Monday, February 12, 2001

The running shoes of ten teenagers squeaked, skidding to a halt on the glossed boards as Coach blew his whistle signaling the end of the practice.

"Good job, guys," he said.

Justin headed over to the bleacher bench to collect his shirt and water bottle. He’d just started for the locker room when he heard Coach call his name.

"Randy," Coach said. "Can I talk to you for a few moments?"

"Yeah, sure," Justin said. He walked back across the gym. "What’s up?"

"I just wanted to remind you to watch yourself tomorrow," Coach said. "This is the team that got you into foul trouble, if you remember, and we can’t afford to have that happen again."

Justin nodded. "I know, Coach."

"Just watch yourself and be careful, okay," Coach said. "Make sure you’re on top of your game."

"I will be," Justin said. He smiled what he hoped was a trustworthy smile. "Don’t worry."

"So," Justin said as he lay across Maggie’s bed. "Wednesday’s Valentine's Day."

"Yeah," Maggie said.

"Are we going to do anything?" Justin asked.

"If you want to," Maggie said. She blushed. "I’d like to."

"Will you leave it up to me?" Justin asked. "I promise you’ll like it."

"Of course I will," Maggie said. "Unless it’s like, Monster Truck Racing, or something."

"Damn," Justin said with a small grin. "There goes that idea."

"Jerk," Maggie said. She laughed and slapped him lightly on the arm.

Tuesday, February 13, 2001

"Okay, men," Coach said. He paced the floor by the bench in the locker room. "This is a good team, as we know from the last time we played them, but we. are. better."

"Yeah," the ten players growled.

"Whose house is this?" Coach asked.

"Ours!" the ten men yelled.

"And what are we?" Coach asked.

"The best!" the ten men yelled. "We are number one!" Several guys forced one outstretched finger into the air.

"That’s what I’m talking about," Coach said. "Let’s go out there and show this team who’s the boss."

"Yeah!" The ten men stood up and formed a huddle, sticking their hands into the center. "Go! Go! Go! Go!"

They ran towards the doors of the locker room and pushed them open, moving onto the court in a triumphant looking line. They ran around the perimeter of the court as the Mill Creek fans stood up and loudly showed their support.

"One!" the cheerleaders shouted, bouncing up and down in front of the stands. "We are the Mustangs! Two! Just a little bit louder! Three! We still can’t hear you! We are number one!"

The crowd quickly picked up the cheer.

Matt leaned over to Justin as they did their stretching in the center of the court. "We’re so going to take this tonight."

"Yeah," Justin said. He grinned and raised his voice to a falsetto. "Cause we are number one!"

The first clue that Justin had that his game wasn’t at his peak level was when he passed the ball and it flew directly by Matt and into the hands of the opposing player.

The clue that tipped him off to the entire Mill Creek team not being on top of their game was when he looked at the scoreboard and saw a ten-point difference at the end of the first quarter.

It quickly became a 12-point difference as Justin watched the opposing player--the one he’d passed the ball to--take the ball all the way down the court. Unopposed.

He looked to the bench and saw Coach frantically moving his hands in the ‘T’ formation, signaling a time out.

Stu passed the ball in bounds to Justin, who caught it and made the same time out motion with his hands.

"Time out Mustangs!" Travis said, the microphone magnifying his voice to a near booming level.

The five Mill Creek Players ran down the court to their bench, watching the precious seconds tick down on the time out clock. They formed a tight huddle with Coach.

"Randy," Coach said. "Make eye contact with whomever you’re passing to. Make sure they know the ball is going to them."

"Yeah, Coach," Justin said.

"Kevin, Brent," Coach said. "Switch places down there. Kevin, I want you out in post trying to make sure that they don’t shoot too often."

Coach turned to Josh. "I want you to shoot, shoot, shoot. But shoot smartly. If you have a shot, take it."

Josh nodded.

The buzzer sounded, signaling the ending of the time out, and the five players ran back out onto the court amidst cheers from their fans.

"You guys are playing like shit," Coach said as he paced the locker room during half time. "We’re lucky that we’re only behind by ten points still. If we’re going to win this game we’ve got to clean up our act."

The ten players nodded.

"This is our house," Coach said. "We aren’t going to let them beat us in our own house."

"No!" the ten players shouted, but it wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic a yell as before the game.

"I have faith in you guys," Coach said. "I have faith that you guys can pull it together."

Before Justin made his way back onto the court, he turned around and saw Coach clasping his hands together as if in prayer.

"Can’t you stop this?" Justin asked as he jogged next to Josh down the court. "Please tell me you’ve got some plan up your sleeve."

"Jerseys don’t have sleeves," Josh said. He glared at Justin. "How come I’m supposed to be the one to stop this?"

"Because you’re shooter of this team and I don’t know what to do," Justin snapped. "I can’t stop that guy from getting around me."

Josh seemed to breathe in deeply. "I think the most we can do is try to cut down their lead," he said.

"What do you think we’ve been trying to do?" Justin asked. "I thought that that was the game plan."

The buzzer signaling the end of the fourth quarter rang. For the first time during the season the Mill Creek fans were shocked speechless.

Justin stared at the scoreboard, blinking slowly.

Home: 44
Visitor: 52
Time: 00:00

"Well," Stu said from behind Justin’s right shoulder. "I guess fairy tales can’t last forever."

Justin turned to Stu and swallowed. "No, you’re right. I guess they can’t."

The locker room was nearly silent as the ten men sat on the wooden benches. The only sounds were the rustles of fabric as they were changing out of their uniforms.

"You guys did shit out there tonight," Coach said.

The ten players remained silent.

"That was inexcusable," Coach said. "Completely inexcusable. I’m glad we lost, because if we’d won playing that terribly, well, I’d resign."

More silence.

"You all are going to have a week to get back on track," Coach said. "We play Parker in one week and that game, unlike this one, will count for something."

Justin only looked up when Coach had left the locker room.

Justin slammed the door of his room, hearing the walls of his bedroom shake from the impact.

"Fuck," he hissed quietly. "Fuck that shit."

His fists clenched and unclenched as he stood in the center of the room. His breath was ragged and his blood pounded in his ears.

"Fuck," he said for what seemed like the millionth time since the end of the game. He felt his short nails digging small crescents into the centers of the palms of his hands.

He looked around his room before finally stomping towards the bed and throwing himself down on the cushioned surface. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He dug his right hand underneath one of the pillows and pulled his journal out, grabbing his pen with the other.

February 13, 2001

We just lost the fucking basketball game. I didn’t think lose was in our vocabulary. We sucked it up tonight. How the *hell* did that happen. We are Mill Creek. We don’t lose. Their team’s not even that good.

Grrrrrrrrrrr They were so joyful and bouncy and…. I just want to go bash all of their smirking faces in.

Oh, good, Smith, that was mature.

Fuck.

Isn’t the reason that I’m staying so that I can help Mill Creek go all the way? We were so clearly better than the rest of the teams in this league… until now. What if this game is an omen of things to come?

I want to say it’s just one loss, but it’s not. It was our home, too. Everyone in town looked so awful. They’re counting on us starting the State run, at the very least. A few more performances like that and we’ll go down in Mill Creek history as the team they thought could go all the way, but ended up just being as unmemorable as the rest.

Justin looked up from the book not feeling any better. His eyes rested on the computer sitting across the room from him.

"Hell," he said quietly, "my day couldn’t get any worse."

He stood up, leaving the journal open on the bed, and walked across the room. Two minutes later the computer was booted up and he was typing his password into the prompted spaces.

"Only one message?" he asked quietly as the mail program logged him in. "They’re learning."

He opened his inbox and felt his stomach heave when he saw the message was from Britney.

His fingers felt shaky on the keys as he opened the message.

"Dear Justin," he read quietly. "Hey! How’s it going? I’m sorry I didn’t write you a note on your birthday. Here I’m trying to prove to you that I can be the friend you need and I don’t acknowledge your birthday.

"JC mentioned today that you’d be back in three and a half weeks. I’m sure the guys say this all the time, but honestly, Justin, I can’t wait for you to come back. I didn’t appreciate you enough when you were here. I’m not going to let you disappear on me again, okay?

"JC, the rest of the guys, and I went out to a club on Monday. I know, partying it up on a Monday! Woohoo! It was fun though. I haven’t spent too much time with any of them since… Yeah.

"Anyway, I hope you’re really as happy as you think you are, J, and not just telling yourself you are. Hugs. B "

Justin read the message over again, silently. "Three and a half weeks?" he asked. He looked upwards to the calendar. "That’s too soon." He began counting days with his eyes. "Nineteen days." His breath and his heart stopped for a split second. "That’s only two and a half weeks. Shit."

He closed the window of the computer and moved back to the bed. He picked up the pen and began writing where he left off.

Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse. Do you realize I only have 19 days until of my deadline? March 4 is only 19 days away. And the person to make me discover that information was none other than Britney. Fucking wonderful.

I just need to go to bed and forget that this day ever happened. That’s all I need.

He sighed and burrowed his head into the pillow.

Wednesday, February 14, 2001

Justin stared at the newspaper in front of him on the table. The words and letters had long since blurred together creating a fuzzy tangle of off-white and gray.

"Randy?" Maggie’s voice came from behind him.

"I’m fine, Maggie," Justin said, his voice clipped. The words on the page in front of him suddenly became clear.

"I, um," Maggie seemed to stumble over the words. Suddenly her voice hardened. "I was just going to ask if you were doing talent show practice this afternoon after basketball, but I can tell when I’m not wanted."

Justin closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Mags, I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night. And, yes, I’m going to be over at Josh’s after practice."

"And you aren’t going to tell me what’s wrong, are you," Maggie said. "You’re just going to blame it on sleep this time. I know that’s bull, Randy."

"No," Justin said, feeling his pulse quicken. He turned his head and looked at his girlfriend. "I’ll tell you."

"You will?" Maggie asked. She moved to the dining room table and sat down. "Really?"

Justin nodded. "You deserve to be the first to know." He took a deep breath. "I think I’m going to have to leave a little bit sooner than I’d previously thought."

Maggie paled. "What? When? No."

"Not for awhile," Justin said. "It’s just, I got an email last night, and I, I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to leave before the end of the year."

Maggie blinked. Justin could see tears pooling behind her bottom lids.

"I’m sorry, Mags," Justin said. "You know I’d stay here forever, if I could."

"I know," Maggie said. "But you can’t." She grinned sadly. "I want to be selfish and keep you all to myself sometimes."

"Oh, believe me," Justin said. "I know the feeling."

"What are you two doing tonight?" Emily asked, grinning at Justin and Maggie. She took a bite of her sandwich. "Something sappily romantic?"

"I don’t know," Maggie said. She grinned at Justin. "He won’t tell me."

"Okay," Emily said, "that’s not only sappily romantic, but cute and adorable as well. You two make me sick."

"We try," Justin said, his previously serious look cracking into a smile. "I’m ever striving to be sappier, and romantic-er, and more whipped than anyone ever would have thought possible. Aren’t I sugar-cakes."

"You certainly are, honey-bun," Maggie said, grinning.

"I’m going to throw up," Stu said. He grabbed Emily’s lunch bag. "Give that to me."

"Nuh-uh," Emily said. "That’s my lunch. It’s your fault that you didn’t come suitably prepared."

Justin laughed at Stu’s look of mock shock and outrage, but only one thought was in his mind. Eighteen days.

He immediately sobered.

Justin closed his eyes as he listened to the opening notes of the song. He opened his mouth and his eyes, mouthing the initial "I’m too sexy for my love. Too sexy for my love. Love’s going to leave me."

Justin stepped forward with the rest of the guys, crowding towards the front of the ‘stage’--in reality Josh’s couch--and moved his arms outward in an arc in front of him as the instrumental section of the song started. He spun around on the ball of his foot and shook his hips from side to side.

Four of the teens stepped backwards as Matt took the front of the ‘stage.’

"I’m too sexy for my shirt," Matt sang, running his hands over his white t-shirt. "Too sexy for my shirt. So sexy it hurts."

Matt had started to move back into the formation, but Justin broke out of line and stopped the CD.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "You need to spend equal time on all areas of the stage. You can’t just rush through the left side and meander down the right side."

Matt stared at Justin. "Dude, this is just for fun."

"It’ll be more fun if we do it right," Justin said. He crossed his arms over his chest. "If we don’t do it right then what’s the point of doing it at all."

"It’s not like we’re really a fucking music group," Matt said. "It’s not like we’re flipping ‘N SYNC, or the Backstreet Boys, or hell, whoever the fuck Right Said Fred is. We’re not professional dancers, Randy."

"Neither were they," Justin spat before he could stop himself.

"Randy," Stu said quickly, stepping next to Justin and laying a hand on his shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a moment outside?" He lowered his voice to a nearly conspiratorial stage whisper. "I know you’re taking yesterday’s loss a little hard, but you don’t need to take it out on these guys. I think you need to go get some fresh air and take a few deep breaths."

Justin clenched his fists as he walked towards Josh’s front door.

"Now I see why he doesn’t get up on stage," Justin heard Matt say to Kevin and Josh. "He’d kill anyone who tried to work with him." Justin let the door slam loudly behind him.

Justin took deep breaths of cool air as he stomped across Josh’s lawn.

"Breathe," Stu said. "There’s no point in getting worked up over this."

Justin threw an arm in the direction of Josh’s house. "It looks like *crap*, Stu. They think they can just wander around on the stage stripping off their clothes and the world will fall down at their feet."

"We aren’t professionals," Stu said.

"Neither were we," Justin said. "You have to work hard to look good."

"It’s just a stupid talent show, man," Stu said. "We don’t have to look good."

"I don’t get up on stage and look bad," Justin said. His eyes flashed.

"And we won’t," Stu said. "But we don’t have to be perfect, either. It’ll be funnier if we aren’t."

"Three days," Justin said. "That’s how long we have to work on this song. Do you even know how long we spent choreographing ‘God Must Have Spent…’? And that song is slower than shit."

"Justin," Stu said. "Snap. out. of. it. You spend all of your time telling me that you aren’t—" he lowered his voice, "who you really are, but you can’t see that you are. The Randy Smith you think you are wouldn’t care whether we were slightly out of step on stage, but Justin would and we both know that. My sister’s certainly watched the videos about you guys enough for me to know that you’re a perfectionist."

"I can’t help it," Justin said.

"Yes. You. Can." Stu rested his hands on Justin’s shoulders. "Cause if you don’t, you’re going to slip up even more drastically than you did in there and there’ll be nothing you can do to stop the rest of the world from knowing where you are."

Justin sighed.

"Have you calmed down enough to go back in there?" Stu asked.

Justin nodded.

"I’d suggest an apology," Stu said. "But it’s just a suggestion."

Justin took a deep breath as he and Stu headed up the stairs of Josh’s house. He opened the door and stepped into the room.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I guess I’m taking our loss yesterday a little harder than I’d thought."

"It’s okay," Matt said. He grinned, his cool apparently completely restored. "I know you have this weird obsession with winning everything, and we will win this talent show for you, dude."

"I just want us to look good," Justin said. "Like we could be one of the boy bands or another group, if you know, we could sing and dance for real." He felt Stu glance at him sharply.

"Oh, we’ll be so much better," Matt said. "We’ll be signed and dragged to Orlando as soon as the show’s over."

"Yeah," Justin said with a shaky laugh.

Denver, Colorado

"Jace?" Britney asked, leaning her head on JC’s shoulder. They were sitting on the couch of the green room in the Denver Coliseum. "Has Justin emailed you recently?"

JC shook his head, his chin just brushing Britney’s hair. "We haven’t heard anything from him since Joey’s birthday. Why?"

"Oh," Britney said. "I just sent him an email a few days ago, and I haven’t gotten a response yet. I was just wondering."

"It’s not personal," JC said, "if that’s what you were wondering."

Britney nodded.

"He’s got this severing contact thing, if you hadn’t noticed already," JC said. "That’s all I can really tell you."

"I just wanted to apologize for not emailing him on his birthday," Britney said. "Here I try to prove to him that I can be the friend he needs and I don’t even acknowledge his birthday."

"It’s okay," JC said.

They sighed together.

"So," Maggie said. She turned to look at Justin from the passenger side of the truck. "Where’re we going?"

"You’ll see," Justin said. He spun the wheel of the vehicle and went around the curve of the road. "Just someplace that you said we had to come again."

Maggie stared at Justin for a moment before turning to look out the window again.

"It’s not that exciting," Justin said. "I just wanted to, well, go again before I have to leave."

"You talk like you’re leaving soon," Maggie said. "We have lots of time to do stuff before then ‘cause you said it wouldn’t be for awhile."

Justin nodded. "Of course we do." He spun the steering wheel of the truck again, and pulled off the road and onto a grassy field.

Maggie looked out the front window and saw the tall expanse of white.

"But, Mr. Smith," she said, a grin evident in her voice, "they don’t show movies here in the winter. Isn’t it sort of improper for us to be here?"

"Why, Ms. Hunter," Justin said as he turned the ignition off. "What sort of man do you take me for?" He grinned softly. "Come on, let’s get out."

Maggie opened her door and shivered as she stepped out into the cool air. "It’s cold out here."

"That’s what you’ve got me for," Justin said. He lowered the gate at the back of the truck bed and motioned for Maggie to climb up. He followed after her and sat down on a blanket that he had set out. She sat down between his legs and he wrapped another blanket around them.

"I’m sorry I haven’t been in the best mood today," Justin said. "It’s just that everything converged all at once."

"It happens," Maggie said. She turned around to look at him. "And you told me what was wrong instead of trying to hide it and letting it fester. That meant a lot to me, Randy."

"You mean a lot to me," Justin said. He tightened his grip around her. "I don’t know how I’m going to leave you." He wasn’t sure if he spoke the words out loud.

"You said it yourself," Maggie said. "We knew you’d have to leave eventually and we’ll make it work. I want to make it work."

Justin touched his lips to a spot behind her right ear. He worked his arm out of the cocoon of blankets and grabbed something off to the side of the truck bed.

"Happy Valentines Day," he said as he set the object in Maggie’s lap.

Maggie picked up the small, floppy stuffed dog. "Oh, thank you," she said with a happy sigh. "I have your card in the truck."

"We’ll get it later," Justin said. "I just saw this and thought that you had to have it."

"I did," Maggie said. She cuddled deeper into Justin’s grip and leaned her head back into his shoulder, staring at the stars. "This is perfect, Randy."

"Yeah," Justin said quietly. "It is."