Chapter Twelve

Laney and I saw the movie She's All That when it came out. I hated it (it started a long standing hatred of Freddy Prinze Jr for Laney) because I find that type of thing highly unbelievable. I can sit and watch Pierce Brosnan single-handedly save the day as James Bond. I can even buy Tom Cruise as some big muscle guy when he's actually about five feet tall.

Whatever works for the movie.

But I draw the line at stupidity. She's All That was crazy. How do you not notice a hot girl with great legs that's right in front of your face? Why do you need a dress that shows off her curves and a new hairstyle to prove something? The movie makes it sound like every tomboy-type friend storyline…a fairy tale for the insecure fat chick-

What the hell are you going on about, Justin? Jesus, I knew letting him be a part of this story was a big mistake.

Laney Jane, I'm going to staple your mouth shut.

I'm doing you a favor here, my clueless chum. I assure you that the "insecure fat chick" will take offense to that comment and immediately burn her collection of baby blue WWJD bracelets. And if you even try to compare us to some teen movie-couldn't you at least pick Pretty In Pink? I think we are much more like Duckie and Andie than Rachel Leigh Cook and the putz who were never even friends.

If I ignore her stupid babble, maybe I can get on with what I was saying?

Or how about Sabrina-either version is better than being compared to a stupid movie with a midget and performance art.

Fine! I was trying to make a point here, Laney Jane, and you've completely ruined it.

Where was I?

Right. Well, I never understood the premise to these movies. Did these women suddenly wake up different one day? Or was it more like another person (maybe an ex-girlfriend?) had the guy so confused about what was going on and this great pair of legs appears at his door and all logic floats out the door? I couldn't put my finger on it, but when the day of the Oscars came, I was suddenly up to my eyes in Sabrina (There. Are you satisfied, Laney Jane?) references?

My Laney Jane cleans up nice.

I had snuck out of her room early in the morning. It wasn't as dirty and cheap as it sounded, but my head was pounding and all I wanted was a long shower. I had the dream again-the perfect dream. I had been having it a lot lately and it always went the same way. I was singing to a girl-not a girl, but the girl-on the beach and that wonderful feeling of happiness was practically bursting out of my lungs.

Of course I woke up and was reminded that Britney and I were completely through. Any chance I had for reconciliation with her had flown out the window with my obnoxious comments. It was enough to make me sick. And then there was Laney. She looked so peaceful, so unaware of all the chaos that could be happening to us…that if I didn't get a grip and dismiss Britney's absurd assumptions about my best friend and myself, there was a chance our friendship would be over.

That was not an option.

I rolled out of the bed, jotted down a note to Laney Jane that I'd see her later, and made my way back to my own room.

I ended up not seeing Laney Jane until it was time to leave. Most of the morning, I was in meetings with the guys about our upcoming schedule-a week in Japan before returning to New York for a few days and then back to Orlando until the tour started. I was excited about the quick change of pace. No time to harp on anything Britney said and a chance for me to get back to my non-Laney lifestyle.

By the time we got out of our meetings, the girlfriends had dragged Laney Jane with them to get ready and giggle-stuff that I would never understand, but whatever-and we were expected to do the same thing. Well, without the giggling. After all, we were guys.

"Do you think this color makes me look fat?" Joey asked in a fake-feminine voice, spinning around in front of the mirror.

Chris rolled his eyes as he adjusted his cumber bun, "Joey, can't you take anything seriously? Jeez."

I sat on the bed and bit at my nails. I stared at my tuxedo and tried to block my idiot friends out. I knew they were as nervous as I was, but they could never take anything seriously. At that moment, serious was what I thought we needed. I glanced at them, "Can you guys stop it? How long is Lance going to be in there? I need to shave."

Chris patted my face, "Someone didn't get any sleep. We told you not to stay out late last night, crabby pants."

"I didn't stay out late," I protested.

I caught Joey give me a strange look. He smiled and said, "Okay, maybe you shouldn't have stayed in late, J."

I glared at the two of them. What the hell were they talking about? I stood up and ran over to the bathroom. I banged on the door, "Lance? Are you done yet?"

The door opened a crack, "Sorry J. I was told to monopolize the bathroom until Joey and Chris got some information out of you." The door shut in my face and I growled. I turned around and Chris and Joey were blocking me in. I felt like I was stuck in some movie where the geeky kid gets beat up by the bigger kids-except I was taller than both Joey and Chris and I wasn't a geek.

"Notice how he has nothing to say to that," Chris observed.

"Nothing to say to what? That the two of you need to get lives?"

"JC woke up early this morning. Anyway he saw something that caused him to disturb my beauty sleep-"

My snort interrupted Chris, "Your beauty sleep? You couldn't sleep long enough for that, Chris."

"I won't be deterred by your silly comments," Chris reached for his tuxedo jacket and put it on. He looked at me and finally asked, "Exactly why were you leaving Laney's room at seven thirty this morning, J?"

I glared at him and pushed past Joey. I wasn't going to let them confuse me any more than I already was. I wasn't about to admit that Britney and I were completely through. I grabbed my electric razor and a few other things. I huffed, "I'm going to shower and shave in one of the other rooms. We don't have time for this shit."

Joey glanced at his watch, "We've got plenty of time."

"Get those looks off your faces. Nothing happened."

"Uh-huh."

"Nothing happened," I said louder.

"Well, why the hell not?" Joey questioned.

My eyes narrowed on Joey and I replied, "Why would something happen? It's Laney Jane. I've known her since we were eleven. You don't suddenly wake up and fall in love with your best friend! It doesn't happen! It's not allowed to happen!"

Chris shot me an amused look. He waved his hand in front of my face before turning to Joey. He whispered to Joey, loud enough for me to still hear, "You and JC were right. Definitely something to this."

"There is nothing to this!" I hollered. I felt my face turning beet red and if I didn't get out of that room, I was going to kill someone. Why was everyone trying to push Laney Jane down my throat out of the blue? Why did everyone care so much?

Joey ignored me and whispered back to Chris, "He wouldn't deny something so much if there wasn't any truth to it."

"THAT'S IT! SIT DOWN," I demanded.

Chris and Joey looked at each other and obediently took seats at the table by the window. I said, "I went to Laney's room because Britney dumped me."

Joey looked at Chris skeptically, "Didn't Brit dump him two weeks ago?"

Chris nodded and I said, "Well, I called her last night. I wanted to see if maybe we could fix things, but she informed me she had a date. A fucking date!"

"So you went to Laney for comfort?" Joey asked.

"I guess…but not like you think. I would never use Laney Jane to--nothing happened. We went to sleep. I didn't jump her bones," I tried to explain. This was harder than I thought it would be. I was having trouble making sense of why I went to Laney's room last night as it was. Lots of girls had broken things off with me. Lots of terrible things had happened in my life-and I never had to see Laney to handle it. I attempted to push past the confusion and went on, "Laney is my friend and I really need that right now. So please stop this shit."

"Britney dumped you because there was someone else?"

"I wasn't seeing anyone else."

"Was she?"

"No. This is a new development. I think she wanted to make it clear that she was done with me," I said. I shook my head, "And of course I got pissed off and any chance there was for a reconciliation is gone. I put my foot right into my mouth."

"You? No way," Chris quipped.

"Shut up."

Chris raised his hands, "Sorry. I was kidding…so why did you and Britney break up?"

There it was. The question I had avoided answering with everyone. I knew everyone was confused by my sudden tight-lipped behavior, but I couldn't bring myself to tell them about Britney's allegations regarding my feelings for Laney Jane. And with the way they were already on a Laney kick, I couldn't risk them blowing this up into some big thing. If I didn't watch it, I'd be dealing with meddling friends trying to get us together. I had no choice but to lie. I shrugged, "Different schedules."

"Britney broke up with you because of different schedules?" Chris replied in disbelief. He knew I wasn't telling the truth. Of all the guys, he was usually the first to detect my bullshit. Surprisingly, he let it slide and added, "That sucks."

"Yeah."

"You need to find a girl that can get used to the fact that you're gone for months at a time."

"If Britney couldn't put up with it, I'm not sure anyone else could."

"You need a girl secure enough in her own life and her relationship with you that it doesn't matter," Chris went on.

I eyed him suspiciously. I caught Joey grinning like an idiot out of the corner of my eye and replied cautiously, "Yeah, let me know if you find a girl like that."

"I think I know a girl," Joey spoke up.

I groaned, "Don't say it."

"She seems to know you pretty well…"

"Don't say it!" I repeated.

"And she's quite the spit-fire," Joey finished.

I grabbed my stuff and knocked on the door of the bathroom. Lance opened it up and I pulled him out of the bathroom. I shouted, "Your time's up," as I slammed the door shut in his face.

I turned the shower on, more to drown out the chatter in the other room. I didn't need this right now. I needed to pretend like Laney Jane was still the twelve-year-old girl that threw the basketball threw my window by accident during a game of Horse. Or think about the time she snorted up diet coke all over herself while we were watching Dazed and Confused. If I thought of her when we were younger, all these ridiculous accusations and ideas would go away. There would be no weirdness and Laney and I could be ourselves again.

I hopped in the shower, making it as hot as possible. If I kept my attention on boiling water hitting my skin, I wouldn't have time to dwell on anything else.

I emerged from the bathroom a half hour later. The guys were all gone and there was a note on the dresser to change and meet in the main room. I crumpled up the paper and stared at myself in the mirror. I yelled at myself, Get it together, Timberlake. You're going to go out there, see Laney Jane, and everything will be normal. Everything will be just like it always has been. Buddies. Just buddies. Think buddies!

I changed quickly and made my way down the hall. I saw Lonnie standing there and smiled, "Everyone else ready?"

"They're waiting on you, little man."

I nodded. I stuck my head in the door. I saw Chris jumping up and down nervously while Dani patted his cheeks and whispered something to him. At the moment, I wanted something like that. Why couldn't Britney wait to pull this crap on me until a week later?

I opened the door completely and walked in. JC commented, "Mr. Priss has finally decided to grace us with his presence."

I scowled and said, "Sorry." I held up my hand to reveal the last piece of my outfit and said, "My mother usually takes care of ties for me."

Chris laughed and someone behind me replied, "You're as bad as my father. I had to learn how to fix his ties when I was eight because he couldn't do it himself."

I turned and felt all my breath leave my lungs with a whoosh. Laney Jane was standing there, looking so pretty-not just pretty, but radiant. It was a simple black dress, but it didn't look so simple on Laney. She wasn't wearing much make-up but it was enough to make her look like one of the porcelain dolls that my mother collected-smooth, translucent, and perfect. Her arms and shoulders were bare except for two small spaghetti straps. There was a small slit in the leg that left just enough to the imagination and her hair fell over her shoulders in bouncy curls.

I couldn't breath and finally Laney shook her head, "Yeah, I know. I look like an idiot."

"No…you…" I stuttered as my eyes roamed along her tanned arms over and over again.

Laney seemed uncomfortable with my wandering eyes and ran her hands over her arms to cover them up, "I told the others that I shouldn't wear a sleeveless dress. I believe Janeane Garofalo said it best when she discussed that there were either those with athletic arms or matronly arms. Guess where I fall? Please tell me I don't look like the Elephant Man."

"Hardly," I said quickly, too quickly for my liking, and I diverted my eyes to the carpeting. I ordered myself to stay concentrated on the diamond patterns in the flooring. I clutched at the tie in my hand and mumbled, "You look…you're…"

JC leaned in and whispered in my ear, "The word is 'beautiful' and I suggest you say it quickly."

I pushed JC away and forced myself to get it together. It was Laney Jane. It was my little Melanie Jane. I could do this. I handed her my tie, "I…uh…you look really nice, Laney Jane."

Nice? It was such a simple word and it hardly did Laney justice at the moment, but I couldn't manage anything else. When the hell had this happened? When had Laney become a girl? When had my Laney Jane become so damn pretty? She was messing everything up.

She smiled, her dimples showing, and pushed a loose hair off her face. She lifted my shirt collar and said, "Thanks. And stand still."

There wasn't much problem with that. I could barely remember to breath. My eyes shut and I mumbled, "Yeah, yeah." I tried to ignore the way her fingers felt on me as she fiddled with the tie. I tried not to think about how soft her skin was and how I had never noticed it before. I forced my mind to focus on the song I had to sing in a few hours. There was nothing Laney-like in the song. Not a thing.

"Okay, all done," she said carelessly. I blinked my eyes open and Laney was staring at me like I had three heads. She ran her hands over the arms of my jacket, causing my arms to prickle with goose bumps and nervous energy, and she added, "Not too shabby, Justin."

"I could say the same thing about you, Laney Jane. Good Lord," I said. I caught my eyes wander down the length of her and I was hit with a very strange feeling. It made me nauseous and I had to resist the urge to run out of the room and lock myself in my closet. I was suddenly Freddie Prinze Jr in She's All That. I was seeing Laney for the first time and I wasn't sure what the hell to make of it.

I told Justin not to use that stupid comparison. Did I not say, "Do not compare us to Freddie Prinze Jr and Rachel Leigh Cook in what could possible be defined as the worst movie ever?" Did he listen to me? No. Then again, he rarely does, so why am I surprised.

He makes it sound like I was some unattractive beast prior to buying a new dress and high heels. Yes, it's true. Justin is always great for the ego.

That is not what I said, Laney Jane.

No. It's what you inferred.

Like hell it is. And don't act like you weren't gawking at me either. I caught you staring at me with a very pleased look a few times.

Fine. I'll admit it. You looked good. Are you satisfied?

You want to marry me and have ten thousand of my babies, Laney Jane.

In case you can't tell, I'm rolling my eyes. For someone who claims to not like American Beauty, he can sure quote it whenever it suits his fancy. Yes, Justin looked good, but I didn't think anything of it. I figured it was because I wasn't used to seeing him looking all suave and debonair. Notice how I don't insult him by comparing him to a terrible movie…I just tell it like it is. Now that we've got that out of the way and Justin can get lost in the swelling of his own head, let me explain.

I felt completely out of place in that room and it didn't help that Justin had a look of horror embedded on his face when he saw me standing there. The other guys' girlfriends were so pretty and, not like I was some physically impaired mongrel, but I didn't think I belonged there. I didn't do the dress-up thing. I didn't wear make-up or worry about my hair. I didn't buy into the mentality that one-day I would wake up drop-dead gorgeous and surprise everyone I know with my stunning beauty.

And that morning I was up to my ears in the folklore of Cinderella. If I got that comparison one more time, I was going to have to kill someone. Besides, it was just Justin. It wasn't like I was meeting my Prince Charming and he'd sweep me away to a world of romantic bliss.

So when I caught Justin gawking at me for the whole ride over to the auditorium, I nearly had the driver pull over and let me out of the car. It was mildly disconcerting-the most unsettling part being that I found the attention quite nice. Don't get me wrong. It wasn't like I had been waiting a lifetime for Justin to notice me. Hardly. It was Justin. I had once witnessed him eat two large cheese pizzas by himself and then retreat to the bathroom for a good half hour. You didn't fall in love with a guy like that. There was no mystery, no illusion of perfection. You used guys like Justin to make you laugh and quietly wondered, "Why the hell haven't I outgrown this yet?"

The awards show itself was interesting enough. I was able to ignore my displacement anxiety by getting caught up in stargazing. Not to mention, the guys' costumes provided plenty of laughter and, when Justin returned to his seat, I made it a point to refer to him as my little Easter egg. After all, too many compliments in one night might turn the two of us into some bad B movie starring Billy Baldwin and Sherilyn Fenn.

"That was the longest four and a half hours of my life," Justin moaned, leaning his head on my shoulder once we were in the limousine. He closed his eyes and let out another small groan.

I smiled and countered, "Oh, but it was so worth it. Kevin Spacey won! He won! Kevin Spacey was victorious and Denzel was left to confront the fact that he was nothing but a middling adversary to Kevin's performance." I noticed Justin grimace at my excitement so I pointed at Lance and said, "Thanks for joining me, Lance. At least someone appreciates the talent that is Kevin Spacey."

"Yeah, thanks for encouraging her to draw attention to us, Lance," Justin said with a fake look of anger.

Lance shrugged, "Hey, Kevin Spacey deserved a standing ovation. The man is an amazing actor."

"He really is…just be thankful he won. I would've been very, very angry otherwise."

Lance's expression was blank and he asked, "I'm sure you would have handled the loss gracefully."

Justin started to laugh, not laugh, but cackle. He clutched his stomach and said, "You have no idea what you're talking about Lance."

"What? You really think Laney would have done something if Kevin Spacey had lost?"

"Last year she screamed at the television for a good hour. She was like my dad when the Braves were down by ten runs in the play-offs. She freaked out and had vulgarities flying out of her mouth left and right," Justin explained with a knowing smirk.

I glared at him, but admitted, "If I had been here last year for that travesty win in the leading actor category, someone would have died."

Justin rolled his eyes and said, "Roberto Begnini deserved the Oscar, Laney Jane. Sure, he got a bit carried away with his acceptance speech but-"

I glared at him in disbelief. He might as well have confessed to being a Marilyn Manson fan. I pushed his head off my shoulder and replied, "You think Mr. Make Love to the Audience deserved the Oscar more than Edward Norton? You did see American History X or am I-"

"That movie was too harsh for him to win."

"And a comedy about the Holocaust is the feel-good film of the year?" I countered.

Justin played with his cufflinks and replied, "You seemed to enjoy Life Is Beautiful. Or was that a different girl whose eyes misted over?"

I turned towards him and questioned, "Did you accuse me of being a…a…weeper?"

"Guys, look…it's the party in the distance," Lance interrupted. I guess he had been around us long enough to know that our arguments could go on and on and on. You would think he also knew that we disregarded other people when we were lost in our verbal altercations.

Justin waved him off and answered me, "Accuse? I was making an accurate statement, Laney Jane. You cry at movies."

"When they're bad and I realize I wasted two hours of my life on crap," I defended.

"Right. Sure."

"Don't try to shift the direction of this. We are discussing how someone who pretends to have brains," I paused and patted his hand, "YOU…how you could say that Edward Norton didn't deserve the Oscar! He was brilliant and he was robbed. And don't get me started on the year before when stupid Gwyneth Paltrow beat Cate Blanchett. The Academy needs to let me vote-"

Justin nudged me in the side and whispered, "Lance's date thinks you're crazy."

I smiled banefully and replied, "I'm not crazy. I take movies seriously…and I assure you that she's not classifying you as normal either, pal."

Justin fixed his tie, "I'm completely normal. You, however, are lacking in what I like to call basic sanity."

I smacked his hands away from his tie, knowing I would have to fix it for the tenth time in the evening, and said, "Wound me, why don't you?"

"Look. I agree that Gwyneth Paltrow's lisp can drive a person crazy and I don't think she's as hot as everyone makes her out to be, but let it go. It was two years ago, Laney."

"And that makes it okay? You don't forget upsets like that."

"I think you're the only person who was devastated by it," Justin muttered. He wrapped a piece of my hair around his pinky and added, "I'm sure Edward Norton is pleased to know you care, but my man, Roberto, wasn't completely undeserving of the win. He's not a bad actor."

I sighed, "I never said he was a dreadful thespian…what are you doing to my hair?"

"Kevin Spacey did give a nice acceptance speech," Justin said, ignoring my question.

I smiled, "He did, didn't he?"

"Yep."

"I'm really glad he won. He is a tremendous…" I paused momentarily and removed my hair from Justin's grasp. The past few weeks I felt like I was taking care of a two-year old obsessed with pulling hair. I continued talking, "…Kevin is oh-so-sexy. He looked so good. Damn." I fanned myself and caught Justin staring at me with an amused expression. I asked, "What?"

"He could be your dad, Laney Jane."

"So?"

"Just no."

I shrugged and decided to change the subject before Justin said something mean about Kevin Spacey that I couldn't forgive him for. I said, "Did you guys know that the first Academy Awards were handed out in May of 1929?"

Justin groaned and motioned to Lance and his date that I was crazy. He threw his hand over my mouth and said, "I think I can speak for Lance and his date when I say that we don't really care."

I bit his hand lightly and went on, "Well, they were. That was the only year they weren't covered by the media in some way. The next year they were broadcast on the radio…"

Justin looked at me pleadingly, "Good to know?"

"Yes…and in the beginning, the recipients of the awards knew in advance that they had won. It didn't become a secret until 1940."

Justin draped his arms over my shoulders, "What would I do without you, Laney? How could I survive without all this stupid information?"

"You'd be much more dense, that's for sure."

"Oh, is that a fact?"

"I'm afraid it is," I patted his head and commented, "I'm trying to help you here, J. Your looks will fade one day."

"Gee thanks."

"I'm not talking this minute."

"I spend the evening telling you how pretty you look and I get this. You're too good to me, Laney Jane."

"Stop fishing for compliments. Like I said earlier, you look really nice tonight-"

Justin grinned smugly, "You think I'm hot." Justin acknowledged the strange looks we were getting from Lance and his date. He added, "She thinks I'm hot."

"You caught me."

Justin patted my cheek, "You want to get me alone and do bad things. Don't ya?"

I burst out laughing, "Uh…sure. It's your night. I'll go along with that…not for long though. I only have so much self-restraint."

Justin shrugged and said to Lance, "So it's finally proven. All girls lose self-control when they're around me for too long, even Laney."

"Oh dear. The ego in this limousine is atrocious," I commented. I pulled on my dress and slid over to the opposite window. I saw groups of limousines and people shuffling into a building. I said, "Where are we anyway?"

"It's the Miramax Party. We're supposed to be here for a bit and then we can go to any of the other parties we want."

"Matt Damon makes a lot of Miramax movies," I said.

"Uh-huh," Justin said. He rolled his eyes, "I've lost her to the dark side now. She'll be in a Matt Damon stupor all night."

"Nothing wrong with that. That man is hot and perfect and…he's not too tall. It wouldn't be like kissing a giant."

Justin covered his ears, "I'm not hearing about your plans to seduce Matt Damon. Gross."

"Oh right. Like there is a chance in hell of that happening. He could have any girl he wants. Why would he want some average nobody?" I asked, twisting my hands together.

"Hey, that's my best friend you're talking about."

"Yeah, well, I'm plain."

"You aren't plain, Laney," Justin argued. The doors of limousine opened. Justin stepped out first and I was surprised when he held his hand out to help me up. It was completely strange, even for Justin. He seemed to notice my puzzlement and released my hand rather quickly. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and added, "I know I'm your friend, but trust me. You do not look plain in that dress."

"Okay, stop it. You're freaking me out."

"No more than you're freaking me out in that outfit," he quipped, wiggling his eyebrows. He laughed, "There has to be a guy here that would love to get you alone for a few minutes."

I slapped him lightly, "One could say that about you. I'm sure we can find you some actress with three names and get you the hook up."

We walked into the party and Lance immediately disappeared into the crowd. Justin glanced over his shoulder looking around and getting a feel for things. It was his ritual. He always took everything in from the sidelines for about ten minutes before he became the center of the party. Meanwhile, I stood there, looking like an idiot and feeling as out of place as the English guy that goes into an Irish pub on St. Patty's Day dressed in orange. I was sure I was going to have people point out that there was no room for me there and I'd get my ass kicked for attempting to enter their world. My nerves were on edge and I silently cursed myself for getting talked into accompanying Justin. I wasn't sure what the hell to do. I didn't know anyone and I doubted anyone could care less about me. I was nothing to these people.

"Do you want something to drink?" Justin asked.

"I guess."

"Okay. I'm going to find us drinks. When the other guys get here, let them know that I'll be right back," Justin said. He tapped my arm playfully and made his way through the groups of celebrities.

I nodded for no reason and found myself awe-struck as Jude Law and his wife walked past me. I found a small bench in the corner of the place and took a seat, trying to curb my fears and wonderment. Justin used to talk about these parties and premieres that he attended like it was a chore. Part of me always imagined what it was like at one of those parties-to be engulfed in a crowd of beautiful people that accepted you as one of their own. The more practical side of my head usually reeled me in before I got too caught up in the fantasy and asked to escort him to a party. You see deep down I always knew that it wasn't my thing. I wouldn't fit in.

And I was beginning to realize that I allowed logic to rule me for a reason. At that moment, I felt like I was stuck at some high school prom multiplied by a thousand. I watched as everyone made with the niceties and giggled and shared stories of vacations in Europe. How had I gotten myself talked into this? I didn't belong here. This wasn't my world. This was Justin's world and he had disappeared. It had been a good twenty minutes since he went to get us drinks.

He's probably found someone better to talk to, I told myself. I forced myself off the bench. I made my way to the back of the place, where I saw a small bar. My eyes wandered over the area, searching for Justin. He was the only person I knew and I was feeling very much like Seran Wrap at the moment.

I scanned the dance floor and saw Justin dancing with some girl that I didn't recognize. I was going to kill him. It wasn't like he couldn't dance with a girl, but he could have told me. He could have let me know so I wasn't standing around like some idiot. I folded my arms and took a seat at the bar before moaning into the bar top.

I heard something scrape along the wooden counter and my eyes fluttered open to see a beer placed in front of me. I glanced next to me but no one was standing there. I turned around slowly and my face went white. I must have inhaled some sort of hallucinogenic drug. That was the only logical explanation.

I pinched myself. This wasn't happening. I wasn't offered a beer by…

"I hate these fucking parties too. I don't even know half the people here," he said, hopping up on the stool to my left. He smiled at me and placed his drink on the bar.

I didn't say anything. I tried to manage a "hello" or even a "you're cool" but nothing came out. My grasp on the English language slipped away at the most inopportune times. It was as if I could not allow myself to process the fact that Matt Damon was sitting next to me and trying to engage me in a talk.

He took a sip of his martini before swallowing the olive. He nodded in the direction of the dance floor and said, "I hate sitting at these things, in suits no less that cost more than my monthly mortgage, while these teenagers talk about directing an episode of a WB show. But I have to come…so what's your deal? Are you one of Bob and Harvey's new protégés?"

"No." I was brilliant. Surely I had astounded him with my conversational skills and I immediately glanced anywhere but to my left.

Matt shrugged, "Let me guess. You're the protégé's date?"

"I'm not sure that's the word you would use to describe my friend. I came for moral support."

"Well, your friend is lucky, man. My buddies are supposed to meet me in a bit, but knowing them, they found pretty girls and got distracted," he replied. Matt lit up a cigarette and offered me one. I took it, unable to speak up and admit that I didn't smoke. He pulled out a lighter and held the flame over it for me, "Seems like you're having about as much fun as I am."

"Well, that friend of mine? He ditched me for a pretty blonde."

"Well, that was stupid. Blondes are a dime a dozen at these parties" he responded. His smiled and extended his hand, "Can you tell I've been in Hollywood too long? I don't even fucking introduce myself; I assume you know me. I'm Matt."

"I know." I know? Did I say, "I know?" Matt Damon was attempting to make me laugh and I reply, "I know." I was worse than Justin's overzealous fans. Next thing you knew I'd burst into tears and say something like, "I've waited my whole life to meet you." That wouldn't scare him or anything. I took a puff of my cigarette and coughed most of it back up.

So far I had made quite the impression on my favorite actor in the world.

"Do you have a name?"

"Melanie."

"Well Melanie, it was nice to meet you. If I don't mingle with these people, one of the Weinstein brothers will hunt me down and make my life excruciatingly painful," he paused. He drank the last of his martini and nodded at the beer before continuing, "That was for you. You looked worse off than me here."

I watched as he walked off and I grabbed the beer. I took a gulp, trying to calm my nerves over the fact that I had met Matt Damon. Where the hell was Justin? He was supposed to be here for moral support. It was assumed that he would keep me semi-sane and thwart any mortifying behavior that I might exhibit. Instead, he was off trying to forget about Britney with a pretty blonde and I ended up acting like some socially inept moron in front of my favorite actor.

I took another gulp of the beer and looked around for an ashtray as my cigarette began to wilt. I tried to get the bartender's attention but failed miserably. I leaned over and reached across a couple kissing and pulled the ashtray towards me. When I turned back around, I practically jumped out of my seat. Justin was hovering over me with a stern look. I clutched my chest, "You scared me."

He took the cigarette from my hand and held it between his fingers like it was the Ebola Virus in Outbreak. He asked, "What the hell are you doing?"

"It's a cigarette…and I'd like to keep it."

"No fucking way. This is Spencer's influence on you, isn't it? He has you smoking now?" Justin ranted. He didn't give me a chance to reply. I noticed his hand curl into a fist and he went on, "I'm going to kill the guy. It's one thing for him to screw up his own lungs, but he needs to keep his cancer sticks away from you. Next thing you know he'll have you trying pot."

I rolled my eyes, snatched the cigarette out of his hands, and said, "Well, dad, we usually save the bong hits for after we've had sex in subway bathrooms…" I watched Justin's face etch with horror and said, "Stop making ridiculous assumptions about Spencer's power over me. Do you really think so little of me that I would start smoking simply because a guy I'm dating smokes? No. I reserve that kind of mind control for my current celebrity obsession."

"Don't try to evade the fact that I caught you with a cigarette with some long rambling, Laney Jane," Justin replied shortly.

I purposefully took a drag from the cigarette and refused to cough, despite the pain in my lungs. I blew out the smoke in his face and said, "Matt Damon gave me the cigarette. I had no intention of smoking the rest of it. I wanted to keep it as a souvenir to remember my utter humiliation by."

Justin folded his arms and stared at me incredulously like I was making up excuses to avoid being spanked. He replied, "Matt Damon?"

"Yeah," I took a sip of my beer because I knew it would piss Justin off. He drank all the time, but he seemed to get quite protective when I did anything remotely adult. He grabbed the drink from my hand like I knew he would and I said, "He gave me the beer too."

"Laney Jane-"

"Well, I was thirsty and someone was supposed to bring me a drink twenty minutes ago."

"Sorry, I got distracted."

I nodded in the direction of the dance floor, "So I noticed."

Justin's face clouded over and I couldn't make out what the hell he was thinking. He seemed angry with me and I had no idea why. In fairness, I should've been angry with him. He ditched me. Justin shrugged and took the seat next to me that Matt had vacated minutes earlier. He pulled at his tie and said, "I'm sorry. I was waiting to get us drinks and…I got sidetracked."

"No biggie. I could've…I made an ass of myself in front of Matt Damon," I moaned into his shoulder.

He laughed, "Damn. I can't believe I missed it."

"He was so cool though, J. Just like I pictured…. He smokes and makes comments and he thinks you're stupid and that blondes are highly overrated. I think he's partial to brunettes…and guess what? I'm a brunette," I babbled out in incoherent bits and pieces.

"How much have you had to drink, Laney Jane?"

"Not enough."

"You talked about me with Matt Damon?" he said with a smug grin.

"Not really. I said that I was ditched for a blonde and he said that was stupid."

"You weren't ditched. I would never ditch you," Justin replied. He pushed a loose piece of my hair back and nodded to the dance floor, "I was just warming up so that we could party. Ya know? Getting the required networking out of the way so that I could be all yours for the rest of the night."

"Sure."

"I was."

"And I said, 'sure'."

Justin jumped up off his stool and pulled me out towards the dance floor. It had gotten more crowded and Justin wrapped his arm around me to pull me closer so we didn't get separated. I could only imagine what everyone thought about the boring girl in the stupid black dress with one of People Magazine's hottest under 21. He smiled and said, "Ready to have some fun? Now that we've got your meeting with destiny out of the way-"

"I don't want to dance. I'll look like an idiot."

"You're a good dancer," Justin whined.

I smirked, "I'm not talking about my ability to dance. I'm talking about being seen with a pop singer." I flipped my hair for effect and added, "I've got a reputation to protect."

Justin scowled and spun me around, "I'm afraid it's too late. Matt Damon is probably telling everyone about your inability to form complete sentences."

I hung my head in shame, "You're probably right."

Justin intertwined his fingers with mine, before dipping me dramatically. He stood me up and spun me around, "So was it everything you dreamed of?"

I shrugged, "I didn't really say anything. I stood there kind of stunned. I couldn't believe he was talking to me. I finally understand what your fans feel like."

"Huh?"

"Matt Damon could have called my mother a whore and I probably would have smiled and nodded my head fervently."

Justin's eyes widened and he replied, "Again…huh?"

"When they meet you and can't say anything…they smile dreamily and you could say anything you wanted. You could stand there and say 'hey you stupid moron, you smell like tuna feces' and they'd go right on smiling-"

Justin started to laugh and then pouted, "Hey, I'll have you know that some of our fans do smell. And it's always the ones that want a hug."

I giggled and shot him a commiserating glance, "Poor baby."

"I still don't understand what girls smelling like-what was it you said? Tuna feces-is that even a real smell or are you feeling especially creative?" Justin pondered aloud. His eyes locked on mine as he danced in closer to me. He asked, "Anyway, what the hell does that have to do with meeting Matt Damon?"

"I think it's quite simple."

Justin danced around me and said, "Laney, nothing with you is ever simple."

I rolled my eyes and replied, "My reaction to Matt Damon was comparable to the one you get from your fans. To those girls you are the ultimate fantasy and because of that, they tend to become mindless dolts. I mean, you aren't exactly my dream guy, but whatever tickles their pickle."

Justin pulled back and asked, "Laney Jane, are you coming on to me?"

I hit him in the stomach and said, "I said you looked good, Justin. I didn't wake up crazy."

"I know what you mean."

Well, I had no idea what he meant. He'd been saying random stuff like that for the past few weeks and I would nod like I had some iota of understanding. I never did though. I looked around the dance floor. It was cluttered with different celebrities. I laughed as Justin started doing the running man. I wasn't really nervous anymore and I couldn't decide if that was because Justin had gotten my mind off my paranoia or if I was still on a Matt Damon high. I preferred to think it was the latter choice because I wasn't about to become the needy best friend.

I heard the music slow down. I turned to walk off, but Justin pulled me against him. I met his eyes and asked, "What are you doing?"

"You have to dance with me, Laney Jane."

"To a slow song?"

"Laney, do you see that girl to your left…no don't look…Jesus, could you be any more obvious?" Justin whined when I turned to stare at the girl. She caught me looking and scowled in my direction. His fingers twisted my face back around and I was immersed in Justin's pleading blue orbs. He whispered, "Last time we danced, she…she molested me."

"Molested?"

"Yes, and I really don't want to deal with that type of pressure tonight. I want to have fun with you. Besides, after tonight, I won't see you for a while. My schedule is insane."

I nodded and took Justin's hand. He started to hum along to the song and I closed my eyes. I tried to pretend this wasn't odd or strange, but I wasn't used to being in such tight proximity to Justin. I wondered if this was like cousins marrying.

"…She's got a way about her…I don't know what it is…but I know that I can't live without her…she's got a way of pleasing…don't know why it is, but there doesn't have to be a reason anyway…"

I smiled, "Ah. They're pulling out the good stuff. You can't go wrong with Billy Joel."

Justin shifted and said, "I wish I could write songs like he does."

"Give it time. He's been at it for years, J."

"Laney, are you complimenting me?"

"Well, I guess. Don't get me wrong. You will never be Billy Joel. He has a tremendous voice and-"

Justin spun me around and pouted, "I've got a great voice." As if he had to prove it to me, he sang along, "…she's got a smile that heals me…I don't know what it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me…she's got a way of talking…don't know why it is, but it lifts me up when we are walking anywhere…"

I opened my eyes and tried to pretend like Justin's vocal abilities were lost on me. He had a voice that could melt the Wicked Witch of the West, but I wasn't about to let him know that. The core foundation of our relationship was mocking and feigned disinterest. I decided to take a different route rather than your typical argument to lighten the mood. I said, "Of course."

"That was too easy. You never admit to something without some sort of fight."

I shrugged and agreed, "Hardly ever."

Justin glared at me, "I won't allow your evil reverse psychology to work on me tonight."

"Who said I was doing such a thing? What's with this sudden paranoia? You do have a nice voice…"

"Right."

"…And I can't speak for anyone else but I've always been personally fond of the rendition of Cher's 'Turn Back Time' that you did during that Halloween party when we were fourteen-"

I watched Justin's face turn bright red. He put his hand over my mouth and whispered, "To the grave. We agreed. To the grave, Laney Jane."

I pushed his hand away and said, "Calm down. It's not like anyone can hear me, Cher."

"For the last time, it was a dare. I wouldn't have chosen that scary costume on my own."

"You're right. The sight of you in a mini-skirt and go-go boots was a bit frightening," I said with a smirk.

"TO THE GRAVE, LANEY," he reiterated. He was so easy to manipulate that sometimes I almost felt bad about it. But really? We were fast approaching a disturbing wishy-washy place moments before and mocking him made the slow dancing seem less…odd.

I replied, "Calm down. No one is paying attention to you, Justin. There are bigger stars here to eavesdrop on."

"Well, I'm not about to risk it. There are reporters walking around and the last thing I need is to wake up to the headlines 'Justin Timberlake's secret life as a Cher drag queen revealed.' I can't believe my mother felt it necessary to videotape that…and then she gave you a copy. What the hell was she thinking?"

"Like you didn't get your revenge. Every chance that you get, you hold that stupid picture with the evil clown over my head."

Justin grinned deviously, "Come on now! That was all in good fun. You can tell you're the youngest in your family…only the baby's parents would get a clown who specialized in mime to entertain at a sweet sixteen. I nearly peed myself when he had your cousins do the Hokey Pokey around you in a circle and kissed you on the cheek." Justin started to laugh, drawing attention to the two of us.

I narrowed my eyes on him and whispered with an air of foreboding, "That clown was mentally scarring. I don't think I'll ever be able to go to the circus again. And don't act so damn smug. I know you pretty well too, Justin."

Justin arched an eyebrow, "Pretty well? Laney Jane, sometimes I swear you know me better than I know myself."

"Probably-and it's quite scary to be on an ESP level with Justin Timberlake."

Justin dipped me again, causing me to momentarily lose all balance control. My head knocked into his chin and we both yelped in pain. I rubbed my head, "That really hurt."

Justin kissed the top of my head and there was a moment of this almost supernatural silence between us. He looked at me for a second before pulling away and saying, "I think you knocked my jaw lose, Laney…I uh…I'm going to see where the other guys are so we can get going. Other parties to see and celebrities for you to torment from afar."

"I haven't tormented any celebrities but you," I replied, still feeling slightly queasy from the bizarre moment that had lapsed.

Justin rolled his eyes and hurried off the dance floor. You would have thought that I showed up at his house in a wedding dress declaring my love or something. His strange behavior was starting to wear off on me and there was no need for it. My mind was settled--he and I needed to have a talk.

Hold up. I feel the need to defend myself for a minute here.

Do you want to know my take on our weird little flash of time on the dance floor?

Don't kiss her. Don't kiss her. Don't kiss her.

I chanted it to myself about a hundred times as Billy Joel sang out…

"…She's got a way about her…I don't know what it is…but I know that I can't live without her…she's got a way of pleasing…don't know why it is, but there doesn't have to be a reason anyway…"

Don't kiss her. Don't kiss her. Don't kiss her.

So I acted aloof and weird and like a big fucking idiot. Okay, so I acted like that the whole evening, but I was dealing with a lot that night, all right? Not only was I trying to come to terms with the fact that Laney Jane had some killer curves and was actually a girl-not any girl, but this beautiful creature with long, thick hair that I wanted to run my fingers through…

Well, there was that. I was also starting to question my feelings for Laney Jane-which wasn't the smartest thing to do on the night of the Oscars. I mean, I was pretty sure I only loved her as a friend, but there was this small part of me that couldn't shake Britney and the guys' accusations on how I love-loved Laney Jane. Was I physically attracted to her? Yes. I couldn't pretend it was a one-time thing anymore like I had in Hawaii. Laney Jane was pretty-not gorgeous like Britney was or the typical model-size goddess-but Travis had been right a few months ago. Laney Jane had a killer smile when her dimples flashed and her brown eyes glistened…

God, listen to me. I sound like a loser or some stalker.

This was what was running through my head from the moment Laney had run her fingers over my collarbone and adjusted my tie before we left. So, you see, by the time we got to the Miramax party, I was about to jump out of my skin. I needed to get my thoughts together and remind myself that this was Laney…the same Melanie Jane that I had watched Monster Squad with, impressing her with my fat-kid imitation. The same best friend who did her "sprinkler" dance or Christopher Walken impersonation when I needed a laugh.

I couldn't be in love with her.

I had gone to get our drinks and was overcome with this deep-rooted fear. I was trying to convince myself of something; I had to prove that I was not becoming overly attached to Laney Jane. I noticed this model that I had a met at some party when I was dating Britney. I was determined to show everyone else that they were wrong about Laney and me. I was going to charm the pretty blonde smiling flirtatiously in my direction and maybe…just maybe things would go back to normal.

And things were starting to get back to normal. The model was telling me some story about one of the actors we saw hanging out in the corner and I was winning her over with my knowledge of photographers. We were dancing and having a good time. Her hand was on my butt and I could've gone off into a corner with her and spent the next twenty minutes lip-locked with a German beauty.

Then I saw Matt Damon sitting next to Laney and the look of sheer pleasure on her face. It started to drive me insane. I tried to pay attention to my new friend, but my eyes would shift over to Laney Jane. I needed to know what they were talking about and how he had managed to make her smile like that. I knew that he was probably saying something like, "Is this seat taken?' and that's all, but another part of me was caught up in their plans to run away together and him propositioning my date and her accepting. I knew how much she loved stupid Matt Damon and I was completely annoyed by his presence at this party.

All rational thought and reason were abandoned and I had to get over there. I mumbled a quick goodbye to the model and made my way through the crowd towards Laney. The whole time I told myself to get a grip. It wasn't like Laney was my property or even my girlfriend. And it wasn't like Matt Damon was a problem-not like Spencer.

I wasn't sure how Spencer had popped into my head, but it wasn't a pretty image. It was like when you heard a song that you hated on the radio-for the rest of the day, you're humming the melody to Mambo Number Five no matter how much you try to ignore it. Spencer was like that stupid fucking song. I really didn't like thinking about him at all and wished I could pretend like he didn't exist.

My insides started to rip apart at the seams and I couldn't figure out where these emotions had come from without any warning. It was scary and confusing as all hell. How had this happened to me? Sure, I used to joke that I was going to marry Laney Jane, but I hit fifteen, started to date, and quickly realized that my friendship was more important than any passing flirtation with a pretty girl.

Out of the blue, in one night with Laney dressed up and talking to the man of her dreams, I was suddenly behaving like a jealous boyfriend and resisting the urge to grab Laney, pull her behind me, and shout, "Mine" at the top of my lungs.

So now you understand, I had to get off that dance floor. I knew Laney had dragged me into a play argument because of the awkwardness between us. I was staring at her and she was smiling at me…and all I wanted to do was kiss her.

But I wasn't going to do that. It was a momentary spurt of jealousy. It would pass. I was on the rebound from a painful breakup and I wasn't used to seeing Laney looking so much like a girl. That was all it was. If I had been my impulsive self and kissed her, everything would have gotten messed up.

I had to run. I had to get away from Laney Jane.

I strained my eyes for signs of any of the other guys, especially hoping to find Chris. Chris would help me. Chris would know what I had to do. I finally found JC and practically knocked him down, "Have you seen Chris?"

"He's here somewhere. Where's Laney?"

I shrugged and yelled over the music, "I have to find Chris."

I started to walk off but JC grabbed my arm. He questioned, "Are you okay, J?"

I looked at him and said, "I want to get out of here."

"Oh," JC glanced at his girlfriend and I resisted the urge to scream and blame him for doing this to me. It was all my stupid friends' fault-and of course, Britney's as well. JC added, "Hitting the other parties?"

"I'm kinda tired," I lied. I wasn't about to admit that if I had to spend the rest of the evening with Laney Jane alone, I wouldn't be able to control myself. I kept yelling at myself, Think buddy. Think buddy. Don't kiss her. Think buddy. Don't kiss her. Think buddy!

It wasn't working as well as I thought it should.

"Well, if you want to leave, Lance's date seems to have hooked up with a friend from high school. He appears to be flying solo."

"What? What kind of girl comes with him to a party and then goes off with someone else?" I asked. I immediately felt guilty because if it weren't for Matt Damon I probably would have done the same thing to Laney Jane.

JC shrugged, "He doesn't seem too upset about it." JC hollered into my ear, "But Laney and he have hung out before. That way she doesn't have to get out of here."

That wasn't a bad idea. It wasn't Laney Jane's fault that I was having a nervous breakdown and I wanted her to have fun. Plus, I trusted Lance. I knew Lance wouldn't try anything with her. Not that I cared. If she wanted to hook up with some guy, it wouldn't bother me any. I smiled weakly and said, "You're a genius, JC."

"I'm going to remind you of that once rehearsals start and you tell me I can't come up with a good idea if my life depended on it."

"Whatever man. Do you know where Lance is?"

JC pointed to the bar. I made my way over and tapped Lance on the shoulder. He looked up and me and said, "Hey."

"I heard about Megan. Sorry man."

"She's a friend, Justin. Her ex-boyfriend is here and they're talking again. Further proof that I will never get a girlfriend."

I chuckled and said, "How about I lend you my date?"

"Does this have to do with that blonde I saw you dancing with?"

"No. I just…no. I'm tired. The craziness of the past few weeks is catching up with me and I really don't want to stay…but Laney won't-this is a special thing for her and I want her to have fun."

Lance hopped up from his stool and said, "Suit yourself."

We made our way across the place. I saw some random guy talking animatedly with Laney and she had a look of complete boredom on her face. She caught me watching and motioned for help with her eyes. I patted Lance on the back and said, "It's all you, man."

"Aren't you going to tell her you're leaving?"

"Nah. She'll figure it out," I replied like I hadn't even considered it. I knew that if I got anywhere near Laney Jane, I wouldn't go anywhere. That was not good. I needed to wait to talk to her until tomorrow morning before she left. She would be back to her normal self-dressed in jeans and tee-shirts that revealed nothing like her great legs-and I would have gotten a good night's sleep.

I started to walk away and called to Lance, "Don't let her get drunk, Lance. She can't hold her liquor and she has to fly cross-country tomorrow night."

"Uh-huh."

I turned to go and then stopped again, "Oh, and make sure no more of her favorite actors offer her cigarettes."

"Anything else?"

"Just…take care of her. If she says anything bad happened while I wasn't here, I'm going to hold you personally responsible," I replied with a serious expression.

"Okay. Got it. Ten to one you're probably scarier than her dad is to potential boyfriends."

My eyes widened and I snapped, "You are NOT a potential boyfriend. Do you hear me?"

"Don't worry, Justin. You'd have to wait in line to kill me if I put the moves on Laney," Lance commented.

I pretended not to hear anything he said. I waved and hurried towards the main entrance. I found Todd sitting in the corner talking to other bodyguards. Laney had once asked me if security was a unionized career and I had rolled my eyes. I didn't really care, but at that moment I did wonder if there was some sort of bodyguard bond.

"Where's your pretty partner?" Todd asked.

"She's staying with Lance. I want to head back to the hotel."

"Oh thank god. For once, you're actually doing something for me."

I rolled my eyes, "Let's go."

Todd and I rode most of the way in silence. I wished he would yell at me about something. I needed a distraction from my head. I wanted to stop thinking about everything. It was like all those movies dealing with near-death experiences. Supposedly, your whole life flashed before your eyes before you died-well, that entire limousine ride to the hotel, my entire relationship with Laney played out in my head, from our initial meeting to her sticking up for me on the playground to seeing her and Spencer kiss.

Why was this happening to me?

We got in the elevator and I rubbed my eyes-dealing with this Laney shit was physically draining. I yawned as Todd stepped out on to our floor. He looked around and said, "I guess most of the fans think you guys are still out partying."

"Good. It gives me a chance for undisturbed…" my voice trailed off when I saw him at the end of the hall. Great. This was what I needed.

Todd put his hands on my shoulder to guide me aside and I shrugged him off. I said, "Don't worry, Todd. He's our new liaison from Jive." I took a deep breath and called out, "Hey Spencer."

Spencer dropped his bag and turned. He waved down the hall like we were old buddies and I had to resist the urge to have Todd kick him off the floor-as a joke of course. I walked towards him and I saw his access pass hanging from his neck. I smiled, "Britney mentioned you got transferred to the Nsync camp. Welcome aboard."

"You two talked? That's great."

"I guess," I said, watching as Todd pulled a chair out of one of the rooms and set it up in the hall. I pointed in Todd's direction and added, "That's Toddy. He's my main protection. You'll want to meet with Eric at some point tomorrow. He's head of our security and he'll make sure everyone is aware of your presence."

"Thanks. I know how it works. So where's Laney?"

He didn't waste any time did he? I yawned, "She stayed at the parties with Lance. She was having a lot of fun with Matt Damon."

Spencer chuckled. He didn't seem at all worried that he could be replaced. He opened his door and said, "Did she remember how to breathe afterwards? I know that she's attached to the guy. I think the only reason she agreed to date me is because I'm from Boston."

Where had this guy come from? Didn't he know what I was doing? I was purposefully trying to bait him into a jealous-induced rage and he didn't even have the decency to act bothered. Instead he was joking about why Laney was dating him. Honestly, I had to bite my tongue to keep from admitting that I wondered why my best friend would date such a dork too. I replied, "Yeah."

"Was she a big New Kids fan too?"

I chuckled as I thought about Laney's old Donnie pillowcase and answered, "Donnie Wahlberg. It was all about Donnie…and she's still attached. I think we're like two of the only people who've seen the movie Southie and there is a reason she owns Sixth Sense that has nothing to do with Bruce Willis or the cute little kid."

"Ahh…that information could make for a good coercion tactic if I ever need it. Thanks man," Spencer replied.

I nodded down the hall, "Well, I'm gonna get some sleep. We leave for Japan tomorrow night."

"Hey Justin?"

I turned and waited for him to continue. Spencer went on, "Which one is Laney's room?"

My eyes narrowed on him and I think he could tell that I wasn't too happy with his question. Spencer added, "…I want to call and leave a message so she knows I'm here. I'd like to see her before she leaves in the morning."

I walked towards my room and patted my hand on a door across the hall. I called out, "She's in here. She probably won't be back 'til late and she's not big on surprises."

Spencer nodded, "Okay thanks. I was planning to crash anyway. I'm still on German time, but I wanted to try and see her. You know how it is. Relationships fall to the wayside because of work. It gets tough."

Relationship? Was he calling his like five dates with Laney a relationship? I forced an overly cheery smile and replied, "Laney Jane doesn't care about that stuff. Night."

Spencer nodded as he picked up his bag and said, "I'll see you in the morning."

I closed my door and smiled. I knew I should feel terrible, but I didn't. And Spencer was going to be spending a lot of time with us…nothing wrong with helping him get acquainted with Joey first thing in the morning. It was a little bit of harmless fun…and it wasn't like I'd hide Laney from him for the rest of the day.

I lost the suit and slid under the covers of my bed. It took forever to fall asleep. I kept shutting my eyes, praying it would work and then glancing at the clock on the nightstand. That went on for what felt like hours, but when I finally did fall asleep, it was worth it.

I was completely calm and relaxed. I was on the beach and could practically taste the salt in the water. In the distance there was the silhouette of a beautiful girl in a white dress and her hair was flowing in the wind. I ran to catch up with her and I knew it was the girl from the other dreams. It was my perfect girl.

She turned around towards me and smiled as my arms went around her, but I couldn't make out her face. It was all blurry. She said something to me and my eyes jolted open when someone was pounding on my door. I heard my friends' inebriated laughs and tried to ignore it. I wanted to go back to sleep and spend some quality time with the perfect girl.

I threw one of the extra pillows over my face when the knocking got louder. I glanced at the clock reading three a.m. and moaned, "Go away."

"C'mon Cher…open up!" Laney's voice echoed through the door. She giggled and I could barely make out Lance's voice responding to her comment.

I flicked on the light, rubbed my eyes, and muttered under my breath. I threw on a shirt and tugged on the drawstring of my sweatpants. I opened the door and locked eyes with Lance who was fumbling with his door key. Laney smiled at me and said, "Hey there, party pooper!"

I eyed her over skeptically, "Hello."

"I have a secret to tell you," Laney said, leaning in close to me. When I didn't say anything, she took my hand and added, "I like the nightlife. I like to boogie. On the disco round." She danced under my arm and said, "Look. I'm doing the limbo under my tall friend's arm."

"Right…okaaay," I said, trying to remain calm. I wasn't going to laugh and I wasn't going to get upset even though I had specifically told Lance not to give the girl anything to drink. What was so hard to understand about "don't give her anything to drink"? Was I speaking Chinese? I led her out into the hall and asked, "How much did you have to drink?"

Laney shrugged and spun around to talk to Lance. She lost her balance and fell into Lance. The two hit the floor, stared at each blankly for a few minutes, and burst out laughing. Lance nudged her in the shoulder and said, "I think we're on the floor."

Laney laughed, "I KNOW! The floor." She pointed up at me and said, "The bore is not on the floor."

Lance patted her arm, "That rhymed."

I did not find this amusing at all. I stood Laney up on her feet and she fell into my chest. She pushed away and said, "I'm mad at you."

I rolled my eyes and kicked at Lance who was still on the ground. I replied, "Well, I'm going to kill Lance. I'm going to ask one more time. How much did you give her to drink?"

"I didn't give her anything to drink."

I glared at him in disbelief and asked, "So she's not drunk? What is this then?"

Laney hit me in the stomach and while I tried to pretend like it didn't hurt, she giggled, "Yer momma's a drunk."

"What the hell is wrong with the two of you?  You're like children."

"We're not children.  We're drunk," Lance said with a chuckle. He pointed at Laney and added, "But I didn't give her anything to drink."

"That's right. He didn't. It was Matt Damon, my favorite person in whole wide world," she said, holding her arms out. She nearly tripped and fell back down. She pulled her shoes off and flung them down the floor, "I hate those shoes. And I hate this dress. Stupid dress. I hate dresses!"

"Matt Damon gave you alcohol?" I looked at Laney who was still pulling at her dress. I smacked at her hands and said, "Laney Jane, do not even think about removing that dress. That is a little bit more of you than I ever planned to see."

She sighed dramatically and said, "Fine."

"Exactly how much did he give you guys?"

Lance held up his hands as a response and then guessed, "We lost count after awhile. Matt Damon is like Laney's buddy now. She and I were doing the Time Warp when Casey Affleck comes over to Laney and says that Matt wanted to know if the beer helped. It was great. So we all start talking-

Laney cut Lance off and jumped up and down excitedly, "He is so cool, Justin. He told me that I was funny. I am funny. Do you believe it? When people tell me to lighten up or stop being so damn practical, I can point at them and say, 'I am funny. Matt Damon told me so.' Isn't it cool?"

"Hardly."

Lance took over when Laney scowled at me, "None of us were having much fun at the party and they were getting ready to leave. Well, he and his friends invited us to this bar up in the hills-"

I folded my arms and kicked at Lance again, "A bar?"

"Yes, it's a place that severs…I mean, serves," Laney stopped like she wasn't sure what she was saying. If I weren't pissed off, I probably would have laughed at the expression on her face and filed it away to tease her about. She pushed her hair back and said, "…serves alcohol. Matt Damon bought me five martinis. Olives are gross though."

"FIVE?" I shouted.

Lance laughed, "Yeah, dude, I think she's got a role in Matt and Ben's new movie when they finish writing it. They kept pointing at her and saying 'that's what I'm talking about' and they were discussing how Hemingway would have been much funnier if he did heroin or something…I'm not sure I remember…" Lance's voice trailed off and his eyes started to shut.

Laney laughed and waved her hands in Lance's direction, "I dared Lance to get up and do the Macarena on the bar counter. And he did!"

"Oh my god."

"That's okay. I dared Laney to do a bodyshot…"

"I'm going to fucking kill you Lance-"

"You look mad," Laney said in a singsong voice.

I raised my eyebrows and wrapped my arm around her waist to keep her steady. I replied, "What would give you that idea, Laney Jane? I ask Lance to show you a good time…"

"And he did. He is so the money, baby."

Lance's eyes fluttered open, "This is for superfan 99 over there."

The two of them started to laugh hysterically like they were in a room with comedians. Laney sighed, "At least someone cares enough to spend time with me, so in my book, you rock, Lance."

"You're fun to hang out with Laney. Even when you started to talk in Latin and the only person to understand was Matt Damon-"

"He watches West Wing too. That's why. I was just quoting President Bartlett."

Lance nodded and replied, "Next time Justin gets moody, we'll go out again."

I pulled Laney closer to my chest and kicked Lance for a third time, "You really think I'm ever leaving you alone with her again? Not going to happen!"

Laney blew her hair out of her face and stared up at me with these big, brown eyes. It made me feel even more protective. I tightened my grip and she laughed into my chest. The protective feeling passed pretty quickly and was replaced with more anger. I had about all I could handle of Laney, the giggly nitwit. I threw her over my shoulder. She flapped her hands in some sort of wave to Lance and whispered in my ear, "I don't know why you're mad."

"Because you're fucking sauced."

"Who do you think said something like that first? I'm sauced. Did they get SO drunk that they spilt some sort of liquid goo on them and their equally drunk friend said, 'dude, you're sauced.' I wonder-"

I yelled, "Say goodnight Laney."

Of course, she did. She waved to Lance, "Goodnight Laney!"

"Even drunk you're a smart ass," I muttered as I carried her the ten feet to her door. I barked out, "Laney, give me your damn key."

"It was a question. I mean think about it. Where do sayings like that come from," she moaned as I snatched her purse and pulled out her key.

"I don't really care," I said coolly. I opened the door and dropped her on her bed. I went into the mini-bar and pulled out a coke and a bottle of water. I held the Coke up for her and she tried to push it away from her face. I yelled, "Don't make me force feed you. Drink it."

Laney rolled her eyes, "Don't act all infuriated with me because I had fun. That's what you told Lance to do right? To baby-sit me and make sure I had fun?"

"Since when do you need to drink to have fun? You're the same girl that gets whacked out on pixie sticks," I replied, scratching my hands on my wifebeater. I looked at her and said, "Don't worry about changing or showering tonight. Sleep this off."

"Thanks dad. I appreciate your concern. You're a real downer, Justin. I'm gonna call you downer frowner…or frowner downer…Justin, the frowner downer. That's you!" She said, putting her soda down after a few sips.

I walked over and held the soda up to her mouth, "Once you finish this, you're drinking a water so you don't dehydrate yourself. Fuck Laney…five martinis? You can't even hold a beer!"

"So?"

"So why would you do that?"

"Stop acting all parental. You drive me crazy with it! Lots of girls my age get drunk occasionally. I'm not sneaking beers from dad's cooler and drinking them in the garage or anything," Laney fell back on her bed and added, "And you don't get to be mad at me. I'm mad at you."

"Oh really?"

"You could have told me you were leaving."

"You would've insisted on leaving with me when you really didn't want to go."

"How do you know I didn't want to leave? You didn't even ask. You always assume to know exactly what I want. Well, you don't."

I looked away guiltily. She did have a right to be mad at me, but I wasn't going to admit that, especially after this little spectacle. I sighed, "I do know you, dork. I know that you like to be in control of your emotions-you get upset if someone sees you cry for chrissakes. You're going to regret drinking and getting this out of control. I know you will."

She scowled, "So? What does that have to do with you abandoning me?"

"I didn't abandon-Laney Jane, now is not the time to argue about this-"

She cut me off, "The only reason I went to the stupid Oscars was because of you. I was there for you and you ditch me at a party full of celebrities when you knew I felt out of place. You're a jerk and a jackass and I'm not sure I'll ever forgive you."

Some people were mean drunks. Others were silly…Laney was dramatic.

I rolled my eyes, "You'll forgive me because you probably won't even remember this tomorrow."

"Nope," she pushed me away when I tried to hand her a glass of water. She tugged on her dress, why I wasn't sure, and said, "I've decided that Matt Damon will be my celebrity friend. He was cool. And he likes the same movies I do. He's not a girl. He doesn't force me to endure Runaway Bride or Down to You…it's way past time to end this friendship. I should have done it long ago."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah, but you make me laugh…and you bought me Heathers when I was sick in high school…"

"What?"

"Despite your busy schedule, you heard that I ended up in the hospital with stupid tonsillitis and you bought me Heathers and Ferris Bueller's Day Off and came to visit me and we watched movies.  You even made the comments I would because you knew I couldn't talk…" Laney closed her eyes and rolled over. She waved her hand in the air, practically hitting me in the face, "But that's over. You ditched me. You're dumped."

I sat on the bed, running my hands over my face to try to conceal a grin, and said, "You remembered that? God, I forgot about it."

"That's because you have the brain of an amoeba," Laney snapped. She sat up and extended her hand to shake and said, "It's been a fun friendship. Have a nice life."

"Shut up, Laney Jane. You're stuck with me. We're Velcro."

"That's a sucky analogy. But that's not surprising coming from you."

"I'm sorry, okay?" I groaned and handed her the glass of water. I watched her take a few sips and added, "Trust me. You don't want to dehydrate Laney Jane. It's not a pretty thing, especially when you fly."

"Speaking from experience?"

"You know I am."

"Yeah. We need to discuss this mentality you have. What's good for the goose is good for the gander, got it?"

I shook my head, "Whatever."

"Because you get drunk all the time…and you have girlfriends that I didn't like, but I tolerated them all the same…And you dated some real winners, Justin…and you always expect me to understand your plights, but god forbid you hear me out about your celebrity status and how I want nothing to do with it. You don't care."

"Laney, I'm not going to talk about this now," I replied. I stared at her, resisting the urge to push the straggling hairs out of her face. I couldn't touch her. I couldn't allow myself to touch her because I wasn't sure what I would do next.

She huffed and folded her arms, "Yeah, let's pretend like everything is okay, like you always do."

I felt like Britney was channeling her anger through Laney and I immediately felt on the spot. I snapped, "I don't pretend anything. You're the one who likes to act like I'm only your friend when it suits your mood."

"At least I don't beg my friend to accompany somewhere I know she'd feel uncomfortable and then ditch her for the first pretty blonde that makes a pass at him!"

"I didn't ditch you for a pretty blonde. I came back here to get some sleep."

"Then why couldn't you tell me that? The past eight years I can't get you to shut up about anything and suddenly you can't say goodbye? Well, forget you."

"Goodnight Laney," I said, standing up and walking towards the door. I took in the sight of her and despite the messed up hair, the dress that was completely wrinkled, and the mean scowl on her face, she was beautiful. I coughed and replied quickly, "Drink more water, while I go kill Lance."

I shut the door. I didn't give her a chance to respond. I didn't want to have an argument with her. I knew she had a right to be mad. In her eyes, I did ditch her. But she didn't understand that I had no choice. If I hadn't gotten out of there, I might have confessed things to her that I didn't get myself yet.

I made my way back to my room and reached into my sweatpants for my key. I banged my head on my door, "Fuck!" I turned back around and knocked on Laney's door. When she didn't answer right away, I knocked again and called out, "Laney Jane, open the door!"

I heard her moan, "Go away, Justin. My head hurts."

I knocked louder hollered, "Open the door Laney before I tell everyone about your love of clowns!"

I heard footsteps and she practically ripped the door off its hinges as she opened it. She glared at me and put her hands on her hips, "What?"

"I locked myself out."

"Too bad," she said, starting to close the door in my face.

I put my hand out and walked past her. I pulled at our adjoining door, but it was locked. I growled, "This is great."

"Go down to the desk. They have extra keys."

"I can't go down there. Todd is already asleep and he'll kill me if I wake him up. And I can't exactly walk around in the open by myself."

"Great! Are you telling me we're roommates again?"

I scowled, "No. I can't-it would be-you're drunk and-"

Laney started to laugh, "Are you worried that I'm going to try to take advantage of you?"

I chuckled at the thought and commented, "Well, you'll never call or write. You won't even remember it. I'll be a cheap piece of meat to you."

"Okay, stop now. It's weird." Laney fell on the bed and sighed, "Sorry about earlier. You're still my friend. I mean, if I stood by you through your whole Puff Justy phase, then I'll put up with the moody, closed-off, ignorant ass for awhile."

I smiled, "Wow Laney. I might cry."

She fisted a handful of my wifebeater and said, "For…a…while, got it?"

I removed her hand from my clothes and laid down on the bed next to her. I said, "I got it, Laney Jane. I got it."

She didn't bother to try to change and I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost as soon as she turned out the light. The last thing I heard was her complaining about my cold feet. I immediately found myself back in the dream, but no matter what I did, I couldn't see the girl's face. I would sing, I would dance, I would tell myself to stare right at her, but it didn't work. I couldn't make out her stupid face, but I wasn't really frustrated. Through it all I was calm and content.

She was laughing as she ran off through this wooded area and I stopped dead in my tracks. My eyes opened and I turned to look at Laney.  My hands were way too close to her side of the body and it would have been so easy to hug her and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. But it was Laney, my buddy, and I was freaking out over nothing. So I was jealous of Matt Damon? That was normal. There were probably plenty of guys jealous of Matt Damon. Hell, I knew there were plenty of guys jealous of me for no good reason. I jumped out of the bed and locked myself in her bathroom. I splashed some water on my face and turned to the mirror, "It's a dream. It doesn't mean anything."

I stared at myself a bit longer. It was my imagination. The perfect girl wasn't really Laney Jane. It was the Oscars having a delayed affect on me. Or I was being overly dramatic like Laney often accused me of being. She was usually right about me. She knew me better than…

I patted my face dry and wandered out of the bathroom. My eyes settled on Laney. The more I thought about it, the more worried I got. Perfect girl had the same hair as Laney-the long brown strands that felt so smooth between your fingertips. I forced my eyes shut and tried to catch my breath. If I didn't watch it, I was going to hyperventilate and then Laney would wake up and I might have to explain what the hell was going on. Honestly, I didn't think the first thing she needed to hear in what was sure to be an excruciating hangover was "Well, Laney Jane, you are my dream girl."

Stop it! It's Laney. It's Laney. Think about something else. Think about gasoline. Did I fill up my gas tank before I left?

My eyes moved back towards Laney anyway. This wasn't good. Why was this happening to me? Was I going crazy? Were exaggerated feelings for your best friend one of the symptoms of schizophrenia? I glanced at the clock. Six a.m. I didn't have to stay here any longer. I couldn't stay there any longer. I needed to get away and get a grip. But I knew it wouldn't happen. That dream…that dream…it had to be…it was so nice. It felt so right. And it had started long before the Oscars.

It had to be a mistake.

I snuck out the door and knocked on his door. He was one of the few people besides Laney that I trusted to hear me out and snap some sense into me. I wanted him to tell me to stop reading so much into things and to not even think about Laney Jane in a way that could jeopardize our friendship, but as I waited impatiently for him to answer his door, I was hit with a scary realization.

I knocked again and said, "Wake up, Chris."

Chris rubbed his eyes and glared at me, "Tell me someone is dead, or you will be."

"How long have you known I'm in love with Laney?" I asked.

Chris smiled and pulled me into his room, "Sit down, J. We need to have a long talk about women."

"Oh god," I moaned as the door shut behind us.

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Chapter Fourteen (I'm skipping thirteen because it's an evil number--so technically fourteen is thirteen...)

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