Meredith’s Dressing Room, 3:58

I've had this happen to me once before. It was the summer after my senior year in high school. The A/C stopped working in my room at my parents’ house. This was when I lived upstairs. Being the only child, my parents spoiled me, well without really spoiling me. I had the biggest bedroom in the house and it was on the side of the house that got the most sun. But the A/C busted and our electrician, my dad's buddy, was on vacation that week. So instead of finding someone else to fix it, they put fans in my room, and I spent most of the days, and some of the nights, downstairs on the couch. Sometimes, though, I'd stay in my room, wearing only underwear or a bathing suit, with the fan on high, facing straight at me.

As long as I stayed still I was fine. It never seemed to get too hot, even though it was over 100 outside, and inside it was just about the same. No open window would cool me off because with no breeze the Georgian summer humidity would seep right in. It was like sitting in a hot bath, all day. It's not as pleasant as it sounds.

But the A/C got back working as soon as my dad's buddy came back from the beach. A month later I moved up north for school and it was me who told my parents to move up to the big room upstairs. I took the guest bedroom downstairs; it’s where I sleep now when I'm at home. And my parent’s old room is now the "office", or really just another room with a recliner and a TV for dad to hang out in when mom doesn't want to watch racing with him.

I don't know why I'm thinking about them now. I guess it's because I just left them. I always seem to miss them more right after I've left them. I could go 6 months without seeing them and I'll miss them more that first month than I will the 5th. It's weird.

I guess I'm just thinking about mom and dad because of how hot this dressing room is, memories or something. It's weird, too. The rest of the arena and backstage area is cool, nice, actually a little too cool for me and I felt chill bumps on my skin earlier in the hallway. But my room feels like the heat is on. The heats not on but they think there might be something wrong with the A/C wiring, whatever that means. What it means is that there is no A/C in this small room.

I sit in front of the fan and sigh. It's summer and we're in Philly and it’s really too fucking hot to have this happen to me today.

The last thing I need is people fussing over me, worried about "heat exhaustion" or whatever.

I look over at Courtney and she's leaning against the counter, arms over her chest. I can't imagine how she's not sweating in her pants and button down shirt. I'd be dying. Hell, I'm in shorts and a tank top and I am dying! She's staring at the lower half of a man who's hanging out of the ceiling panels of my dressing room, perched on a ladder.

I look into the fan and say, "Lukkkeee, I am your father." I laugh and it sounds choppy in the fan.

Courtney rolls her eyes at me but smiles. I'm glad things are ok right now. At least everything seems ok between everyone. It’s hard to tell. Really hard. I have a hard time figuring out what she's really thinking about me. I know she thinks I'm pathetic because I flipped out about the pregnancy thing. But that's how I dealt with it. It's over now.

I panicked. And I know it wasn’t the best way to handle the situation, so I’m really trying to work on being overexcited about stuff and overreacting all the time.

The guy starts to move down the ladder and he comes down to the floor. He sighs and turns off the flashlight in his hand and sticks it in the tool belt by his side. “I’m sorry. We’re going to have to call our electrician in. It looks like something’s frayed in here and we don’t want an electrocution on our hands.”

“So it’s busted until…” Courtney says in this completely professional voice. It makes me giggle a little, but I hold it inside. I just don’t think I could ever be as serious as she is in my life.

The poor maintenance guy, Bill, his patch name tag says, is sweating like mad and runs his forearm over his forehead.

“Our electrician that deals with this kind of wiring is on call, so hopefully he’ll be here shortly.” He picks up his tool box and I wave at him and smile.

“Thanks.” He smiles back at me and walks through the open door of my dressing room, calling someone on his walky talky.

I grab a bottle of water from my dressing room counter and untwist the cap off, still sitting in front of the fan. I catch Courtney's eye as I tilt the bottle back. She's looking at me blankly and blinks, “You shouldn't stay in here with this heat.”

“Yeah," I sigh. "I just don’t want it to be a pain to try to tote all this shit to Justin’s room or another dressing room only to have the A/C miraculously work again and have to tote it back.”

“Stop stressing about it." She shrugs and pushes herself from where she was leaning against the counter and goes to her purse that's on the couch. "Just go hang out with Justin and I’ll work on this. You really don’t need to be in here in this heat when you have to perform tonight.”

I laugh. She sounds so concerned in that, non-friendly, semi-motherly, don't fuck this up way. “Ok Angie,” I laugh.

“What?”

I shake my head and push myself off the chair I was sitting in. “I swear sometimes you sound just like her.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not really." I start walking to the door, shaking my bottle of water as I go. I would normally grab my bag, but I took everything back to the bus after we figured out the A/C wasn’t working. I didn’t want any of my makeup melting. I look outside and Teddy is there leaning against the wall across from my door and talking on his cell phone. I make a face at him and then turn around and lean back into my room, "Hey, don’t stay trapped in here either.”

Courtney smiles a genuine smile at me, “I won’t.”

Those are rare, those genuine smiles from her. Having Megan down here for a few days showed me how different Courtney and I really are. I still want to be her friend, but I don’t think she wants to be mine. And I guess I have to deal with that. Maybe we shouldn’t be friends. Maybe this should just stay professional. I just don’t see how something can stay professional when you're with someone almost every second of the day, when you invest time and basically just put your life into their hands. It's like Teddy and me. The first day I met him, well, I had never met anyone like him before. He was a huge black guy from Oakland who had seen his daddy get shot in the head when he was a 10 year old boy. I was a peppy little white girl from the sticks of Georgia who had seen a deer get hit by her dad's truck. I was terrified of him for two hours.

Then somewhere along the way, sometime during that first day, I fell in love with him. I wouldn’t call Teddy my best friend or even a really close friend. It's more like this weird family thing. We rarely talk, we joke around a lot, but when we do really talk it usually turns into these amazing conversations. I know he cares about me, hell I think he loves me sometimes, and I love him. He’s the big brother I never ever had. And I trust him just as much as I trust my daddy and I know he’ll protect me just as good if not better than my daddy could.

And I just know that that'll never happen with Courtney. There will never be a family bond with her, because she doesn’t want it. And I can’t force that on her, even though I think you need that in this industry to really work, to really be able to have confidence in our assistant.

Of course, I considered Leah a part of my touring family. But Courtney isn’t Leah and no matter what’s happened in the past few months and whatever Justin's tried to make me see, I'm not going to believe it.

In fact, I'm starting to make him take back all the shit he's put her through. Courtney is not Leah and that’s that.

I look at Teddy and say quietly, "I'll be with Justin." He nods at me and continues to talk on his phone. He's talking in a low voice so that must be one of his girlfriends. I keep walking down the hallway down to Justin's dressing room, passing the dancers’ rooms and band rooms’ on the way. My flip-flops flap loudly on the tiles of the floor. When I get to Justin's room, the door is all but a few inches closed and I don't bother on knocking. He never knocks when he comes in my room.

He's sitting on the edge of the couch, leaned forward, staring at the TV. The screen is split so I know there is someone else in the room with him. I close the door lightly behind me and walk further. On the floor, on his back is Marty, lying by the dogs. Both boys have a controller in hand, both mouth's are slightly opened, and both have vacant looks in their eyes.

They're silly.

“Hey…” I say and lean against the arm of the couch. Marty doesn’t look at me. Justin doesn’t look at me. The dogs don’t even look at me.

After about 30 seconds, Justin turns his face towards me but keeps his eyes glued on the screen.

“Hey,” he says.

I bite my lip and knock off my flip flops. I slide down next to him, running my hand against his back just a bit, all the way down to the slither of skin showing from the bottom of his tight t-shirt to the waist of his jeans, where even his belt is doing little to hide the elastic of his striped boxers underneath. Boxers, hmm…he normally only wears those when he’s feeling really loose down there.

I smile and let my fingers slide against the skin.

“What cha playin?” I slur out a bit and curl my legs up on the couch, leaning back against him. With his body leaned forward so far and mine tilted slightly from my lean, his frame blocks the TV screen from my view and I stare at the back of his neck and his broad shoulders.

I get no response so I roll my eyes, move my hand from his skin and sit up. “Ohhhh k.”

I guess I could lay here and be ignored, or I could go find Abbie. I don’t normally mind it if Justin isn’t paying attention to me. But I do not want to be ignored. I’m fine with being quiet and just minding my own business. But this is ridiculous when I can’t really even get acknowledged.

I’m about to push myself off the couch, when Justin drops his cordless controller so it’s dangling from one hand and his other hand is on my thigh. He’s smiling at me now, straining, as if he knows he just made a mistake. “How was sound check?” he asks.

“Fine.” I smile inwardly and rest back fully on the couch when he leans back with me. This is all I wanted, him smiling at me. “Why’d they push yours back so late?”

“Hell if I know.” He shrugs and I guess Marty is pressing something on the screen because a menu of options is coming up and Justin’s not doing anything more than scratching his forehead. "I think after you got done they had a bust in one of the speakers."

“Damn, everything in this venue is messing up.” I laugh and smile down at the floor. “Or maybe you just wanted more time to let Marty kick your ass.”

Marty twists against the huge rug that covers the linoleum floor underneath to look up at me. He smiles wide and winks. “That’s what I’m sayin’ girl!”

Justin’s shoulder presses into mine and I look over and he’s close, pouting, but his eyes are smiling, “Why are you never on my team?”

“’Cause…” I say, and cross my arms over my chest.

He nudges me and mocks me quietly, “’Cause…”

I roll my eyes and he keeps nudging me, making me jerk one way and sling the other back against his shoulder, repeatedly. Soon my pout turns into a smile and when I look over he’s smiling and licking his lips.

God, he’s so good looking sometimes.

“Well…” We both whip our heads to the guy who’s now standing off the floor and stretching his back. He snaps back and nods at us, “I’m going to go.”

“You don’t have-” I start to say.

He smiles at us and waves, smirking at Justin just a bit. “Yeah I gotta make some calls.”

Our heads turn and watch as Marty leaves. The pups finally raise their heads from resting sleepily on their paws when he leaves. I kind of feel bad, and when he shuts the door behind him, I turn my head and stare at Justin. Marty didn’t have to leave.

His hand is high on my thigh and he’s got the smallest smile on his face. He looks directly at me. And even though I feel bad that Marty left like he did, I’m glad to be alone with my man.

It’s been a weird and rough couple of days. Justin and I have made up. We’ve been really good ever since he confronted me. We’ve been talking a lot, about all sorts of things; growing up, this business, my issues, his issues.

It was hard for me to say goodbye to my family. Really hard. I cried. I normally don’t cry that much. I mean I might tear up a little, but I didn’t want to let my momma go. I think I scared her a little.

But I was on the bus, in my bed with Justin holding me while I just cried as we drove up I-85. I chalked it up to just being home and this tour being hard on me and the whole pregnancy thing and my emotions just being completely exhausted. I guess that’s what it is. I don’t want to get burned out. That’s the last thing I want to do. I talked to Justin about it. He made me feel a lot better because he’s been doing this so long. He reassured me that while I might get burned out for a little bit, if I give myself enough breaks and vacation I’ll be itching to be back in the spotlight in no time. He said that’s what happens when you’re a performer. He said we’ll take a break together.

Sometimes I’m amazed by how much faith he has in me, more so than I do in myself sometimes.

I can feel it. I can see it in him. The change taking place. When we first went out it was all fun and giggles and sexy and stuff. But now, it’s so…it’s sooo serious and comfortable. It’s like, I know it’s not going anywhere. I can see that when I look at him. I don’t have any doubts about his feelings, that he might not need me or want to be with me.

I’ve wanted this feeling for so, so long and now that I have it, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with it.

It kind of scares me.

And yet, I kind of like it. It’s more than being in love. It’s a lot more.

It’s funny how just a week or so ago I was hanging out with Megan, but so much other shit was going on I barely had time to talk to her, to really hang out with her. I’m glad we’ll be in the city in a week. I can hang out with her more then, just me and her. At least I hope. I need that. I need that constant in my life. I need to talk to her about…everything.

If I could, I’d bring her on the road with me. She could take pictures of all these awesome places and really spread out her portfolio. But I know she’s working now, got that awesome job in the city she pushed so hard to get.

I sigh when I feel a light kiss on my cheek and I snap out of my thoughts and say to him, “Do you have like a special signal you give your guy friends when I come in the room and you want to get up on me?”

His arm is around my shoulders, his hand still on my leg.

He leans in, nips at me, but doesn’t bite me and then completely pulls away, controller in hand, starting the game back up. “Who says I want to get up on you? I’m playing my game.”

“You suck.” I push at his shoulder.

“You want to play?” he asks me.

“No thanks, I’m not into shooting people.” I laugh a little and he doesn't play, but messes around with some buttons, changing some options, saving the game. I stare at the side of his face. He looks relaxed, easy, but there's been a wrinkle in his forehead for the past two days. And I know why it's there. I know he's baffled. I know it pissed him off. I know he wanted to freak out, lash out. I know he wanted to blame her, because she was the easy target. But he didn’t. He held it in.

And now that I see it, I'm not sure if holding it in is a good thing for him.

“Hey, I’m proud of you,” I say, taking a swig from my water bottle that’s still in my hand before putting it down on the floor by my flip flops.

His eyes look down at the floor for a minute and then he presses a button on the controller and the screen goes blank. “For what?”

“For not freaking out.” He still doesn't look at me and I know on the inside he really is freaking out.

Somehow, someway, they found out about my pregnancy scare. It was on the cover of US Weekly yesterday morning, a picture of me and Justin walking side by side with my hand on my stomach and the words in bright yellow, “Just A Scare?!” I wouldn't have even known if Angie hadn't called me and woken me and Justin up one morning. She asked to be put on speaker phone, told us she didn't care what we did in our private life, but that we had to be careful. Justin was pissed that someone who didn’t work for him, someone he barely knew, was telling him this. And I agree, it was a little out of line for her. But I think most of all he was pissed that the story had gotten out.

I had Monique buy the magazine for me and I read the article. I know I should have ignored it, but my curiosity got to me. It wasn’t really bad. It didn’t really say anything negative about us. It had some older pictures of us together, some on stage, some paparazzi pics; of course they used the one where I looked like utter shit for the cover. But the story was just about us partying real hard and having wild sex parties and me "almost getting pregnant" as they put it. Which I think is ridiculous, you're either pregnant or you’re not. There's no "almost" about it. And honestly, what they printed is not too far from the truth. I mean we don’t go around having random orgies, but we were partying a lot. There was a part about him never wanting children in there and quotes from him in the past saying that children would be way off in the distance for him, something he wasn’t ready for.

But it wasn't really a negative article. It didn’t say he controlled me or beat me or that I was some drug addict or that he was my "beard" for me and Megan as other people have claimed.

The part that got to me was the part where they said the pregnancy test I took was up for bid on eBay for thousands of dollars.

That's...just weird, whether it's really mine or not. Who in their right mind would pay for a pee stick!?

I guess there really are some psychopaths out there.

“Mere…” He sighs and leans back against the couch, looking bored, tired. He just stares at the blank TV.

“I know you want to freak. I know maybe you are inside." I curl up to him and touch his chest to see if he'll look at me. He does and it's a pitiful look and I hate that I brought this up again. "But thank you for trying to remain cool about it and not interrogating people or jumping to conclusions.”

“I guess, they just always do a pregnancy story with every couple, so…" He shrugs and slouches even further on the couch so his neck rests against the back of it. He closes his eyes. "It’s just a coincidence.”

“It’s kind of gross if it’s true.”

“What?” He opens his eyes.

“Selling the fucking test on eBay? I mean, it has my pee on it.” He doesn't respond. He just blinks at me. “Ok...”

“I just don’t want to talk about it. Is that ok?”

I nod. I need to stop pushing him. I don’t want him spazzing on me. And I don’t want to stress him out before the show tonight. “Yeah. Ok.”

After a long, quiet pause with his eyes closed and me just staring at him, wondering if he's just going to take a nap, he finally sighs and says, "I just, want to find out how it got out."

It baffles me for a moment because he was the one who just threw it off as a coincidence moments before, as something they do to every celebrity couple. Thinking about myself as a celebrity is a weird feeling. But I’m done with this conversation for now and clearly he is, too.

"Ok," I say.

He immediately opens his eyes and turns towards me. “What?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head and hope he can't tell how weird this moment is. I hope it’s not as awkward for him as it is for me.

It's not. His head is soon laying against me and I'm moving onto my back so he can lay over me a bit. His cheek presses into my breasts and he says, "Are you excited about seeing Megan in a few days?”

“Yes…" I smile to myself and run my fingers through the longer hair on top of his head, skimming my fingers down against the sides. "A bunch.”

He turns and presses his chin into my breast bone. He's smiling now, his eyes are shining, any worry that was on his face before has vanished. “I’m excited about being back in New York with you, where this started.”

“This?”

“Us." He kisses my skin above the neck of my tank and then scoots up so he's really laying on me, in between my legs, hovering over me. I get it now. He wants a little something before he goes to sound check. I start to giggle. "It wasn’t that long ago when you weren’t mine and I was just crushing on you.”

I latch my arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss me. And he kisses me slowly, searching...it feels sooo good. When he pulls back to start kissing against my neck, I ask quietly, “You’re riding with me tonight, right?”

“If you want me to.” He smiles against my skin and I tilt my head to the side, curl my fingers in his short hair, and close my eyes as his tongue licks me there. Why is he doing this now? I know we're going to be interrupted. I know he's going to have to leave soon. I bite my lip as he presses into me down there. He's almost completely hard. If he doesn’t get a release before show time that means he's going to be a naughty tease on stage. And I'll have to spend almost two hours waiting for him, watching him, being turned on by every note he sings and every move he makes. I'll have to wait until we can get back alone on the bus.

Sometimes it's so hot afterwards. Sometimes we're both just too tired to do anything and we pass out. Sometimes we both shower after, but the times that are the best are when we don’t shower, when we're both gross and sweaty and he pulls me back to one of our buses and we kiss and pull off our clothes rapidly. He'll fuck me hard and fast and for a long, long time. We’ll still be on a high from the show, still have the adrenaline running through us. Sometimes we'll be wild. Sometimes I'll ride him, sometimes I'll let him bend me over in half. Sometimes we cuss at each other and say dirty things.

But after, always after we don’t say a word. We’ll lay on the bed naked, sweaty and out of breath with only the sheet over us. And we’ll just pass out with smiles on our faces.

I want that with him, I want that with him for as long as I can.

I sigh when he slides over me a little and hovers above to look down at me with lazy eyes. I smile up at him, “Well I’ll ride with you. I want to snuggle with you and the pups.”

He looks over his shoulder. They are still sleeping on the floor. Well Buck's not. Buck's staring at us with his head on the floor. He likes to watch us. He's a freak. I almost laugh when Justin turns back around and pouts, “Do you love them more than me?”

“Sometimes," I giggle. "But you don’t poop in the grass.”

He sticks his tongue out at me. “I would if I could…”

“Ewww Justin.” I smack his shoulder and he just laughs and laughs, rolling and vibrating above me until her leans his head down against my shoulder.

“Lord girl," he drawls out and I smile. "I’m still thinking about how BeeDee scared the shit out of me at your house.”

“I love my doggie.” I laugh and think back on it. It was that morning after we had slept in my bed. We were naked with the covers over us and we both woke up with a start when my mom knocked on the door and said, "get up you two." She didn’t sneak in the door or anything, but I guess she had cracked it open to call into us because about the time Justin had calmed himself down, scared that my mom or dad were going to come in and see us naked, he had sighed and pulled me into his chest, and BeeDee, in all her 70 pound glory, had jumped up on my bed, right onto Justin.

I almost peed myself when Justin jumped up and said, "OH GOD," which sent Beedee into a barking fit and made her run out of the room. So much for a guard dog.

He starts laughing again with my giggles and then I feel his hands move down to my sides and before I can stop him, he's got me and is tickling me. I squeal and hit at him and he just laughs and laughs until my leg jerks and I almost kick him in his crotch.

He stops, stares at me wide eyed and says quietly, "Be careful girl, that's my special area."

I tease him as he pulls his arms around me and moves us so we're on our sides, his back to the back of the couch, staring at each other. "I know. I like your special area."

He gives me an extremely flirty look, lowered eyelids, a smirk and his hand skims under my tank up on my side, touching my skin. His lips touch mine softly and he pulls on them with his own, tugs them with his teeth and sucks my bottom lip lightly into his mouth.

Fuck...

Our legs tangle while we make out for a moment. His hands are up the back of my tank top and I'm leaning into him, kissing him, hugging onto his middle. We have time, right? Please say we have time.

Something nudges my ass and when I look over both dogs are up, staring at us. Buck's tongue is hanging out and Brennan has her nose stuck into the crevice between the couch pillows.

“Shit," he says, and when I look back over him he's got his arm up in the air and is staring at his watch. Shit is right. We don't have time. I frown. "I gotta be at sound check soon. They said it should be fixed by 4:30.”

I sigh, the idea of him leaving me right now is a sucky one and I pout for a moment. “You sure you don’t want me to come real quick and check with you on our songs?”

“Nah girl," he runs his hands through my hair and then pushes himself up over me and off the couch and around the dogs. "I’m sure it’ll be cool.”

His hand goes down into his jeans for a moment and he adjusts himself just before the door halfway opens and Trace leans in. "Hey, J..." He eyes me laying on the couch as I resituate my tank and then looks at Justin and says softly, "They're ready for you.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m coming.”

I sit up off the couch and yawn. I look down to pull on my shorts that were riding up and realize my nipples are poking through my top. Great.

The dogs are over smelling Trace now and he asks, “They need to be walked?”

“Can I help?” I ask. I guess I just don't want to be alone right now. The more time I'm alone the more time I'm going to be thinking about what we were just doing, what we could have been doing, and that's not fun when you are alone. And I guess since Courtney and I haven't really talked much about anything lately, I kind of want to know how everything is going with Trace and her and stuff.

Trace shrugs. “Yeah, sure.” I push myself off the couch and Justin touches my back for a moment and says "bye" softly. He grabs a bottle of water from a table in his room filled with snacks and walks past Trace without saying anything. Uh oh, please don’t tell me they're fighting again.

I watch him get the leashes and hook them up to the collars and he lets me walk Bren and we follow him and Buck through the hallway, out, weaving our way past people and hallways and rooms until we exit through some double doors outside. There are people smoking there and a small patch of grass. Trace didn't bring any baggies with him so I hope the venue doesn't get mad when we don’t pick up after the dogs.

I let Bren walk off and explore the grass a little bit. Buck is excited, his tail is whipping through the air and he's smelling everything. Trace is having to move a bit so he doesn’t get tangled in the leash.

I stare off into space a little bit and wish I had brought my sunglasses out here. It's bright and two of the venue crew are over by the wall, smoking cigarettes and just staring at me.

“Soooo, what’s up?”

I snap my head to Trace and shrug. “Nothing.”

He half smiles. “Come on Mere, why you helping me with the dogs?”

“Can’t I just want to help out and spend time with my buddy?” He tips his hat back a little and looks at me incredulously. “Hey! Don’t make me seem like a little snarky weeb!”

He laughs out loud but keeps staring right at me, challenging me. “But you don’t want to talk to me about something?”

“Well..." I sigh and look down at the grass. "I just wanted to see how you were doing, ya know with Courtney..." I pause and look at him out of the corner of my eye. He's still staring at me. "And Justin and everything. I just, I don’t want you to feel like you’re being left out.”

“I’m not," he says quickly. "We’re all doing good.”

“Good.”

His blank face breaks into a smile. “Thanks mom.”

I chew on my lip a little bit. Dammit, he's too good at this. He’s still staring at me with his eyebrows raised as if he knows I got more to ask. I guess I should just let out with it.

“So, yesterday morning, when he saw that article, did he really freak out and he’s just hiding it from me?”

Trace shakes his head. “He didn’t say a word to me about it.”

I sigh heavily and run a hand over my face. “Which means he’s freaking out and hiding it.”

“Well, honestly, I’d freak out, too. I don’t get how you can stay so calm about this stuff.”

I laugh lightly, even though it's not really funny. “Well I am freaked someone’s going to buy my used pregnancy test online. That’s…gross and weird. Hopefully no one buys it, hopefully it’s a fake.”

It's quiet for a moment and Trace steps a little closer and says quietly, “I just hope he doesn’t think it was her.”

“It was probably a maid, ya know?” I say, trying to reassure him. I need him to know that I don’t blame her either. And I need to make sure Justin doesn’t blame her.

Everything was fine and doing well and then this story came out and I just, I don’t want anything fucking up the slight harmony we all had. He was hanging out with Trace again, they were being buddies again and Courtney and him weren't always so uptight with each other. I mean they didn’t sit there and have a deep conversation, but they didn’t glare at each other across the room.

“You should sue that hotel,” Trace says, smirking.

“I’m too nice. Plus, it’s not their fault I was an idiot and thought I was pregnant.”

His smirk fades and he looks at me seriously, “You’re not an idiot, Mere.”

“Yeah…” Sometimes I think I really am. I mean, I know it's ridiculous. I’m this hot little singer, right? I should be super confident in all I do. But I can't help it if I sometimes get down on myself. I used to not be this bad, and I hate to say this, but sometimes I think it might be Courtney who makes me think this way. Not that she does intentionally, but sometimes when I do stuff and she looks at me it just makes me feel so childish and dumb. Like I'm some annoying, bratty, air headed little bitch or something.

Like she’s my babysitter instead of my assistant.

I know I'm just being too sensitive. Maybe I'm getting my period. That's ridiculous. When I went to the doctor the other day she said I need to make sure I eat more protein and get more sleep and take a multivitamin. She said my body just skipped a period, but I should be on track for my next one just fine if I'm taking my birth control regularly. I should probably get that birth control shot, but now with Courtney asking me every morning if I took my medicine, I guess it's not necessary. Justin asks sometimes, too.

“So have they fixed your A/C, yet?”

“No, they’re calling the electrician. I hope they do. It just seems like a hassle because they’ve already moved everything in there. I mean I can use Justin’s or my dancer’s room. I just think it’s a waste of people’s time when they set it up all nice and I can’t even use it.”

“You’re sweet.” He smiles and it throws me off guard. If I wasn’t with Justin and he wasn’t with Courtney, I'd be certain he was flirting with me.

“What?”

“You just..." He shakes his head a little. "You still really do think about the people that work around you. That doesn’t happen much. Hell, Justin doesn’t do that. I know he’s not doing it on purpose. You just get in this lifestyle where you are so concerned about performing you forget all the other people that make the little stuff possible.”

“You make him seem like a diva,” I say defensively.

“Well…" Trace shrugs and laughs. "He kind of is.”

I nod in agreement, but I don’t think Justin means to be that way. When he gets in work mode, he kind of puts blinders up to anything or anyone else and it can make him seem a little conceited.

“How's the fashion world?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“Fabulous,” he says with a lisp and it makes me giggle. He stuffs his hand down in his back pocket and pulls out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. “You mind if I smoke?”

“No, just blow away from me please.” I grin and he nods, pulling out a cigarette and trying to light up all the while holding onto the leash.

“I told Courtney I was quitting with her, but dammit the past few weeks I just…”

I smile. “I won’t tell.”

“She can smell it on me. She’s a smart girl.”

“Yeah she is." I watch Trace smoke for moment and then look down at Brennan who has parked her butt right beside me and is just looking around. She reminds me of BeeDee and I like her a lot, even though Buckley is fun as hell and has more personality than any other dog I've ever met. He's still twisting himself around Trace. I smile at him. I guess if I was a dog I'd be Buckley and Courtney would be Brennan. God, I'm weird. "Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

I suck in a breath and look up at Trace. “Does she like working with me? I mean, I know we don’t see eye to eye on, well, most things, and I know we’re very different, but she’s not miserable, is she?”

“She’s been a lot happier now that Justin has stopped giving her death stares.”

“Good,” I say, even though he didn’t really answer my question. “Sometimes I wonder if this is the right place for her. Like, I think she wants this opportunity and I think it’s good for her, but I think this just isn’t her life. Maybe she wants it to be, and I think she’s a great PA, but maybe something more stationary would suit her better.”

A worried, inquisitive look covers his face and his eyes are narrowed at me slightly. It's sweet how protective he is over her. “What are you saying?”

I laugh a little and hope he can't tell I'm faking when I say, “I’m saying we all need a vacation, badly.” I need to find time to talk to her about it, to ask her if this is really what she wants to do. She says she does, she says this is where she dreamed of being, traveling and stuff, but...when I look at her I just feel like she hates it so much. That it annoys her. Maybe that's just her. Maybe she just is never going to seem overly happy about anything. I just don’t want to feel like she’s stuck with me if she doesn’t like it.

Sometimes I wish she'd be more like me. I guess that's a horrible thing to say. I just, I try to have fun in life, and yeah, I fuck up a lot, but she is just so cautious about everything that it seems to keep her from having any fun. I hope Trace makes her happy. I've seen it in her face a few times, happiness, a genuine smile, hell, sometimes she can even be girly. But every time she is, she ends up pulling herself back, she stops before she gets too into it, she closes off.

It's like she's purposefully being rigid and stern.

“There’s only a couple weeks left,” he says.

“It’s flown.”

He nods. “It always does. Especially these shorter tours. It’s the long ones that eat you up and make you feel like it will never end and then when you get done you realize the last few months of your life are all just a flash.”

“Yeah…” I can't think of anything right now. My mind is too clouded.

“What are you doing after this?” he asks.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, I know Justin has to promote and he’ll probably do a big ass tour all over the world. I mean, my album is still selling well, but his is going to be huge. And I know it’s a girly thing to try to figure out what he’s doing compared to what I’m doing. But…it’s not just dating anymore, ya know? And I’ve never done the long distance thing.”

“You can make it work if you have to. He’s good at it. If he has to, he’ll run himself thin just to make it work.”

I shake my head. “But I don’t want him to do that.”

“I know you don’t, girl. I’m just saying he’s done it before.”

“Well, apparently it didn’t work since he’s with me now and not them.” I shrug and look down at Brennan again. She looks up at me and is smiling. I take that back. Courtney isn't Brennan because she doesn’t smile enough. Brennan never stresses about anything. She just loves Justin and I think she's starting to love me. And she likes to play fetch, and she's always good and brings it back to you. You play it with Buckley and he'll destroy whatever you throw and then bring it back to you shredded.

“True…very true. But don’t worry, ok? You know his ass would miss you too much and he’ll be first class flying you all over the world just to see him.”

“So, if you are going to be busy doing the clothing line, who’s going to be his assistant?” His eyes immediately shift to the ground and he takes a long drag from his cigarette, shuffling his feet a little. I open my mouth and then shut it. Trace, not Justin's assistant? That'd be weird. “Oh…I see.”

“We just, we’ll talk about it later. Right now it isn’t a worry. He’s going to take a month off anyway and then promote like hell. The line, if it’s launched, won’t be done until later in the year.”

“He’ll support you, Trace. You know that, right? I mean of course you do. You know him better than I do. Just, don’t think that this weirdness that’s gone on with everyone the past month affected how proud he is to have you as his friend and how much he cares for you.”

“Meredith, really…” I can tell he wants me to shut up, but I have to say this to him. I feel like I should, not that I’m obligated to, but because ever since I started dating Justin, the two of them have been on a downward slope. And I know Justin still cares. I can see it in his face.

“Look, I know I’m a fucking cheese ball, sap head, but seriously. He’ll support you. I know he was an ass about Courtney. I know he’s been weird about stuff, but this…he’s proud of you for it.”

Trace only nods for a moment and then says, “We should take the dogs back in.”

“Yeah.”

After a moment of getting the dogs together and him putting out his cigarette, I follow him back into the arena, which seems a lot cooler and darker than it is outside. The dogs trot along nicely and obediently.

And I can’t shut off my mind.

My hopes were that having those few moments with Trace would relax me a little bit about this whole situation.

But now I’ve said too much. I have too many questions, and whether it’s his fault or mine doesn’t matter. I just know that it’s going to be awkward. I said too much about Courtney and he said too much about himself. And now, now I don’t know what to think.

I thought the whole drama of me thinking I was pregnant chilled everyone out. It made Justin stop spazzing. He started hanging out with Trace again, Courtney and him were civil, everyone seemed happy.

But now I know. I know that was a lie. Nothing’s changed at all, everyone just hid it for a few days, and if this keeps up, something bad is going to happen.

And they can’t expect me to always be the peace maker.