Chapter Eighteen

While Laney Jane was spending her hours plotting out what sounded like a very unpleasant demise for me, I had become a new man, or a revived one with a positive outlook on things.

Oh brother. I need to stop him before he makes some inane comment like "Confucius says…"

Would you stop interrupting me? Just once let me finish a sentence without cutting me off.

Fine. I won't interrupt you anymore.

Ha!

I won't.

Good.

Embarrass yourself and say ridiculous things like, "I felt like I was born again." I can't help you.

I didn't say that.

Close enough. But go ahead. Look lamer than you already do.

Are you done now?

I said go ahead. What are you deaf?

In case you're all wondering, I'm rolling my eyes and I'm this close to making an obscene gesture in Laney's general direction. But what can I say? I love Laney Jane even when she mocks me, interrupts me, and calls me lame.

So where was I? Right…Remnants of my normal self were starting to resurface (things Laney refers to as cocky and arrogant, but I prefer to think of as a healthy case of self-confidence) and I knew that I was everything Laney was looking for in a guy. I was her Lloyd Dobbler and she was my Diane Cort. She would be mine. If she wasn't my girlfriend by the end of this tour, it wasn't meant to be and I would kill myself in some over-the-top fashion on stage for all my fans to witness who would hold Laney Jane personally responsible for it.

But she wasn't going to turn me down.

Okay, I wasn't complete stupid. She was going to turn me down a few more times. I knew the way her mind worked. She would freak out, yell, and tell me to drop dead while she denied any not-so-buddylike feelings she had for me. It was my job to wear her down. I needed to make it abundantly clear that she was the girl for me and that would never change-no matter how much distance she tried to put between us or how many beautiful blondes chose me to be their husband.

I could do it. I was going to fucking do it! Laney, your heart would be mine. We would live happily ever after and, by God, I would get another kiss from those full raspberry-flavored lips of yours.

That was if I survived the car ride from WEG with Lance Andretti at the wheel.

My hands tightened on my seatbelt and I hollered, "Lance, stop messing with the radio and pay attention to the road!" I closed my eyes trying to wish away the ten-wheeler barreling right for us and said, "Lance! TRUCK!"

Lance switched lanes and glared at me, "You're the worst backseat driver I've ever encountered."

"You're the worst driver I've ever encountered…and you're forgetting that I ride along with Laney Jane who uses the go with god mentality while driving," I replied.

Lance gave me this isn't-he-precious-look and asked, "Does everything remind you of Laney?"

I rolled my eyes and clutched my seatbelt again. I snapped, "Just your driving."

"So is this a smart idea? As I recall, you aren't her favorite person."

I shrugged, "If you're referring to Dana, then no, I'm not her favorite person. But even Spencer knew one thing about Laney-you want a chance at a relationship with her, you need to get through Dana, not to mention Stephanie-The-Mouth. But Steph will be easy to handle…" Lance glanced at me and I yelled, "Eyes on the road, Lance."

Lance mumbled under his breath and then asked, "How do you plan to handle Steph?"

I grinned deviously at Lance and said, "I had an idea…"

Lance noticed my smile out of the corner of his eye. He came to a stop at a red light and turned to face me. His forehead crinkled like my little brother's when he was concentrating on drawing and repeated his question, "How do you plan to handle Steph?"

"I don't."

Lance stared at me skeptically and awaited the other ball to drop. He replied, "Then why-"

"You're going to handle Steph for me."

"Like hell I am."

"Lance, please? I'm already going to have my hands full with Dana and Laney. For me to handle Steph…it would drive me crazy. Do you want me to go crazy? Do you want Spencer to end up with my Laney Jane?" I paused, making my eyes plead with him. Lance and Joey were always the suckers of our group; even the fans knew it. I didn't wait for a response. I continued, "And you owe me, Lance. I've forgiven you for getting Laney Jane drunk when I expressly told you not to---"

Lance rested his chin on his steering wheel and moaned, "Not this fucking conversation again."

I smiled sheepishly, "Well, you did."

He stopped for another light and turned to face me. Lance's face was reflecting the flashing lights from the gas station as he growled, the white off his teeth shining with blue and red, and said, "Laney's an adult. She was quite capable of declining a martini on her own, but she didn't. Why? Because she's a grown-up and decided to have some fun. She was probably rebelling against her best friend's smothering protective side."

I scowled, "You still got her drunk."

"I'm gonna get your mom drunk if you don't watch it."

I threw my hands up in the air, "Why did you have to go and bring my momma into this conversation?" I glanced out the window. College students were gassing up their vehicles, two girls wearing Mickey ears and a guy shouting to them about seeing them next semester. The students were lost in laughter and I felt a twinge of sadness that I would never experience that. Luckily before I could get too caught up in my tragic existence as a lonely nineteen-year-old, the light changed and Lance sped off along the more isolated side streets of neighborhoods.

It wasn't that often that I wished I were different. I mean I would give anything to be able to go hang out at the beach with friends, but the perks to my life usually outweighed the rest. Not many nineteen-year-olds knew Janet Jackson, owned their own homes (note the plural), or could fly to the Bahamas on a free weekend. My life wasn't that bad…in fact, once Laney kissed me again, my life would be perfect.

Which brought me back to the situation at hand. Lance was trying to avoid the topic. He knew he was the pushover in Nsync and for some reason he was fighting it. I wasn't beneath begging, but I hoped it didn't come to that. I couldn't read Lance's face and he was quiet as we drove down the road. I said, "Lance, I need you to take care of Stephanie for me."

"Take care of as in Jimmy Hoffa, cement shoes, and swimming with the fishes?"

"No, as in dinner and good conversation," I said with a worried frown. I shook my head, "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"You're the one who said 'take care of'. I was inquiring as to what that encompassed exactly."

"Lance, sometimes you're a real weird guy, ya know that?" I replied. I winced as Lance squealed his tires and made a left turn. I went on, "Lance, please! One dinner with Steph. You hung out with her while we were in DC…"

"Yeah, but-"

"And I would do it for you," I complained. I looked at him and repeated, "I'll be your best friend."

"Won't Steph be suspicious if I invite her to dinner?"

"Probably, but that's okay. You're telling her what's up. Do what you have to do to get her to help me. Whatever it takes."

"Whatever it takes? You're on your own for whatever it takes, J. I'll have dinner with her. I'll make nice and ten-to-one she already knows that you're in love with Laney."

I shrugged, "It won't matter. Steph loves you."

"All the girls love me. They're starting to realize that I'm aging well while all those dye jobs on your hair are going to leave you bald and fat."

"I'm not going to be bald…and I definitely won't be fat," I whined.

Lance cackled evilly like he was the villain in some black-and-white horror movie and replied, "That metabolism can't hold out forever, Justin."

"Whatever. Will you do this?"

Lance sighed, "Fine. I'm going to remember this when some director agrees to make one of my movies on the condition that her twelve year old niece gets to meet Justin Timberlake."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine."

Lance smiled at me, "Now how are you going to handle Dana?"

That was a good question--one that I had been silently pondering when I wasn't praying for my life in Lance's 4-Runner. The way I saw it there were a few different approaches I could take with Dana.

Scenario One: I walk up the path to the house. Dana spots me out a window and opens the door. She runs towards me and meets me on the front path.

Me- (coolly) Hi Dana. I need your help.

Dana- (Excitedly-she hugs me in excited emphasis) Justin, it's so good to see you. I heard that you professed your undying devotion to my sister. You're so cool!

Me- I know. Anyway, about that help-

Dana- We'll get you Laney and then one day you could be my brother-in-law and we…

No, no, no. Excited Dana was making me dizzy.

Scenario Two: I walk up the path to the house. I'm self-confident as I knock on the door and lean against the frame waiting with a candy cigarette dangling from my mouth (Think James Dean or Marlon Brando before he got fat). Dana opens the door and lets me in.

Dana- (sternly) Hello Justin.

Me- (smiling brightly like my charming self) Hi Dana. That shirt really brings out the color in your eyes.

Dana- (wavers slightly in sternness and plays with the collar of her shirt) Really?

Me- definitely…you're really pretty. The same way that Laney is really pretty. And I love Laney and need your help.

Dana- (falls complete under my irresistible spell) Wow, Justin. Of course I'll help you. Any girl would be lucky to have you for a boyfriend. You're sweet, intellectually endowed, physically attractive…

EW, I might puke. Enchanted Dana was giving me the creeps.

"Justin?" Lance asked.

I pulled the top of my nail off with my teeth and spit it out the window. I focused on the jagged edge on the tip of my finger and answered, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay? Dana can't be that bad."

I chuckled, "She thinks my lifestyle is bad for Laney Jane. That makes her bad in a situation like this."

"So why are you doing this?"

"Because I need Dana on my side. I know she's all yay-Spencer, and I have to somehow convince her that Laney belongs with me. If I can do that, I actually have a chance at this."

Lance nodded, but I wasn't sure he got it. After all, Dana was just Laney's sister, but Laney looked up to her and Dana did have honest concerns about the world I spent a lot of my time in. If Dana could see that none of that mattered and would help me, Laney's reasoning for keeping Spencer-that everyone loved him and he was logical-would be gone. And that would be very good for me…like HA, in your face, Spencer!

I glanced at Lance and said hopefully, "If all else fails, I throw myself at her mercy. Maybe the black eye will get me some pity." I knew I was what Dana referred to as a pest for as long as I can remember, but I also knew she wanted what was best for her sister.

Again, I feel the need to point out that I was what was best for her sister.

Lance managed to get us to Laney's house in one piece and I stared up at the house for a long time. It was strange. I had spent a lot of time around that house in the past eight years but my nerves suddenly felt like I was walking into a new atmosphere-a Hollywood party for the first time or back on the stage for the Oscars in front of Tom Cruise and Anthony Hopkins. My heart was pounding, adrenaline was rushing through my veins like I was some sort of game hunter on an African Safari, and my eyes were wandering over every detail of the property like I had never been there before.

"It helps if you get out of the car and ring the doorbell."

I twisted my hands together before summoning the courage to remove my seatbelt. I looked at Lance, "Come on."

"What?"

I glared at him, "Moral support."

Lance grumbled under his breath before removing his seatbelt and opening the door. I followed his lead and hopped out of the car. I made my way up the path to the door and smiled at the sight of the familiar Garfield welcome mat that Laney's mother would say "isn't it darling?" about every time you saw her. I rang the doorbell and glanced back to Lance who was hovering by the bushes like some first-time cat burglar.

Dana opened the door and her eyes wandered from me to Lance and she commented, "Well, well. If it isn't the shunned best friend and the new boyfriend."

"Hi Dana," I began trying to keep from stuttering. I pointed to Lance and said, "You remember Lance?"

She nodded, "You both realize that Laney doesn't get home for almost two weeks, right?"

"We're here to see you," I said.

"Why?"

Leave it to Dana to cut right to the point. I decided to avoid my plea for help a bit longer and asked, "How are your parents? I wish I could've seen them while they were in New York, but I was-"

"Being an ass and abandoning my sister for beautiful blonde bimbos?"

Lance chuckled and I shot him a dirty look before replying, "Yeah, that."

"My parents are in Miami for the week…so if you're here to flatter the folks and garner Laney's forgiveness that way, I'm sorry to disappoint you."

I gulped, "So you know?"

"Know what?"

"So you don't know?" I said with a bit of a smile. This would be good. If I could get to Dana before Laney declared that I was an over-dramatic loser who ruined her life, I might have a chance.

Dana folded her arms and glared at me, "What are you talking about?" Her eyes darted to Lance, "What is he talking about?"

"Can we come in for a minute or two?" I asked.

Dana eyed me over suspiciously before pushing away from the door and walking into the living room. She flipped the television off on her way past and flopped down on the sofa. I motioned for Lance to follow me in and we both hovered by the door. Dana rolled her eyes, "Would you stop standing in the doorway like that?"

In three long strides I was sitting cross from Dana in her father's recliner chair. The chair was her father's prized possession. Laney told me that when her parents got married, he had insisted on keeping the chair against her mother's wishes and its age was starting to show. The fabric was fringed at the edges, the lever on the side was broken, and it emitted an-Old-Spice-meets-Icy-Hot smell into the air around the piece of furniture. I leaned forward and looked upward for some heavenly intervention. I was going to need it. I sat there and Dana prodded, "I'm officially moving from bemused by your mind-boggling behavior to annoyed."

Lance chuckled, "That sounds like something Laney would say to him."

Dana crossed her arms, "Justin?"

"I need your help, Dana."

"I've had nightmares that begin like that," Dana responded.

"I know that you don't like me very-"

"Don't try to guilt me here. I don't dislike you; you're just not my favorite person in the world. What do you want?"

"I'm in love with Laney," I answered simply. It was weird, but each time I said the words out loud it got a bit easier. I also became more positive about my feelings. Laney was the girl, the dream, the uber chick that I always dreamed of finding-it figured she was right under my nose the whole time. I knew that if I could tell Dana that I was in love with her sister and risk bodily harm, it was definitely real. Laney Jane had better appreciate this one day.

I studied Dana's face. It was expressionless. Laney had once dragged me to the play Art in New York City and it revolved around one of the main characters buying this piece of art that was actually just a white canvas with nothing on it. At the moment, Dana could have understudied for the role of the canvas. I glanced at Lance who shrugged and motioned with his eyes for me to continue. I cleared my throat, which felt like Lance's 4-Runner was parked on it, and continued, "I know that it seems a bit sudden but she's one of the most important people in my life. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her, but she doesn't seem to believe me."

Dana bent back against the cushions of the sofa and bit at her bottom lip. She looked at me studiously and after what felt like forever replied, "Shit."

"What?"

Dana shook her head and said, "The weed was right."

Lance shot me a confused look and questioned, "The weed?"

Dana nodded, "Yes, my sister, Meredith, the weed…she was right."

"Why do you call her-" Lance began but I glared at him and he shut up.

Dana sighed and said, "Do you know how much I hate that? My sister said that you would be the first to crack. I didn't believe it though. I told her, 'Justin is too stupid and around too many beautiful people to realize anything.' You had to prove me wrong, didn't you?"

"Huh?" I replied. I wasn't sure how to handle Dana's reaction to my declaration, but I didn't think it was good if she was saying Meredith was right about something. They didn't have the best relationship from what Laney said (Dana referring to her as a weed and the constant yelling I used to hear when we were younger clued me in too).

"She was convinced that you would be the first one to admit your feelings, but my mother was sure it would be Laney."

"What the-was your family taking bets on this?"

Dana scowled, "Justin, don't be stupid. We aren't oblivious to the bizarre nature of your relationship with my sister."

"And how did you feel about the idea---"

Dana clutched her head, which I didn't take as a good sign and replied, "I didn't think it was a good thing, but I also expected Laney to be the one to fall for you and end up hurt."

"You did?" I said in surprise. I grinned at Lance. Were Laney and I the only ones in the dark about our feelings?

"Lose the grin. It's highly irritating," Dana snapped.

"What did you mean a minute ago?" I prodded. Persistence was the key. I figured if Laney got her views on the world and what not from Dana, maybe she got her inability to put up with my pestering from her too. I had to wear her down.

"I mean that I thought if either of you were going to realize you loved the other, it would be Laney."

"You did-but she's always so…and I'm hardly what she wanted…and then…"

"Justin, shut up!" Dana hollered. She crossed her legs and her arms before continuing, "I always worried that my sister would see you with one of your numerous little girlfriends-because you always ran to her and bragged about some amazing love-and she'd start to realize that things change, or evolve as some would say, and maybe feel mediocre in comparison to the other women in your life."

Dana glanced at me like I should understand where she was going with this. I nodded, but I felt like she explained the answer to a mathematical puzzle to me and I still didn't get it. Dana went on, "Score one for Meredith though, because I never thought that you would be the one to fall first-or realize that you had fallen. You're completely clueless."

I wasn't going to smile. No cockiness. No inappropriate displays of ego. I needed Dana's help and if I acted like I was DA man, which I was, she'd kick me out of the house and convince Laney to marry stupid fucking Spencer.

No smiling. No smiling. No smiling.

I grinned shamelessly, "So she's in love with me, huh? She wants me bad."

Lance muttered something indecipherable and shot me a you're-a-dead-man look of pity. I shrugged. I couldn't help it. The ego man in me had taken over temporarily. Dana couldn't hold me, regular Justin, responsible for that. She had to know that Ego Man was a force that no mortal could control. He was stronger than The Rock and had the allure of Cindy Crawford.

Besides, there was no way that I wouldn't be excited about this revelation.  Laney Jane loved me.  She loved me.

Dana said, "I didn't say that. I have no idea how Laney feels about you."

"Liar," I answered. As soon as the words slipped out, I glanced around to see if Ego Man had re-emerged. Nope. Just me, the idiot.

"Why does my sister put up with you? I will never fathom what she sees in you. Never." Dana stared at me like she was inspecting me for purchase. "Justin, it's no secret that Laney doesn't like being the center of attention. It's not her cup of tea. She'd rather watch from the sidelines and be left alone. That's pretty hard to do with you in her life. I told her several times if she wanted to maintain her anonymity she was going to have to distance herself from you."

I knew this. I knew Dana told Laney repeatedly to ditch me, but it still stung to hear it said out loud. I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream at Dana that I shouldn't be punished for my success, but I sat there and nodded in defeat. Ego Man had officially left the building.

So much for counting on Dana's help.

I squeezed my hands together into a tight ball and my eyes wandered to two young kids riding bicycles outside on the sidewalk. I smiled when this tiny girl with pigtails dropped her bike and walked over to help up the boy who fell off his own bike. Before either of them knew how it happened, they were caught up in a game of tag.

It filled me with the ability to boldly go where no man had gone before. I was a superhero from a Marvel comic and Dana was the sinister sister that vaporized men with her stare. I said, "You're wrong."

"What?"

"You're wrong about me and my life. She needs to learn to deal with it."

"Justin, I'm trying to explain-"

"Dana, I understand that you're trying to protect Laney and that you're worried about the world I spend a lot of time in, but for every one incident there are fifty times when Laney goes unnoticed and people leave her alone. It's stupid for her to give up a good relationship because of that one in fifty chance that she'll be recognized."

"You're missing the point, Justin. You accept your lifestyle. It's a part of your job and you're rewarded for your sacrifices monetarily. My sister shouldn't have to become some sort of celebrity-by-association if she chooses not to."

"Sometimes that stuff chooses you."

"Or you choose it for her."

"Is this where I'm supposed to say I love her enough to walk away?"

"No, it's where you're supposed to realize that part of Laney will always withdraw from public attention. If you really do love her, you're going to have to learn to be more sympathetic of that. She's not the center of attention, Justin. Some of us don't like that type of scrutiny."

"I don't like that type of scrutiny, Dana."

Dana shook her head, "Fair enough." Dana turned on the light, which streamed right into my face and I felt like I was in a murder mystery about to be interrogated. Dana's expression became even more serious and she asked, "Do you really love Laney or are you on the rebound from Britney?"

I stared at Dana and my voice took on a firmness I wasn't used to imposing where it concerned my personal life. I was usually guessing, dodging questions, or trying to convince myself that everything was okay. I didn't need it anymore and it was kinda frightening, or more precisely, it scared the shit out of me.

I said, "I really love her. This isn't about Britney and it's not about trying to maintain my friendship with Laney. It's not even about having to share Laney with Spencer. I'm in love with Laney Jane. I'm not sure when it happened, but now it's out there. I tried to ignore it and make it go away, but it just caused more problems. And I don't want the feeling to go away or to lose her. I can't imagine her not being in my life and I can't imagine anyone ever being nearly as important to me as she is already. I trust her with everything and I know I can count on her whenever I need her. She belongs with me, Dana. I could make her happy. I know she doesn't like the cameras or the fans and I won't lie and say they'll go away, but I'll do my best to keep her out of the spotlight. I'll make sure that when I'm around no one treats her like anything less than my Laney Jane who sports a stupid smirk and smart mouth."

Dana sat there staring at me for what felt like forever. I wasn't sure if I should go on, or if I had come across like too much of a soap opera star or a member of the Party of Five cast. I stood up and decided to talk to fill the intimidating silence. I would not be dissuaded. I reminded myself that with or without Dana's help, I was going to pursue Laney. I was going to get Laney to admit she loved me…and I was going to kiss her and kiss her and…well, you get the idea. I said, "I know everyone thinks Spencer is the right guy for her-"

"I don't."

Okay, I was hearing things. I was so determined to sway Dana's attitude towards me that I created a Dana-like voice in my head. I glanced at Lance to see if he had noticed that I had gone crazy. That was no help. His eyes were shut and he was tapping his foot to a melody only he could hear.

Dana stood up and moved closer to me. She sighed, "Laney wants Spencer to be right for her, but I saw the two of them together. She treats him like I treat my boyfriend's buddies. They've got the chemistry of a piece of lettuce."

"But she said that you and Steph…"

"He's a good guy. He's really smart, funny, and neither he or Laney get so caught up in arguments over who was the best Batman that they forget other people are around who are convinced they're insane…but she doesn't love him."

I tried to hide my delight with Dana's admission. I was going to play it cool. Guys always played it cool-really, this time I was determined to act indifferent. This time Ego Man would not control me. I was as cool as Robert Dinero in Raging Bull. I commented, "Michael Keaton was the best Batman and he knew to get out of the franchise before it went to shit."

"I'm not Laney. I don't care."

"I know you're not Laney. If Laney were here, she'd be refusing to speak to me. She'd be blasting Tori Amos and yelling obscenities at me through her bedroom door."

"It's scary how well you know my sister," Dana replied. She ran her fingers through her hair, playing with the layered strands, and continued, "My point was Spencer isn't the guy for her. She's happy right now, but at some point she's going to get tired of him."

I knew it. Deep down I knew Laney didn't love Spencer, but it was reassuring to hear it from someone not routing for me. I smiled, "I know she doesn't love Spencer."

"That doesn't mean she's in love with you."

"But you just finished telling me that…"

"I refuse to accept that my usually-intelligent baby sister would fall for you," Dana paused. When she saw the look on my face, she rolled her eyes, "Oh don't get all wounded on me. You men take these things so personally. My boyfriend got so pissed off when I told him his prized pasta creation tasted like sludge."

I was completely confused and getting more annoyed by the minute. One minute Laney was in love with me and, a few moments later, she wasn't in love with me. I forced myself not to bite her head off and nodded. Dana went on, "You're all wrong for my sister. She needs someone like Spencer, but she one that she actually loves."

"She loves me."

"We have no proof of that and you know as well as I do that the more you say it, the less likely Laney is to accept it as the truth."

"She is stubborn," I admitted. I smiled weakly in Dana's direction, "That's why I was hoping you would help me."

"Help you? You want me to help you get together with my sister so I have to see you more than I already do?"

"I'm around all the time anyway."

"But the idea that one day we could be related is horrifying," Dana countered.

I kicked Lance's chair and he opened his eyes. He gave me a thumb's up and stood up, brushing out the wrinkles in his Nike jogging pants. He asked, "Can I use the bathroom?"

"LANCE!" I pouted, making my annoyance with his lack of help quite obvious.

Dana nodded, "Hall, second door on the left."

"LANCE!" I repeated as he started to walk off. Obviously the guy needed to learn what moral support was. See if I helped him get the girl…ever. I crossed my arms and kicked his empty chair in frustration. I met Dana's gaze and said, "Dana, you know that I could make her happy…" I sighed, "…I love her. I want to be with her and she's not even giving us a chance. I could deal with it if she gave it a chance and realized she wasn't in love with me-"

"Guys always say that…"

"BUT I know she loves me. She kissed me back!"

Dana's face twisted in horror, "Oh EW! She kissed you? BLAH." Dana started to wipe at her mouth like I had tried to shove my tongue down her throat. So far, this mission of mine was a complete disaster. I was no closer to getting Dana to help me, Lance was pissing me off, Ego Man was long gone, and I was starting to suffer from a bruised ego.

"Why did you have to tell me that?"

"To prove that Laney Jane loves me."

Dana covered her face and mumbled something to herself. She stared at me, "Justin, aren't you on the rebound-"

"It's not about that," I whined.

"You're positive?"

"I'm positive. I've never been more sure of anything, Dana," I paused and tried to get my thoughts in order. Impassioned pleas wouldn't work with Dana. I had to provide her with cold-hard facts. I said, "Remember after the trip to Hawaii? You cornered me on the steps and told me not to use Laney when Britney wasn't available?"

"Yes."

"Britney told me the same thing when she broke up with me. Well, she said that I used her when Laney wasn't available. At the time I thought she was crazy and pissed off with me about being late to breakfast. The past few weeks all I could think about was what Brit had said to me," I said. I bit at my non-existent thumbnail before continuing, "…She was right. I did use her and every other girlfriend when Laney couldn't be there. Laney was always talking about being the third wheel, but the truth is that it was my girlfriend who didn't belong. Didn't matter who it was or what was going on. I wanted to be with Laney."

Dana stared at me blankly again. I staggered a bit in my step. I wasn't sure how much more I could do or what I could say that would convince Dana that this was real. My eyes wandered to the selection of movies on the shelf of the entertainment system. My fingers had a mind of their own and traced over the various choices lining the shelves. The Stantons were a family of quite different tastes in movies that ranged from Sense and Sensibility to Die Hard With A Vengeance. I picked up Die Hard and said, "There is something really cool about Bruce Willis in this movie."

Dana rolled her eyes, "What is it with guys and action movies?"

"Die Hard deals with universal themes that anyone can relate to, especially guys," I answered.

"What?"

"It's all about the relationships between men and women," I replied.

"Did you see the same Die Hard that I did?"

"His character, John, tries to act like he has some idea of what's going on; that he's this cool guy who is completely in control. He's in the middle of this hostage situation, but you know that's not the main problem. The main problem is his troubles with his wife. So John is in this really shitty situation, facing death, and he tries to cover it up with this fake bravado and all the while, you know that he's thinking? He's thinking, 'Maybe if I save her life, my wife will forgive me for being a stupid idiot and realize how much I love her.' That's all he really wants, ya know? He wants the opportunity to admit he didn't handle things the best way and that he deserves a second chance."

Dana stared at the case I was holding up and then at me for a moment. Her forehead was crinkled as if she were trying to remove me from her sight with psychic abilities. She said, "I don't believe you're using action movies as a point of reference for your romantic foibles, Justin."

"What?"

"I'm not Laney. I don't enjoy cinematic analogies," Dana replied sharply. She played with the fringe of a blanket that was placed over the back of the sofa. She groaned and said, "Before you offer me a verbal dissertation on how Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II bonded you to my sister for life like she does, I'm going to surrender."

Did she say…I stared at her in shock, "You're going to help me?"

"On three conditions."

That figured. The conditions were probably impossible like slay a dragon, retrieve the Holy Grail, and sit through Billy Bob Thorton's Slingblade. I muttered, "Of course."

Dana stood up and walked over until she was right in front of me. She crossed her arms momentarily before moving her hands to her hips. She held up one hand and said, "Number one: You swear that you have thought out everything about this, Justin, and I do mean everything. I'm not about to help you win my sister's heart for you to break it in a matter of months when you get bored. You better be damn sure that she is what you want and that you aren't using to her to fill some vacancy in the Justin hotel of love-"

"I'm not-"

Dana cut me off, "Number Two: You promise not to go all stalker on my sister and cause her to fail out of school. She's got finals. You realize that school is important to her and that she doesn't need any added distractions."

"But Chris said that I need to show Laney that I love her."

"That you love her, not annoy her. How do you think Spencer got so far with my sister? He let her call the shots, stupid."

"I think I know Laney a little better than Spencer," I complained.

"Justin, did you ever hear that less is more?"

"What?"

"Obviously not," Dana muttered. She pushed her hair back and explained, "Men always think women want to be overwhelmed with romance, but what guys don't realize is that it's not how much, but what you do."

"Huh?"

"Justin, you're an idiot savant," Dana snapped.

"I'm trying to-"

"Instead of barraging my sister constantly with a thousand different trivial little things, send one or two really good things and leave her to ponder that. She doesn't have time to sort through her emotions for you if you're bombarding her with gifts and flowers every ten seconds. All you'll manage to do is piss her off and help Spencer out in the long run."

I wasn't sure when Lance had returned, but he was leaning against the banister in the hall and spoke up, "I agree with Dana."

I kicked at nothing, "Fine. I've got rehearsals anyway."

Dana studied my face and went on, "Finally, and there is no discussion about this one, Number Three: If we do this and Laney decides that you aren't what she wants, you respect it. You back away without any whining, threats, or arguments."

"But she-"

"I'm serious about this, Justin. I'll help you get Laney alone and get you the opportunity to tell her everything you told me, but you have to promise me that if she says she's not in love with you or doesn't want your life, you walk away."

I looked to Lance for help. Part of me knew that Laney loved me and that if I said the right thing to her, she would give in. Another part of me was scared shitless. If Dana kept her part of the deal and Laney still said no, that was it. I lost and Spencer got my girl.

Lance stepped into the room and patted my back supportively. He replied, "He'll do it. If Laney says no, Justin won't pursue the issue any further and he'll leave her alone."

"But-"

Dana answered before I could stammer out my protests, "Fair enough." Dana glanced at me and said, "What do you need me to do?"

I managed to push the fear and what if's aside and replied, "I need to get Laney alone somewhere that she can't run away and ignore me. I can take care of everything else. I need you to do that for me. And talk me up a bit-you and Steph need to act supportive of the two of us. She thinks that you two love Spencer and I'm pretty sure that's why she's with him."

"What?"

"She thinks she should be with Spencer because he's logical and you like him."

"My sister can be so stupid sometimes."

"I agree," I replied with a smile. My thoughts were racing a mile a minute and the exhilaration of the possibilities--the kisses that could come my way--made everything else seem completely insignificant. Laney Jane would be mine. She would flash her mind-altering smile, I would pull her against my chest, and we would kiss and…

Okay, I've heard enough. I know I said I wouldn't interrupt him anymore, but if I don't take over right now, we're going to come across more like Cheech and Chong rather than Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn in Philadelphia Story. And honestly, if you're going to end up dating some sentimental, romantic fool, shouldn't it be one with the good sense to appreciate classic romance?

The next two weeks were fairly quiet in my life, almost enjoyable, minus the eight am yoga class that I was dragged to every morning. The yoga instructor had written a book called Finding the Inner You Through Yoga and Chocolate. Everyone in the class bowed down to her like she was the omnipotent Wizard of Oz, but halfway through my first class when she had me bent up like a pretzel, I saw her for what she really was…the Wicked Witch of the West.

Spencer only called once and left a short message on my answering machine about setting up a time to meet for dinner when I got home. Short, simple, and full of controlled anger. He was starting to remind me of my father, the prince charming every girl dreams of…her dad.

The worst part of the situation was that I wasn't too upset about how things stood with Spencer. I wasn't waiting by my phone longingly for him to call so I could beg for his mercy and I honestly didn't believe that I had anything to apologize for. I knew I probably could have called him or tried to work things out, reassuring his stupid male pride by offering words like, "You're the guy for me" but the more I thought about it, the less certain I was of something like that. If he was getting this upset about something I had no control over, then what chance did we have when I really made a mess of things? I was a neurotic commitment-phobe and, at some point, I was likely to do something much worse than choose Justin Timberlake as my best friend-although, I was beginning to wonder if that was possible.

Justin. What was I going to do with him? I wasn't as angry as I had been, more bewildered than anything. I thought over everything, from the first time we met to when Nsync hit it big to Hawaii. Nothing ever led me to believe that this would happen, that he would want a more-then-friendly relationship from me when he had the most beautiful girls in the world falling at his feet.

The most surprising part was that Justin was holding firm to his refusal to talk to me. He hadn't called me once and, aside from his declaration to Spencer that he loved me, Justin had backed away. I couldn't figure it out. It wasn't like him. What? Did he finally realize how ridiculous his pronouncements had been? Did he know that the thought of us as a couple was absurd?

I told myself I wasn't going to harp on it. If Justin could tell Spencer that he loved me and then act like I didn't exist, then I could forget him. I wouldn't think about Justin. I would block out that kiss from my consciousness. I would pretend his ignoring me was normal, when in reality, whenever I was angry with him in the past, he would've called me about eighty times and pleaded for forgiveness, saying something like, "Laney Jane, you can try to stay mad at me, but I know it won't last."

I always hated when he did that because he was usually right. I couldn't stay mad at him. Bastard.

So, despite everything that had happened the past few weeks, I had successfully managed to avoid almost ever thinking about Justin. Honestly…I didn't think about him when I got up in the morning and brushed my teeth. He didn't garner a moment of consideration when I was in yoga class and supposed to be clearing my mind of all earthly baggage. He definitely didn't enter my thoughts during my International relations class and he was almost nonexistent when I tried to fall asleep at night.

It was amazing how much I was not thinking about Justin.

I sat on Marisa's bed and stared out the window. Only two days until I went home. Not only was I facing the normal weirdness of returning from a year away from my parent's immediate authority, but I was about to return home to a possible catastrophic ordeal. I wasn't sure I was ready to handle that.

I kept trying to tell myself not to worry about it, but that made it that much more nerve-wracking and overwhelming. I told myself that because Justin would be there, didn't mean anything. I had plenty to keep me busy. Steph said she had found the perfect summer jobs for us if I still wanted one and I had a social life aside from Justin. Spencer, Steph, and my sister could keep me busy.

And it wasn't like I would've been spending my summer with Justin anyway. His tour started four (not that I kept track of that sort of thing) days after I returned home and he wouldn't be around much. So there was nothing to fret about. Everything would be fine…but…a part of me knew I had to deal with this thing between us. I couldn't ignore it forever. I had to talk to Justin. I had to make him understand that this was silly. He had to realize that he loved me as a friend, but wasn't in love with me. He belonged with Britney or someone as equally adorable as she was.

That was who people wanted to see him with. Not some random girl who wasn't very photogenic or had actual hips.

The other part of me thought it was best to leave things as they were. I would continue to not think about all of this and get on with my life. All friends grew apart at some point. All friends moved on with their lives. They got older, got married, had kids, and lived completely separate lives.

Our buzzer rang and I glanced out the window to see if I saw anyone familiar. Marisa had probably forgotten her ID card again. I stepped over to the intercom and said, "Yeah?"

"I have a package for Melanie Jane Stanton."

I glanced around the empty room. I don't know why. It was as if I was expecting my teddy bear to explain what was going on to me. I grabbed my keys and ID card and buzzed back, "I'll be right down."

I got on the elevator and Lauren followed me on. I rolled my eyes and she said, "Hey there, Laney. Where are you off to?"

"If you'd been keeping up on your Internet Nsync stuff, you would know that they're in Florida. No need to follow me around," I replied tersely. This girl never took a hint and it was starting to fill me with nothing but homicidal rage.

Lauren shrugged, "I was actually on my way to the library. You really need to lose the attitude, Laney. As Lance's girlfriend, you have a responsibility to his fans to be a nice person."

"I have a responsibility to tell you to PISS OFF," I snapped. The elevator doors couldn't open quick enough for me. I booked it to the door and nearly knocked the UPS man over. I apologized and said, "You had a package for Stanton?"

The young man nodded and turned around. He handed me this huge package and I nearly fell backwards when he placed it in my arms. I moaned, "I think this is a mistake."

"We don't make mistakes, Miss. This package was set to be delivered to you tonight."

I tried to slide my card through the machine and open the door, but ended up dropping the box. The UPS guy smirked in my direction and replied, "I hope there's nothing fragile in there."

"No, don't offer to help me. That would be too much to ask for," I moaned as he hopped back in his truck.

I managed to get the box through the door and pushed it to the elevator. There was no return address on it. I shook it wondering if Nsync fans had gotten together and sent me a bomb. I kicked at it and shook it, but the sound gave nothing away.

Once I got back to the room, I rummaged through my desk for a pair of scissors and opened the package. There was an audiotape with a note that said, "Play Me." I immediately recognized the chicken scratch. I groaned, "The idiot. What is he doing?"

I dropped the box. I wasn't going to look any further. He wasn't going to play any stupid mind games with me. He pulled this crap with other girls too. He had filled Kylie's room with roses when she had called things off with him. He had a romantic dinner delivered to her house and failed to show up because he met Marta at the gas station on his way to Kylie's house.

I put the tape down and went back to my notebook. Plato's writings on the cave were much more intriguing than anything Justin could have possible sent me.

And it was.

Really.

For about ten minutes anyhow. I managed to sit with my book and not run back over and pop the tape into my stereo.

Then I snapped. If curiosity killed the cat, I could only imagine what it would do to me one day. I stepped across the room quietly, like I was prepared for the box to come alive and eat me like something out of Poltergeist. I picked up the tape and hit play. I half-expected to hear Justin's voice filter through like in some bad movie, but instead it was Billy Joel.

"…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…"

I groaned. What the hell was he up to? I hollered out, "You're not going to win me over with a Billy Joel song, Justin…and what the hell does that have to do with anything? HUH?" Justin had driven me to talking to myself. I was only mere seconds away from being labeled Loony Laney, the schizophrenic who shouted at herself behind closed doors.

I pulled the box closer to me and started to laugh. There was a Donnie Wahlberg doll staring up at me. A post-it note clung to the doll's clothing. I pulled it off and read it aloud.

To replace the one I hung from your ceiling fan when we were twelve…you've got to admit it was funny though.

I rolled my eyes, "At least you kept his clothes on this time." I put down the miniaturized Donnie and underneath it there was a small box wrapped up. I removed the paper and there were a few different videos-Heathers, Philadelphia Story, and Say Anything. I rolled my eyes and opened the small note attached.

I know you own them already and can quote them all from memory, but each one represents part of the reason I love you. I hope every time you watch them, you think of me the same way that I think of you.

"You stupid moron. You don't love me. You can't love me," I muttered.

My door opened and Marisa peeked her head in, "Laney, are you okay? Scotty said he heard yelling."

"Uh…just the television."

"She comes to me when I'm feeling down…inspires me without a sound…she touches me, I get turned around…"

"You're watching television with the radio on?"

"No, I was watching television and now I'm not," I said. My eyes wandered downward and I noticed that I still had the stupid scrawling with Justin's profession of devotion gripped in my hand tightly. I dropped it on the bed and pretended not to notice it sitting there.

Marisa glanced at the box excitedly and asked, "Oohh, who sent you the package?"

"Nobody."

"Nobody?" Marisa repeated. I saw her eyeing the note that I had discarded moments ago and she asked, "Aren't you going to open the rest?"

I shrugged indifferently-because I really was indifferent-and said, "Maybe later. It's no big deal."

I jumped when Justin's voice echoed out of my speakers, "Laney Jane, would you stop being stubborn and open the rest of the stuff? I know you're curious and fighting those good feelings towards me."

"I am not," I replied. I fell back on the bed and threw my hands across my face. I decided to concentrate on my ceiling. The cracks caused by bad plumbing were much intriguing than the package from Justin. Cocky bastard was wrong.

As if Justin was in the room with me, he countered, "Don't even front, girl. Open the damn gifts and come to terms with the fact that you're stuck with me."

"Fuck off, Justin," I hollered at the stereo and made an obscene gesture at no one in particular. I caught Marisa staring at me, shrugged, and casually questioned, "What?"

Justin's voice faded out and the song "In Your Eyes" started to play. I threw my teddy bear at my stereo. I moaned, "You're such a loser, Justin. Such a loser!"

Marisa giggled, "Laney, what is going on here, girl?"

"Besides the fact that my friend has snapped and come completely unhinged?"

"Is he…" Marisa started to jump up and down, "Oh my god. Justin Timberlake is in love with you! My roommate is going to date Justin-freaking-Timberlake!"

"No, I'm not."

"Are you serious?" Marisa dropped her bag and started going through the box, "Laney, come here. You need to see this."

"Unless it's Justin's head on a silver platter, I don't really care," I replied. I didn't. This was me, not caring. Even if he put Matt Damon in that box, I wouldn't care or forget how he had turned our lives upside down. For further proof, I picked up my pillow and smothered my face in its lining.

"Dude, no, this is…wow. That clown looks like he's feeling you up."

I jumped up and snatched the picture out of Marisa's hands. "Oh, he's a dead man. DEAD! What's he trying to do? Blackmail me into being his girlfriend? He knows that I'm familiar with all his little romantic manipulations so he's trying something different with me-extortion!"

"Calm down, Laney. There's a note attached to the back," Marisa said.

I peeled the post-it from the back of the picture and read it: I even love you when you're showing the love to Bobo the clown, Laney Jane. What other guy can say that?

I shook my head, "I hate him. I really, really hate him. Did he really think this picture would make me weak in the-" I noticed another picture. My anger dissipated and was replaced with vast amusement. I started to laugh-one of those snickers that stops your legs and arms from working properly-and I sat down on the edge of my bed. Marisa came around behind me and started to laugh too.

She hooted, "What is that?" before throwing her hand over her mouth to control her guffaws.

"Halloween from a few years ago. I'm sure Justin wishes he could Turn Back Time…get it? Cher…Turn Back Time…" I laughed at my own stupid joke and pulled the note off the picture when Marisa shook her head at my innate lameness.

Marisa removed it from my hands and read it to me: Before you plot my death, realize that for every humiliating experience you've had, I've had one too. Nobody knows me like you do, Laney.
P.S- If this picture ends up anywhere other than your hands, I will tell Lance about the naked dream. I really will.

Marisa glanced at me with a bewildered glance, "The naked dream?"

My face turned bright red, "Nothing you want to hear about."

"On the contrary."

"Really…long story…and yeah, you never saw this picture."

"Justin's got nice legs," Marisa said with a chuckle.

I nodded, "He does. It's truly sickening."

I caught myself in the mirror and I was smiling like some sort of lunatic. That was not good. No, I would not be influenced by a scandalous shot of Justin as Cher. Did he really think that a picture of him in drag would endear him to me? If anything, most girls would be apprehensive of dating a man that looked better in a dress than she did. Not that I was considering dating him. I was simply pointing out that the picture wasn't helpful and to prove it, I ordered myself to lose the silly grin. I shook my head and managed to regain a neutral expression. I wasn't going to fall for his over-the-top box of idiocy.

Then my eyes fell on something in the box and my smile reappeared without my permission, "Where the hell did he find this?"

"He's a superstar. He has people to do that for him," Marisa replied. She pulled it out of the box and opened it, "Why would he send you a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pillowcase?"

I removed the next sticky note. This one had a huge happy face drawn on it like he was some ten-year-old girl sending her pen pal a Christmas gift. He was such a loser sometimes. I read the scribble:

I decided a Vanilla Ice pillowcase might scare you, or scare me when Joey stole it because it was dope. This was the beginning of it all for us. Some of the best times in my life were spent arguing over things like this with you.

"Dude, my best friend and I used to fight about that too," Marisa commented.

"Huh?"

"Donnatello was so my favorite, but Mike was always, 'Marisa, how can say something like that when everyone knows that Michelangelo is the cool one.' To each his own, I guess."

Have I mentioned before that I'm not always sure which planet my roommate is from? I scratched my head and nodded in fake understanding. Better not to push a topic that would scare me. I said, "Yeah, right. Well, the pillowcase is more of a reference to our relationship than actual favorite characters. Justin was obsessed with Thundercats and I was too deeply involved in an imaginary relationship with Sha-Na-Na to ever notice deformed turtles named after famous artists."

Marisa was the one with the baffled expression now. She asked, "So if you didn't like the show-"

I cut her off and explained, "It was the first in many bad movies that Justin made us see. Sure, he'd tell you that I was the one who wanted to see Varsity Blues, but that's a lie. I happened to say that Paul Walker was sexy hot and got roped into some movie about football. But I always get roped into some bad movie with Justin. It's the story of my life."

I rifled through the Styrofoam shells covering the rest of the knick-knacks. It reminded me of our seventh grade Halloween party when we had to bob for apples as my hands felt around for something solid and I pulled out a bag. I opened the bag and pulled out pictures of different actresses. I pushed my hair back and shot Marisa a baffled glance. I said, "I have no idea what this is symbolizes…Maybe he's gay?"

"Isn't there a note?"

"I think I like the idea that he's coming out of the closet. There aren't any pictures of Joan Crawford or Judy Garland are there?" I asked as Marisa peeked at each photo.

Her arm shot up in the air as if she were Charlie when he found the golden ticket in Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. She waved a small post-it note around and said, "Found it. This should explain everything."

"I doubt it. This is Justin we're talking about," I said removing the note from her hands.

I wanted you to see what I think of you. You and I are good with movies, so I decided to stick with what we know. Laney Jane, you've got the cool charisma of Lauren Bacall, Jodi Foster's smarts, the legs of Julia Roberts, and no actress comes close to having the phenomenal smile that you have whenever you laugh.

Melissa clutched the pillow case to her chest and gave me this wistful sideward gaze before replying, "You are so…wow, Laney. I wish a guy would say something like that to me. I usually get the guys that say something poetic like 'you give me a woody, baby'."

I rolled my eyes and said, "Me too. Makes me a little wary of compliments to the contrary." All the while I was thinking, I will not be flattered. I will not be flattered.

Okay, I was flattered. I was a weak nitwit who had found herself falling for a comparison to Lauren Bacall. Forget Julia Roberts (despite the fact that in Justin's mind that is the highest compliment he can bestow upon someone), but as cool as Lauren Bacall? I wish that were true. Lauren Bacall would know how to handle it when her idiot best friend told her he was in love with her. She would gracefully remove a cigarette from his smoking jacket, lean across a desk, and say something caustic.

Before my ego could swell to Timberlake proportions, I dumped the remainder of the box over. Boxes of Junior Mints and Gummy Savers bounced across my floor, a picture of Daisy Duck slid under my bed, a book on the movie Titanic hit the ground with a thud (ha, ha. That was a real nice touch. Really. He always seems to forget that he was the one who loved that movie.), and in the middle of the whole mess was a bumper sticker.

I picked it up and smiled. He was such a dork and I was a bigger dork for appreciating something like this.

I removed the last sticky note: I got one for my car too.

"Born to banter? What does that mean?" Marisa asked.

"It's just…all we do…and…" I stopped trying to talk because I couldn't hear my own thoughts over the pounding of my chest. This was not a good sign. No. This was right up there with the moment of insanity when I kissed Justin back.

I yelled at myself. I kept repeating, Not good. Not good, Melanie Jane. Not good at all.

It didn't stop me from clutching the bumper sticker to my chest and sighing like I was some dumb girly-girl who received a bouquet of roses from Mr. Perfect. Justin was more like Mr. Pain In The Ass.

And of course, with his perfect timing as usual, Justin's voice came on the tape again. I groaned and he said, "Laney Jane, stop denying it. I know you're scared. But admit it. You love me."

"Here we go again," I mumbled. I nudged Marisa and said, "This is the part where he pledges his undying devotion before noticing how hot one of the girls from their opening act really is."

"Laney-"

I held up my hand for her to be quiet when Justin's voice lowered, "JC will kill me for doing this, but…it's a new song he asked me to record with him. I've been wracking my brain for days on how to make you hear me and this song says it all. Listen to it for me...please…"

The melody to a song started. Marisa squeezed me so hard that I thought she burst all the blood vessels in my arm. She shrieked, "Oh my god. How romantic."

"Not really," I replied with fake indignation. I was never a girl for weepy sentiment and I didn't want to start. I was not going to be moved by this. I was not going to even entertain thoughts of Justin as anything more than an annoying ex-best friend. Try as he might with overdone sentiment and candy, I was not going to fall prey to his charms. I was not going to be moved by some stupid song.

Justin's voice seemed to drown out everything though and it was as if I had become susceptible to some icky love virus complete with symptoms of clammy hands and fluttering stomach. The song boomed from my stereo, "…I just don't understand, why you're running from a good man, baby…why you want to turn your back on love…and why you've already given up… you've been hurt before, but I swear I'll give you so much more…I swear I'll never let you down cuz I swear it's you that I adore…and I can't help myself, babe, because I think about you constantly…and my heart gets no rest over you…you, you…"

I groaned. I started to move to the stereo to turn it off, but Marisa pushed me back down on the bed. God help a person forced to live with a romantic.

"…You can call me selfish, but all I want is your love…"

"Aww…all he wants is your love, Laney," Marisa repeated, with this nasally voice usually reserved for puppies and overly cute small children, in case I missed it the first time or had suddenly become deaf.

"…You can call me hopeless, baby, 'cuz I'm hopelessly in love. You can call me unperfect, but who's perfect…"

"Did he say unperfect? It's imperfect, you moron. Unperfect isn't even a word. Stupid bastard is trying to woo me with a grammatically incorrect song!"

"…Tell me what do I gotta do…to prove that I'm the only one for you…so what's wrong with being selfish…"

"You're missing the point, Laney. I think this is sweet," Marisa responded. Marisa picked up the Donnie Wahlberg doll and added, "He seems to have put a lot of thought into this whole thing."

"He's always big on selling himself, but he sucks at the delivery, Marisa."

"…I'll be taking up your time, till the day you realize…that for you there could be no one else. I just gotta have you for myself…baby I would take good care of you…no matter what it is you're going through…I'll be there for you when you're in need…baby believe in me. Cuz if love is a crime, then punish me…I would die for you…cuz I don't want to live without you…what can I do…"

"You should at least consider talking to him…admit it. You have to be a little touched by all the effort…" Marisa paused when she met my blank expression. She shrugged and went on, "Well, I would definitely be. Sexy and sweet? You better claim this guy, Laney, before someone else does."

"Then you date him! You try to put up with his array of shit. Like he has this bizarre need to have the last word in every conversation. Do you know how long it takes to say goodbye to him on the phone sometimes? He will just keep saying 'later' over and over until you finally hang up on his annoying ass…"

"You can call me selfish, but all I want is your love… You can call me hopeless, baby, 'cuz I'm hopelessly in love. You can call me unperfect, but who's perfect…tell me what do I gotta do…to prove that I'm the only one for you…"

"Then there is the way he will leave these ten-minute messages on my voicemail without ever explaining why he called in the first place. Sometimes I get back from class and have a random message that says, 'Termites hate jam. Remember that, Laney.' Do you know how annoying that is?"

"I think it's kinda cute."

"Of course you do! He has the population of young women around the world fooled with his penetrating blue eyes and smooth voice. It's not so fun when he springs stuff on you in the middle of a crowded restaurant! He's not that wonderful when he's telling your boyfriend that he's in love with you. And it's really hard to be moved by his proclamations when you've witnessed it eight hundred times before with different girls!"

"I think you're theorizing way too much for your own good."

"…Why do you keep us apart, why won't you give up your heart…you know that we're meant to be together…"

"That's it. I'm not listening to anymore," I said. I turned the stereo off and hoped that Marisa didn't notice my shaking hands or the sudden bout of allergy problems springing from my eyes. I ran into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I was not going to be persuaded or fall for any of his stupid ploys. It wouldn't work on me. I was a rock.

Marisa came to the door, "Oh my god. I get it now."

"I'm not sure-"

"Laney, you love him."

"What?"

"I'm friends with a girl in love with Justin Timberlake."

"Half the girls in our building are goo-goo over the love-crazed troubadour," I countered.

"This is so…so…Billy and Allison from Melrose Place!"

I turned the spigot on the sink and glared at Marisa, "What?" I had a feeling I was just insulted.

Marisa jumped up and down, pointing at me with this ridiculous leer. "Billy and Allison were best friends and roommates…and they were both so scared of ruining the good thing that they had that they almost didn't get together. Then that bitch Amanda came along and Billy fell under the vixen's spell all because she was Heather Locklear and really beautiful, and of course that was when Allison started to realize her feelings for Billy, but it was too late. So they're both like acting clueless until Billy finally came to terms with his feelings for Allison, but by then she was dating a guy who would later turn into a stalker…"

"Marisa, what does this-"

Marisa kept on going, "So he dumped the bitch Amanda and tried to stop Allison from moving to Seattle with Keith but-"

Yep, I was definitely insulted and getting a migraine. I brushed past my roommate and said, "I'll take your word for it."

"Learn from their mistakes, dude. Don't let love pass you by."

"Didn't Billy and Allison end up getting together only to break up later?'

"Duh. Of course. It was a nighttime soap. If they had stayed together, that would've been boring."

I removed Justin's tape from my stereo and put it with this tape of whale noises that Marisa had bought for me during her new age phase in February. I removed my books from her bed and said, "I'm going to head to the library to study for a bit."

"Laney, what he did for you was adorable! If a guy did that for me, I would be planning my happily ever after."

I rolled my eyes. Marisa had once told me how she showed up at her ex-boyfriend's house dressed only in gift-wrapping with a note that said, "open me." I wasn't sure that she was someone I wanted to take love advice from. Maybe it was time to consider setting Justin up with my roommate. They were perfect for each other. They could constantly try to outdo each other with frightening displays of love until it ended badly.

I could almost imagine a headline from the New York Times a few months into this "relationship" between the two. It would read 'Man Falls to His Death from Empire States Building on Valentine's Day' with an article that detailed Justin's romantic demise in great lengths as if it were a Greek tragedy.

Nsync member (because that is who he is foremost. Like some people are mom and dad…Justin is Nsync member), Justin Timberlake, fell to his death on Valentine's Day while awaiting his girlfriend for a romantic evening. Unfortunately Marisa D'Antonio's gift of two white doves carrying promise rings escaped from their cages after being forced to endure the horrible sounds of the mariachi band D'Antonio had hired for the evening. Timberlake was taken by surprise when one of the doves flew into his hair and tried to nest. He was further surprised by the maintenance man's mop that whacked him in the face trying to free him from the Dove's claws. Sadly, one of the blows sent him careening over the ledge. Friends and fans alike will mourn the loss of this pop icon whose preposterous predilection for romance will always be remembered instead of any musical achievement whatsoever.

I always warned Justin that his quixotic temperament would kill him. And it looked like my roommate would too. So there went that idea. I couldn't set Justin up with Marisa. It would only lead to tears and, if anyone was going to have the pleasure of murdering Justin Timberlake, it deserved to be me.

Not to mention, the idea nauseated me. No, Justin definitely wasn't allowed to date my roommate.

Of course she didn't want me to date her roommate. Laney Jane wanted me all to herself.

Right, sure I did.

Admit it. If you can't admit that you loved the package, adored the song, and wished I had been there to kiss-

Kiss? More like stab to death with a plastic fork.

Deny, deny, deny. It won't do you any good. I knew all the right things to send you and I'm sure you were a quivering mass of love (Something I once saw in one of Britney's romance novels) for me.

God, I was so good I scared myself. I was the man, the master, and the future receiver of all things deemed pleasurable in a relationship with Laney Jane Stanton.

Oh and Dana helped out a bit too. I did improve my chances by having a girl's input, one that actually thought a lot like Laney, on what I should do. Less was definitely more. I decided on one big package that represented everything she was to me and what we were to each other. I wasn't Laney, but I would have been so moved by the thought and care in the gift that I'd show up at her door and give in to our destiny.

But I couldn't focus on that. I was on to bigger and better. The finale on my Project Win Laney was fast approaching (two days) and there still a few things I needed to do between rehearsals at Lakeland. I managed to avoid freaking out about all the possible disasters that could come out of this. I wouldn't think about how I agreed to walk away if Laney dug her heels in or how Spencer had some big birthday plans for Laney too.

I had the in. I had Dana on my side, and thanks to Lance's dinner and friendly alliance with Steph, I managed to find out that Laney definitely loved the box of goodies I sent to her. Laney also admitted to Steph that she wasn't as mad at me anymore. Sure she left out certain details like why I had sent the box and how she was about to acknowledge her undying love for me, but she confessed that she loved the box. Please note that she did not say liked or enjoyed the box, but that she loved the fucking box.

Do you know what that meant? While she was studying and eating the Gummy Savers that I sent her, she was thinking of me. While she was sleeping with her new pillowcase, she would inhale my familiar cologne smell (Joey told me that girls love to smell their boyfriends when they're not around. I figured it was worth a shot.). When she burned the embarrassing photos of us (like I prayed she did), her heart would be pounding with adoration for yours truly.

I was off to a great start and no amount of lectures from Johnny to be nicer to Spencer or grueling dance rehearsals could ruin that for me. I was like a professional athlete coming off a big win in an important game. I was high on the rush of success and pride. Laney Jane was going to be mine and I had two days to make sure that everything fell into place.

Dana was taking care of the how it would happen, making sure that I would be able to get to Laney (since I was pretty sure the girl was still avoiding me). Steph was the back up in case Dana failed in her mission and responsible for major talk-ups. She had to be careful though because I didn't want to raise too much suspicion and have it turn into an us against them situation where Laney thought the only person she could turn to was Spencer. That was too Romance Channel for even my liking.

The guys offered their full support and had become my cheering section and even stranger, Britney had been the one to suggest that I utilize the movies when I finally saw Laney again. But this was up to me. I had to be the one to get through to Laney. I had to turn around the fact that she knew my history so well and work it in my benefit. That was what I was still tinkering with…what I liked to refer to as the "problem areas."

Problem Area One: I couldn't make light of Laney's insecurities or dislike for the spotlight on my life, but at the same time I couldn't play into them too much. She needed to learn to deal with it-a familiar argument we had been dealing with since we were fifteen-and realize that those people didn't matter. The nice fans were great, but I had no time for the nasty ones and neither should she. Easier said then done and wording would be the deciding factor.

Problem Area Two: Past girls. If I could somehow create some sort of serum that rendered Laney's memory incapable of remembering anything but her and me over the past eight years, I would have paid a million dollars for it. This was going to be a major point. Laney knew my history with girls-meaning she knew my attention deficit problem. I had to convince her that this was not some elaborate need for me to always have someone, but that she was always there and I never noticed that was all I needed. Following?
Then, once I had her under my charming spell, I had to make sure that names like Kylie, Jessica, or even Britney played into this situation only when I wanted them to. Sure, no girl likes mention of ex-girlfriends, but Laney was going to bring them up as a convenient excuse. She was going to try to get me off the topic at hand by flinging insults about my past mistakes. I could not, should not, and would not be influenced by her diversions. I'd somehow turn it around in my favor. I'd be the one to bring up the ex-girlfriends and cut her off at the pass. I would just handle it by mentioning my ex-girlfriends and how they never compared to Laney Jane. Laney was always the girl I wanted to be with. I just didn't realize it. Laney's heart would melt and problem solved if I treaded carefully. (Note: Chris wanted it on the record that he was against any and all mention of ex-girlfriends in any context whatsoever.)

Laney Jane had no idea what she was dealing with. People thought she was stubborn? Anything she could do, I could do better. This wasn't another one of our disagreements. This was a competition.

And no one was a worse loser than me, so I made it a habit not to lose.

I was not going to lose.

Laney Jane, your heart was mine.

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Chapter Nineteen

nsync stories