Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 30

My cell had stopped ringing a couple minutes ago and now the house phone rang. I just looked over at it. I didn't have the energy to answer. I knew it would be Nick again. I pulled the pillow up to my chest and hugged it tightly, trying to steady my breathing. I couldn't do it. He'd called too many times. He certainly knew I was avoiding him. But I didn't know what I'd say if I picked up the phone.

The machine clicked on and just hearing his voice made me start sobbing. "Hey baby… it's Nick. Shit, you know that. Look, I just called your cell again and… yeah, I'm booked on a flight tomorrow afternoon and I'll be in around… 8 p.m. your time." There was a long pause as he waited to see if I was going to pick up the phone. "I miss you, Rache, and I don't know what I did. Maybe you're just not there. I know how you like to cut yourself off after the end of a tour…" His voice broke and I felt my heart snap in two. "I need to talk to you, Rache, you're scaring me. I know the last few days here sucked and I'm sorry again for all the stupid stuff with the press. But… please call. I love you, buttercup."

I didn't even have the urge to pick up the phone. The machine stopped recording and I laid back down on the couch, pulling my legs up to my chest and shutting my eyes tightly. If I could block out all the sunlight from this room it would make me happy. Suddenly my stomach lurched and I jumped up from the couch, running to the bathroom just in time.

"Any answer?" AJ came over as I scowled at the phone. Was he talking to me now? Wonder what prompted this. I was definitely the odd man out here. No one cared what I thought or said, so why did I even bother staying? I should have gone to the Point with Rachel. At least then she'd be talking to me.

Why wasn't she talking to me? I couldn't figure it out. That was my fifth message on her machine today. I know I was being clingy. The more I called, the more annoyed I made her. But didn't say once that she liked that hint of desperation and longing in my voice? If that was still true, she must be loving these messages.

AJ frowned, "What'd you do, dude?"

"I dunno," I shrugged.

He gave me an incredulous look. "Nick… you can tell me."

I rolled my eyes, "Just the guy I wanna pour my heart out to, dude." AJ smiled and grabbed a soda off the counter, pulling a chair over to my side of the table. I hated this conference room. We were taking a five-minute break, but a large part of me wanted to just walk out and never turn back around.

I knew that was wrong. I didn't want to leave Backstreet. Not really. They were my brothers and if I was being honest, the best family I had. But I needed… something. Space. Time. Freedom to be me and not just a Backstreet Boy. Did I even know what that was?

Hell, I'd probably be happy just hanging out on the 'Nsync tour and following Rachel around. We'd made it, right? Rachel and me. Two grueling tours. Continents dividing us. And now we were at the okay stage. I knew we were. I just didn't know why she wasn't talking to me.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and hit redial. AJ just sighed and hit me on the knee. "Dude, you know that's annoying, right?"

I listened to the phone ring… three, four… if she wasn't going to pick up the phone she should at least set the number of rings lower so I didn't have to wait to be pathetic on her machine. "What else am I going to do, Aje?" I whined, and he just shrugged, getting up and leaving me alone.

The phone jolted me out of my thoughts. I was staring down at the article, not even reading it. James and Nick standing over a photographer and a picture of me up on the corner of the page as I fell into the limo. There was speculation that I was drunk or maybe I had a drug problem. And maybe Nick had taken out his anger at not winning an award on me.

Were these reporters smoking crack? Nick would never hit me. The worst he'd done was pull me back inside a room when I was trying to leave. But… they had it all wrong.

And so did we.

I sighed, staring at the page again as the phone rang. Just a few days ago my biggest problem was damage control for fainting at a party. And we thought that was difficult to deal with. I had a feeling that was going to feel like nothing as soon as Nick got here. He was still coming, right? Would he not come if I didn't pick up the phone?

"Baby. I'm really worried…" His voice trailed off. "I know I'm being annoying. Just pick up the phone and tell me you're okay and I won't bother you. Promise. Rache…"

I picked up the phone. He had to come. I couldn't tell him something like this over the phone. That was just wrong. The phone was quiet. Was he still on the line? Sniffing, I wiped away my tears trying not to sound like I'd just spent the last day and a half crying.

"Rache? Are you there? Baby…" His voice sounded so far away. My chest hurt with missing him and I sobbed loudly. So much for playing this cool.

"Oh baby… baby…. What's wrong, Rache? God damnit, why aren't I there!"

He yelled that last part, making me shudder. I couldn't even find my voice. I had barely spoken to my family, let alone seen them. As soon as I got to the house and saw the half-empty bottle of antibiotics on the bathroom sink, I'd figured it out. The fainting. Why I couldn't sleep enough. Being an emotional basket case all week. Sure, Europe had been grueling, but no more so than any other tour.

One of the first things they tell you when you go on the Pill is that antibiotics can fuck with it. Why hadn't I remembered that last month?

"I'm…" My voice broke as I tried to speak. Don't say it. Not over the phone, Rache. Just breathe. "… here, Nick. Sorry." I didn't know what I was going to say to him. But as soon as I'd heard his voice in my ear, I knew that as much as I couldn't do this to him, I couldn't do it without him either.

The guys all started to file back into the room and I pushed past them as Kevin called after me. But I just ignored them. They could give me a minute to figure out why the hell my girlfriend wasn't talking to me and sobbing on the other end of the phone. My mind was racing, trying to figure out what could be happening.

"It's okay, buttercup. Are you okay? Rache, where have you been?"

Tell me that you've had a flash of inspiration and have been writing 24/7 and you thought that talking to me would fuck up your concentration. Tell me that you were using my desperate phone messages as samples on the great new songs you were writing. Tell me that Colleen and Katie had you tied up in the basement grilling you on Backstreet dirt to impress their friends.

Tell me anything, but that you suddenly don't love me anymore. She wouldn't say that. That was just me being overwrought.

"Sitting on the couch flipping through re-runs mostly." Her voice was emotionless as she answered, sending a chill down my spine. It was the last answer, wasn't it?

I stopped in the hallway, my throat closing as I listened to her sniffling back tears. Now that I had her on the phone, I didn't know what to say to her. I wanted to scream at her that she was scaring me, that whatever I did to her, I hadn't meant it. But I couldn't do that. If I yelled she might hang up the phone and Lord knows when she'd answer it again.

Her voice broke my train of thought, "I love you, Nick."

Tears spilled out of my eyes as I blinked. "You do?"

"Of course. Always." Her voice was barely a whisper. "We're overwrought, aren't we? Now you're supposed to say it back, bunny."

Was she teasing me? Did I hear a hint of a smile in her voice? "God, Rache… I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. If I were there, I'd be holding you so tight you could barely breathe. I would smother you with kisses. I should have just come with you. We're not getting anything done, anyway."

"No, you need to figure it out, bunny," I responded. And he did. As much as he hated being a member of Backstreet right now, I knew he didn't want to leave. He couldn't want that. Besides, in another day his life was going to be different. He had to figure this part out first. Part of me knew that if I told him, he'd want to fly out here right away and I couldn't let him do that. No. This wasn't going to mess up our lives. It couldn't.

"You love what you do, Nick. That's part of the reason I love you so much. You're a different person onstage, you know that? Shit. If you could have an ounce of that self-confidence offstage you might be unbearable to live with."

"But they can wait. Hell, all we're doing is waiting. They're cool with the solo thing sort of and now they're saying we'll get together at the end of the year and…" He suddenly stopped talking. "Shit! I'm sorry. I didn't call you to ramble on. I'm not important."

"Oh ramble, sweetie." I soothed, picking up a tissue from between the couch cushions and blowing my nose quietly. "At least you're being productive."

"I thought maybe you'd be writing and that's why…"

I interrupted him, embarrassed about all the messages he'd left and all the times I'd just let the phone ring, knowing it was making him crazy. "Not writing a thing." I sighed, looking down at the notepad on my table. Phone numbers and addresses for clinics on Long Island with doodles all around them. That's what I'd been writing for two days. I looked out the window. The sun was bright, but the wind was whistling around the trees. I pulled the blanket up around my shoulders. I knew it was bitter cold outside, no matter how cheery and warm the sun looked.

"Nick," I started and shut my eyes before I could chicken out, "You said you'd be here tomorrow night?"

"Yeah. I can still come, right? I miss you so much, baby. I completely fucked this whole week up and I'm so sorry. I don't know how to make it up to you."

"Stop apologizing. It was my fault. I should be apologizing, baby." Everything is my fault. I couldn't imagine what I'd have to do to make this up to him. "Just come tomorrow, okay? I miss you, too."

We talked until I heard Kevin calling for him. I couldn't put down the phone until I heard him hang up. Lying on the couch again, I tried to convince myself that everything would be okay. It had to be. We'd talk and he'd understand that I had to do this. I couldn't be a mom right now. He loved me, right? He'd understand that sometimes things just happen at the wrong time and it was okay to be selfish.

I tried to steady my breathing, burying my face in my hands. I knew he wouldn't.

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