away. Never…he’s never kissed me like that before. Our lips part, and I find myself not being able to feel my legs…my arms…anything. I’m in a daze. One of those dazes you only fall into when you’re in love.

Christ…I’m not in love. I can’t be in love with him.

Fuck. I can’t help myself right now.

“Don’t be mad at me Deja. I’m trying here okay?” he reassures me. “I’m trying not to be a fucking asshole.”

“I know,” I manage.

He smiles. “So…”

I smile back. “So.”

“Wanna go home and play Playstation?”

“You’re so random,” I laugh.

He frowns. “Okay then. Wanna go home and have sex?”

“Justin!”

“What?” he smiles. “I’m trying not to be random.”

“You know what’s gonna be random…when you show up with me at this charity thing.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head.

“Justin,” I say, shooting him a skeptical glance. “What are you going to tell them? That I’m your maid, and you decided to give me a taste of your lifestyle?”

“Nah.”

“Don’t even tell me you’re going to pull that shit about me being Trace’s cousin.”

He laughs and kisses me again. “Don’t worry Dej’. I have it all figured out.”

I pull away from him and fold my arms under my breasts. “Well tell me.”

“I’m gonna tell them what I tell everybody,” he says with a smirk.

“And that is?” Christ, I hate playing twenty questions with him.

He sucks in a breath. “I’m going to tell them all…that you’re my girlfriend.”

I am speechless.