My Sister's Engagement Party

My sister loved to greet people with kisses. She gave sweet kisses. She always had. I remembered when we were little she would always make sure to kiss everyone goodnight on our cheeks. She had to make sure and get all of us-- Mom, Dad, me and my twin sister Bianca, or she wouldn't sleep. Every time she did it to me I would cringe, cry out, and snatch my head away from the warmth of her lips. Secretly, I loved it. Even more secretly, I loved her.

What I did not love were the kisses she gave these days. The cheek no longer sufficed for my sister when she greeted or bid farewell. No, if she was saying hello or goodbye with her lips she was going to do it with her lips and yours.

I cringed deeply as she laid a good, slobbery smack on our grandfather Joe's lips and, directly after, our sixteen year old cousin, Jason's.

"Hello, gorgeous!" She'd cry, "Mwah! Mwah!"

I didn't know who got wood first, my grandfather or my cousin, but it was obvious that they were both eons more excited about Tasha's lips than they ever should have been.

It was even more obvious that Tasha was completely aware of it. I guess I couldn't blame the boys for being so turned on by their own kin. If you really thought about it… Tasha wasn't even the same person, anymore. In that case, a raging boner doesn't really… count. Right? In any case, she proceeded to do this with every person within eyeshot while Justin Timberlake, her fiance, stood behind her doing the same. All of my female relatives got kisses on the lips and the males got high fives, manly hugs or an "I'm too cool for this" up and down nod of the head.

I didn't know where Tasha picked up this charming habit of hers, New York or LA, but I did know that it was only a matter of time before herpes type B came knocking at her door and you could be sure me and my lips would be nowhere in sight when it did. I hated her kisses, and-- this time, I wasn't just pretending to hate them.

Whenever Tasha tried to give me her lips, I gave her my cheek. No herpes for me. No sir.

My sister, Natasha Love, had been a different person since the moment she jumped between the sheets with Justin Timberlake.

Justin Timberlake had been a different person since the moment he'd left Kankakee, Illinois twelve years ago and became a world famous, multi-million dollar, I dare anyone to tell me I'm not the !^%% man that he was today.

I sat at the back of my grandmother's tiny house in living room. I was alone, and preferably so, on my favorite love seat. I watched the two of them, wondering when they had become strangers to me. I couldn't remember. It was as if yesterday we were all riding our bikes home from school and today… we were strangers. Complete strangers.

As I did the math, I realized that I hadn't seen Justin in almost twelve years. He was the R and B artist in the country. Nobody could touch him. He ruled the music charts, the radio stations and any room that he set foot in. The guy couldn't walk out of his front door without twenty people asking for an autograph and twenty more snapping his picture so they could make their rent that month. He was a bonafide star. A celebrity. Above me. Above Kankakee. Above all of this. As I thought about it, it suddenly made a lot of sence that I hadn't seen him in so long. We had nothing in common, anymore. Nothing to even talk about.

Besides, he was filthy rich and never left his island in New York unless he was on his way to Los Angeles. I wondered if he even remembered that the house he grew up in was a mere two blocks away from here.

I talked to Natasha everyday, but tonight was the first time I'd seen her in a whole year.

Tonight was their engagement party. They'd just only arrived-- about five minutes ago. My family, a couple of dozen people who were just as broke as myself, had fallen all over themselves to greet the two, praise them and lick their asses with more vigor that the juiest watermelon in our tiny town. The house was old (almost twenty years) and little. The kitchen table was full of fried chicken, greens, potato salad, sweet yams and everything that any party with a lot of black people should have. Soul music from the seventies or eighties blasted from the stereo (the only thing in the house that wasn't two hundred years old). It smelled liked my grandmother's house always smelled. It felt like home. Too bad it didn't feel like home. Justin and Natasha had taken one step in and, literally, sucked up all the air. The entire house felt like a different world now that they were in it.

The entryway was a buzz with the noise of my excited family and every time Natasha flashed her ring (which was always) she would scream. Then the ring flashee would scream. Before you knew it, everyone was screaming. All over a stupid ring. I imagined that it must have been a monster, though. Justin had been poor in his lifetime, yes, but that hadn't taught him to be frugal with his money. Not at all. In fact, watching him now, I was pretty sure that the sunglasses on his face was my equivalent to three months of rent… and groceries.

Had everyone forgotten so quickly that these two grew up here? Had everyone forgotten that they were once poor, hungry and wide eyed just like the rest of us? Had everyone forgotten that these two people left us high and dry for the bright lights of New York and LA? For the dangerous and seductive power of money? Lots and lots of money?

Well, they obviously had forgotten. Or they had for the time being.

I, however, hadn't.

I ducked out of the room before Tasha or Justin could see me and behind the sliding door of the back porch. I needed some air.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one who needed air.

A whole five minutes and Mr. Timberlake had already grown bored of his engagement party. I was sure that the only reason he'd stepped foot back into this town was at Natasha's sheer insistence.

When we were younger Justin and I used to talk all the time. In fact, he and I were closer than my twin sister Bianca and Natasha combined. He used to tell me that once he got out of Kankakee, he would never look back.

He'd kept his word.

It was cold out that night, the sky as black as tar. I crossed my arms in front of my body in an attempt to keep warm and let my eyes flutter shut, waiting for it all the end.

That was when the sliding door opened behind me. I didn't open my eyes, but I did open my ears, aware of the sound of the door sliding back closed and a male voice.

That voice. His voice.

My eyes flew open and I looked over my shoulder. There he was. Justin Timberlake.

He didn't even see me as he walked clear to the other end of the patio, a cell phone pressed to his ear and a scowl on his face. "Jessica it's my engagement party. There's no way I can fly in tonight. Are you kidding? Tosh would cut my ^^+^ off. You know how she is. In Kankakee. It's in Chicago, Jess. Kank-a-kee. Where I grew up? Forget it."

I smiled at his back. Apparently this Jessica had little to no interest in the !^%% hole that Justin had been dragged away to. He was pacing back and forth, still with no regard or awareness of my presence. I took notice of his immaculate appearance. There wasn't a wrinkle in his clothes, not a hair on his head out of place. From where I stood, about five feet away, I could smell the colongue he'd put on. It was heavenly.

"Just pay the %@*%% the million, Jess, because I'm tired of hearing her name."

He was not so heavenly. Apparently, in LA and New York, "Pay the %@*%% the million" was an acceptable end to a conversation. Justin slammed his cell phone shut and stood in a stony silence. For a quick moment, I wondered whether he would throw the phone straight into the wall he was staring at. He didn't. Calmly, he slid it in his pocket and walked, quietly, to the porch railing.

He leaned against it. His back was broad and straight against the leather jacket her wore. He took deep, steady breaths.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.

"You can do this, you can do this, you can do this." He whispered this over and over, leaning more heavily on the bar he clutched every time. He took another deep breath, gave the bar one last squeeze and stood tall.

He turned on his heel quickly, too quickly, and the second his eyes hit mine I saw his entire body jolt. "Holy fucking shit." He beamed, jamming his eyes shut. He covered his heart with his hand and I secretly loved that, for once, I was the reason that it pounded. "Lilly… Christ." He opened his eyes and, this time, offered me a smile.

That was the one thing that hadn't changed about Justin. The smile. That smile was what made sense of everything for me. I understood why he was rich. Famous. I understood why people loved him as much as they did. He'd always been charming. Without having to speak a word he radiated charm. Especially when he smiled.

I returned the gesture, unable to do anything else. "Long time no see, Curls…" I took notice of his buzzed haircut and the absence of one of my favorite things about him, "Or… not so curls."

He touched the top of his head sheepishly, where a forest of golden curls used to live, as if he had no idea that'd he'd had a buzz cut for almost three years now. "Yeah…" He threw me a look, "It's different." He offered.

"Yeah, it is." I agreed, "It's perfect." Because he was different, too.

It was as if he was reading my thoughts. His hand dropped from his head and he shoved both of them in his pockets, "How are you, Lil? Jesus…" He looked away from me and out to the yard, "How long has it been?" He knew how long it had been. That was why he'd looked away from me. He was ashamed.

I was surprised to know all of this, as I looked at him. For a moment, I wondered if he'd changed as much as I accused him of. I answered, anyway, "Twelve years." I tried to say this with without accusation, without anger or hurt, but it was hard.

"Damn." He whispered.

"Yeah." I whispered back.

"I knew it had been long, but… not that long…." His eyes begged me not to be angry. To understand.

I just couldn't.

"Give me the sunglasses you walked in wearing and it's forgotten."

He smirked, "Those glasses were men's division, Lil. I'll send you some nice ones that just came out."

The idea of him spending a penny on me made me immensely uncomfortable. "I wasn't planning on wearing the glasses. Just selling them. You understand that I can't live for a year off a pair of glasses you'll only wear once."

He reached in his pocket and fingered the glasses out, swinging them between his fingers. "Anything for you." He held them out.

I didn't budge. "I was kidding, Justin."

"How are you?" I hated the look on his face.

"I'm fine."

My sharp tone got through to him. The glasses went back into his pocket, and the air grew thick. "Your hair… you're thinner…" His eyes traveled my body.

I tried to ignore the warmth that engulfed me.

"God…" From my head to my feet and back again his eyes traveled. I would have been highly uncomfortable if it was any other man. There was no sexuality in his gaze, however. Just a friend taking in another friend that they hadn't seen in more than a decade. He shook his head, "You're different." He whispered.

I grinned at him. "Is that good or bad?"

His eyes were intense as he slowly answered, "It's good."

There was, however, a little sexuality in that.

"Hey," I motioned to the closed sliding door that Natasha was on the other side of, "Hey… congratulations."

His eyes flowed to the house. "Yeah…" He wouldn't look at me, again, "I should probably… get back in there."

This was beyond awkward. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

Without another word, he went back to the sliding glass door and paused before opening it. "Hey?"

I looked at him. "Hm?"

His eyes met mine, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry I wasn't here. For the funeral. I should have been here."

I lost my breath, but quickly regained it.

"I know you hate me for it. I just wanted to say…"

"The fact that you even said it…" I took a deep breath, "Means more than you'll ever know."

The look on his face made it clear that he was wondering it if was that simple. He'd forgotten how poignant a simple I'm sorry was around here. I was sure it didn't mean much where he came from.

"You, Bianca and Tash." He clutched the handle of the sliding door. "The only time I could ever breathe around here… was when I was with the three of you."

"Well… you still got two."

"I still got you?"

The question was a heavy one. I stared at him. "You always got me, Not-So-Curls."

"Is that my new name now?"

"A new name for a new you."

He didn't say anything else. Slowly, he reopened the sliding glass door and stepped back into the house that I'm sure was equal to small closest space in his New York condo. The sound of the party wafted out into the quiet night for only a moment. He turned around to close to door, threw me a wink through the glass, and turned away.

I waited ten minutes, reminding myself how to breath, and followed him in. The moment I stepped back into the house, into the fragrant kitchen, I saw my sister for the first time in a year.

The moment she saw me, she screamed. Right after that, she threw her left hand out at me and screamed louder. What looked like the entire side of a diamond studded mountain range shined up at me from her ring finger and, under the florescent lights of the kitchen, nearly blinded me.

"Baby, can you believe it?!" She cried.

She gave me no time to answer. She threw her entire body at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck, "I missed you, mama! I missed you so %%*%#^^ mu--" She pulled back, studied me, gasped deeply, dramatically, and clutched my shoulders, "Your hair."

"I cut it."

"Your necklace!"

"I made it."

"Your face."

"I…" I stammered, "Washed it."

This, apparently, was good enough to Tasha. She screamed, again, and grabbed my face between her thin hands. Her ring was cold against my right cheek.

Uh oh, incoming. Big, bright, freshly lip-glossed lips were headed straight towards mine.

"Mwah!"

I turned my cheek just in time. I imagined the mark her Come @%#* Me Red lipstick must have left against my caramel colored skin.

"Lillian!" Came Natasha's offended cry. "Kiss me, I'm your sister."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Justin's lip twitch.

I thought about how much I missed that smirk. I wondered why he was marrying my sister. I stared down at her impeccably flat stomach. Her chocolate brown skin was slightly peeking out from under the black cami she wore. Well, it certainly didn't look like she was pregnant. So why? Why?

I looked at him. Why Justin?

The moment I put my attention on her, I saw her when she was five, kissing all of us good night. One by one. I felt guilty. I reached up and cupped her face in my hands, exactly the way she was mine. "I love you, Tasha."

And I meant it.

--

Two hours and two bottles of Grey Goose later, Justin and Tasha were becoming more and more familiar to me than ever. At the far end of the living room Justin was drunk as a skunk and currently attempting to do the hustle with my Uncle Roy. They weren't so much doing the hustle as they were drunkenly trying not to run into, trip over or throw up on each other with a calculating spin or head toss thrown in every other second.

Tash and I were in the kitchen, alone. She was taking languid sips of the beer in her hand, kicking her legs out from where she sat on the counter. Her long, thin legs hung far over the edge. She had always been long, tall and beautiful. Her skin was dark like Hershey's chocolate, a trait that most people would find unattractive. But my sister was stunning. More beautiful that most women in the world. For a long time, I didn't like sitting next to her or even being near her. I felt that her beauty eclipsed mine so drastically. Her hair was thick and curly. My own was long, to my bra strap, but very flat and very thin. She'd inherited our great grandmother's green eyes. I had my mother's eyes, a dark brown so dark that they looked black. I didn't think I was a dog, not by any means, but I couldn't touch Tasha in the looks department. That much was clear to everyone. I'd realized it very early on in life and had gotten over any jealous a very long time ago.

I sat next to her on the kitchen island, arm to arm, sipping my own beer.

"It feels so different around here." She said, her voice still full of cheer. "It's like I'm a stranger in my own grandmother's house, or something."

"Hey, you've been in New York and LA with Justin for almost a year. Nobody can blame you for the culture shock of coming back to Kankakee."

She looked back towards the living room where Justin was still stumbling. "God, can you believe it? I mean… Justin!" She beamed.

I widened my eyes and took a heavy swig of my beer.

"Justin!" She cried, "The same kid who used to chase us home on our bikes in junior high whenever he got wood."

I burst into laughter.

"Chirst, Lil, do you remember that? He used to watch all of those porn movies and wanted to re-enact them with us? He would show us his ^^+^ and then beg us to show our vaginas? Do you remember how he used to try to bribe us with Trident Gum? One piece for showing and two pieces for--"

"Putting them together!" I beamed. I vividly remembered these bribes. I'd never told Natasha--I'd never told anyone-- that I actually had showed Justin my twelve year old vagina one day. He'd showed me his penis, as well, although I couldn't remember what it had looked like. He'd kept his word, though. I got my piece of Trident Gum. I didn't even run for my life until he offered me two pieces, just like Tasha had recalled, if I'd let him stick his penis against mine.

I fell onto the island behind me, drying of laughter. It was funny now, but back then I was sure I'd been mildly traumatized.

"Jesus Christ." Tasha shook her head, sputtering softly along with me, "%%*%#^^ pervert. And, let me tell you, honey, time has definitely not healed those wounds."

I sat up, "What? Justin still as horny as he was when we were kids?"

"Lil… he's worse. We have sex… all the time."

I grinned, "Most people wouldn't see that as something to complain about."

"Hey, I love sex. Love it. Don't get me wrong. But, my god, when it gets to the fifth time in one day… that's when I start to forget my own name. That's when my vagina starts going on strike."

I stared at her, unable to comprehend the thought of her and Justin bumping uglies but unable to stop listening at the same time.

"That kid can @%#* like nothing I've ever seen."

"Is he good?" I whispered.

Tasha blushed. She never blushed.

"Really?" I cried. Quickly, I looked over my shoulder. Justin was still in the living room, dancing away. "Really?" I asked, again.

"Lilly, baby… I have never been with a man that is so… determined, so virile, so %!!%#%+* eager. He eats me out--"

I gasped.

"Every night! He knows his way around down there, Lil. Like he owns the place, or something. He knows what he's doing and he loves it--"

"He loves it?"

"It's one of his favorite things to do."

I don't know why I found that so funny, but I did. "I remember when he used to show us those porn movies when we were little. I remember how he used to say how gross vaginas were. That he would never put his lips against one the way the men did in those movies."

"Well…" Tasha clicked her tongue and took a heavy swig of her beer. "He tells me that I have the prettiest *##^# he's ever seen. Not fat, or saggy or discolored. He says it small and pretty and pink. Maybe that's why he's so eager to lick it, I don't know. Don't give a fuck, either. As long as he keeps on doing it."

I stared at her. Really stared. "Do you love him, Tash?"

She threw me a look. "Would I be marrying him if I didn't?" Clearly, from the tone of her voice, my question offended her.

"It's just so… weird!" I cried, throwing my hands out. "Weird and… and great, Tash." I forced myself to humble, "I'm so happy for you." I was surprised that I meant the words, whole heartedly.

Her eyes were warm, "I love you. So much. Too much."

My eyes grew moist, "Me too."

Then she went on the same tirade that she did every time she and I spoke, "Why don't you move out to New York, Lilly?"

And I answered the way I always did. "No."

"God, get out of this place!"

"I like this place."

"We would have so much fun. You can stay with me and Justin until you find a place of your own."

"Natasha, I have Lilly." I said, referring to our fifteen month old niece, who'd been named after me. My twin sister, Bianca, didn't think it would be at all strange or confusing to name her first born daughter the same name as her twin sister. She'd been wrong. For a year I'd been taking care of Lilly and I still hadn't come up with a suitable nickname. Neither had anyone else. She wouldn't respond (as much as a fifteen month old could respond) to anything but Lilly.

"You could bring Lilly with you. The condo in New York is big. The house in LA is bigger. Justin would probably give you the condo. He's planning on buying a new one, anyway."

"I don't want him giving me anything, Tash."

"He wants to, baby. You have no idea how much he asks about you. He loves you."

"He could have been there." I hissed, "He could have been at Bianca's funeral, don't you think? What if it had been me or you that got killed in that car crash? Huh? What if it was one of us that died and he didn't show up because he had an awards show--"

"A concert. A scheduled concert." She tried to stand up for her man.

"Whatever." I beamed. I didn't realize how angry I actually was at him until right then.

She stared at me. Tasha was a stare-er. Especially if she hadn't seen you for a long period of time. She'd just stare. As if she was trying to memorize you.

"Every time I get off the phone with you he asks me what we talked about. How you are. What's going on with your life. And I don't mean just a fleeting yes or no conversation. He asks for detail. He's even asked me if you're seeing anyone a couple of times. That kid worries about you. Sometimes I feel like he worries about you more than me… it's a little unsettling." She grinned, "He wants to be apart of your life, but he's scared. He thinks that you hate him."

"Maybe I do." I whispered, taking a long swig of my beer.

"You shouldn't." She said, parental. "You shouldn't hate him. 'Cause, my god, Lil, does that boy love you. Weren't you the one that told me there's nothing more important in the world than love? Genuine love? I genuinely love you. Bi-Bi genuinely loved you. So does Justin. We were all each other had. We still are. God, give him a %%*%#^^ chance. It's been twelve years, hasn't it?"

I contemplated her words very carefully. She was right. She was always right. I just wanted her to stop talking because I hated it when she was right.

"With your Tyra Banks looking ass." She whispered, lovingly. "All that pretty caramel skin. How the hell did you and Bianca get away with that pretty skin and I got stuck with this?" She threw a long, chocolate arm out.

I cocked an eye at her, "Tash, you have skin like butter and you know it."

She grinned and ran a hand languidly over her arm, "It is nice, isn't it?"

I threw her a look, then elbowed her with all of my might, she just laughed.

Suddenly, she leaned over to me and whispered, "I'm going to make Justin stay here for a month while I'm away in Mulan."

I pulled away from her, my eyes wide as saucers, "You're kidding."

A playful smile crossed her face and she slowly shook her head, no. "I'm going to make him stay and get to know his family. We are his family now."

"There is no way you'll get him to stay here for a month."

"Watch me." Natasha was so confident that I suddenly didn't doubt her for even a second.

"But he hates it here, so much."

"And who can blame him?" She shrugged.

"Then why would you make him stay? Why would you do that to him?"

"Because we've been together for four years now. Do you know how many times I've visited with his family? Thirteen."

I sputtered.

"Thirteen visits to Tennessee with a bunch of country ass white people who aren't exactly thrilled to be gaining a boon black girl for kin, okay? His mother is real sweet, you know that, 'cause she's lived up here with us for most of her life. But the rest of his family…" She blew air through her cheeks, "Let me tell you, Lil, I had to work to get on their good side. Do you know how long we visited with them last summer? Two months. Two months. Do you know how long Justin has visited with my family?" She threw out her arm and checked her watch, "Five hours and twenty seven minutes."

I laughed out loud.

"That is a pathetic comparison and if he makes a big deal out of spending a month with my family in a place that he grew up then we are going to have a real problem. He and I are equals and he needs to understand that."

I shook my head at her, "Tash, you're bold. I don't doubt for a second that you can do this… but you're bold." I looked away, then added, "You're going to leave him here, alone?"

"It's fashion week in Mulan. He hates that kind of stuff."

"Fashion week or fashion month?"

"Fashion week. Which means that budding fashionistas, like myself, need to start kissing a lot of ass a month in advance if she wants that week to go her way."

"What designer is going to be cussing you out day in and day out this time?"

"Dolce and Gabbana."

Now I didn't know fashion, but I knew that. I sputtered on the beer I'd just sipped, "Tasha!" I beamed.

She shrugged, as if it meant nothing. She didn't even hug me back when I threw my arms around her with glee. It had always been her dream to be a fashion designer. I remembered during her sophmore year she saved up every penny she made at the Piggly Wiggly to buy an amazing sewing machine. It took her a year to save up the money. The machine cost to grand and had to be ordered from out of state. Her entire life had revolved around getting that machine. The moment it arrived, it was as if she was a different person. Kind of the way most women are when they see the baby they've been carrying in their womb for the first time in nine months. She made clothes for me, my mom, Bianca and our father constantly. Needless to say, when the time came for college applicating, she had a highly impressive collection and was accepted to FIT without hesitation. Four years later she graduated. A month after that, she moved in with Justin, who was a superstar by then. It started out as just a friend helping a friend, lending a couch to sleep on.

Obviously, that had quickly escalated.

"Tasha, its Dolce and Gabbana! That is out of control! Why aren't you more excited?"

"You know I'm more of a Channel girl." She held up her 3,500 Channel bag as very good proof, with a shrug. I knew my sister. I knew her well enough to know that she was only this calm about something when she was extremely nervous. She'd rather not show how thrilled she was about something until she'd actually succeeded. That way, if she didn't succeed, she could pretend that she never really cared in the first place and spare herself a little embarrassment.

She was strong. She was smart. "I'm going to make Justin stay here. At Grannie's."

I watched her, "And I'm not going to be around when you do." I jumped up, "It's getting late, anyway."

"Who's watching Lilly? Can I come see her?"

"She'll be sleeping. The babysitter's sixteen and he has school tomorrow, so…"

"Your babysitter is a boy?"

"He's a good boy."

"But a little boy can't take care of a little girl."

I was slipping on my jacket. "He actually does a better job that I do most of the time."

"I want to see Lilly before I leave for Mulan."

"Come by tomorrow morning before nine."

"My flight leaves tonight."

"Then come by tonight. She'll be sleeping but you can still see her."

She waved a dismissive hand. "I'll see her when I get back from Mulan. She wont have changed much in a month, right?"

She had no idea how quickly children grew, that much was clear. When Bianca died, it never had been a question of which of us should take care of Lilly. Natasha had a life and a career and a boyfriend in New York City. I… had nothing.

"Right." I humored her, "Come over here and hug me dark chocolate."

She jumped off of the counter and threw herself at me, holding me in a violent grip.

"Okay… Tash… can't breathe."

"I just love you so much… I don't think you know."

We stood that way, holding each other, for at least five minutes. When we finally did release each other, I didn't want to let go.

"Don't wait so long to come see us next time." I insisted, "And knock 'em dead at fashion month."

"Fashion week, Lil."

"Whatever."

She tried to throw a kiss on my lips.

I threw my head to the side, giving her cheek.

"Lillian!"

I gave her another kiss on the cheek of my own free will to make peace. She accepted it and, hugged me one last time. "I'll call you." She said, patting my ass as I walked out of the kitchen. She was my older sister, but it rarely ever felt that way.

I headed out of the house the back way so I wouldn't have to make small talk with anyone. If there was anything I was bad at, it was small talk.

I stepped out into the cold and wrapped my arms around myself, making my way out of the backyard was like a second nature. I didn't even have to look up from my green converses to make my way to my home. The house two doors down.

I descended the steps of the patio and stopped in my tracks at the voice.

"Lilly."

I turned on my heel and there was Justin, making his way out of the patio door behind me, and closing it shut. "I saw you leaving."

I tightened my arms around myself, "I've got to get Lilly to bed."

"Two Lilly's in one house." His smile was bright, "That… is trouble."

I could only shrug.

"You're just going to leave without saying goodbye, huh?"

"I figured I'd give it a shot. Worked out well for you, didn't it?"

His face fell. "Ouch." He hissed.

I studied him. "Goodnight Justin."

"Wait…" He jammed his eyes shut and hurried towards me, catching my elbow in his hand. The feeling of his hands on me brought alive an amazing sensation that felt deceitful the second it hit me. "Wait, wait, wait…"

I grinned up at him, "I've never seen you move so fast." I informed.

He stared at me.

"This is me… waiting." My smile widened.

He continued to stare, "I just…" He didn't finish. Then he licked his lips and looked away. Seconds after that, he released me and met my eyes, again. "I just wanted to say goodnight to you. That's all." He seemed very anxious. This was out of character for him. Very out of character. "I miss you, you know?"

It was my turn to stare.

"You remember how it used to be? The old days? We were parters in crime in everything. Remember? Remember how we would have each other's back before anyone else's? Remember all the times we both got in trouble together, even if one of us had nothing to do with it?"

My eyes caught fire in his. "I remember it all, Justin." My words were biting. I wanted them to be.

"So do I." He said, meaningfully, passionately, "I miss the hell out of you, Lil."

"You said that."

"I mean it."

He was used to being ogled, so when I stared, he wasn't bothered. He seemed to take note of the expression on my face, because he took it down a note. "I just wanted to say goodnight."

I backed away from him completely. "Goodnight."

"You'll be at the wedding?" He was now obviously clawing for any conversation. "You'll be at the wedding, right?"

"Of course I'm coming to the wedding Justin. You're marrying my sister, remember?" I had to laugh. In a lot of ways, he was a completely different person. In a lot of ways, he was exactly the same.

"So it's not goodbye." He called as I made my way out of my grandmothers backyard, "It's see you later!"

"I'll see you later, Justin!" I waved a hand over my shoulder before disappearing behind my grandmothers fence. I heard him say one last thing before I was completely out of earshot. I never could decide whether he wanted me to hear it, or whether he was talking to himself.

"I'm thinking about you, Lillian."

I froze on the other side of the fence and leaned the entire weight of my body against it. Vaguely, I heard his crunching footsteps as they moved away from me and waited until I heard the sliding door open and close before I moved again.

"I've been thinking about you for twelve %%*%#^^ years. Kiss my ass, Justin."

And, god, did I mean it.

With all of my heart.

More than two millions kisses on the lips could ever express.

-- 

Justin

It was never a big secret to anyone that my fiancé was a few sandwiches short of a picnic. A little out of touch. Okay, you know what? Let's be for real. My fiancé is a little insane. And by a little, I mean a lot.

My fiancé is a lot insane and, judging from the nuclear bomb she'd just dropped on me in the middle of our engagement party, she wasn't going to be proving me wrong on that anytime soon. I knew she'd been up to something from the moment she a Lillian made their way into the kitchen alone and didn't make their way out until half an hour later.

I'd been secretly watching them sitting next to each other on the kitchen counter earlier in the party. I'd been dancing in the living room, trying to clear my damn mind. Usually, dancing was my escape. All my problems disappeared whenever I did. All I had to do was close my eyes and start moving. The rest of the world ceased to exist. Tasha saw that as a real problem and suggested I seek therapy. I saw it as a gift. A release. One of the few things that kept me from going absolutely crazy in my world.

Somehow, though, dancing had done me no good that night. My concentration was shaken. All become of one person. One woman. One woman who had me wondering where the hell I'd been when she'd become a woman. That last time I saw Lilly she was a girl, at best. A girl that it was difficult to leave behind because I had no clue who the hell would take care of her while I was gone. Things were different now.

Lilly had laughed a lot during their time in the kitchen. Tasha was always funny, but Lillian wasn't a laugher. I remembered that about her. Back when we were kids I always knew I'd said something truly funny whenever I managed to get a smile out of Lilly. Making her laugh always felt about a million times better than it did with anyone else. It made me feel like fucking Superman, in fact. I only recall making her loud out loud once or twice in my lifetime. I remember the sound, the way her entire face transformed-- I even remembered the jokes I'd told. I'd never forgotten them.

Watching her laugh so easily, I'd wondered if Tasha was saying something really funny or if, twelve years later, Lillian had learned not to be so stingy with her laughs. I could only pray for the former. I didn't like the idea that she was different, even though that was obviously inevitable.

I couldn't help but wonder, though, what they could have possibly been taking about.

Now I had my answer.

"I think that's got to be the funniest thing you've ever said to me, baby."

My fiancé had resumed her place on the counter and I didn't want to be anywhere near her at the moment, so I was leaning on the one right across. I was at the farthest possible corner with my arms crossed shooting daggers at the woman. I was convinced that, if I tried hard enough, flames would fly from my eyes and douse her. Thus shutting her up and leaving me in peace.

No such luck. "I've never been so serious in my life, Justin." Her dark drown skin was glistening with sweat from dancing and she was a little bit annoyed, so her green eyes were tighter, more fierce. Every limb on her body that was capable of being crossed was crossed. Her arms, her legs, everything. She flat refused to lose an argument, my Tasha. It was one of the things that bothered me the most about her. Watching her now, however, I couldn't help but notice how fucking sexy she was. I could have taken her upstairs right then if I wasn't pretty upset my damn self. "I have to be in Malan for Fashion Week, anyways, Justin, you know that--"

"I wasn't planning on going to Fashion Week with you because I already have other things to take care of Tasha, we talked about this."

"Maybe you're forgetting that I'm your fiancé and I know you better than anyone. The only thing you have to take care of in New York is partying and getting drunk. The only thing you have to do in Los Angeles is party and get drunk with Trace on your heels like the sick fucking puppy that he is--"

"Hey…" I threw a warning finger up, "That's one." I warned. We had an agreement. She was allowed to insult Trace two times in the span of twenty four hours. After that it was whatever Justin wants tonight in bed… Justin gets. Suffice to say, she and I had made some pretty wild nights for ourselves thanks to Trace. Just another reason to call the man my best friend… and my best man.

It was as if that girl was reading my very thoughts, "And no Trace can't come down here with you!"

That was precisely what I'd been thinking, how she knew that, I would never know. "I don't recall agreeing to come down here in the first place." I said, smiling, then laughed.

Tasha's nostrils flared. "What's funny?" She cried, holding her arms out at her sides.

Yep, she was getting upset. She always hated it when I laughed during fights. I made sure to do it as often as possible. See, when she and I fight, it's all about who can get who the most mad the quickest. Who can hurt who's feelings the most. We knew each other very well, and our fights were never pretty. This one was actually going very well. No punches had been thrown. Good china had yet to be destroyed. So far, so good.

Her arms were back to being crossed over her perfect fucking tits. Why was she hiding them? Such a waste. "You're staying."

If only she didn't have a tongue. My eyes fluttered shut and I sighed. I'd grown tired of this. "No."

"You're staying."

"No."

"You're staying, Justin!"

"Natasha!"

"What?!"

The party was long over, but I was a little concerned about waking her grandmother upstairs. From what I remembered of her, she was no different from her granddaughter and was not the woman to piss off if you could help it.

"Look, I'm sorry, baby…"

Her shoulders visibly relaxed. She saw my apology as surrender.

"But I'm not going to come quietly on this. I'm just not." I pulled a bottle of hand sanitizer from my pocket and squeezed a good chunk of it on before rubbing it in furiously.

"You haven't even touched anything, baby." Tasha rolled her eyes.

"Still…" I mumbled, making sure my skin had completely dissolved all of it before giving her my full attention, again. "Still."

Tasha scoffed, then rolled her eyes, again, looking away from me. "Whatever." She whispered.

So I was a little bit of a germ-a-phobe. So what?

"Why is it okay for me to spend three months in Tennessee with a family that hates my guts but you can't stay here for thirty stinkin' days, Justin? I'm just asking that you get to know my family. I don't think that's a lot to ask."

"I already know your family, Tasha! I grew up two houses down from here."

"Well, you'd never know it. You treat this place like it's a foreign country. You treat my family like complete strangers. I had to remind you of the names of aunts and uncles who opened their homes to you when we were kids. People who fed you when you weren't even their own. People who picked you up from school and held your head when you cried and did their peace in making you the man you are today. You can't stop putting on that fucking sanitizer." She covered her face with her hand and groaned with frustration.

She hated the hand sanitizer.

"You've gone out of your way not to touch anything and you still douse your hands with that stuff every ten minutes. Do you think my family didn't notice that? You're insulting them."

Alright, that was enough, "I am not insulting them, Tasha."

"Yes, you are. You think you're so much better than everyone."

"Whoa! I do not think that I am better than anybody, how dare you? I have a phobia!"

"You have a hang-up. You have a hang-up with Kankakee. But, guess what Justin? No matter what you do, no matter how far you run and no matter how much money you make Kankakee will always be apart of you! It will always be apart of you! Why don't you grow a fucking pair, accept that and spend a month winning back everything you've lost. And you've lost a lot."

I cut my eyes at her. "Don't tell me what I've lost, Tasha. God, shut up. This is my life."

"We are getting married in six months, Justin! Six months! This…" She motioned all around her, then back and forth between us, "Is our life!"

I stared at her. "Don't tell me what I've lost." Was all I could say.

And she knew she'd won. "Lilly…"

My head shot up at the name.

She noticed, "Lilly mentioned that she had an extra room."

I shook my head, "You're really pulling out the big guns, aren't you, baby?" I scowled at her.

Tasha raised an eyebrow at me, "I'm just telling you what my sister told me."

"Your sister hates me."

"Says who?"

Much to my frustration, I couldn't answer that.

"Lilly offered you a room in her home… she obviously doesn't hate you. She's not exactly thrilled with you… no. But that's nothing that can't be mended in a month."

My voice was wavering, and I was embarrassed, "Didn't Bianca stay in that extra room?"

Tasha was now staring out of the small window to her right. Her mind was somewhere else, "Yeah." She answered.

I took a few deep, solid breaths, cursed the very soil I was standing on and changed my mind at least twenty times before saying, "You can't call me in the middle of the night…"

Tasha's head shot to me, her eyes were wide. She'd obviously been expecting this to be a fight to the death.

"You know I hate that." I reminded.

It was one of her favorite things to do, talk on the phone about shit that didn't and would never matter in the middle of the night, but she readily agreed, "No late night calls. Done."

"I'm going to eat meat while you're away…"

She sucked in a breath.

"And a lot of it." My eyes bore into hers.

She seethed and hissed through clenched teeth, "Fine."

"And that stupid fucking idea you had about not having sex until the wedding? That ends…" I smirked, "Right now."

She stared at me. The look in her eyes…

"Baby?" I gave her a worried look.

"So… you're staying?" She whispered.

Her bashfulness was out of character and I was a little uncomfortable, "Given that you don't call me at two am, accept that I'm going to be a McDonalds fiend and remove all your clothes as soon as humanely possible… yes, I'll stay."

She did just that, reaching up and undoing the first button of her red blouse, then the second.

Every bit of skin that she revealed to me excited me a little more, "Yeah, baby…" I whispered.

She slid slinky down from the counter, her shirt almost completely undone. I could already see that she was wearing the purple flowery bra. It was a nice bra. What was under it? Even nicer.

"Is that all it takes?" She bit her lip and sauntered over to me.

My hands were on her in an instant. I was hard and horny and ready to fuck, but I would go slow if that's what she wanted. "What?" I asked, brushing my nose against her. I leaned down and tried to kiss her but she pulled away just enough for me to miss.

"A month with Lilly…"

I pulled my head away completely.

"I should have just said that from the start, huh?"

Blood boiled under my skin, but she didn't seem to notice. In fact, as she slowly sank to her knees, she didn't even seem to realize the effect her words had.

She look up at me from where she was on her knees, and I vaguely recalled that her grandmother was asleep upstairs. I failed to care.

"Oh… before I forget." She popped the button of my jeans open and shot her electric eyes up at me, "Trace is a faggot."

"That's two." I snapped my fingers and pointed behind her, "On the counter, Natasha, face down."

The thought of a month in Kankakee was enough to make me scream at the top up my lungs, but--for now, I'd leave that up to my future wife.