Tuesday, November 28, 2000

Justin pressed his face into the pillow and suppressed a groan. He pried one eyelid open by sheer will power and glared at the large red numbers on the clock by his bedside.

5:33

Not cool. It was only ten minutes since he’d last looked and that had only been seventeen minutes since the previous time, which had only been, well, he’d forgotten how many minutes since the previous time, but not enough.

Justin raised his head off the pillow and face planted back into the firm cushion. The pressure on his nose was somehow reassuring. Unfortunately it meant that he was actually awake and this wasn’t part of some really awful dream.

He groaned out loud, all desire to be quiet and ‘sleep like’ leaving him. If he had to be awake and miserable he was going to be vocal about it. Lifting his face out of the pillow he looked at the clock again.

5:35

It was getting ridiculous. That was about the only thing he was sure of. Frustrated he finally pushed himself off the bed and walked over to his desk. He grabbed the sweatshirt off the chair and pulled it on, cuddling into it, shielding himself from the frigid air.

He sat on the chair and opened the bound book that had been resting on the corner of the desk. He picked up the already uncapped pen. The cap had disappeared underneath the desk and he was too lazy to fish it out.

It’s way too fucking early in the morning for me to be up and about. That much I’m sure about. That’s about the only thing I’m sure about. Why am I doing this again?

Today is the first game. I don’t know why I thought playing on the team would be fun. I mean it’s always been one of those things that I’ve wanted to do, but I’m at my wit’s end. It’s going to be just like going on stage every night. I’m going insane.

I want to run again. I really, really, really don’t want to play in this game today. I don’t have the confidence in my abilities. It’s like with the guys I knew the fans would scream no matter what. Now, I know they’re going to be disappointed. They have this mistaken impression that I’m this super player who’s going to turn the team around. It should be a good team. With eight returning players? Teams dream of having that luck. I feel like I’m the weak link. I’m the one who hasn’t known everyone since I was old enough to walk. I’m supposed to be the one who holds the team together. That’s what Coach said. "The Glue."

Why can’t I just be the follower for once? I want to be the one who blends into the background. I don’t want to be their leader. I don’t want to be the one that everyone’s watching tonight. I just want to be Justin.

Why can’t I escape the spotlight? That’s all I’ve wanted to do here.

It’s like the only times I really feel normal are with Maggie and Stu. I would have run already if it weren’t for them.

It’s not just that I think, no, I know that the entire town will be judging me tonight. They’re going to be judging Coach too. It was his choice to put me, the inexperienced player in at point-guard. This’ll look bad for him and me.

Oh well, maybe if we lose I won’t be the golden boy anymore. That could only be a good thing, right?

There was a light knock on Justin’s door. He looked at the clock confused.

6:02

"Yeah?" he called. He looked at the door curiously.

"Are you okay Randy?" Cathy said as she opened the door. "I thought I heard some movement up here."

"Yeah," Justin said. He smiled sadly. That was something he’d always wished his own mother would do— know when he needed her.

"Are you sure?" Cathy looked at him in a motherly way that said she knew otherwise.

Justin shrugged. The stress was suddenly welling up and he didn’t think that he could speak without his voice cracking.

"Are you nervous about tonight?" Cathy asked walking over to him.

Justin could only nod. Scared shitless was more like it.

"You’ll do fine Randy," Cathy said. "I’ve heard nothing but good things about your playing from the other guys and the Coach."

Justin nodded again. He looked up at Cathy. "It’s just that this’ll be my first competitive game, you know?"

Cathy nodded. "I remember Josh before his first game freshman year. He was in the bathroom for about an hour before the game began. He didn’t even get to play."

Justin couldn’t help but smile at the image of Josh being nervous. It seemed like basketball would be second nature to him now.

"We’ll all be there supporting you tonight," Cathy said. "Remember, its not just you out there. Your team is out there too."

Justin nodded. He looked back down at the floor. He really wanted a hug.

"Come here Randy," Cathy said opening her arms up for the boy.

Justin got up from his chair and walked into the smaller woman’s arms. She wrapped her arms around him and he clung to her tightly.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d hugged his own mother.

"You guys are going to win tonight," Cathy said. "I’m sure of it."

"Thanks," Justin said quietly.

Nothing could have prepared Justin for the scene that awaited him when he walked into the school foyer. There wasn’t an inch of wall space that wasn’t covered by red, white or a picture of a basketball. A huge sign in the entryway declared a pep rally would be happening at 2:30.

Justin wanted to tear it down. He just wanted to play the game.

"Good luck Randy," a random senior girl said as she passed Justin. He hadn’t talked to her before in his life.

He’d tried to say thanks to everyone who’d wished him luck but he’d soon changed to nodding his head to everyone he passed in the hallway way. His neck was beginning to feel like it was a spring.

He managed to peel the signs off of his locker without ripping any of them. They immediately went on the top shelf out of the way. The way the rest of the school was decorated he was sure the signs would be replaced by the end of the next class. He grabbed his books and closed the metal door.

It seemed to take longer than ever for him to make his way through the crowded hallways to his first classroom. He sank into his seat beside Maggie only to see her staring stonily ahead.

"You okay?" Justin asked. She’d been fine at breakfast and on the way to school.

"Oh yeah," Maggie said sarcastically. "I just had a little run in with Laura. No big deal."

Justin groaned. He’d almost forgotten about Laura. "What’d she say?"

"It’s not important," Maggie said with a fake smile.

Justin was about to protest when Ms. Lark called the class to order.

Justin began to peel the signs off of his locker for the fourth time that day. He didn’t mind the decoration if they just wouldn’t tape over the edges of the door.

"Hey Randy," a girl’s voice came from beside him.

Justin closed his eyes and plastered a fake smile over his features.

"Laura," he said. He eyed her warily. She was dressed in the tight cheerleader uniform and she had a plate of cookies in her hand.

"I just wanted to wish you good luck," she said with a flirtatious smile.

"Thanks," Justin said. He turned back to the locker.

"These are for you. I made them myself." Laura said. She handed him the plate of cookies.

"Thanks," Justin said tiredly. "You really didn’t have to."

"Oh but I did," Laura said. She smiled widely. "You’re my player for the season so it’s my job to keep you pumped."

"Great," Justin said. "I’m sure I won’t have any problems staying enthused."

"That’s the idea," Laura said. "Did you like the decorations? There’s lots more where they came from."

Justin looked at the sign he held crumpled in his hand. "Yeah, they’re … great. I’ll have to take them home and put them on my wall."

The bell rang suddenly.

"Well, I’ve got to go to class," Laura said with a bounce. "Do you like peanut butter cookies?"

Justin nodded, unsure of what to say.

"Good! I’ll bring you some before the next game."

With that she was gone down the hall.

Justin dribbled the ball lazily between his hands. It was the only way he was keeping himself from running screaming out of the gym. His uniform was too new. It didn’t have that comfortable worn in feel that the rest of the guy’s uniforms seemed to have. The number 39 was sticky to the touch as were the red plastic letters of his name: Smith. The white nylon rustled with his every movement.

The ball bounced back and forth in front of him. He was staring at nothing in the distance. Suddenly a hand came out of no where and stole the ball mid bounce.

"What the—?" Justin looked at Stu who had a shit-eating grin on his face. "Bastard."

"Where were you dude?" Stu asked. "Cause it sure as hell wasn’t in Mill Creek."

"I was just spacing," Justin said. He looked towards the door. He could hear the sounds of the students yelling cheers in the gym. "So we just go show off?"

Stu nodded. "Get used to it. There’s nothing the students here love more than a pep rally."

"Great," Justin said.

"And now," a voice said over a loud speaker. "Your varsity basketball team! Number 16: Stuart Cross…"

Stu took out the door running. His ball was flying in front of his feet.

"…number 26 Matt Jones…" Matt grinned at the rest of the guys and followed Stu on to the floor.

"…number 31 Brent Fullman…" Brent took the ball from Justin and pushed open the door. Cheers greeted him as he ran onto the court.

"…number 39 Randy Smith…" Justin swallowed over the lump that had suddenly grown in his throat. This was it. He ran onto the floor and for a moment felt terrified. The stands were filled with students, maybe 150 of them. The yelling and screaming and cheering filled the gym completely. He felt himself break into a sweat and his brain began to lose its focus.

And then he realized something. He’d performed in front of over a million people in the past year. He’d performed in front of 60 thousand people in Los Angeles. He’d done a live HBO special where their performance would be broadcast around the world. Yet here he was sweating a simple basketball drill.

It should have been cake. It was cake. And it was making him feel sick to his stomach.

He suddenly saw a ball come flying at his hands. He instinctively grabbed it and tossed it to the guy behind him. The nine guys began to form a snake circling inwards. Another ball came flying at him. He tossed it into the air as they ran in a tighter and tighter circle. The balls flew and were grabbed. The cheering in the stands echoed around the gym.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the voice announced. "I proudly bring you Mill Creeks 2000- 2001 Varsity Basketball team."

The cheers became ear shattering.

Justin suddenly wished he were back on stage where the lights blinded him to the crowd.

But only for a moment.

Justin paced his room in the Hunter house. It was 8 paces one direction, 5 the other. He’d counted 20 times each way. He was nervous. It was a good thing and he knew it, because the days he wasn’t nervous were the days he screwed up royally on stage.

But he hadn’t been this nervous in a very long time. He was nervous to the point of wanting to throw up. It was the same nerves that he’d experienced when he went on Star Search, when they’d performed that first time in front of that middle school, when they’d opened that first night for Janet and when they’d sold out their first show.

It wasn’t a feeling he liked because it was spiraling. He had never been able to calm himself down. That’s why he’d screwed up on Star Search. There had only ever been one person who could calm him down. JC. He couldn’t talk to JC now and that made everything worse.

Justin sat down on the bed and immediately got back up.

"I’ve got to get out of here."

He pulled on a jacket and his stocking cap and walked out of his room. He saw Maggie staring at him through her open door. She was lying on her bed reading a book.

"I’m going for a walk," he explained.

Maggie nodded. "Do you want company?"

Justin shook his head. "I’ve got to go sort some thoughts out."

Maggie nodded again, but Justin could have sworn he saw a slightly hurt look on her face. He couldn’t worry about that now.

He hurried down the stairs and let the door close loudly behind him. The crunch of the grass beneath his feet was a salve to his frazzled nerves, but the cold air only put him more on edge.

He started down Main Street. He walked past the diner and the barbershop. He walked past the library and the bank.

"I want to talk to Josh," Justin mumbled under his breath. "But I can’t."

He walked a few more steps. "But why can’t I?"

"Because they’ll find you."

It was lucky that he was alone on the country road to carry on the vocal conversation with himself.

"I just want to hear his voice. It’s the only thing that will calm me down."

"But they’ll find you."

"Does it really matter if they do?"

"Yes! I don’t want to be found. I’d have to leave my life here."

"But you want to call."

"Yes."

"So do it."

Justin began walking towards town again. The inner debate was still raging.

"Do I call?"

"Yes."

He saw a payphone. That would have more anonymity. He could have been just passing through.

With a deep breath he walked into the booth and pulled the door shut. He picked up the cold black plastic phone and inserted a dollars worth of change that happened to be in his coat pocket.

He dialed the number he still knew by heart.

It rang three times.

JC’s Apartment, Orlando FL

JC pushed to door to his apartment open. He’d heard the phone start ringing and he raced over to it as it hit the third ring.

"Hello?" he asked.

There was no answer. He heard the sounds of a car passing in the background. There was the crackle of long distance.

"Hello?" he asked again. Someone was breathing by the phone, not into it, but by it. "Who is this?"

Lance had followed JC into the apartment. He was looking at his friend with an odd expression.

"Justin?" JC asked suddenly. "Justin? Is that you bro? Talk to me."

The only thing that met his ear was a dial tone.

"It was Justin?" Lance asked. His voice held hope for the first time in days.

JC shrugged. "They hung up. Didn’t say anything."

"Do you think it was Justin?"

JC nodded.

Justin hung up the phone quickly and choked back a sob. His eyes were burning and his brain was still whirling. He’d been right about one thing though. JC’s voice had the same calming effect it always did. Even though he’d only heard under 15 words he felt better.

Or maybe JC’s voice had just shifted his mind to other things.

The sound was comforting in a way. Behind the heavy locker room doors the nine guys could hear the yelling, screaming and the buzz of general chatter.

Justin was sitting on one of the hard wooden benches. The other eight guys were walking around, jumping up and down and in general releasing pent up nervous energy.

"You nervous?" Stu asked as he sat down next to Justin.

Justin shrugged. He looked over at Stu. "Yeah."

"Why?" Stu asked. He was staring at Justin intently. "Didn’t a lot more people go to the… games… at your last school?"

Justin narrowed his eyes slightly. "Yeah," he said with a confused look on his face. "But I’ve never played in front of them before."

Stu nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. Justin felt his blood run cold.

"You’re going to do fine," Stu said clapping Justin on the back. "We’re going to win. I can feel it."

Justin nodded again. "I really, really hope so."

The sounds of balls bouncing could be heard through the doors. Coach walked into the locker room and the guys huddled around him.

"Remember guys, it’s not about winning, but practicing what we’ve been doing in practice. That’s what’s going to get us to the top. Now let’s go out there and show them what Mill Creek is made of."

The guys burst through the door as the first strains of "We will rock you" could be heard. Justin wasn’t familiar with the warm-up routine so he was glad he was near the back of the line. It was just like a show.

Now if he’d only remembered to bring his hackey sack.

"I never thought I’d see you at another basketball game again," Emily said as she showed her student ID card to the school’s secretary.

"Randy asked me to come," Maggie said. She shrugged her shoulders. "He’s really nervous. I thought I’d come support him tonight."

"Uh-huh, sure." Emily nodded with a smile on her face. "You just thought you’d come support him a long with the other fifty Randy Smith fans."

"I’m not a Randy Smith fan," Maggie said as she sat down. She glared at her best friend. "He’s just my friend. And he’s living at my house…" she trailed off. "Why won’t you believe he’s only my friend?"

"Because you don’t believe it," Emily said. "I’m not stupid Mag. I’ve been your best friend for the last six years. I know when you have crushes and your ways of denying them. Remember Josh?"

"Let’s not talk about him okay?" Maggie said. She turned her eyes to the court and watched as Justin went up for a lay up. His muscles rippled as he left the ground. A small smile came to her face.

Emily poked her in the side of the arm.

"Oww!" Maggie hissed as she rubbed her arm. "What was that for?"

"Tell me you weren’t drooling over Randy right then."

Maggie looked into Emily’s eyes. "I wasn’t drooling over Randy right then. I was drooling over, um…" she turned her eyes back to the court. Stu ran to the basket. "Stu."

"You have got it so bad!" Emily said. She was nearly doubled over on the bleacher from laughing. "Just stop denying it girl."

Maggie sighed and shook her head. "We’re just touchy friends. That’s it."

Emily smiled widely. "Again I say, uh-huh, sure."

Justin felt himself relaxing. It was just like Coach had said. Him, the ball and the other eight guys on his team. Well, and the twelve men playing at the other end of the court.

But they were the enemy; they were meant to be conquered. He didn’t need to think about them— just the ball and his teammates and the basket.

Stu threw the ball at Justin and Justin caught it, running toward the basket for an easy lay up. Kevin rebounded the ball and Justin ran to the back of the rebounding line. His eyes traveled around the gym scanning the stands for Cathy and Bob.

He saw a head of bright red hair. The girl sitting next to Emily shouldn’t have been there. She’d said she wasn’t going to come. Yet there she was.

Justin saw Stu start towards the basket and suddenly realized that he was supposed to be rebounding. He took off toward the basket, easily grabbing the ball as it swooshed through the net. He tossed it to Kevin who began running toward the basket.

The buzzer echoed through the gym and the players all headed toward their respective benches.

"We can do this guys," Coach said before he bent over his play board. "Matt, you take the tip off. Get the ball to Randy as fast as possible. This is a slow team. They like to keep the game moving at an even pace. We need to run and get ahead as fast as possible."

Justin nodded. He knew that the last comment was directed at him. He was in charge of the pace. He could speed it up or slow it down. It was just going to be like the beginning of their show. All the faced paced songs while they still had energy.

Justin stuck his fist into the center. The eight other players followed suit putting their hands on top of his fist. "Go, go, go, go, go, go, go!" Their hands flew up and the five guys took the floor.

Justin looked down at the red circle on the floor. This was it. It was another stop on his roller coaster of emotions for the last month. What had been a sick feeling, a desire to run, had been replaced with the adrenaline rush of excitement that he always got before a show. He wanted to be here. He wanted to be a high school star.

He didn’t even mind seeing the number 39 painted on fifty girls’ arms.

"Come on Randy," Maggie whispered. It was the middle of the second quarter and Mill Creek was behind by ten. The other team was in control of the game. They believed in slow and steady and that’s what the game was— a slow and steady increase in the other teams points.

"Go Mill Creek!" Maggie yelled loudly. Emily looked over at her friend with an amused look on her face before echoing with a cry of her own.

Justin dribbled the ball down the court slowly, thinking of what he needed to do. That was what the other team wanted. Their guard immediately batted the ball away and went running down the court.

Justin couldn’t stop him.

Twelve points.

As soon as Justin got his hands on the ball he made the universal sign for time out.

He needed more than a time out. He needed out of the game. He needed to become someone else who knew how to play competitive basketball.

"I can’t do this," he said as he walked up to the coach.

Coach sat him down on the bench and handed him a small cup of water. Justin gulped it down.

"You need to speed it up Randy. You know how to play. You just need to trust yourself. You need to trust your teammates. They’ve been there for you in practice and they will be there now."

Justin looked back out at the court. It was a lot easier for the coach to say than for him to actually do. How could he trust himself when he’d never done this before? He knew he could trust his teammates, but how could they trust him? He was the one that ran when things got tough.

"It’s just a game Randy," Coach continued. "It’s not life or death, you aren’t going to be doing this the rest of your life. It’s a game that you’re supposed to have fun playing. Go out there and have fun."

Justin couldn’t help but smile. That was what JC had always told him. ‘Go out and have fun. That’s why we’re doing this.’ Of course he hadn’t listened to JC in the end, had he?

Justin nodded and got off the bench. He could do this. Really he could.

Stu stood outside the court and tossed the ball in bounds. Justin caught it and immediately took off running. He had to trust that the guys would be where they should be. His defender was running to catch up.

Justin suddenly saw an amazing thing. There was a straight path to the basket. He heard the feet running after him as he took off down the wide-open lane. He felt his feet push off the floor and he saw the ball leave his hands. The swoosh of the net was loud in his ears.

The cheers of the crowd were louder.

The gym was empty when Justin left the locker room. After the stunning 13 point win Justin had found himself surrounded by people patting him on the back, congratulating him and telling him how wonderful it was that he was on the team.

Half of the lights had been turned out and the gym was filled with dusky light. He was heading for the doors when a lone figure sitting on the bleachers caught his eye.

"I thought you didn’t watch basketball."

Maggie carefully made her way down the bleachers.

"I don’t."

"Yet here you are." Justin put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. He left it there as they started to walk out of the gym.

"Hey, I didn’t go out either, remember?" Maggie cuddled into his side slightly.

Justin laughed. It felt good to laugh. He’d been too serious the past few days.

"What do you say we go celebrate?" Justin asked as he dropped his arm. They’d exited the gym.

"Celebrate? It’s a school night Randy."

"Just a piece of pie," Justin said with a smile. "Please… it’ll be my treat."

"Well, if you’re paying…" Maggie skipped forward a few steps as they began the trek down Main Street. She turned around to look at him. "You know I was getting sort of worried there for awhile tonight."

Justin caught up to her and turned her back around with his arm. "You were worried…? I was worried."

Maggie laughed. "I had faith that you’d pull it together though."

Justin gave her another squeeze. "I’m glad one of us did."

Scratch everything I said earlier about being right back in the spotlight. This is completely different. We won! I didn’t say that already did I? No, I didn’t.

Well we did! We won!

So why is this different? It feels like I’m actually doing good here. I mean, you should have seen the faces of everyone when we won! The students stormed the court, the parents were glowing. It was like Christmas for them. I’m glad I was able to help with that.

I finally pulled my act together. It was a disaster for the first half. Absolute chaos… well, not chaos, but not good basketball. I mean Coach told me to speed the game up before we even started, but I was thinking about everything. Can’t do that. Don’t think Randy. Don’t think.

Justin stopped. He’d just written Randy. The smile fell off his face.

You know, I came here to be me. And I think I am being me. It was me who was part of the team that won that game tonight.

We won!

I stopped thinking and just went out and had fun. Sort of like I do, did, on stage. Just go out and have fun.

Let’s just hope this stays fun.

Justin closed the book and put it in the top drawer of his desk. He was still flying high, but he could feel himself starting to come down slightly.

He went and lay down on the bed. The adrenaline in his veins was not conducive to lying still, but somehow he was managing it.

He didn’t know how long he was going to be staying in Mill Creek, but at this moment he was sure of one thing. If he could repeat this feeling with every game he played, he wanted to stay for as long as he could.