Lucky Me

Okay, well, it's here. I just want to throw out a quick thank you to the thirty-some people who e-mailed me after the last installment, and a great apology to those of you whom I didn't get a chance to write back. You've reassured me that there are, actually, people out there reading this, and that makes me happy..:) Alright, so let's get on with it. This isn't meant to imply anything about anyone that ever lived, or anyone that's ever going to. If you don't want to read this, then for god's sake get out of here. I must take one moment here to acknowledge one of the apparently lesser known geniuses among us. I must demand that you all go read Scotty's stories--"Beneath it All" and "Mirrors" and if you haven't "Lance in Shining Armour". He's undoubtedly one of the best out there, and I'm appalled to learn that there are people who don't know about him. If I learn that any of you haven't read his work after this announcement, you will be drug out in the street and shot...:) And so, without further ado . . .on with the show.

Lucky Me -13-

After a promise to call when I needed help moving, I left Ave and Paula's with a smile on my face. I felt . . .renewed somehow. It was such an unexpected change in my life to be with people who likewise wanted to be with me. I wasn't used to it. Even though that's how it'd been that week and a half with the guys, I didn't know enough then to realize it. I'm not sure I fully realized it that night. All I knew was that my life had really changed. I seemed to have friends--actual, true friends. That's something I'd never had before. It also seemed that I'd gained the potential for a healthy relationship with a wonderful man, and even though this whole new outlook on life was really confusing me, I knew I couldn't mess that up.

I shut the front door behind me and went upstairs to change. I was just about to head downstairs to watch some TV, when my laptop caught my eye. I knew they'd had a concert that night, so I didn't really expect anything to be there, but when I checked my e-mail, I was surprised to find two in my inbox. I opened JC's first, saving the best for last.

From: joshchasez@jive.org To: lcrobertson@hotmail.com Subject: Hey Buddy!

Hey Luke! Listen, we've got a concert tonight, and it's been go go go all day long. We only have about 10 minutes before we have to start getting ready, and the rest of the guys decided to go eat, so this is gonna be kinda short, and I apologize for that. I just felt like I had to e-mail ya to say hey. I told the rest of this guys I'd be doing this, and they said to give you a shout out, so the rest of the guys say hey, too. Minus Lance, of course, because he's skipping dinner to e-mail you too, from what I understand.

It's really strange that you're not here with us. We all think so, and we talk about it a lot. You're a great guy, and we all kind of got used to you being around. Now that you're not, it feels . . .I don't know, wrong, sorta. You fit in with us right away, and that's rare for the five of us. Especially for Justin--it usually takes Justin a LONG time to get in a groove with somebody, but he really does like you.

Hey listen, I know you might be mad at Justin, still, and to be fair, you've got a right to be, but he just feels awful about it. Whenever we talk about you, he's all happy when we're talking about seeing you again in a couple months, but it's not long until he says something like, "I wish I hadn't been such an ass, that day," and it takes awhile to cheer him up. When you didn't hug him goodbye at the airport . . .I mean, he noticed, and he feels shitty. He's my best friend in the whole world, Luke, and it kills me to see him so upset. Lance has forgiven him. We've forgiven him (Joey, Chris, and I were pissed at him for a couple days, too). He's really smart in a lotta ways, but he just doesn't think before he does things. If I know Just, he's not gonna e-mail you first, because he thinks you hate him, so just drop him a line--please. It's jrtimberlake@jive.org.

We're all a little down that you're not here, but Lance has done a complete 180 from the regular businessman he usually is on tour. I've never seen Lance so unfocused. He does alright in rehearsals and sound checks--he's made himself focus when we're working, though he does have a few lapses where we have to bring him back from his own little planet. But when we're not working, he's so random. He can't even concentrate on our schedule. Before, he was always the one to tell us where we were supposed to be when, but he can't keep it all straight anymore (no pun intended). I have to organize everything, now, and let me just tell you it's really confusing. He just hasn't been the same since we left. You mean a lot to him, Luke. I'm really glad you found each other.

Oh god, I am so late. Talk to you later, Luke.

• Josh

From: lcrobertson@hotmail.com To: joshchasez@jive.org Subject: Re: Hey Buddy!

First of all, don't apologize for taking time out of your life to e-mail me. I'm positive you've got better things to do (I can't believe you skipped dinner just to write me). Tell the guys I said hey, too. And tell Justin to check his e-mail.

I'm not mad at Justin, JC. I never was. All I ever was, was amazed that he could do something like that to one of his best friends. I'm not mad at him. He hurt Lance, and call me crazy, but I feel the need to protect Lance from getting hurt if I can. I know Justin's sorry. He and I just have to have a little talk about it. I'll drop him a line, JC, don't worry. I'm all about second chances. Justin seems like a nice guy. He made a mistake. We're all allowed to make mistakes. Thanks for telling me, though, JC. Did anyone ever tell you you're a kickass friend?

To be honest, it feels weird not having y'all here, too. I'm so glad the feeling's mutual. At least then I know I'm not obsessed. Having friends is something I'm having to get used to. I don't really know what's kosher and what's not. I'm glad missing you is kosher, though, because I might go insane if I couldn't miss you guys.

I'm so glad Lance isn't the same. I know how weird that sounds, but I really am. Think about it. If he's acting differently than he did before we knew each other, then it means I've had some sort of effect on him, doesn't it? If he's unfocused and a little spacey, then I know I have as big an effect on him as he does on me. Granted, I haven't got much I need to concentrate on, but there are a lot of things I'm having to sort out. Like what it means having Lance in my life. I'm glad Lance is struggling. It means he misses me (I hope).

Hope to talk to you soon, JC

• Luke

I clicked send and paused only momentarily before I began another letter.

From: lcrobertson@hotmail.com To: jrtimberlake@jive.org Subject: Let's talk

Justin,

Let's clear the air a bit, shall we? It's been brought to my attention, via Lance and JC, that you think I'm mad at you. It occurs to me now that, with how I've acted, you couldn't think anything else. Justin, I'm not mad at you. I never was. I know you didn't mean to, and I know you're sorry, but the bottom line is, you hurt Lance. I just can't tolerate anyone hurting anyone else. I would be acting the same way if Lance had hurt you. It's nothing personal. It's just the way I am.

I've come to my senses. You're a really nice guy, and you didn't mean to, and I know you'd die before hurting your friends on purpose. It just took me a little while to realize that. I tread with extreme caution when dealing with things like these. I was never mad at you, but if it makes you feel better, you're forgiven. You're a good guy, Justin. I'm sorry I didn't see that sooner.

• Luke

I clicked send and sat back in my chair, pensive. I had never been able to handle anyone hurting anyone else, either physically or emotionally. At school, I never had any close friends, but I was always the one to step in and stop a fight between two guys. I was always the one who stepped into a cat fight and, not only came out with my life, but helped the girls to calm down and talk over whatever it was they were fighting about. People who didn't even know my name in high school, knew me as "the peacemaker".

And Jason hadn't taken that part away from me. Underneath it all, underneath all the . . .brainwashing . . .that Jason had managed, he hadn't taken away my intolerance for inflicting hurt on others. I'd always known that was wrong. That third time he'd hit me, I'd been out the door with my suitcases, but he'd convinced me it was alright to stay. I still knew that hurting people was wrong. It's just that he made me believe I deserved to be done wrong to.

"The peacemaker" ending up in an abusive relationship--it was almost comical. Almost.

From: jlancebass@jive.org To: lcrobertson@hotmail.com Subject: I love you..:)

We have a concert tonight, so I literally have about three minutes to write this. I was going to skip dinner, but I hadn't had much to eat all day, so I grabbed some food really quickly, and I'm taking the rest of the dinner break to write you. But the dinner break was only ever like ten minutes long, so I've got to hurry.

I'm so glad Jason didn't try to hurt you. I'm also glad you got mad at him. He deserved it. Saying he never wanted to hurt you! It makes me mad just thinking about it. That asshole deserves everything you gave him and more. JC agrees with me. I told him that you'd been and you were okay. He was worried about you, too. We haven't told Joey, Justin, and Chris. We figured we'd let you tell them . . .if you want to, that is. It's completely your call.

I really hope everything comes through with an apartment, and the house, and all. I think I know the apartment house you're talking about, and it's a lot closer to my house than your mom's house is, so it'd be awesome if you lived there. If you ever need any help . . .like financially or something . . .the guys and I would be more than happy to lend a hand. Don't take that the wrong way, or anything. Just file it away in case you need it later.

JC told me he was gonna write you about Justin, so I won't touch on that. I just wanted to say . . .thank you for caring about me so much...:)

Which brings me to my next point. All I've been able to think about these past two days is how crazy it is that we're not together. I know at the time we were making the decision about what was going to happen when I left (because we did make it together), it made sense to break up since we didn't know anything about what was going to happen. And I guess we don't know anything new now, and I know everything seems to be happening so fast, but all I can think is that I want to be with you more than anything. I had no idea it was even possible to feel this deeply for someone, and I can't ignore that. I feel like I'm going crazy. Luke, will you be my boyfriend again? (Why do I feel like I'm in fifth grade all of a sudden?)

Okay, I'm getting yelled at. I love you, Luke.

Love,

Lance

I jumped up so fast my chair fell over. "Yow!!" I yelped my excitement to whoever was listening. I had so much energy I didn't know what to do with myself. I felt like I was going to burst. I almost exploded as I jumped up on top of my bed and let out the yell to end all yells.

It only took a few seconds for me to realize that I was acting the littlest bit immature. So, I did a quick happy dance, and then jumped off the bed. I picked up the chair from where it'd fallen, and I clicked the reply button.

From: lcrobertson@hotmail.com To: jlancebass@jive.org Subject: YES!!!

YES!! Of course I'll be your boyfriend again. Yes yes yes! I'm smiling so huge, I think my face is gonna crack. It's crazy that we ever broke up. It was only for two days, and I don't really feel like anything much changed, but it's just such a relief to know that we're "officially" a couple. Well, when you're out of the public eye anyway. I love you so much, Lance. If I were there right now, I'd never stop kissing you...:)

I appreciate the offer, sweetheart, but I really don't think I'm gonna need to borrow any money. I've got enough money to last a several months, and I'm gonna be getting a job, so everything's gonna be alright. I have no doubt about that. But if things don't go well, it's nice to know that I've got five friends who'd give me the help I needed. Tell the guys, I love them, would you? And hug Justin for me.

If the subject of Jason ever comes up when I'm around you guys, then I'll tell Joey, Chris, and Justin. But if it's not relevant, I don't think I will. It's not something I really like to think about. I don't even want to know I lived it.

I hope to be moving into an apartment by Monday. All I really have to do is go see if there is an apartment, and then make a down payment. So, I hope to have a phone number by the end of Monday . . .maybe Tuesday. I miss hearing your voice..:)

I love you, Lance.

Love,

Luke

Any lack of sleep that night was due entirely to my happiness factor being so high. I couldn't even lie still in bed I was so itchy. My mind was going a mile a minute. And I needed some sleep. I hadn't slept at all the night before, and I was gonna look for an apartment tomorrow, and I just needed some shut-eye. I picked up a book and tried to read because reading always made me tired, but I couldn't keep focused long enough to follow the story line. I'd look down and realize my eyes had gone over pages and pages without my absorbing any of it.

I finally put the book down and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I just couldn't stop thinking about Lance. Not just him, but our situation, now. What did it mean now that we were sort of . . .permanent? Because that's sort of what it was. Everything had been so touch and go before he'd left, but now we'd made a real commitment to each other, and I just didn't know what that meant for my life in the future. I'm not a planner by any means. I'm one to roll with the punches more often than not, but it just kinda scares me when I don't know how things might go. When I don't know how things might happen. I just needed to do some thinking about this, and I couldn't do it sitting down. So I pulled on some running shoes and a sweatshirt, as it was the middle of the night the week before Christmas, and I went out for a midnight run.

I often did this. I have just a couple little rituals. To escape from life, I go to the beach. To think about life, I do some running. My mind's moving so fast, it just doesn't feel right until my body's moving with it. Something about the rhythm of running helps me think things out. My feet beating a steady tempo on the concrete keeps my physical side occupied and leaves my mental side to roam freely.

What is happening with him and I, now?' I thought to myself as I started my run. Should I be worried about our lives being so different? Is that gonna be a factor that keeps us apart?' I let my feet pound on the pavement for a few minutes before I answered myself. `No, I don't think I should be worried about that. He and I are separated right now because we've got really different lives, but that didn't keep us apart. We were broken up for two days, and we almost went insane. Distance between us and the difference in our lives isn't gonna keep us apart. I just have a feeling.'

I have feelings about things sometimes. I'm not saying I'm psychic by any means, though I certainly do believe it's possible psychics exist, it's just that sometimes I'm almost positive how a situation will turn out. I'm sure hundreds of psychological factors play into this, but I'm almost never wrong.

I let my feet carry me for a little while more while I figured out what else was bothering me. So, how is our relationship gonna go?' I wondered. Is it gonna be that I'm stuck here the whole year, and I only get to see him for a month, maybe? I don't think I'd be able to handle that. Hell, I don't think he'd be able to handle that. So what's gonna happen?' Again a pause while I thought to myself. Well, we're not going to be kept apart by distance, right? Right.' I answered myself. So we'll be together.' I paused to think of how I was defining "together". Really together,' I decided. Like sleeping in the same bed, together.' I smiled for a moment at the thought of that.

But how is that gonna happen? Doesn't that mean I'd join the tour? Either that or he'd leave the group.' That just felt wrong. He'd never leave the group, and I'd never let him, anyway. So that means I'd join the tour.' I let that soak in. `What business would I have on tour? I can't just up and start traveling with them. I need a job, and how would they explain me, anyway? I just don't see how it's possible.'

And even though I didn't have an answer right then, I knew there was one. I just felt it. It just felt too . . .right . . .to be wrong. Even though I had zero idea as to how, I knew that I'd tour with them, eventually. `I don't know when it's gonna be, and I don't know how it's gonna be. I just know it's gonna be, is all. I have to keep my eyes open. I just have to be watchful for an opportunity.'

And I stopped running. I'd figured it out. Well, not really, but I was happy with what I'd thought through. I wasn't afraid of Lance and I breaking up, and I wasn't afraid about never seeing him. I just wasn't. It wasn't even that I had answers to these questions to satisfy me. The very fact that I knew there were answers was enough to make me content with things.

I jogged lightly back to the house, and after a quick shower, I went to sleep without any trouble.

The hunt for an apartment was a bit tedious, but I suppose it was better than it might have been. At least I was educated in what I was doing--knew which apartments were worth it. The Saturday after the dinner with Ave and Paula, I spread out the "for rent" ads on the dining room table and systematically crossed off the undesirables, and the desirables but unattainables, and the too far aways, leaving me with an assortment of nine different apartments--four one-bedrooms and five-two bedrooms--three of which were in the apartment house near Lance, creatively named "Elm Street Apartments."

But, I was met with a dilemma. None of the one-bedrooms, which were about three hundred dollars more affordable, were in the Elm Street Apartments--they only had three two-bedrooms available. So, I had to sit back and think whether or not being closer to Lance was worth three hundred more a month to me, when he wouldn't even be at his house much of the time; and indeed whether I could actually afford seven hundred a month as opposed to four hundred a month.

The first of those questions, whether or not it was worth three hundred dollars to be closer to Lance, wasn't really a question at all. Of course it was worth it. And I'd just have to find a way to make that happen.

But I wasn't long on cash. In fact, I was spread pretty thin, having just enough for about six months when I thought my rent would be around four hundred, and now I'd only have enough money to last four months, maximum. So, taking one of the two-bedrooms nearer Lance would mean having to get a job sooner than I would have before. But I could do that; I felt confident.

I wasn't really worried about my financial situation. I just knew that there was definitely a limited supply of funds. I'd absolutely have to get a job within a few months. That was just not optional. And, I guess it was that which stressed me out a bit--the thought that "if I don't get a job, I'm gonna run out of money." But I wasn't worried. Not yet, anyway.

So, I called and made an appointment with Mr. Lopez, the landlord, to see one of the available two-bedrooms. And I sat back, content.

And it was then, I think, that I realized I could do things for myself. I could actually survive and do things on my own. And it made me smile to know that I didn't have to be dependent on anyone. I love Lance, and nothing in the whole world could make me give him up. But, if something did happen to him, I know I'd be able to keep on living--however hard it may be.

I thought about checking my e-mail, but I was pretty sure no one'd had the time to get back to me. They were busy guys; I knew that. I knew they wanted to write me back, and it's the thought that counts. There are twenty-four hours in a day, and I imagine, back then, that about twenty-three of those hours were jam-packed for them.

The next two days were absolute madness. I saw the apartment with Mr.Lopez on Sunday, and it was better than I could have imagined. At seven-hundred a month, it was a bargain. It was a beautiful place--a large kitchen coming off of the living room, a little niche off the living room perfect for a little dining area, and access to the bedrooms/bathroom hallway from both the living room and the kitchen. It was great. As I stepped into the apartment, there was no deliberation in my mind. I just had to live here. I was so sure, that I instantly began to place furniture in my mind, and as I did so, I took note of what I'd need to bring.

I was so sure about the apartment, that I wrote Mr. Lopez a check for the down-payment that day, as I'd had the foresight to bring my checkbook. That was a huge thing for me to do, too, because the down-payment was twelve-hundred dollars. As I slowly signed my name to the check, I sincerely hoped that paperwork had gone through Ave's office, so that my check didn't bounce.

"Thank you very much," Mr. Lopez smiled as I handed him the check, his accent not incredibly thick, but recognizable. "You start rent January first, yes? When you move in?" He seemed to be such a happy little man.

"Tomorrow," I said. "Hopefully tomorrow."

"Ah, so soon? You like apartment so much?"

"Yes," I smiled, "it's a great apartment, and I should know. I used to work in real-estate."

"Ah! You should have told me. I would have been on best behavior," he chuckled.

I patted his shoulder as I began walking back to my car. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Lopez."

"Yes," he called after me, "tomorrow."

There seemed to be a million things to do. I rented the U-haul for all of Monday. I called Ave and Paula and asked them to help me move, as I realized it might take eight years if I tried to do it myself, and of course they agreed, as they said they would. I honestly thought the packing would never end. I just kept telling myself that once I'd finished, I'd e-mail the guys to let them know what was happening.

However, I soon came to realize that there was no finishing when it came to packing. I went out to buy more boxes, using money I couldn't afford to spend, at least three times. Every time I thought I'd finished, I'd find three more boxes worth of stuff I'd forgotten I'd need. It was insane. I never thought one person could possibly need so much stuff. And even when I'd packed everything in the whole house I ever thought I'd possibly make use of, I was sure I'd get to the apartment the next day, and realize I'd forgotten half my stuff.

However, around four in the morning, I finally came to my senses. I stood up from the box I'd just taped up, wiped the sweat from my face, and stated with determination, "Fuck it! If it's not packed, it's not going. That's just all there is to it." And feeling much happier with myself, I went upstairs and collapsed on my bed, but not before setting my alarm for the morning.

Paula and Ave arrived at nine-thirty, like I'd asked them to, and Ave and I went to go get the truck from the U-haul place. While Ave and I were gone, I asked Paula to pack the few things that had to wait until that morning--bedclothes, stuff in the bathroom, and anything else she saw lying around that I'd obviously forgotten to pack. She agreed instantly, and we were all off to perform our assigned tasks.

I couldn't have asked Paula and Ave to do a better job. They put in just as much work as I did. Paula was a strong woman. I don't know why that surprised me so much. She did her fair share of carrying heavy things, and when presented with something that was to heavy, she immediately said, "I can't do that, but I can do this," and set about another task that needed to be done just as badly.

Ave and I got back with the truck at around ten-fifteen, and we managed to pack everything from the house and get over to the apartment at about three. We were all tired when we got to the apartment, before we'd done any unpacking of the truck, and we thought unpacking might be the end of us, but we had to do it anyway. It took us a longer than the five hours it had taken us that morning because we were so tired.

But we still did a pretty good job. Mr. Lopez saw us during the day and he gave me a slip of paper with my new phone number on it and my new key, both of which I slipped into my pocket. By nine-thirty that night we had everything in the apartment except the couch, a dresser, and two chairs. We all stood atop the stairs, as my new apartment was 2B, so I was on the second floor, taking a little break.

"When is the truck due back, Luke?" Ave asked.

"Ten tomorrow, why?"

"Because I think I might die if I had to carry a couch up these stairs right now."

"I think I died about an hour ago," Paula commented, wearily.

"How bought we come over early tomorrow and help you finish this? I think I'd be more useful after a good night's sleep, anyway." Ave half-smiled.

"Yeah," Paula agreed, "and then you'd have less of a chance of dropping a couch on yourself, so I agree with Ave. How's that sound to you, Luke?"

"Just fine, guys. I'm beat myself. Good idea. Why don't you get here around . . .say eight-thirty?"

"Sure thing," Ave said as he and Paula already started down the stairs. "See you then, Luke."

"Bye," I called after them, but I didn't move from the top of the stairs once they'd gone. I was exhausted, but I really wanted to get this done tonight. I'd be aching the next day, and I just knew that if it didn't happen now, it never would. So I was just standing there, staring at the stairs, when I heard someone speak.

"What're you doing," he asked, coming to stand beside me and stare down the stairs, just like I was.

I laughed. "I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to get a couch up here by myself." I turned to look at the man standing beside me, and honestly, the first thing I noticed about him was that he was gay. And he wasn't particularly effeminate or anything, he just radiated `homosexual'. I had to keep myself from laughing at how blatant it seemed to me.

"Well now that would be tricky." His eyes seemed to laugh before his mouth did. He stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Ford Myers. I live in 2C, so I guess I'm your new neighbor."

I returned his smile and shook his hand. "And I guess I'm yours. I'm Luke Robertson. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too." He continued to smile. "You know I could help you with that couch if you want. I'm a pretty strong guy."

He looked like he was. "Well," I said, "it's not just a couch. It's a couch, a dresser, and two chairs. Offer still stand?"

"Sure thing, bud," he grinned. Man, this guy smiled more than anyone I'd ever known before. He started down the stairs as I uttered a `thanks'.

We carried the chairs up first, one each, and then he helped me with the dresser. Next came the couch. It was pretty awkward, and it was tough going, not to mention that it was getting about a thousand pounds heavier every second. But we finally got it maneuvered up the stairs and around all the corners and through all the doorways, and we were standing with it in my living room.

"Where do you want to put it?" he asked, obviously straining, as was I.

I dropped my end of the couch. "Right here looks good," I grinned at him.

He likewise dropped his end. "That's just what I was thinking." And we both flopped down on it.

"I'd offer you a drink, but I don't know where my glasses are, exactly. I don't know if there's ice. And the only thing I'd have to offer is tap water anyway, so I'm afraid a drink is out of the question. At least on my end." I looked at him pitifully.

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that," he laughed.

I made my bottom lip tremble.

"Oh for god's sake," he sighed as he propelled himself off the couch. "I think there's some lemonade in my fridge. I'll be right back with it, and some glasses with ice in them. But you owe me, mister."

"Sure thing, pal!" I called after him. While he was gone, it occurred to me that I should call Ave and tell him not to come in the morning, and I wanted to finally e-mail the guys and tell them about the apartment. So, that meant finding my phone and my laptop. I knew I'd put them in the same box together, but the trick was finding the box.

All the still-packed boxes were lying on the floor, so I set about finding the right one.

"What're ya doing, now?" I heard Ford ask as he came back into the apartment.

"Looking for a box," I mumbled, continuing to dig.

"That shouldn't be too difficult."

"No, I mean a specific box," I laughed. "Labeled `phone/laptop/VCR'. Mind helping me look?"

"Hey, I thought my end of the deal was carrying a couch."

"You carried half a couch. Now stop whining and start looking," I grinned.

"My my, aren't we forceful," he mumbled playfully as he began to trudge through the boxes with me. "Found it!" he called.

"Thanks," I smiled at him, and tore open the box. I grabbed the phone and the computer. "Have a seat, Ford. I've got a call to make. I'll get the drinks," I said, and I saw he'd set the lemonade and glasses on the kitchen counter. I plugged the phone in at the jack in the kitchen, and I dialed Ave's number. As I waited for him or Paula to pick up, I poured the lemonades.

"Hello?" I head an exhausted male voice say.

"Ave, it's Luke. Did I wake you?"

"Almost. I wasn't quite asleep. What's up?"

I turned away from the living room so Ford wouldn't hear me talking about him. "I met one of my neighbors, and he helped me with the rest of the stuff, so there's no need for you to come over tomorrow."

"Great." He paused. "Do you see anything happening with this new neighbor?" I practically heard him wiggle his eyebrows.

"No!" I hissed. "Remember Lance, Ave?"

"Well, sure. But I thought things were a little unsteady in that department. I didn't mean to imply anything, Luke."

"No no. I guess I didn't tell you. Lance and I are . . .sort of official now. So Ford's just a friend."

"Well," I heard him smile. "I'm certainly glad you got things worked out with Lance. And I'm glad you found a friend."

I turned back and looked at Ford through the kitchen's doorway. "Yeah, I'm glad too, Ave." I smiled.

To Be Continued . . .

Well, there you are everyone. Please tell me what you think...:) I know you might be getting tired that the guys are sort of absent, but that should change soon...:) Alright, the e-mail's still Lauren2993@aol.com...so drop me a line. I love you guys, -Lauren aka Pook