Have I mentioned how much I hated not being able to do anything? Well, I’m going to say it again. I hate not being able to do anything. I can’t function without being able to do anything. I can’t relax without being able to do anything. I don’t even think I know the definition of the word relax. I’ve been released from the hospital three hours ago and I’ll admit I’m in a pissy mood. Stacey and Ford needed to catch their flight so we moved the reception before dinner and I couldn’t even give them their gift, which was a sort of tribute dance. But no, my appendix decided that it hated me and killed itself so I was stuck sitting in a fucking chair while the others and their girlfriends had the time of their lives. And now I was stuck sitting in the living room watching TV while the others got to play outside in the snow. My fresh, clean, untouched, Canadian snow! Life’s a bitch sometimes.

“Moooooom,” I called. She stuck her head into the living room from the kitchen. “Are you sure I can’t even stir anything?”

“You heard what the doctor said,” she said with a little smile.

“I’m moving my arm. It doesn’t take much energy to move a spoon,” I pointed out.

“Just listen to the doctor. Why don’t you place chess with Mike?”

I made a face. “I’d rather wear pink.”

“Hey, chess is not that bad a game,” Mike’s voice came from the kitchen.

“Coming from you that doesn’t mean much,” I called back. I crossed my arms over my chest and grumbled under my breath. At the end of the couch Nick smiled in sympathy. “Why do bad things happen to me before Christmas?” I asked no one in particular.

“What do you mean?” He questioned.

“Four years ago I fell down the stairs and got a hairline fracture in my leg,” I explained. “Carrying presents no less.” I rolled my eyes. “Three years ago, broke my thumb in a door. Two years ago, got a black eye from a falling bauble. Last year, now this is the kicker, needed stitches from hanging up a wreath on the door.”

“Stitches?” He repeated, looking as if trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, apparently there was some freak wiring sticking out of it. It fell off of the hook I was trying to hang it on. Scratched my knuckles.” I turned my right hand into a fist and held it up in front of his face. He leaned forward, going cross eyed to see. I laughed a bit at the expression on his face. A person going cross-eyed always makes me laugh for some reason. I let my head fall back and groaned. “God I’m so bored.” I looked at Nick. “How long are you staying?” Oops, I guess that was a little rude.

“You invited me for dinner, remember?” He laughed, lightly knocking on my forehead. I wrinkled my nose and swatted his hand away. “But I’m not going to leave you here by yourself if that’s what you’re asking.”

“My boys aren’t rude or anything for leaving me,” I said, slightly offended. “I don’t want them being in here with me when they can have fun outside.

“Well, they’re missing out on the best fun inside with you. They just don’t know it.” He patted my knee and stood. I felt a jolt in my knee. I was about to contemplate it when Nick tripped over Oreo who had dashed into the room and landed on his side to avoid landing on my puppy. He got to his feet as I laughed.

“Nice moves, Twinkle Toes,” I laughed.

He scratched his neck. “I meant to do that,” he said.

“Right, just like I meant to make my appendix explode and leave me stuck on this couch watching nothing but game shows.” I waved my arm at the TV where some contestants on Wheel of Fortune were being idiots, as usual. “Its honey roasted peanut butter!” I yelled at the screen as the contestants continued to get stumped on the Before and After puzzle. I groaned at their stupidity.

“You need a better hobby,” Nick said from the floor, holding onto Oreo’s front paws so he was standing on his back legs.

“Yelling at idiots is more fun though,” I replied, picking my nails. He shot me a look that I caught out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head when I heard a thud at the window above my head. I looked up to see Justin’s and Rachael’s faces pressed against the window, making grotesque faces.

“Hey Lynn,” I called, flipping them off.

“Yes, sweetie?” She called back.

“Your son and niece are on my People to Kill List,” I informed her.

“Ok, just try not to get blood on your hands before dinner.”

I chuckled and then winced at the pain in my side. “Great, I can’t even laugh now. Is this some sort of punishment from God for making fun of the all of the time? I’ll stop if the pain will go away. I promise.”

“That promise won’t last long,” Mike commented, leaning against the doorway.

“Says my biggest critic aside from myself,” I pointed out. He shrugged and smiled as I managed to sit up, freezing a bit as I waited for the dizziness to go away. “How’s Dad?” I asked him.

“He’s fine,” he responded slowly. “Why, are you waiting for his face to fall off or something?”

“No, but I’m waiting for the mask to come off yours, your real face can’t be as ugly as that one,” I shot back.

“At least it’s not as ugly as your personality,” he said in a sing song voice before smiling innocently. I flipped him off. “Your Dad’s cool, I might hire him to take photos for our new Ad You think he’d be into that?”

“Totally. Dad’s up for anything, nature’s his thing usually but Ads are his other specialty. He has a good eye for that stuff.” I swung my legs to the side of the couch and slowly got to my feet, holding my side. “This must be a punishment for something I did, I just don’t know what.”

“I don’t think what you did matters, I think it’s just you,” Nick joked from where Oreo was running around him and he tried to grab his tail.

‘Don’t make me throw a shoe at you,” I warned him. “I never miss.”

“So, let’s see the stitches,” Mike said in an excited tone.

“And have you guys stare at my stomach all night long? No thank you,” I responded. “When’s dinner?”

“Now,” Charlotte called from the kitchen. “Go get the others for me, please, honey.”

“I’ll get them,” Nick said, standing before I even had a chance to move. He walked over to the door, pulled it open and yelled, “Hey guys, it’s time for dinner!” Mike and I flinched when about five snowballs were flung his way and hit him in the chest and face before he tore out the door, screams filling the air.

“So, what makes him so special?” Mike asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Whoever said anything about him being special?” I questioned.

“Well, you neither confirmed nor denied it yet your defensiveness just confirmed it for me.”

“You and your freaky Jedi mind tricks,” I muttered.

“Learn soon, you shall,” Mike said in a freaky Yoda imitation. “You better hurry and choose your spot before the others come.”

“I gotta go to the bathroom first; it doesn’t matter where I sit.”

“Do you need help getting there?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a–”

“Porcelain Doll,” Mike interrupted me.

“I say that a lot huh?”

“More than you breathe.”

“Ha ha.”

After doing my business I went into the kitchen to see a lot of chairs around the table. I looked at Mom with raised eyebrows and she just shrugged, smiling a little. This was going to be a tight fit. Whoever sits next to me is going to hate it; I’m all elbows when I eat. I walked over to Dad who was sitting at the head of the table, as usual, and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and rubbed my hand. “Are you ok, Daddy?” I asked.

“I’m fine, Gorgeous, I should be asking you that question. How’re you feeling?” He asked, looking up at me.

“I’ve been better, I’ll admit that,” I said with a laugh. “Sometimes it feels like a raccoon is trying to claw its way out of my side and sometimes it feels fine. I’m more worried about conditioning afterwards.”

Dad groaned. “Sweetie, I don’t want you to jump back into your training regime once you’re cleared to start working again.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, at least not for long. I go off to New York to meet with the Jive people once January rolls around, remember?” I said, lightly flicking his ear. “Not only that but Ben and I are staring some press stuff for the movie.”

“Ben?” Dad repeated.

“Ben Affleck, remember, he played my dad in the movie,” I said with a tiny nudge to his shoulder. “How people are going to believe that is beyond me, I mean we don’t look anything alike, not even close.”

“That part won’t matter, it’ll be how you bring your character to life, which you won’t have trouble with, you’re a drama queen anyway.” I gasped as he laughed. “You know I wouldn’t say that without affection.” He gave my hand a squeeze and smiled. “I’m proud of you, you know. You’re only sixteen and you’re all ready achieving so much.”

My eyebrows slid together. “Thanks, Dad, but why are you talking like that?”

“Like what?” He asked. “I just want to tell my daughter how proud I am. Is that a crime?”

“No but…” I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence when everyone trooped in. Mamaw sat on Dad’s left, Momma on Dad’s right, Mike next to her. Everyone else filled in random spots at the table and I ended up in between Justin and Joey, across from Chris.

“It’s about time!” Justin sighed, reaching for a roll.

Quick as a snake Lynn slapped the back of his hand and said in a warning tone, “Justin Randall!” Justin muttered an apology and sat back in his chair as we snickered.

Bobbie lifted an eyebrow. “Your middle name is Randall?” She questioned, a snide tone was in her voice accompanied with a wrinkled nose.

“Uh oh,” I muttered.

“Oh boy,” Rachael whispered, lowering his head at an angle.

Justin’s nostrils flared as he glared across the table at Bobbie as JC shook his head. “I was named after my father.”

She just shrugged and leaned back in her seat as JC said something into her ear. Under the table I rested my hand on top of Justin’s clenched fist and gave it a little squeeze. It took a few seconds for him to unclench his fist and relax his posture.

“Ok, if someone would like to say a prayer before we eat,” Charlotte said quickly as Mamaw glanced around at everyone.

“May I?” Justin asked.

“Go ahead.”

Justin and Joey grasped my hands and I looked around to make sure everyone had each other’s hands. Bobbie looked down at Nick’s hand before finally taking his. He barely had a grasp on her fingers. He shot a look at me and I shrugged, closing my eyes and lowering my head as Justin said the prayer.

Once he said “Amen” chatter filled the table as arms shot out to grab at food before someone else could. Mamaw sat at the end of the table, criticizing both Mike and Philippe as Charlotte and Lynn talked about whatever it was that grown women talk about.

“So, Danielle, what do you do?” Bobbie asked over the chatter.

“I’m in the fashion industry,” Danielle replied. “Mainly merchandising but sometimes I get lucky enough to work in textile or I get to be a stylist for a day.”

“That’s so cool,” Bobbie said with wide eyes.

“What do you do?” Kelly questioned.

“I work for a few magazines,” she said with a shrug. “Mainly giving advice from normal everyday situations that teens write in but I also give advice on fashion and makeup and do-it-yourself projects.”

“Is it just me or does she sound a little braggy?” Justin whispered into my ear. I lightly elbowed him in the side and tried to hide my smile. He was right; it was as if she was trying too hard to impress us for one reason or another.

The girls continued talking about their jobs and what they’ve experienced with their jobs as the guys stayed strangely quiet. Even Rachael wasn’t talking, which was unusually weird of her. She’s jumping down someone’s throat, trying to pry into their business or talking about something she saw on TV or heard on the radio.

“So…what’re we doing tomorrow?” Chris asked with a full mouth, spraying bits of food across the table.

“Chris, stop!” Danielle laughed.

“Wha’? Am I bein’ ru’e?” Chris asked, chewing with his mouth wide open as Joey, Justin and I laughed.

“No you’re being…” Danielle paused to stuff food into her mouth. “Stooooopid,” she finished, spraying food into his face.

“Ugh! Danielle, we’re at dinner hosted by our very good friends, be more polite why don’t you?” He joked; wiping his face with his napkin as Danielle lightly hit him on the arm.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” I looked up and noticed Lynn looking at me. “Not hungry?” I glanced down at my plate. I barely even noticed I hadn’t eaten anything.

“I guess not,” I responded, pushing my plate away and looking around, noticing that the others were half finished.

“You didn’t eat much lunch either,” Justin added.

“How could I? I didn’t get to eat anything because my appendix decided to explode. It’s no wonder I’m so skinny,” I commented, pushing back my chair. Conversations stopped as they all looked at each other. “Geeze, relax people.” I turned to Mom. “I’m going to use the bathroom and then I’ll get the dishes.”

“You don’t have to, just relax,” she said, eyeing me in that suspicious way she had, as if I were taking drugs or something.

“I don’t know the meaning of the word, apparently. Mom, I think I can move a sponge without keeling over in pain.” I rolled my eyes.

“Ok, but don’t forget that Johnny and Lou are coming over.”

I froze. “What?” I demanded.

“Don’t use that tone with your mother,” Mamaw scolded.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Didn’t I tell you? Johnny said he was coming over to see how you’re feeling and talk to you about some things. I guess Lou wanted to talk to you as well.”

I could feel my stomach churning at the sound of Lou’s name. “Excuse me.” I pushed in my chair and walked out of the kitchen, up the tiny flight of stairs that led to a long hallway. Man, you say one thing and they’re looking at me as if I announced I had cancer or something.

I managed to get to the bathroom before I toppled over from exhaustion. Those doctors weren’t kidding when they said that the infection and the surgery and everything would take a lot out of me. I could barely even make it up the stairs let alone across the freaking room. I avoided looking into the mirror as long as possible knowing that I’d look like Hell, and I was right. Under my eyelids the skin was a little bit darker than the rest and my face had an overall tired look to it, like I had gone to Hell and back, at least that’s what I felt.

Letting out a long breath I managed to pull my t-shirt off over my head, only wincing slightly. I let out another breath, grasped the bottom of my tank top, and lifted the hem until I finally saw the stitches. The area around it was an angry red color, a little swollen. Black stitches were intertwined through it, popping against my pale skin.

A knock sounded at the door and before I could even say anything the door swung open. “Don’t you know it’s rude to…” my words died in my throat. “What’re you doing here?” I demanded, cursing myself at easily trapping myself in the small room.

“I heard about your appendix,” Lou replied. His eyes drifted down to my exposed stitches and I dropped my hands, keeping a firm grip on my shirt.

“I’ll scream,” I warned him.

“The only thing that’ll do is make your friends and family think you’re starving for attention,” he replied closing the door behind himself, practically filling the room just by standing there. “Which you are, in a way. I mean, no one gets sick nearly as much as you do.” A gross smiled formed on his face. “Now, be a good little girl and let me see your stitches.” I have to make sure they’re healing perfectly.”

I grabbed the closest thing to me, a bar of soap, and threw it at him, he dodged out of the way and I rushed towards the door. He grabbed my ponytail and I yelped at the hard tug on my head. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back against him, I fought to get out of his grasp but he was significantly stronger than I was.

“Just calm down, I won’t hurt you,” he said into my ear. I flailed as much as I could but I could feel my energy, or lack thereof, draining. I squeezed my eyes shut when I felt his big fingers poke at my stitches. I squeezed my eyes shut at the pain that exploded in my side every time he put pressure on them. The hand that was holding my hair in a tight grip let go and rested on my shoulder. “They’re still tender, I see.”

“What do you expect, I just got them done!” I managed to get out, loosening my tongue from its tied state. With a swift jerk I felt a hard tug on the back of my head. Tears instantly sprang to my eyes. “Please, just get out. I won’t tell anyone, please just go.”

“Now how can I believe that when you just threatened me a few minutes ago?” He questioned, pressing harder into my stitches. “You know, you’re very beautiful...” I could feel the bile in my stomach working its way up my throat as he tugged on the strap of my tank top. “For a developing girl.” My breath got caught in my throat as he started to pull the material of the tank top away from my chest. I twisted my head and bit down on his hand. He let out a groan of pain before grabbing the back of my head. I couldn’t move as he forced my head down against the side of the sink. He let me go and I grabbed my forehead, crumpling to the ground as it throbbed with pain and stars exploded in my eyes. I curled into a ball on my side, trying to get away from him.

Please, please, go away. Just leave me alone and go away! I tried to get my breath back as I heard the door open and felt the sharp edge dig into my spine before it closed again. I grabbed onto the little rug and managed to get to my t-shirt. I had pulled it down over my head when the door swung open and Justin burst in quickly followed by Dad and Lynn.

“BabyGirl, what happened? Lou said something about hearing a thud,” Justin said as he knelt by my side. His eyes instantly glued to my forehead and he pushed my bangs out of the way, whistling. “That’ll be one bruise.”

“What happened?” Dad asked, taking my hand and helping me to my feet.

“I, uh, lost my balance and hit my head,” I said, rubbing the sore spot. I winced and I barely even touched the skin. Great, just great.

“Come to the kitchen, sweetheart, you’re going to need some ice on that,” Lynn said. “Maybe take you to the doctor in the morning, just to be sure,” she added as we descended the stairs.

“No!” I said, shaking my head. Justin gave me a look. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m just clumsy.”

“I’ve never heard of a dancer who’s clumsy,” he commented. I stopped briefly on the stairs and looked at him. Something in his tone was weird, too curious maybe. He stopped at the top and leaned against the handrail a bit, staring at me, as if daring me to say something. I tore away from his gaze and followed Lynn and Dad into the kitchen where Johnny as talking to Mom, Mike, and Mamaw.

“Oh my goodness, what happened?” Momma gasped when she saw me.

“I got a little dizzy and I hit my head,” I responded. “I just need some ice and I’ll be fine.”

“Stubborn as usual I see,” Johnny commented, getting out of his chair. “When you get older do we have to put you in a psyche ward, Little Lady?”

“Last I checked being headstrong wasn’t a mental problem, it’s just a stubborn problem.”

“Well, it’s taken over your mentality so…”

I tried to kick him from where I was standing but even as my leg was stretched out the entire way it wasn’t close enough to do any damage to him. I almost fell over when Lynn pressed the ice pack against my forehead and some aspirin into my hand. I popped the aspirin into my mouth and swallowed them quickly, gagging slightly at the bitter taste.

“Well, it’s been a long night and I’m tired. Not only me, but the baby is as well,” Mom said getting to her feet, holding onto her stomach.

“I’ll clean the dishes, Momma,” I told her, putting down my ice pack.

“Thanks sweetie, goodnight.” She gently kissed my forehead and, with the help of Dad and Mike, went up the stairs, Lynn followed. Huh, and before Dad hated Mike. I wonder what’s with the sudden change.

“Where’s Lou?” I questioned Johnny which I hoped was in a nonchalant voice.

“Waiting in the car. We need to head out and make sure things are ready for the Backstreet Boys’ tour,” Johnny responded. “Which reminds me, tell Nick that he can’t skirt away from his duties much longer.”

“The underlying meaning to that sentence isn’t needed,” I pointed out.

Johnny merely looked at me innocently. “Stay in one piece for me, kid.”

“I’m going to lose little pieces of my sanity working with these guys but I’ll do my best,” I responded with a smirk. He laughed, gave a little wave and left the kitchen, moving through the living room, and out the front door. Chuckling a bit, I turned to the sink and made a face at all of the dishes that sat there waiting to be washed. Sighing, I reached up to tighten my ponytail and froze when I gently touched the sore spot underneath the hair tie. Yanking it out I threw it over my shoulder, not bothering to look where it landed before turning on the water and filling the sink.

I had my elbows in the water when Bobbie came into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator, moving things around as if looking for something. “What are you looking for?” I asked without turning around.

“Do you have any beer or wine?” She asked, standing, closing the refrigerator.

“Why?” I questioned, squirting so much soap on a plate it looked like a blue puddle.

“Well, Josh and I want to make our night together special so…” I rolled my eyes at the gushiness in her voice.

“No,” I stated.

“Um, what’re you saying no to?”

“No to there being any extra beer or wine; even if there were my parents wouldn’t let you have it and no to you thinking about being in the same room as JC,” I responded, making a face at the image that appeared in my head as I scrubbed at a plate, trying to scrub away the image. “No one is sharing a room in this house with the exception of Mom and Dad…er, Mom and Mike, ugh, whoever and Mom and Justin and Rachael.”

“Why are they so special?” She demanded.

I paused and looked at her. “Because they’re cousins,” I replied.

“Look, you’re only fifteen, right?” She asked, suddenly appearing by my side.

“Sixteen,” I corrected her, resisting the urge to turn the spray hose on her.

“Right, sixteen, sweetie, you’re still young, you don’t understand the feeling of when someone loves someone else. I, however, am twenty-four, and I know that I love Josh and I haven’t be able to see him in a while and I just want to–”

“I may be young but I’m not stupid, sweetie.” I gripped the edge of the sink so hard my fingers were staring to turn white, er, whiter than they all ready were. “This is my home and, as I said, I don’t want anyone sharing a room. Understand?”

She huffed. “You’re being really immature about this.”

“I said no! Which part of that do you not understand?” I spat, turning to her. I could wring her neck right here, I really could. I didn’t care if anyone saw or I went to jail for it, she was so damn selfish. I punched at the water, flinching slightly when it shot up into the air. I brushed past her, bumping her in the process, and stomped up the stairs. I paused at the little opening in the hallway that created a balcony over the living room when I heard her complaining to JC about how I “freaked out” over nothing. The bitch.

Suddenly a weight pressed down on my chest and I found it hard to breathe. I rushed into my room, and then into my bathroom, leaning against the cool door as I tried to grab my breath. It only came out as wheezes as the weight started crushing down on me. I flung open the door to the medicine cabinet and searched for the small white box.

I stood on my tiptoes and knocked it off of the shelf. I jumped back as the contents tumbled out: a few alcohol pads, some folded tissues, and the object I was looking for. I picked the razor blade up off of the floor and ripped open an alcohol pad, rubbing it against the blade. I may be doing something crazy but I wasn’t stupid, I didn’t want an infection or anything like that. I slide the blade across my wrist, marveling at how easily it passed over my skin as the blood bubbled to the surface. All at once the crushing weight on my chest released its hold and I let out a long breath as the blood started to slowly slide down my wrist.

I jumped when I heard knocking on my bedroom door. Groaning, I shuffled around; picking up the contents and shoving them back into the box. I ran my arm under the water, wincing slightly at the sting on my new cut. I dabbed at my cut as best as I could and rushed into my bedroom, searching for a different shirt. I grabbed the first one I could find–Lance’s gray Taz shirt (which he doesn’t know I have)–swapped shirts, and opened the door.

“What?” I questioned, tilting my head back a bit to look at Nick’s face. If there was any time I hated being short it was now.

“I just wanted to see if you’re ok,” he replied.

“I’m fine. I’m tired. I want to go to sleep,” I replied, closing the door. He shoved his foot in the way and stopped the door. “Nick–”

“I know,” he said from the other side of the door.

“If you really did then you’d let me sleep,” I shot back.

“No, I mean…” he lowered his voice. “About Lou, I know about Lou.”

I stared at the door before pulling it back open. “What’re you talking about?” I demanded, backing up so he could come into the room. With a push I closed the door but Oreo and Little J managed to get in before the door closed. Little J jumped onto my lap, moved in a circle a bit before laying down, resting his chin on his front paws. Oreo kept jumping up, trying to lick Nick’s face. It was cute. “Nickolas Gene Carter–”

“You know my full name? Where’d you hear it? TV shows? Interviews? Magazines perhaps?” He questioned.

“So I’ve looked at a magazine here and there, big deal,” I mumbled, feeling the area across my nose flame. I always blushed there first, like some sort of anime character; I get sun burnt there first too.

“So you are a fan of our work. Tell me, was it before you met us or after you worked for us?”

“Does it matter?” I snapped. “What do you mean you know about Lou? What’re you talking about?”

He paused, looking down at Oreo, before looking at the closed door and then looking at me. My heart squeezed when I saw the pain in his eyes. My heart pounded in my ears as I waited for him to continue talking. “After he got here he was talking to us then he randomly asked where you were. It was about, I don’t know, five minutes until he finally came back down, saying something about you hitting your head? Yeah, I remember hearing a thud.” It took me a second to realize he was talking to himself more than me. “He gives little excuses to check on you all the time. Wants to make sure you’re eating right or you have the right aura. Wants to come across as he’s taking care of you, like a good surrogate father should. Tells you not to tell anyone else what’s going on because he doesn’t want the others jealous of your special treatment.” He laughed bitterly. “The funny thing is that the signs are all there but everyone’s too blind to notice so you have to suffer alone.”

“Nick…” I couldn’t get anything out other than his name. My eyes must’ve been speaking volumes because he nodded slowly, a small sad smile on his face.

“I go through the same thing,” he admitted softly. “He…he touches me too.”