Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 28

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 31
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

Clockwatching
Lately we're running out of time, aren't we?

These were the greatest pictures ever. I just kept clicking and giggling. I didn't think I was disturbing anyone else. It was our last day at sea, so there were a few people in the Internet café, checking flights and writing home. I'd just wanted to check my email quickly to see if Saffron had scheduled a million things for us this week. Instead I'd found a bunch of emails from James telling me I had to see these pictures.

When I'd surprised Justin onstage during his final performance of his show stopping number, "Gone," he'd fallen to his knees in front of me and apparently half the audience had captured it for posterity. And the Internet.

I had vague memories of a million flashbulbs while Justin and I were out there on the stage, but at the time I was too busy attempting to look cool with Justin fucking Timberlake on his knees in front of me.

But, man, we did look cool.

And now there were dozens of pictures to prove it. From every angle. Every second of those five minutes or so we were on stage appeared on the screen in front of me.

"What are you doing?"

I heard Nick's voice behind me and froze. Fuck. I was supposed to be in our room, not in the Internet Café.

No, fuck him. This was funny, and this was my life. I shouldn't have to be worried about what my boyfriend thought. I didn't want to feel guilty about what was one of the most amusing moments of my career.

It's not like he was feeling guilty about spending all his time with Aaron today or those beauty queens in Sweden. Okay, he'd apologized for that about 10 times, and he'd been better about his family since that first day. The three of us had just been up on deck playing basketball, but I was sick of being ganged up on while the girls all glared at me. So I left, complaining that I had a headache and needed to lie down out of the sun.

Well, I was out of the sun. So it's not like I'd lied. Not really.

Could he really blame me if I stopped by here to check my email and hear from the people who loved me?

"James sent me some links." I said, clicking back to my email and sending James my last message. "Did you know there is actually Justin/Jeremy fanfic? Jeremy is just gonna die and Justin…"

"Fucking hysterical, Rache," he said coldly, and I turned around in my chair, glaring at him.

"You don't get to ruin this. You don't get to make me feel guilty about having fun on this tour. And having new friends."

He looked over my shoulder, fuming when he saw the picture on the screen.

There was a picture of her and Justin on the screen. Some new friend! Is that what was making her giggle when I came in?

He was on his knees in front of her, leaning back as she played guitar like the rock star she was. She had one eyebrow raised as she contemplated him, sexy and gorgeous. That was my fucking look. That was how she looked at me in bed, in her best wanton sex goddess moments.

"Because why the fuck should you feel guilty for fucking around with Justin fucking Timberlake, when you were supposed to be with me?" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down.

"Masterful use of the word 'fuck' there, Nicky. You could give Jeremy a run for his money."

"Are there other pictures with him on your other side?" I bit out, and she looked at me for a long moment before turning around and shutting down the computer.

"I am so fucking sick of this, Nick," she sighed.

"Sick of what? Me catching you mooning over Justin fucking Timberlake?"

She grabbed her bag and stood up, walking by me and out of the café. I followed her, grabbing her arm. "Running away from the truth?"

"Stop it," she said, shaking my hand off. "You're being stupid."

What did she just call me? I just watched her for a second, and then ran to catch up with her at the elevator. "What did you say?"

She smiled at me. "I'll repeat it when we're alone in our room, sweetie."

I looked over my shoulder, pasting on a smile for the fans she'd just seen. I was glad when they got on the elevator with us, because it kept me from shaking my girlfriend.

I was not being stupid! If I'd been on tour with… Britney or someone, and there was a picture of us with me on my knees in front of her, Rachel would be furious.

We kept quiet until we got to our room, then I slammed the door shut behind us. "I am allowed to be angry about this, Rachel!"

"No, you're not. It was fucking nothing! You just came in there and ruined the most fun I've had on this stupid trip."

"All you have done is bitch. Thank god I'm going to London tomorrow! I can't wait to be away from you and this fucking cruise! And I know you can't wait to be with Justin again!"

She screamed, stomping her foot. "Do you actually fucking believe that this is about Justin? Justin? I am barely friends with Justin."

"It looks like you're a lot more than friends, Rachel."

"Oh, fuck you. It's nothing. We flirt and we play and it's fucking nothing. We do it because it's funny and because then people write about us instead of noticing how James and JC can't keep their hands off each other. I cannot believe that you, of all people, are believing my goddamn press!"

"I'm never sure if I should believe you, so why not your press?"

She stopped, just blinking at me for a moment. "I've never lied to you, Nick. Never. Not once. Why would you even think that?"

"You lied to me about being pregnant!" I spit out, and she reeled back like I'd hit her. She wasn't angry any longer, she was just confused, and I was starting to follow her. What was I so mad at?

"No I didn't," she said quietly. "I didn't tell you right away, but I never lied."

"You wanted to."

His voice cracked, and he looked away from me, blinking back tears. Where were we now? How did we get from Justin Timberlake to the abortion? And why were we here at all?

We still had issues with the abortion? I thought we'd talked this all out. Is that what the last couple of months had been? Did he hate it me for it and he couldn't tell me?

"Only because I was scared. As bad as things might be, they'd be worse if I hadn't told you, I know that."

He sat on the bed, covering his face with his hands. "I know, I know, I just…" He took a deep breath and looked at me. "That's not it," he whispered. "I'm just bringing it up to hurt you and make you feel guilty."

I blinked at him, trying not to cry. "Why are you trying to hurt me?" Jeremy used to do that, needle at me with little things to keep me off balance. Is that what Nick was doing?

He was, wasn't he?

"Because I'm an asshole. I'm sorry," he said. "This has been a horrible trip, and its all my fault."

"No. I've been a total bitch."

He nodded against me, and I whacked his shoulder. "You weren't supposed to agree with me!"

"Everything I do just pisses you off lately, Rache," he admitted, not looking up at me. "I feel like I can't win. No matter what I do, you get mad. If I do something with Aaron, I'm ignoring you. If I try to be with you, you think I'm just doing it because I feel guilty, and push me to be with the family."

He was absolutely right, and I couldn't defend myself. Sighing, I moved to sit on the bed behind him. "Come here," I said, motioning towards my lap. He laid down, his head in my lap, and we were quiet for a long minute as he let me stroke his hair.

"You know, bunny, I think if I'd had an abortion and toured with any other group in the world, we'd be fine right now."

He nodded. "Or if there was no abortion and you toured with *NSync, we'd be good."

"Yeah… because you told me it was fine when we decided to do it."

"It was. Sorta. I didn't think you'd spend so much time with them, Rache," he said, a bit bitterly.

Wait - he was talking about the *NSync tour? I spent all my time feeling guilty about the abortion and he was really mad that I was seeing Justin Timberlake every day?

"I'm sorry, Nick, I like them. They don't sing half as well as Backstreet, and the only hot one is JC," I assured him, and he sat up, half a smile crossing his face. "But I like them. They're just regular guys. They're not evil. I had fun on this tour, hanging out with them. I had to do something. Otherwise I'd just be moping in my hotel rooms, wondering why you weren't calling me."

Sighing, he leaned forward to rest his head on my shoulder. "You're not supposed to like them, Rache."

"I know. In the battle of the boybands, I'm a traitor. Believe me, I read the boards. But fuck the fans. I know who the best boy band in the world is, and the cutest boybander ever is right here in front of me."

He looked shocked by that and I had to remind myself just how insecure he could be. I rubbed his back, leaning in and whispering to him, "I love you so much, Nick. I hate it when we fight and it seems like that's all we can do lately."

"I'm sorry. I don't want to end up like my parents. No wonder I can't make this work. I have no role models for a good relationship, Rache."

"Bunny, don't say that. I was with Jeremy for four years, and I still hold out hope." He smiled at that and I felt myself relax a little. Maybe this is what we needed, to talk and be honest with each other, not gloss everything over with sex. "Are they driving you crazy?" It wasn't just me?

"Yes," he sighed. "Mom and Dad were just yelling at each other up on the deck. In front of people. It was so embarrassing."

"Is that why you were picking fights with me?" I teased, and he rolled on top of me with a laugh.

"No, I was picking fights because you looked way too hot in that picture with Justin." He nuzzled my neck, tickling me, and I giggled. "That was my wanton sex goddess look you were giving him!" he complained.

"Aw, honey, don't you think I should share the sex appeal with the world?"

"No!" he growled. "Just me. I'm going to lock you up in an ivory tower and keep you all to myself." He looked down at me with such a self-satisfied smirk that I had to laugh.

"Then I will have to have a knight in shining armor rescue me!" I complained. "Justin might look good in metal."

"You won't need to be rescued. I will give you everything you need, pretty dresses and lavish feasts and…" He gave up. "Whatever the hell else they have in fairy tales."

"Know what they don't have in fairy tales, Nicky?" He shook his head, and I wrapped my leg around his, pulling his hips down to meet mine. "Hot sex. Never any hot sex in the fairy tales."

"Then they suck," he asserted, leaning down to kiss me. I ran my fingers through his hair, holding his face to mine, whimpering slightly as his tongue slipped inside my mouth. We broke apart and he breathed my name, his eyes still closed. "I love you so much, Rachel."

"I know, bunny," I agreed. "I want this to be good again. Can we do that?"

He rolled to his side, pulling me close to him. "Promise."

"Call me when you're in London."

"I always call you, Rache. But you're busy."

"I won't be then. Call me. I know you're working, and that's important, but I miss you so much."

I kissed her. "Fuck London. I'll come to the Point with you."

"No. You're working, and that's fine. Just make a little effort to call me, okay?"

"It's like a five hour time difference."

"I don't care. We'll work it out. We have before. But I don't even know your schedule any more."

"I'm not the only one who's busy, Rache. This isn't all my fault."

"I know." She snuggled closer to me, resting her head against my chest. I liked her here. I'd forgotten how well she fit against me. "But… I'm normal busy. I'm just touring. You're recording, and flying all over, and having business meetings, and doing boat stuff. Can you squeeze me in somewhere?"

I hugged her closer. "I'll squeeze you in right here."

"That's not what I meant, Nick."

We were so fucked up. I knew it was a stupid joke, but… "I promise to call you every day."

"You used to want to talk to me all the time."

"I still do!"

I felt her shake her head against my chest. "I don't know anything you've been doing lately. I didn't know any of this boat stuff until like two weeks ago, and you bought it months ago."

She didn't? But I thought I'd told her.

"You know, Rache, sometimes I'm stupid. I wasn't keeping things from you. The boat stuff, that's like another life."

"But I want to be part of that life, too, Nick. I love all of you, not just the music guy."

Looking down at the top of her head, I blinked back tears. I'd never felt this emotional with a girl ever. Was this proof that I was in love or proof that I was addicted to the drama of it all?

I went with the love part, tilting her face toward mine so I could kiss her again. Sex didn't solve our problems, but sometimes they made it a little easier to see through them.

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