Chapter 26

Room 34B: Staples Center, 4:02 p.m.

It’s only been the first day and I’m already bored out of my mind. Well, I guess bored is the wrong word. Frustrated is more like it. Not frustrated with the work or the schedule, but with her attitude. It’s not really fair to her, because I’m supposed to be supportive and sit here and tell her everything is going to be ok and encourage her and keep her calm, but after two hours of trying to do that and failing, I’ve given up. And this book I’m reading is starting to really get on my nerves. The main female character is whiny and needy. At least this chair is comfortable.

Meredith’s laying back on the couch across from me, staring at the ceiling with her hands clasped tightly over her stomach so she won’t bring them to her mouth to bite at her nails. The table in front of her is a small, wooden coffee table, littered with a bottle of water, a container of gourmet nachos she requested earlier and hasn’t touched, lip balm, a bottle of lotion, a Cosmo and an In Style.

We arrived at the arena mid-morning. The day before she spent the morning in rehearsals and the afternoon I packed pretty much everything for her while she said goodbye to Megan by taking her out to eat. Meredith had almost convinced her to stay but I told her to go. She’s starting an internship tomorrow and there will be plenty more opportunities for her to see her best friend on stage. I told her Meredith would understand and that she needed to think about herself and her career. I guess I shouldn’t have. I guess I work for Meredith and not Megan, but Meredith’s behavior lately has sort of put me off. I understand that she’s nervous as hell to start touring, but she’s been out of her mind, clingy, needy, whiny, a lot like this chick in this novel. She wants to be independent and I know she’s a great performer and loves to be on stage, but she’s acting like a child.

It didn’t help matters that Justin has been out of town all week. He arrived yesterday morning and they did rehearsals from the early morning until early afternoon. Neither of them were in a good mood and you could tell they weren’t getting along with each other. I was thankful Trace sat with me in the stands for much of the rehearsal. I know he didn’t have to, I know he had better things to do, but Meredith had begged me to watch her and tell her if anything looked off.

Nothing did, it was all perfect, and plus, I was much too busy having a conversation about Italian restaurants in New York with Trace to notice anything nick-picky. I almost lost my voice because I had to talk so loud over the music.

I haven’t asked her what the matter is yet because I know I’ll only get the response that she’s nervous, even when I know it’s more than that, and she knows I know that. So I’ve just kept her company, quietly sitting here, happy that I finished most of all the work I have to do today. The past week has been hectic and even though I’ve been sitting down much of the past few days watching her rehearsals, it’s just now that I’m realizing how good it feels to really sit down and actually relax. This room helps, too. I’m amazed by the way this room looks and how much effort the tour company put into her private dressing room and how much they understood her when she requested for a peaceful beach theme. Of course there are things like a clothing rack and make up and a mirror, but there are tropical looking plants and drapes across the walls in a light blue and lavender color that match the scented vanilla and lavender candles. It’s very serene and looks more like it should be part of a beach house than a random room in the underbelly of a huge stadium.

I close my book and move to set it on the table in between us. I steal a nacho while I’m at it. She hasn’t touched the damned things and it kind of pisses me off. She was flipping out about them earlier, telling me that whoever went to get them should be fired for taking so long. I didn’t tell her that it was one of her dancers, Abbie, who had been stuck in traffic on her way to get all of us lunch.

She’s biting on her thumb. This isn’t a good sign.

I lean back and stare at her for a moment before asking, “You need anything?”

She gulps and continues to stare at the ceiling. “Yes.”

“Mere…” I sigh. “What?”

“For time to speed up.” Her hands move to cover her face and she leaves them there.

“I’ve told you this a bazillion times. You are gonna do fantastic tonight.”

“Right.”

“Have you called your parents back, yet?”

“No.” She’s still talking through her hands, the sleeves of her oversized long-sleeved t-shirt cover much of her hands that are covering her face. She’s drowning in her clothes and if I knew she wasn’t just going for relaxation and comfort, and if she wasn’t wearing her gym-shorts rolled at the waist, I would really think something was wrong. She looks like she’s wearing pajamas.

“Mere….”

She pulls her hands away from her face and flips up on her side and stares right at me, passing me the most pathetic look I’ve seen in a long, long time. “It’s just, no one’s here. Justin’s whole fucking family flew out and here I am all alone.”

She’s such a bull shitter.

I smile at her. “His mom and dad flew out, not his whole family, Mere. And you know your parents would be here if they could and Megan is going to come to several of the shows later on. We actually went over the tickets she wanted the other day and I got that all lined up for her. And you and Justin both have a lot of friends who are gonna come tonight and be at the after party. Why are you so depressed? You should be excited.”

“Shit Court, I don’t know. I think my brain is going to explode.” She sighs, sits up and leans forward on the edge of the couch, picking at the open container of nachos, moving them around a bit but not eating them. She’s gonna pass out if she doesn’t eat anything before the show, but I won’t worry her with that right now. Hopefully, once her boyfriend shows up he can take over this sad little display of a pity party she’s throwing herself.

And it’s ridiculous and it’s only been lately that she’s been this way. Sure that first week we were together in New York she was a pain in the ass, but she stopped after a while. She tried to get to know me and she was always telling me what good friends we were and she seemed to have fun with me. And I’ll admit I was having fun with her. But the past week or so, God, she’s just been a nightmare. And as much as I don’t want to pry and as much as I want to try and keep this relationship on a strictly business and professional level, I can’t help but care about her a little bit. My elbow’s resting on the arm of the chair and I lean my cheek on my fist and stare at her. “What’s going on with you lately?”

She runs her hands over her head and pulls her hair into a messy bun before leaning back on the couch in a horribly slouched position. She stares at the coffee table and mumbles, “What if we do break up?”

“Oh my God, are you serious?”

Her eyes meet mine and I try not to laugh at her. If this is what’s bothering her, she really needs to get her head checked. She should have thought about this a long time ago. The day of her first night on tour is a little too late. “It’s a legitimate concern.”

“So, I spend all last week reassuring you that Justin’s happy to be on tour with you and now you’re not happy to be on tour with him?”

She stands up and immediately starts to pace the room. “I never said that!”

I want to laugh at her, but I know that’ll make her stomp out of here and slam the door. I don’t know. Maybe I am a bitch. I care about Meredith, and she’s a good girl. But she’s acting like a ten year old right now. At times I get mad at myself for calling her immature and then something like this will happen and I just realize that this girl needs to really grow up. I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there’s something more important underneath the surface that she doesn’t want to tell me about.

“If you keep acting like this and if you don’t calm down you’re gonna ruin your night tonight. You need to relax, maybe take a nap, go for a quick run, something or your gonna freak. And you guys gotta get on the road right after that party tonight.”

“Ughhh, I don’t wanna go.”

“Mere…” I groan. I feel like I’m babysitting. “Everyone will be there. It’ll be fun…” There’s a knock at the door and I push myself up and point to her where she’s now sitting up against her makeup counter. “I’ll get it, you just relax.”

I walk to the door and open it, hoping its not some random Make-A-Wish kid or one of the venue officials. As soon as we got here this morning I felt like it wouldn’t end, people kept coming to the door. I think it annoyed me more than her. It was the first time I really saw her with her fans. I mean, I’ve seen her sign autographs and stuff but that was always on her private time, or when she was on business at an interview or something. She’s different with these contest winners and stuff. She really tries to be interested in them. I was kind of proud of her. With the venue people, too. Most of the time she’s in her own world, not mean or a diva and bitching at everyone, but kind of aloof to all the people doing things for her.

So far, she’s been very appreciative to the crew and everything.

I open the door and I’m met with the biggest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen. There are roses in all sorts of colors and daisies and lilies and all sorts of things that I don’t even know the name of. The bouquet shakes a bit, laughs and says to me, “Sup P.B.”

It’s kind of amazing that the bouquet is big enough to hide most of Teddy’s upper body, but he pulls the flowers down and passes me a toothy grin. I’m not going to comment on the P.B. nickname. I know it stands for Pole Butt. He’s such a smart ass, but I’d rather have Teddy teasing me than really being mean to me. I sigh and say to him in a low voice, “She’s flipping out in here. Those for her?”

“Yup, got another present coming in a minute.” He winks and I roll my eyes and pull the door back and move out of the way so he can come in. He enters and I pull the door shut behind me. Meredith is staring at Teddy with a shocked look on her face and a tiny smile. He sets the flowers beside her and ruffles her hair, completely making her head a static mess. “Hey M.C.”

She doesn’t move and just stares at him. “Tell me you didn’t get me flowers.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and I laugh at them. They are quite amusing most of the time. The perfect odd couple: a gigantic black man from Detroit and the teeniest white girl from a small town in Georgia. Somehow they get along and somehow you can just tell when they are around each other that there’s this respect and this, I guess, love for each other. “And what if I did? Is that hard to believe?”

Her stare breaks and she shrugs with a laugh, “Kind of.”

I go and sit down again and just watch them. They really are entertaining. “No, they are a special delivery.”

“From?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes before shuffling towards the door. “Read the note. I gotta go play ping-pong with some of the guys.”

She scoffs back and crosses her arms over her chest. “You are supposed to be protecting me!”

“Eh, protect yourself.” He waves her off and exits the room, but before closing the door all the way he yells, “I’m two doors down.”

The door closes, she hops off the counter and stares at me while fixing her hair. “Did you know about this?”

“I’m clueless.” She’s looking at the flowers, smelling them and pulling the little card out of its holder when the door opens quietly and Justin sneaks in. I roll my eyes and pick up my book. Here we go. “They are pretty, though.”

“Oh my god…” I hear her say and glance to see Justin right behind her smiling like he won the lottery. I guess that’s a bad metaphor in his case. She’s still unaware of him and reading from the card and laughing. “What a fucking cheese ball! It says from you’re secret admirer.”

“What? You don’t like?” Justin says to her.

She squeals for a moment and turns around and hugs him and this time I really do go back to my book, trying to drown out her giggles and the sound of them kissing and being all affectionate with each other. “I love them! Thank God you’re here.”

I don’t look up, but since he’s here now, I guess I should pass the torch onto him to play comforter to Meredith, “She’s been a wreck, just fyi.”

“Court, shut up.”

I glance at her again and he’s holding her, kissing her neck, ignoring the fact that I’m here. She’s peeking over his shoulder trying to narrow her eyes at me, but there’s too big of a smile on her face. “I’m just giving him a heads up.”

I almost wonder if her whole bad mood this past week and today was because her time with Justin has been cut short. He’s been away a lot of the week doing interviews and promotion, but every time he’s been around she’s seemed happier. I really hope they don’t break up.

I can almost imagine it in my head, messy and hurtful. Lots of crying, maybe some broken glass, lots and lots of snotty tissues.

Ugh.

I read a page of my book and the heroine actually gets some guts to tell her sister what a bitch she is. I flip the page and then realize that it’s silent in the room. My eyes open wide when I hear a small “mmm” and the sound of fabric moving. I stare at the printed text of the book. Oh God, maybe I should quietly leave and not look back at the counter.

I shut my book and start to move but then Justin plops down on the couch in front of me and leans forward looking at the nachos which are probably soggy and disgusting now. “Who’s food?”

Meredith sits beside him on the couch, curled up, rubbing a hand over her shoulder. The baseball hat he was wearing is now on her head and she’s just staring at him while he stares at the food. “Mine.”

He glances at her with a smile then says in a funny voice that makes her laugh, “I’ll take some of ‘dem nachos.”

He eats for a moment and I pull my book back into my lap. I need to get another book or something that’ll keep my interest away from these two. I get another paragraph read, content with just hearing Justin crunch on tortilla chips, open Meredith’s bottle of Sprite that’s been sitting there for an hour and then burp loudly. It’s kind of sad when I’ve become content with hearing Justin Timberlake burp.

Then I hear a high pitched whine, “Justin, I’m nervous….”

I glance up. Oh God, I need a way out of here. Fast.

“Baby….” He says in the same whiney tone as her and leans back and pulls her legs over his lap. His hand lands on the highest part of her outer thigh, running up and down a little bit, making sure to go up under her tiny gym shorts. He kisses her, “I’m nervous, too. Let’s try not to think about it….” He smiles and then she smiles.

Fuck, I gotta get out of here.

I close my book and think about where I can go, ‘cause I know if I just get up without saying anything Meredith will ask me where I’m going and tell me that I don’t have to go and it’ll be awkward. Maybe I can say that I need to get something out of the bus, or that I need to make a private phone call or that…

“Court…”

I look up at the door and Trace is leaning in. Thank the dear lord Jesus.

It’s like he read my mind. I smile at Meredith. “I’ll be back.” She doesn’t look at me. Justin says something quietly into her ear and she bursts out laughing.

Leave everything behind Court. No need for your book or your purse. There’s no time. Just get the hell out of this love nest before babies start falling out onto the floor.

I almost run to the door. I step out into the hallway and shut it behind me and sigh. One of these days I think they’re just going to go for it right in front of me. I really think they don’t care. “Thank God,” I say with a laugh. “I thought they were going to ask me to video tape them having sex or something.”

He doesn’t laugh, but instead looks down at his feet, back at me, and suddenly his hands that were behind his back are in front of him, holding a small vase with two daises in them. “Here…”

I stare at the flowers and then at him. He’s blushing. He’s actually blushing just a little bit and I can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers. I don’t count Justin’s funeral bouquet—excuse me, I mean the, “I’m sorry for yelling at you” bouquet that Mere made him get me—as really giving me flowers. That was forced. “What the hell is this?”

Shit. I didn’t really mean for it to come out that way, but I can’t help it. I’m wondering what the catch is.

“Nothing romantic, just because I know you’re stressed, too,” he rushes to say. “And I know how they can get and act like it’s all about them.” He nods over to Meredith’s closed door and I can’t help but just stare at him. Is he serious? He looks back at me for a moment, sets the flowers on the small folding table beside Meredith’s door and shrugs. “Ok, ok. I stole them from Justin’s bouquet, but they'll never know.”

As much as I love the fact that he thought about me enough to put two little daisies in their own cheap plastic vase, something tells me to back off. It’s random and it doesn’t make sense. We’ve both been busy and I haven’t seen him all that much lately. Sure we got to sit and watch them rehearse yesterday, but other than that, he’s been with Justin in New York promoting his single and I’ve been here with Meredith. It just doesn’t make sense. We haven’t really moved on or past the whole being just friends thing. I mean, it’s weird really. We fought because he assumed I wanted a real relationship with him, when he wasn’t ready. Which is a crock of shit.

I mean, sure I’d like to have a boyfriend. Sure I get jealous and need to flee the room whenever Meredith and Justin are together. It’s just hard, cause yeah, it makes you realize how alone you are. But I’m ok. I’m not crying my eyes out and I don’t want a man who’s so unsure of himself and unsure of what he wants that he can’t even understand me. He claims I’m the one pushing him into something more than he can give. Well he’s the one who comes after me. And he’s the one who’s giving me flowers.

And he’s the one who every conversation we have, he throws some flirty sexual remark, even when he’s trying really hard not to.

I eye him suspiciously. He comes up beside me and suddenly we’re walking down the hallway, past Teddy’s noisy game of ping-pong in the game room, past the room labeled as Justin’s, past the small dining room that looks more like a cafeteria and towards the entrance to the inside of the arena. He doesn’t say a word and that proves it to me. He’s up to something.

“When was the last time you gave somebody flowers?”

“My momma for her birthday a few months ago.” He turns to me and stops right in front of the double doors that have been locked into an open position where roadies are going in and out of it. “It doesn’t mean anything, I just thought you'd like to have a little something to yourself to put wherever you want it.”

I only nod and he continues out into the arena back behind where the band will be set up near this insanely large curtain. I have no idea why we are here. I guess this is where we won’t be bothered. People are too busy working to stop us and try to have a conversation with me or especially Trace, since he seems to know everyone and everything that’s associated with this place and this tour. There’s even parts of Meredith’s crew and team that I don’t know that he does. But since we’re here and he’s sitting down on the elevated black platform that the drum kit is on, and there are no distractions, I know that Trace is up to something.

He pats the space beside him and I sit down cautiously.

We don’t speak and just sit listening the yells of roadies and some microphone checks. Everything is set up for tonight, at least I thought, but there are still people running around with wires and boxes. Finally, I hear him sigh and I look over and he’s rubbing his forehead, “I gotta ask you something and I don’t want to offend you.”

Great.

I knew it. “Um…okay.”

“Well, I don’t know if Mere talked to you about this, but she called me this morning and she really wants to ya know, have some alone time with Justin tonight on the ride to Vegas.”

“She doesn’t have to get permission from me to spend time with her boyfriend, Trace.”

He sighs again and stares at me. “She wants to fuck him, Courtney.” I laugh loudly and cover my mouth with my hand. I really wasn’t expecting that and I really don’t know what the hell that has to do with me. Maybe I was right. Maybe they do want me to video tape them.

I’ve spent too much time with this crowd. I’m turning into a pervert. I use to never laugh at sexual jokes. I use to never say them to myself. This can’t be good.

He continues, “So, I need a bus to ride on.”

Oh. The humor immediately leaves and I start to realize that by ‘alone’, Meredith really means alone.

But I still don’t know what this has to do with me, especially since she’s riding on Justin’s bus tonight. He’s giving me this look. This sad, pathetic little look. Yeah, I see what he’s up to.

And the flowers and the look, none of it is gonna work.

I roll my eyes at him and he sighs, “I guess I can just ask Marty and the guys if I can ride with them.”

“You’re really good at that guilty thing.”

He bites his lip. Clearly he took the sarcasm of my previous statement as encouragement. “I just thought we could watch a movie together or something.”

I nod. “And I thought you were supposed to stop hitting on me.”

He shrugs, but looks the other way. “I’m not hitting on you.”

“Then what would you call it?”

His hand smacks the box we are sitting on and he whips his head around and says bitingly. “You know what? It’s ok. I just wanted to hang out, but I can see you’re already making it complicated.”

I scoff at him. He’s being ridiculous. Sure I’d like to spend some time with him, but I know if we get on a bus together with a huge bed tempting us in the back of it and a nice big screen TV, opposed to tiny cramped bunks, well I’m not sure what would happen. And I’m trying to keep us at the friend level so then once we deal with that we can figure out if the level above that is good for us. I like Trace. I think that’s pretty obvious. But I just can’t do this bull shit anymore. I gotta set some boundaries for us, since clearly he doesn’t know how to give himself any.

“Well I highly doubt Meredith would want either of us sleeping in her custom made bed with her specialty pillows and linen sprays. And it’s gonna be a little awkward with just me and you hanging out in bunk beds while George drives us around. It’ll just be weird, sorry.”

He opens his mouth to say something but I hear above and behind me. “What the hell are you two doing?”

The box we’re on has a metal railing a few feet behind where we are sitting to protect the drummers. Justin’s leaning against that railing disguising his desire to throw me dirty looks with looking curiously at Trace.

“Aren’t you supposed to be relaxing and keeping calm with your woman?”

“Angie called and she got all pacing and distracted.” His eyes dart to mine and I stare him back. I’m not afraid of Justin, and I’m really getting tired of his death glares.

He doesn’t break it and I know he’s silently telling me to get the fuck away. I might not be afraid of Justin, but at the same time, I really don’t want to argue with him. I look at Trace and he’s looking in between us like we have some secret he’s not in on. I realize I should probably go see what Angie wanted from Meredith. Plus, this is a great way to escape any more bus ride begging. ‘Cause I’m afraid my resolve might break if he keeps lathering on that desperate look. “Yeah….I’m just gonna go.”

I stand up and feel a hand on my arm near my elbow. I look down. “No, why are you going?” he says softly. “You didn’t do anything.”

I say softly back to him, “I’m not wanted here.”

He stares at me hard, then stands up and looks up at Justin who’s sitting on the drum stool, letting it slowly turn him in a circle while he twirls a drumstick in his fingers. Trace crosses his arms and says in a voice that I’m surprised of and actually a little happy to hear. “Me and Courtney have to sort out a couple of things Jay.”

His back is to us as the chair keeps turning but now it starts to really slow down. Ha. Spinning in a swivel chair. What a five year old. “Huh?”

But I don’t want him doing this. While I’m happy Trace is sort of sticking up for me to Justin, I want to leave. I want this conversation to end. I don’t want him on my bus tonight. “Sort out? There’s nothing to sort out Trace. And I get really uncomfortable when he comes around and treats me like shit for no reason. So I’m just gonna leave.”

The chair stops. Justin puts down the drum sticks and bends down in between the metal railing to step down to where we are. He looks like someone getting into a boxing ring. “Whoa. Hold up. I didn’t do a damn thing.” If looks could kill I’d be dead a long, long time ago, already in the ground, tombstone and all.

Well, here we go.

I’m tired of the death stares, so if he wants to start this up, ya know, I think I just might be up for the challenge. “I’ll tell you what you did. You think my friendship with Trace is some kind of crime!”'

He laughs this cocky laugh that makes me hate him even more. I know why Meredith likes him but good God I wish she weren’t dating him so I could really hurt this man. He shrugs. “No, not a crime. I just don’t think you’re the sort of girl he’s into. And I’ve known him for a long, long time.” He laughs again. “I mean let’s be honest. He likes sweet, nice, laid back girls. And you’re kind of stuck up, Courtney. And selfish.”

I take it back. I don’t know what the fuck she sees in him.

I laugh bitterly and love how Trace is just standing back, watching all this. “Oh I’m selfish? Explain that to me. I’d love to hear your theory.”

“Well, for starters you are so fucking jealous of me and Mere that you’ll do anything to keep her to yourself and push me out of the way just so you don’t have to think about the fact that you’re all alone and she has someone. It’s kind of lesbianish the way you hog her all the time.” He hits Trace in the chest lightly with the back of his hand. “Tell her. Tell her what you said the other night.”

Oh, hell no.

I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow at Trace. “Excuse me?”

Trace is staring at Justin wide-eyed. “Ya know, Trace. What you said about her being desperate for attention.”

He looks at me and in a panicked voice says, “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Oh really? Then how the fuck did you mean it, Trace?” He looks down at the floor and I take a step towards both of them. “‘Cause, ya know, clearly I’m the one who goes around here flaunting myself to everyone and flirting with every guy I see, ‘cause I’m so fucking desperate.”

Justin nods at me. “Yeah, maybe you should just do yourself a favor and find a different line of work.”

I can’t fucking believe this right now. Justin’s staring me straight in the eye and Trace is still looking at the floor. I shake my head. I don’t know why I expected more out of him.

“Typical,” I mutter and leave. I can’t handle this. I pivot around and march straight for the doors we came in. I see Meredith strolling out with her Sprite in hand, her shirt sleeves pushed up to her elbows. She slightly waves at me but drops her hand and watches me as I ignore her and try to storm past her.

I don’t get anywhere though. Her arm shoots out and locks onto mine and she tugs me in close to her. “What’s the matter?”

I shake my head and pull away. “I just need some fresh air.”

She looks at me and then looks out to the back side of the stage and then back at me. “Hell no. You’re coming with me.”

She grabs my arm, roughly. It almost hurts and I feel immediately like I need to break from her and run. But I know I can’t. I know if I do she’ll just chase me down and order Teddy to put me in a head lock. Shit, I don’t want her getting into this and taking Justin’s side. She still holds my upper arm when we approach Justin, who’s laughing and patting Trace’s back. Trace is still looking at the floor. Meredith just stares at them for a moment until they notice us. Then she lets go of me and waves her arms around.

“What the fuck did you do?” She stares straight at Trace. His mouth opens and then shuts. She turns to Justin and points to him. “And what the fuck did YOU do?”

He puts his hands up in defense. What a fucking loser. He was the one who started this shit. “Baby, I didn’t do a thing. Don’t get mad at me!”

She crosses her arms over her chest, taps her foot and looks around at all of us like she’s our mother and we got caught trying to sneak in past curfew. In a way, I sort of feel like she is my mother right now. “Someone needs to tell me what’s going on here!”

I shake my head. I don’t want her being my mother. When Meredith starts mothering me I know something is wrong. “It’s nothing, Mere.” I force a smile. “I just need to go lay down, ok?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Oh yeah right. It’s just nothing, nothing that you’re storming mad as a hornet out of here. I really don’t fucking appreciate this! It’s my first night and you all know that I’m a nervous wreck, that I’ve been this way all week, that I’ve thrown up twice today already. And here you all go, pissing off my assistant. I need her right now. I don’t need you two bullying her around. I need her to be calm so I can be calm. You’re both fucking idiots. I don’t even know why I’m bothering right now.”

They both just stare at her. Trace looks ashamed and Justin is looking at her in disbelief, disbelief that she would stick up for me. I can’t say that I’m not a little shocked myself, but I guess I need to give her the benefit of the doubt more often. I know she likes me, and I know she cares about me, and I know even though we’re really different a lot of the time, she knows when her boyfriend is being a dick and she’s not afraid to call him out on it, at least not anymore.

But Justin’s just staring at her and it’s almost pissing me off how he assumes that she would just come up and hug and kiss him and be all lovey. Does he not realize that his girlfriend is a lot smarter than that? I decide to do something immature. I want to piss him off even more. Now that he knows Mere’s gonna stick up for me, it’s like she’s my bodyguard. As long as she’s around, I can do whatever the hell I want to poor little Justin.

And he can’t do a thing.

I go and put my arm around his shoulders and lean against him like we’re grand old pals. I can feel his muscles tighten in his shoulders. “He was just making me upset because he kept saying how much you were going to show him up tonight, and I told him that you guys are both equally good and that I don’t want him making this a competition between you two.”

Meredith raises an eyebrow at me and then busts out laughing. “You’re probably the worst liar in the history of the world.”

I laugh with her and look at Justin. His jaw is locked and he’s just staring straight in front of him. Trace is looking at me as if to say, “what the hell are you doing?”

Meredith starts to laugh even more and comes up and smiles at him. “Oh my God, Justin. Stop looking so terrified. She doesn’t have cooties. Stop acting like a five year old.”

“Everything is fine,” I say. “I’m just going to go back to the bus and lie down ‘cause I have a bit of a headache, ok?” I pull away from Justin and turn to pat him on the head. He glares at me and I know I better start my funeral arrangements. “Be a good boy, ok?” I laugh, look at Trace for a moment and walk past all of them. I can hear Justin yelling to me, “You’re weird,” and then hear Meredith say, “Hey!” defensively and then laughter.

I just roll my eyes. They’ve all moved on now, all forgotten about me and how they treated me like shit. It’s ok. I really do need a nap because I have no idea how well I’m going to sleep on a bus tonight. I make it back towards Meredith’s room and almost go in to get my stuff and take it to the bus. My flowers are still sitting there on that table. Untouched and smiling at me. They make me happy for a moment, then I realize that he was just giving me those to butter me up about the bus thing.

I hear behind me, “Come on girl, wait up.”

I keep walking. I hear his footsteps behind me and soon he’s right beside me, keeping up with my quick pace and trying to talk to me. I ignore him, completely tone him out until we get near the exit.

I cut him off when we get outside. “I’m not a weak person, Trace. How dare you tell someone else that I seem desperate? Especially Justin. I'm trying my hardest to be a good friend to you, you could try doing the same without letting your dick get in the way, or letting your fucking best friend get in the way."

He whips around in front of me and puts his hands up. There is an angry look in his eyes. “Now hold up.”

I push past him and walk straight to the bus, thankful the doors are open. I call back to him. “You might wanna start asking around about extra bunks, ‘cause you sure as hell aren’t sleeping here tonight.”

“He twisted my words around if it even matters to you!”

I stop on the first step of the bus and turn. I really can’t believe he was telling Justin I was desperate for attention, or whatever the hell he said. How dare him? He doesn’t even know what he’s talking about. “You shouldn’t have even been talking to Justin about me in the first place!”

He marches straight up to me. “Oh hell naw. You’re the one who was bitching at me just two weeks ago about how you hated that I wouldn’t talk to Justin. Well fuck that! You think I was too ashamed of you to talk about you to him and…and now you’re mad at me for not being ashamed, for actually talking to him and trying to explain to him how I feel about you! You’re a fucking mind trip Courtney Dawson.”

“I was bitching at you because you wouldn’t admit that you liked me! I never, ever told you to go and tell him about me or repeat things to him that I told you in confidence. And I certainly don’t want you trying to explain anything to that asshole. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with you!”

We’re both breathing hard, glaring at each other and I feel like I might punch him. In fact, I almost do.

But he beats me to it.

He steps up and kisses me. Hands on both sides of my face, holding me against him, sucking the breath out of me, devouring me. It feels like a blow to my gut.

I push him away and he stumbles back. I wipe at my mouth.

He…he can’t do that. He just can’t.

“Don’t you dare.”

He punches the air and scowls at me. “Fucking fine!” he yells and I turn and stomp up into the bus. I…I can’t handle this. I can’t handle any of it.

It’s too much. I never in my life thought that working for a pop star would bring this much drama into my personal life. And…and I never thought one man could make me so fucking livid that I could rip my hair out and…and at the same time be so completely wonderful and sweet and pathetic and make me want him so fucking bad.

I hate this.

I have to quit. I just have to. I just have to leave right now.

I sit down on the couch and pick up one of Meredith’s fluffy throw pillows and pull it to my face, trying to suffocate myself.

Instead I just scream into it.

And to think, I have another month and a half of this. Of Meredith and Justin off having sex. Of Justin plotting my murder. Of Trace….standing there, begging me to forgive him, frustrated with me, kissing me. God dammit he was right. I am desperate for attention, for his attention. But when I get it, I just…I get scared. I don’t know what to do with it and I don’t know what that attention means, what signals he’s sending me, what he really wants from me. I hate being clueless.

I sigh and lean back on the couch and stare at the ceiling.

“Fuck…”