The moment Justin wrapped his arms around me, I was taken back in time. Back to a time that I knew who I was, and where I was going with my life. Back to a time when I wasn’t in a constant state of panic…a time that I slept at night, and I time that Justin and I were inseparable. I wished like hell that it was all real, that everything was changing back to how it once was. But I’m not that stupid, and I knew it was only a matter of moments before my eyes would open and I would be back to square one.

I looked into his eyes that day, and rather than seeing the despondency that had recently taken them over, I saw something else, something I didn’t think he was capable of feeling anymore. I saw that guy I used to know, just for a moment. I saw--I saw heart, and I realized how badly I’d missed Justin. Then that look of fear and concern took over him again, and I was forced back into the reality of it all. I thought he was going to cry again, but he didn’t. He-- smiled at me, and then he said: “Stay, I want you to.”

I didn‘t waste time thinking about my decision. I said yes right away, and continued to let him hold me. Looking back on it now, I know that I made my decision a bit hastily. I know I should have at least discussed my options with Trace before making any final decisions. I don’t know, I guess I was just so hell bent on not letting Justin down, saying yes seemed like the best answer at the time. I didn’t think about the other things I had going on; school, parents, or my career opportunity. Justin took up my entire brain capacity…he was all I wanted, all I needed…and I was too enveloped in him to realize what would inevitably happen once the day was over and I had to face facts.

After we’d calmed down enough to have a civilized conversation, things really started to smooth out between us. We were able to relate to each other again, and for a while, it was almost as if we’d never been separated at all. We got off the subject of Shane’s and Nathan’s for a little while, and started to talk about other things. I got a little bit into school, and what had been going on with Siobhan and the new apartment. He seemed genuinely interested, and wanted to know if I’d gotten any job offers from any of the New York radio stations yet. I decided it was better not to get into the Z100 thing. I knew it wasn’t going to happen since I’d decided to stay, and I knew Justin would feel like he was preventing me from fulfilling my dreams if he knew the truth. So I fibbed a little, and told him I hadn’t heard back from any of the stations I applied to yet. Being ‘Mr. Connections’, he offered to help, and I politely refused; reasoning that the last thing on my mind was school and what I was going to do about a job once I‘d graduated.

Surprisingly, Justin started to talk about his own work. He’s going on tour again, and I was kind of shocked to hear that news. After everything that he’s been through, I didn’t think he would have the strength or desire to face another grueling tour schedule, especially since he’d just finished a winter European tour, and a major US co headliner. I told him he shouldn’t put himself through it, but then he just laughed that familiar laid back laugh of his and told me that if he didn’t do something to get his mind off of ‘having sex with Shane‘, he would probably end up back in the ‘loony bin’, as he put it. He said the tour was going to be good for him, and for Trace too. He said he wanted to reconnect with Trace business wise, because it was key to their friendship‘s survival. He said Trace was still weirded out by everything, even though he’d been trying not to let it show, and that touring, paperwork and hectic schedules were sure fire ways to get him back on track. I almost asked how he could try to get Trace’s life on track if he still hadn’t done that with his own; but I didn’t want to spoil the mood, so I let it go.

We parted ways on good terms. Justin told me that he would really love it if I came back to visit him as much as I could, so we could catch up on our three year gap. It made me smile, knowing that he wanted to discuss more than just what we’d been through. I realized there was a lot more to discuss. I mean, he didn’t’ know anything about my college experience, and I didn’t’ know anything about the details behind his solo project. I left Orange Valley Psychiatric that day in high hopes that we’d started on the road to a new beginning. I figured things were bound to turn around, that Justin and I would go on and live our lives as normally as our situations would allow us to, and have regained our friendship at the same time.

I told Trace about it, and he agreed that things were probably going to change for the better. But he was quick to warn me that it was going to take a long time for Justin to readjust to the outside world. Trace said there were steps everybody was going to have to take with Justin, to help him get back to his old self; and that those steps weren’t going to be easy to focus on with another major tour on the way. Trace seemed bitter about the tour too for some reason, almost like he wished it wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t’ really understand, but how could I? I wasn’t there for all the stuff that happened after the kidnapping. In fact, I hadn’t even seen any of the alleged cuts that Trace told me about. I didn’t dare ask Justin about them, or where they were located, for the fear of conjuring up memories that he wasn’t ready to deal with at the time. The whole ride home, I found that my mind was filling with more questions than I’d originally had about the situation. I thought I understood everything, and Madison seemed to think I did. But Trace was proving me wrong…over and over again…

And that’s when the realization that everything wasn’t all sunshine and smiles, impacted me.

My real wake up call came the following morning. I was sprawled out across the sectional leather sofa in Justin’s family room, still in my pajama’s, causally flicking through the television stations with the remote. Elisha had been out by the pool, perfecting her tan, and I was glad because we still weren’t getting along and I’d been trying to avoid her at all costs. Trace, who had been making an obvious attempt to be the leader and control everything since I’d arrived days before, was in the kitchen cooking up breakfast for the three of us. It was all so normal, and for the first time since I’d arrived in California my mind and body were at ease. So much at ease in fact, I think I might have been able to take a nap if it hadn’t been for the sudden ringing of the phone.

Loud noises have been freaking me out since that night I tried to run from Shane and Nathan. The gun went off, and then I got down on the ground, praying to god that they didn‘t shoot me right then and there. I’d never heard a real gun shot go off before that, but by the end of our endeavor, I’d heard it enough times for the sound to be permanently imbedded into my memory. The first few nights back in the city were harder for me because of this. Every sharp banging sound coming from the outside world, completely freaked me out. Siobhan had to sit up with me a lot that first week, while I begged her to protect me from Shane, Nathan, and their guns. There was one memory in particular that kept replaying itself in my mind. Shane was sitting against that pile of dirt from my would-be grave. He was smiling, and aiming his gun at Justin and I…ready to kill whoever he could before he passed on. Then the gunshot would go off, and I would be able to feel the blood splatter on me again. I’ve calmed down a lot since then, but I still get jumpy when a loud noise suddenly jumps out at me….like the ringing of a phone.

The ringing caused me to sit straight up on the couch. I was gripping the cushion beneath me and looking around like a crazy person. I felt stupid once I spotted Trace standing against the wall, talking and laughing into the mouthpiece. I wished like hell that I could get over myself and relax. I was at Justin’s house. I was safe, and I had every reason in the world to be calm, but I wasn’t. I was still edgy. I still didn’t sleep at night, and I was still drinking excessively when I knew I could get away with it.

Then the reality check came. Trace came plodding over to me, his hand over the mouthpiece. His expression was a concerned one, and I knew that whoever was on the phone wasn’t anybody I would want to deal with at that moment. Then he said, “It’s Siobhan…and I think she’s pretty pissed off.”

I wished I could have told him to take a message. Maybe if I’d ignored her that day, I wouldn’t have gone through all the emotional bullshit that followed. But I didn’t ignore her, because she was my best friend, and she’d sacrificed a lot of her time to comfort me. Part of me believed that she was only calling to check on me, but the other part of me…the smarter part, knew better. The conversation that followed was nothing more than a sneak preview of everything that was to come. I said hello to Siobhan, but she barely greeted me. She just started rambling on and on about how pissed off she was.

“Okay, so I could tolerate your mother calling me up a few times a day, and leaving stupid messages for you when I didn’t bother to answer the phone,” she’d grunted. “But she crossed the line when I was having sex with Scott and she started screaming into the answering machine. Jesus Christ Kerri! She was like…psychotically crying. She was asking if you were hurt, and she sounded nearly suicidal. So I had to pick up the phone, and tell her what was going on. I had to deal with your mental case of a mother for two hours! Needless to say, Scott was not in the mood to continue what we started, after I managed to get off the phone.”

I tried to apologize. Scott is a pre-med, and even though I have a hard time tolerating his eating habits, and the fact that he walks around our apartment in just his boxers, I have to admit that he’s a really dedicated student. If he has a paper to do, or an important exam to study for, he practically lives at the library. I know it’s a rare occasion when Scott and Siobhan have our place to themselves, and I guess with me being gone, it gave them a good opportunity to spend some time together. I felt really bad, and I assured her I would call my parents up and key them in on the situation. But that wasn’t good enough for Sio…

“What are you doing out there Kerri? Your Z100 interview is in three hours, and you’re still at Justin’s. I don’t’ know what the hell happened when you went to see him, but I’m pretty sure you let his manipulative ass con you into staying longer. Am I right?”

I couldn’t lie. Lying to her would have been pointless, because she’d already figured out the truth for herself. “He’s not manipulative. We just…reconnected.” I tried to be convincing but I knew that she wasn’t buying a word I was saying to her. “And I’m going to stay a little while longer, that’s all.”

“Do you realize what you’re doing!” she had yelled. “Do you even know how hard it was for Jason to get you an interview at the radio station? You’ll never get another opportunity like this Kerri. Look, let me call him, and explain the situation. I’m sure they can push your interview up til tomorrow, okay?”

I didn’t hesitate. The only person I was thinking about then, was Justin, and how hurt he would be if I flew back to New York, after I’d already said I would stay. “No, Siobhan,” I refused. “I’m just going to have to let it go.”

“Oh I get it,” she sneered with sarcasm. “You’ll just get psycho Timberlake to get you a job. Nothing like being a freeloader, Kerri. But I guess you learned that from Trace, right?”

It angers me when anybody calls Trace a freeloader, because they don’t realize how much work comes along with the title of “personal assistant”. But Siobhan had known Trace for few years, and I knew that he’d explained his job to her a few times. So when she said that, it angered me…a lot, and I guess I kinda lost it after that. The comments that followed were nothing but a bunch of jumbled curses and cries of ‘I hate you’s’ and ‘You can go to hell’s’. At some point, Trace sat down next to me and took the phone away, because I was too hysterical, and my comments weren‘t making any sense. At the time I was too angry to care, but now that I look back on it all I wish I could have been more rational. By the time Trace had calmed me down enough to get me back on the phone, Siobhan had had enough of my bullshit. I remember the last words she said to me, very clearly. I hear them often in my dreams…and each time I do, they leave me feeling even emptier inside.

“Come back and get all your shit. I want you out, and you better not think that you can come crying to me when he ruins your life again, Kerri.”

Then she hung up. At first I didn’t want to believe she had, because she was my best friend and she was supposed to understand. But the burring of the dial tone in my ear a few moments later, proved that she had. Trace was still sitting next to me, and I looked up at him. He sort of nodded at me, like he knew what happened, and then he pulled me into a hug. I’m glad he was there for me then…

I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.

Trace and I spent the rest of the afternoon assessing the situation. He told me that he didn’t want me to stop going to my classes, but that it was going to be really hard for me to get through the rest of the term with everything that was going on. At first I thought he was being ridiculous. I mean, I needed to graduate if I ever had a hope of getting a job in my field of choice; and I knew that my parents would have a coronary if I decided to drop out of school and stay in Los Angeles. But as always, Trace told me to hear him out.

“Remember how ballistic my parents went, when I dropped out of high school and moved to Florida?”

How could I forget? You could hear Trace’s father yelling from all the way down the block, telling him that he was going to ruin his life, and that if he walked out the door he wasn’t going to be his son anymore. But Trace didn’t care. He hated school, and other than myself, and Nick Grobian; Justin and Trace’s other partner in crime…he didn’t have any other friends. All of his other friends were down in Florida, with Justin. I don’t blame him for wanting to be with them; but I admit, at the time I thought he was making the biggest mistake of his life…

But of course, Justin and Trace proved everybody wrong. Trace moved down to Florida the very next week, leaving me to fend for myself. He called me a few days later, and told me he’d gotten a job at a local pizza place. I was still very much in doubt of his quest, and I told him so…but then he just laughed, and told me that I worried too much. In a years time, he’d saved enough money to go out on tour with Justin, and after another year and a half of living out of a suitcase…Justin had made his first million. Then he made Trace his personal assistant, and neither of them had to worry anymore.

As for me, I was back in Millington, still in high school, wondering if I would do well on my term papers, and if my mother would snap out of her psychotic state of mind long enough to focus on me.

“You just gotta follow your heart,” he’d continued. “If you want to go to school, and finish and shit, then you do that. I’ll tell Justin that you needed to do it. But, if you feel like you need to be with us,” he paused and narrowed his eyes at me. “And I know you do…your more than welcome to stay. Hell, you can probably even go on tour with us Ker. I’m sure Justin isn’t gonna mind, and it’s not like we don’t’ have the extra room.”

I didn’t give him a solid answer right then. I knew I had a lot to think about, and a lot of things to discuss with my parents, and the dean of students before I could move forward. I told Trace all of this, and of course being the awesome friend that he is, he understood and even offered to go back to New York with me and help me get my stuff together; when and if I made the decision to relocate to Los Angeles for good.

My mind was put at ease, but not entirely. I was still concerned about how Justin would feel about me having to go back to New York and sort things out. Trace and I discussed that to, and finally decided it would be best not to tell Justin about my falling out with Siobhan and the fact that I was going to have to try and explain everything to my parents. I was only to tell him the bare minimum, that I had to go back to New York and see about school, and that I might come back to stay for a few months if everything worked out. I felt bad about lying, but I also knew the truth would have been too much for him to handle.

I constantly had to remind myself that Justin was still very unstable, even though when I went to visit Justin at the clinic that evening, he was acting like everything was great…that he was over Shane and Nathan and being raped. It was a front, and I knew that. Justin wanted to seem okay…for me. He didn’t’ want me to worry, but I didn’t want him to act that way. I wanted him to fix himself, before he thought about me or Trace or anybody else. But Justin has always been that way, always putting the people he cared about before himself. It didn’t’ matter what Shane did…as long as I was doing okay, and I was comfortable. I hated that. I hated that I walked out on him when he needed me, but yet he still loved me anyway. I didn’t deserve that kind of treatment from him.

But then again, he walked out on me three years ago, so I guess we’re even now.

“You’ll come back right? You know, when you get a break from school.” Was his response after I informed him of my plans. He seemed so worried, but I reassured him that I was going to be back as soon as I could.

“You’re not telling me everything,” he’d informed me. “There’s more to this.”

I always knew Justin was too smart for his own good. I was sure that he probably did more assessing of Madison than she did of him, and that was a good thing…because it meant that he hadn’t totally gone bonkers on us. If Trace had been sitting next to me then, I probably would have lied to Justin some more and told him that I’d told him everything, and that he didn’t need to worry. But Trace wasn’t there. Ten minutes into our discussion, his phone started to ring. Naturally, it was Elisha wanting to know why he was out visiting Justin so late, and blah blah bullshit. Needless to say, we were alone for a prolonged period of time, and I just…I just couldn’t’ lie to him.

“I need to talk to my parents,” I’d said in a low whisper. “I think I might take a sabbatical from school.”

Justin was silent for a long time after that. I didn’t’ try to pry his thoughts out of him, because I knew how fragile his state of mind was. I let him take his time with his reaction, and just hoped that he wouldn’t feel that I was springing too much information on him at once.

“You can’t just quit school,” he finally said. “You have so much going for you, Kerri. You need to do that…you need to finish.”

His words of encouragement melted my heart, and I wanted nothing more than to do what he was asking. But I knew Trace was right. I knew if I tried to go on, and concentrate on school and pass tests and write term papers I would either end up exhausting myself beyond repair, drinking myself into the hospital, or simply flunking out. The decision to move to Los Angeles was the right one, and I think I’d known that from the very beginning. It was getting the details sorted out that was the major problem. “I’m not quitting,” I’d smiled and taken his hand in mine. “I’m taking control of my life for once, Justin. I just…I haven’t been the same since, well, everything; and right now school just isn’t going to work for me. If the dean cooperates with me, he might let me get my diploma anyway…”

“What if he doesn’t?,” Justin interrupted me, his eyes wide like a curious little boy. “What if you get fucked over, because of me and my stupid shit that I can’t handle?”

The memory of what Justin did to me three years ago, didn’t hesitate to make itself known in the back of my mind. I knew him. I knew that he could sometimes be a coward. I knew that when he was really passionate about something, he often got scared and wanted to quit when things got complicated. Hell, he quit on me after we had sex. He was scared, he couldn’t deal, and he just brushed me to the side like I didn‘t matter to him anymore. I knew it could happen again, but I also knew I didn’t want to be without him. He was helping me deal, and at that moment all I wanted to do was deal. I wanted to sleep too. Sleep without the aid of a bottle of Jack Daniels at my side. My solution was to be with Justin as much as I could, and I left him that night with the reassurance that I was going to be there for him, no matter what. Then I kissed him on the cheek, and although I could feel him cringe a little, he seemed moved by my small show of affection.

I spent most of the next day sitting on Justin’s back deck, trying to take advantage of the warm California sunshine; and debating about when I was going to call my parents, and what I was going to say to them when I did. Unfortunately, my thoughts were constantly being interrupted by the never ending shouting match that Elisha and Trace were having in the house. I tried to tune them out as much as I could, but to no avail. Trace was really really aggravated, and I couldn’t help but listen in on their battle.

I hated to hear him that way…so annoyed and fed up. I didn’t really understand the whole reason they were fighting to begin with. All I knew was that it had to do with ‘commitment‘, and ‘Trace you don’t pay enough attention to me’. I never really hung out with Elisha enough to get to know her, but after spending a little more than a week with her, I was positive that she was nothing more than a whiny, self centered little bitch. I mean, okay…I’m sure she has her good qualities too. Trace doesn’t fall in love very easily. There has to be something about the girl that interests him, and he has a really hard time trusting any girl if she’s befriended Justin beforehand. I know that’s stupid, but I guess its just part of Trace’s whole insecurity issue. He wants his girlfriend to see him for who he is, inside and outside; and not just like him because of who he’s friends with, or what kind of connections he has. Supposedly, Elisha was that girl, but that day I wouldn’t have known it.

Eventually, their yelling died down a little and they started talking in calmer, more rational tones. But they were still standing in the kitchen, which was just feet away from the deck. I could still hear them talking, and I don‘t think they even knew I was out there at that point.

“Baby, you know I love you, and you know, everything such is a fucking mess right now,” he’d said in a defeated tone. “I’m sorry okay? I just need you to bear with me a little while longer. I swear, as soon as J gets back on his feet, it’s just gonna be us. We’ll take a vacation, anywhere you wanna go okay?”

“Yeah, and then you’ll tour, and I’ll film, and we’ll see each other a few times in between. What then Trace? What the hell is the sense of being together if I can’t see you? Just the other day you told me that Justin will probably be touring for the next six or seven months, I can‘t just be in the background anymore baby.”

I wanted to smack her for being so difficult. Trace was trying…he was trying hard. In fact, only a few days ago Elisha had been the one to point out this very fact to me. I couldn’t understand why she was acting the way she was. Supposedly she was friends with Justin, and she was there when he was going through all of that stuff. Surely she could understand why Trace was so distant, and full of concern.

“He’s my best friend, Elisha. You always told me that you understood that, and that you didn’t care if I had to sacrifice some of my time for him once in a while..”

“That was before all of this happened. And you know, in the beginning I figured I could handle it, but now I just…I don’t think I can okay? I’m tired of fighting for your attention Trace. I’m your fiancé and I shouldn’t have to,” she’d explained.

“So what then? What are you saying Elisha, what the hell do you want?” I heard a crash, and I was pretty sure it was the sound of a bottle breaking. “Do you want to fucking leave me?” he’d hollered, and I was sure I could hear him sobbing. “Will that make you fucking happy?”

Then…silence. I didn’t know what happened, and I started to wonder who might have walked away from who; but when I glanced over my shoulder to see what was going on, my mouth hung open in surprise. They were holding each other, and kissing, and crying. They loved each other, and it became apparent to me that a lot of my assumptions about Elisha were wrong. She really wasn’t the heinous bitch I‘d made her out to be, she was simply trying to prevent her relationship from falling apart. I decided then, that the best thing for me to do would be to call my parents and fly to New York. Not only would it give me a jumpstart on getting my mind made up, but it would also allow Trace some much needed alone time with his girlfriend.

Trying to kill two birds with one stone, I called my parents on the way to the airport. I’d been leery about making phone calls while driving, since my near brush with death the day I originally left for New York. Somehow though, Trace had convinced me to take a limousine to the airport (even though I was normally very against the idea), so I figured I should used my free time wisely. When my father answered, I was a little relieved. I knew if it had been my mother, I wouldn’t have been able to get a word in, and that would have only caused more chaos. He seemed surprisingly calm for a man who’d just received his word that his daughter had abandoned school and flew across the country to see a friend. But I was still sure the conversation wasn’t going to go very smoothly.

“Kerrigan,” he’d said in that calm, rational tone he always uses with me. “You nearly gave your mother a heart attack, pulling that stunt. I can understand your concern for Justin, but really Kerri…just packing up and flying out to Los Angeles? I know you have more sense than that.”

“Justin needed me,” I explained. “So I didn’t think, Dad; I just did what I thought was right.”

“School is more important than anything else you have going on,” he said firmly. “It’s your senior year, and you need to sit down and consider your options. Now, you know I have no problem with you doing what you want to do with your degree. But you better do something with it, Kerrigan. Your mother and I didn’t work our whole lives to send you to that fancy college, just so you could drop everything for Justin. It’s time that you started worrying about yourself, and your own life.”

I was silent for a moment. “Justin is a part of my life, dad. And in case you‘ve so suddenly forgotten, he was in that place with me…”

But of course my father didn’t’ want to talk about that. He never does. It’s like he’s afraid to get into what I went through, like it’s going to hurt him to hear how much shit I had to deal with in that house. It makes me want to hate him sometimes, but I can’t hate him. He’s my father, my daddy…and I’ll always have a special place for him in my heart. But that day…that day I didn’t care what he had to say. My mind was made up, and it probably had been since the previous day. I guess I was just calling him to finalize it all. But he wasn’t’ happy with that, not at all.

“This nonsense with that rock star friend of yours has gone on long enough, Kerrigan,” he conveniently interrupted me. “There are more important things in life. Your mother is frantic, and I’m very disappointed that you would let us down like this, after all we’ve done for you. I want you to return to New York, and focus on your studies,” he ordered me. “End of discussion.”

Maybe if I was nineteen and naïve I would have listened to him. But I wasn’t nineteen, I was twenty three and perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I felt very strongly that I needed to be where Justin was, if I had any hope of living a normal life again. And there was no doubt in my mind that he needed me too. “I can’t focus when my mind is elsewhere,” I informed him. “I’m going back to New York to talk to the dean, and I’m going to try and get a sabbatical or something.”

“You do that and you can forget about coming home for awhile,” he warned me. “I won’t put your mother through that at the holidays. You know how she feels about upsetting Mary, and you know she’s always in a delicate state of mind…”

“Right,” I interrupted harshly. “Think about everybody else’s feelings before mine, like you always do. I can’t argue with you, because you just don’t get it. Dad, I had a gun held to my head okay? I’m not the same straight A student I was before that all happened. I’ve changed, and I think the only one who hasn’t gotten that through his head is you!”

Then he was silent again.

And I hung up.

Things couldn’t have gone worse between my father and I, but I didn’t want to worry about it too much. No matter what happened, I knew I had somewhere to go. I knew Justin and Trace cared about me, and would welcome me back with open arms. And so, for the duration of my trip back to the city, all I focused my mind on was how I would present my story to the dean when it came time to face him, and whether or not Siobhan had thrown all of my personal belongings out the window of the apartment.

Surprisingly enough, Siobhan didn’t start screaming at me when I walked in the door later that evening. She and Scott were sitting on the sofa, watching some movie that I can’t remember the name of right now. She said ‘hi’, and I sort of grunted, and went into my room, making sure to close and lock the door behind me. The first thing I did was try to call Trace, but he didn’t answer. It didn’t discourage me however. Before I left, he’d warned me that he might be ‘preoccupied’ if I tried to call when I got into the city, and if that was the case I should call the next day. Yeah, I guess he got that ‘quality time’ in with Elisha after all. So, after downing a mini bottle of Jack Daniels that I’d bought on the plane, I managed to get to sleep. It was a dreamless sleep for once, and I was thankful. I rose with the sun that morning, feeling refreshed and awake for the first time in months.

A lot of the students on campus say that Dean Walters is the biggest asshole in the world. I heard one story where he kicked a student out of school for simply using the wrong kind of number 2 pencil on their final exams, but I found that quite hard to believe. Still, the rumors stuck with me, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous when I stopped by his office later that afternoon. Even his secretary seemed cold, and unforgiving.

“The dean is extraordinarily busy,” she informed me coldly. “You’ll have to make an appointment, and leave it in that pile there.” She didn’t look up from her paper work as she motioned to a overflowing bin of paper work at the far corner of her desk. I took one look at it and frowned. I knew that by the time she penciled me in, the semester would be over.

So I took the next step.

“Please, Miss…Baxter,” I read her name off of the gold sign that rested at the edge of her desk. “I wouldn’t’ be here if this wasn’t important.”

She laughed at me. “That’s what they all say.”

I sighed in defeat, and it was one of the only times I actually considered calling Madison to get me out of a predicament. I still didn’t trust her, but I was pretty sure that she could put her powers to work and get me in there. I remember reaching for my cell phone, but then the door to the dean’s office opened, and who should walk out but Dean Walters himself.

“I’m out to lunch, Grace,” he’d said, while nonchalantly strolling past me. He didn’t’ give me a second look either, and I knew that if I didn’t think fast and say something, I was going to end up leaving NYU without a diploma to my name.

“Dean Walters!” I called to him. Of course, being the dean of students, he was probably used to that sort of thing, and it didn’t surprise me when he pretended not to hear me. But I didn’t’ give up. I followed him out the door and down the hallway. “Dean…just wait one minute, please,” I pleaded.

He sighed, and turned to face me after a moment. “What is it? Is it an extension? Because I don’t’ give extensions, young lady. If you can’t handle the materials given to you, get a tutor.”

“No, it’s not that,” I laughed nervously and tried to smile, but when his stern expression didn’t’ change, it caused my laughter to cease. “I just…I was interested in talking to you about getting a sabbatical. Some things have kind of well, caught up with me, and I don’t think I can finish the semester.”

“Some things have caught up with you?” he chuckled. “Let me guess; you’ve been partying too hard with your sorority and you can’t find time to study, so you want to get out of your obligations the easy way?

I gave him a dumb look. “I’m not in a sorority, sir.”

“This isn’t high school,” he grunted, and pointed a finger at me. “This is the real world young lady, and in the real world you have to work for the things you want in life. I don’t give sabbaticals or pardons or anything of the sort, unless it comes down to a personal family situation. And I’m sure there is nothing like that going on with you.”

I hated making the dean feel stupid, but I didn’t feel I had a choice. He’d jumped to conclusions with me, when he’d never laid eyes on me before. So with Trace’s words of wisdom in the back of my mind, telling me to go with what my heart was telling me, I finally told him exactly what was on my mind. “Actually sir, you’re wrong,” I’d nodded. “That’s exactly what’s going on with me.”

He sent me a blank stare; like I had a hell of a nerve coming to his office, and telling him that he was wrong. “What’s your name?” he’d asked me, not hesitating to send me an annoyed glare at the same time.

His words penetrated me like daggers, but I tried to remain calm when I answered his question. “Kerri Donovan.”

He cupped his chin in his hand, and his brow had furrowed in thought. “Your name sounds familiar,” he’d said. “Didn’t I read about you in the papers?”

I shrugged. “You might have.” I could have told him who I was right then, but I felt weird just blurting it out. The kidnapping was, and still is a very delicate subject for me. It’s hard enough for me to talk about it with the people I love, let alone a stranger.

“I only get a limited amount of free time throughout the course of the day, and I hate to miss lunch,” he informed me.

My heart sank. It was apparent to me that his stomach was more important than my future. I was convinced the rumors I’d heard about the dean were true, and I was ready to tell him thanks for nothing and submit my appointment request in that ridiculous pile of papers. But then he said…

“Are you hungry, Ms. Donovan?”

I was, but the dean was a very intimidating man. I was sure if I did go to lunch with him, I wouldn’t have much of an appetite; and then he would have yelled at me for wasting food. “I don’t think I could stomach much right now,” I’d admitted.

“Well, so much for Leo Lindy’s,” he muttered. “Come, we’ll discuss this in my office. I can have something delivered.”

After allowing Dean Walters to order his lunch (a roast beef sandwich on rye, crusts cut off, extra lettuce, light mayo, no tomato), I started to explain myself. At the mention of Justin’s name, he realized who I was, and told me he wished I had come to him at the beginning of the semester and told him about my situation. I explained that I didn’t think I would need to leave school at the beginning of the semester, and that I’d only realized that I was needed out in California, recently. It didn’t’ matter though. The dean was more than willing to do whatever he could to help me out.

I realized that he wasn’t such a cold hearted man after all…he was just tired of students coming to him and trying to get out of school for stupid reasons. He told me he would do more than grant my sabbatical. He would wave the rest of my credits and give me a diploma in June--no questions asked. I was so thankful, I felt like crying. It was the first positive thing that had happened since I’d gotten off the phone with my father. With the dean’s pardon, I knew everything was going to be okay. I would be able to return to Los Angeles, nearly worry free. I’d be able to focus on Justin’s issues, as well as my own…and hopefully regain the bond we’d always shared.

As for Trace, I want to help him out as much as I can. I know making plans for a tour is a hectic process, and since Justin is flying solo, it means a lot more work for everybody involved. I’m kind of excited though. I’ve never seen Justin’s album at work, and I’ve been curious as to how he’s been handling being on stage without his four other band members along side him.

“Do you need this ceramic monkey?” Trace holds Gwen up in the air and shakes his head in amusement. “What the fuck is this Kerri?”

"Hey," I pout and snatch her away from him. "That’s not just an ordinary monkey. That's Gwen and she has feelings." I hold her close to me and pet her a little, before placing her in the cardboard box I’ve been putting random things into.

“It‘s no wonder that you and Justin click better together.” Trace laughs out loud, and starts to take more objects off of my bookshelf. “You’re both whacked.”

Trace flew out yesterday, to help me pack my things, and to help me get rid of the stuff that I don’t need. Our mission hasn’t been very successful. I’ve packed up more than half of my stuff; most of it being things I don’t necessarily need to live my life, just things that hold sentimental value, like Gwen. Gwen is the dorm monkey. Siobhan and I won her at a street festival in Soho two years ago, and even though we knew it was the cheesiest prize somebody could win for tossing five balls into a hole in the wall; we decided that it was a fun little trinket anyway. We named her Gwen because…well, I don’t really know why, we just thought it was a cute name I guess. When we lived in the dorm, Gwen stayed by the door, and wished us a hello every morning and a welcome back in the afternoon. When Scott first laid eyes on her, he laughed, and when we told her how we’d won her and what we’d named her, I thought he was going to pee his pants. Scott dubbed her the official dorm monkey, and for awhile she had a little sign taped to her that said Don’t feed the dorm monkey.

Siobhan and I had a lot of crazy times like that one during our time together. After Justin left me, Siobhan was the only one who I could trust to confide in about it, besides Trace. She’s brought out the best in me over the past three years, and now…it’s like none of that matters anymore. We’re still not on speaking terms. This morning before Trace came over to help me pack, she grunted something about getting breakfast and that she’d be back in time to see me on my way. “Leave your house key by the microwave if you end up leaving early,” she’d reminded me. Then she walked out, the door slammed, and I knew our friendship was basically non existent.

It’s so weird. I’m gaining a friend in Justin again, but at the same time I’m losing Siobhan. It’s like some kind of fucked up trade off, and I really hate that things have to be this way, but there’s nothing I can do. Siobhan doesn’t understand why I’m leaving like this, and nothing I can say is going to make her see that what I’m doing is right. I know the best thing to do is just move on and try not to think about everything I’m leaving behind for Justin…but it’s really hard. Three years of friendship with Siobhan isn’t going to fade away over night, and I know that.

“Girl, you have so much shit,” Trace crouches down and looks under my bed. “We aren’t taking this bedding, or this extra quilt thing under here. Justin has enough of that stuff at his house to last time for the next thirty years.”

“But that’s my favorite quilt!” I half whine, half laugh. I turn around, and open the top dresser drawer so I can start stuffing my suitcase with my clothes.

“Fine, fine, take the quilt; but the rest of it is going to Goodwill or something,” he huffs. I hear him grunt as he struggles to pull the quilt out from under the bed. “Damn, what the hell? It’s like caught or something.”

I sigh and turn around again. “There’s a lot of garbage under there,” I laugh. “You can leave it if you want to.”

“Hell no.” He stops pulling on it for a moment, and takes a deep breath before looking up at me. “I’m not going to listen you bitch on the plane about how you miss your blankie or whatever.” He rolls his eyes, and starts to yank on it again.

“My granny made it,” I pout.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I smile, and start to turn back to my clothes, but then I hear something roll across the floor…and it’s definitely not my quilt. I glance over my shoulder, and immediately the panic starts to set in. Two empty liquor bottles just rolled out from under my bed. Shit…I forgot all about them. There’s more too, I know there are. I didn’t want Siobhan to notice how much alcohol I was taking in, so I hid the bottles under my bed. How could I forget that? How could I let my guard down so damn easily? Make him stop, Kerri!, my mind screams at me when Trace pulls a few more bottles out from under my bed. “Damn, Scott must have been drinking with his buddies again,” I say pathetically. I race around to the other side of the bed where Trace is crouched, and begin to gather up the few bottles that have reemerged from under the bed.

“What is this?” Trace asks me finally.

I shrug quickly, and hug the three bottles in my arms close to my chest. “Just leftover junk from a few parties we’ve had here.”

He stares at me, and pulls the rest of the quilt out from under the bed. There are two more bottles on top of it, and I’m sure he knows that I’m full of shit. He glances at them, and looks back at me. “You guys have that many parties here?”

I nod stupidly.

He gets up from the ground, and takes a couple of bottles along with him. “You didn’t drink all of this by yourself did you?”

I manage to laugh at him, but I know it sounds forced. “Of course not,” I roll my eyes and walk out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. I can hear Trace plodding along behind me, and I know he’s going to try and get the truth out of me. But I’m not ready to admit I have a problem. I mean, I don’t really have one. I just…I can’t sleep, and the liquor helps a lot. I can control it, I’m not some kind of chemical dependent reject or anything. I reach the garbage can and toss the bottles away, before turning to face him again. “I’m not stupid, Trace.”

“Why was all of this in your room…under your bed, if you didn’t drink it?” he questions, before throwing the bottles in his hands into the trash.

“I told you, they were leftover….”

“That’s total bullshit, and you know it,” he interrupts me. He places his hands on his hips, and shakes his head. “I knew it. I knew there was something wrong with you when you guzzled down all that whisky the day we hung out and played cards.”

I frown. “You know, this hasn’t been an easy week for me. I would appreciate it if you would stop giving me the third degree, Trace. I’ve never lied to you before, so what sense would it make for me to start now?”

“It’s hard to admit when you have a problem,” he informs me. “Believe me, I know. I had to catch Justin in the act to get him to admit there was something wrong with him.”

“Well I don’t have a fucking problem,” I snap. “We had a few parties, that‘s all. Everybody was drinking, and some of the stuff wound up in my bedroom. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

He chuckles in defeat and pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Fine,” he huffs. “You don’t have a problem. You’re perfectly fine. You went through all that shit, and none of it affected you at all…I don‘t know what I was thinking, and I sincerely apologize. Come on, lets get the rest of your shit and get out of here. I told Justin we‘d be back tonight, you know?” He turns on his heel and storms back into my bedroom. “Oh look! I found more bottles under the bed!” he calls out after a moment. “Hey, I bet Siobhan can make a few bucks off of this. Should we leave her a note?”

I feel the tears begin to well up behind my eye lids. “Your fucking sarcasm isn’t appreciated!” I yell.

Silence.

I kick the garbage can out of frustration, and I can hear my empty liquor bottles clinking together inside…mocking me. I prop my elbows up on the kitchen island, and cover my face with my hands. I’m so pissed at myself. How could I be so unprepared? Was Justin this unprepared when Trace found out about his cutting? Did he try to make up some lame ass excuse as to why he was bleeding all over the place? I’m sure he did, but obviously it didn’t work…because he told Trace everything, and then he ended up in that place…

I don’t want to go into any kind of ‘place’.

Okay, okay…so maybe I do have a problem. It’s just so embarrassing. I mean really, who drinks themselves to sleep? Jesus, I must be some sort of freak. My face is burning, and I feel myself start to give into my emotions. I sniffle, and then I start to sob quietly. I sink down to the floor, and lean my back against the kitchen island. I take deep, even breaths and try to make myself stop crying…but I can’t. I want to…I don’t want Trace to know about this. I want him to focus on Justin. Justin is the one who needs all the attention right now…not me…I’m a strong girl…I can handle everything on my own. I wasn’t the one who was raped, and I wasn’t the one who was cutting myself. My problems are irrelevant at this point…

They always have been.

“Are you ready to talk to me?”

I hear Trace’s voice, and I groan softly. I sniffle, and push the hair out of my face before I look up at him. “No,” I sob.

He sighs, and sits down beside me on the floor. “All right.”

I lean my head on his shoulder, and close my eyes. A moment later I feel him put his arm around me, and I feel a sense of comfort take over me. I feel loved. “I’m sorry.” I whisper. I don’t know why I’m apologizing. I guess for lying to him, even though I won’t admit that I lied about my drinking. I’m sure he knows that I did anyway. He’s just waiting for me to admit that I have a problem. But I won’t. I’m too stubborn I guess. Or just afraid of what might happen if I do.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says after a moment. “You just…do what you need to do right now. If you don’t want to talk about this I’m not going to force you to, Kerri. But please know, that I am worried about you. I don’t want to see something bad happen to you, okay? I mean, I know that Justin isn‘t the only one that‘s having a hard time dealing with everything. You don‘t have to battle all of this by yourself. ”

I open my eyes, and bite down on my bottom lip. “Justin has a lot more to deal with than I do,” I finally manage to croak out. “There’s no reason for me to drag all of my problems into this right now. It can wait.”

He reaches out and wipes the tears off of my face, and smoothes my hair back behind my ears. “You both went through it together,” he reminds me. “Granted, Justin got put through a lot of physical torture…but that doesn’t’ mean that your problems and your feelings come second to his. If you have a problem…you have a problem, Ker. And I want to help you through it okay?”

I look at the floor. “I’m not ready,” I say to him. “I just…I don’t think I’m ready to deal with what’s going on with me yet.”

“And that’s okay,” he reassures me.

“Yeah?”

He curls his finger under my chin and forces me to look at him. “Of course,” he nods and smiles a little. “Just promise me that you’ll take care of yourself.”

I know I can’t really promise him anything. Sleeping is still going to be an issue for me no matter what I do or where I go. With the tour approaching, I know I’ll need my rest too. But still, I smile a little and fake a reassuring tone so Trace won‘t worry so much. “I will,” I say. “I promise.”

He pecks me on the forehead and tells me to come help him finish packing. I follow obediently, and in the span of an hour and a half, the rest of my essential belongings have been packed. It’s time to leave now. Time to move on, time to face everything again. But I’m still very unsure of myself. I’m going to be living under the same roof as Justin, Trace, and Elisha. What will it be like? Will Justin be freaked out all the time? Will he talk to me, or will he hide from me? Will Elisha continue to hate my guts, or will she finally understand that I belong at the house just as much as she does? And Trace…he’ll still be in the middle; the calm center of the storm. What can I do to make him feel appreciated? There’s so many questions, but very few answers. I’m still uncertain that this will all work out. But I guess that’s the chance I’ll have to take if I want to get my life back.

There’s no time to turn back now.

Baby Steps