Oreos for Breakfast

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 36
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

The cold was beginning to get to me. I had to put on ten layers of clothes to leave the house without risking frostbite. Then I had to remove about eight layers of clothes for physical therapy. By the time I had to put them all back on to meet James for lunch I was nearly in tears.

New York in the winter could be an obstacle course. We hadn’t had much snow, but you never knew when you’d run into a patch of ice where the snow hadn’t been cleared. And with my newly weak knee I still wasn’t sure of my footing. I didn’t know how I was going to tour. My therapist told me that I couldn’t stand on it for longer than an hour without resting.

Just navigating the city made me tired. I couldn’t imagine dealing with the human obstacle course along with the subway stairs and slippery sidewalks, and then having to go to work at an actual job or something. At least I was just doing this to meet James for lunch at Serendipity. Maybe by the time we were done, I’d be warm enough that the idea of frozen hot chocolate wouldn’t sound ludicrous.

I knew he wanted to see me for lunch -- just the two of us, no band, no JC -- because he was worried about me. Ever since AJ had left, it had been easier to just stay inside most of the time. I loved my apartment and anything I needed could be delivered.

Didn’t I deserve the chance to hibernate a little? We’d be promoting the new album and touring soon enough. I liked being on my own. It wasn’t like I never saw anyone. James and JC came over a couple of times a day.

JC was starting to make noises about going back to LA where it was warm, and I didn’t blame him. But James didn’t want to go unless he knew that I’d be okay on my own.

I’d be fine.

Why was I going to lunch again? I already knew everything he was going to say to me.

I came up the subway steps into the sunshine and saw James just down the street. “James!” I yelled, hurrying to catch up with him.

One minute I was standing upright, and the next I was sprawled on the ground.

Fucking patches of ice.

“Shit,” James said, coming over to me. “Are you okay?”

I laid there for a second, blinking at him. How many times had I done this? Was I the clumsiest person in the world or what?

“Can you sit up?” he asked, looking worried, and I nodded, sitting up. I couldn’t talk or I knew I’d burst into tears, and people were looking at us.

Maybe they weren’t. It was New York, after all.

“Come on,” he said, pulling me to my feet. My knee popped as I righted myself and I felt my muscle seize up, and I couldn’t hold back the tears. A month of physical therapy and now I’d hurt it again?

“What is it, baby?” James asked, catching me. “Your knee?”

“I hate winter,” I said, and he hugged me.

“Winter sucks,” he agreed, placating me. “But you’re well padded. I bet you’re fine.”

I let him keep an arm around me while I took another step, considering carefully. It was sore, but I was okay. I might have to add a couple of physical therapy sessions, but I could walk, and I felt stupid for panicking.

“I’m okay,” I told him, moving away from his embrace.

“Good,” he said, still concerned, and I turned around, heading back towards the subway.

“But I’m not hungry. I just want to go home.”

“You’ll regret that later,” he said, grabbing my hand before I could get too far away and gently pulling me back. “You’re already here. Let’s go to lunch.”

I started to say something, but the look on his face convinced me otherwise. I’d suffer through a quick lunch and convince James that I was fine. Then I could go home and take a hot bath in my great tub. Back to hibernation.

I was pretty quiet until after we’d ordered lunch, and James leaned across the table, taking my hands. “You know why we’re here.”

“You’re worried about me. Did we really have to leave the house to have this talk?”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time at home, Rachel. Yes, it’s good to get out and have a change of scenery.”

“I like being home,” I told him taking my hands back to pour sugar in my tea. “It’s cold outside and I have everything I need. Why should I leave?”

“Because I know what happens when you don’t leave the house.”

I scowled up at him. “Not the same thing, James.” After Dad had died, I hadn’t left the house for weeks. Hell, we recorded the album there because I couldn’t leave.

“No?” he asked. “I’m not saying losing Nick is the same thing as losing your dad. But you’re just staying home, drowning in your thoughts, and that doesn’t make anything better.”

“I’m not drowning in my thoughts!”

He raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. “What are you doing?”

“I’m…” I wasn’t doing much. Watching some TV. Reading a lot. Cooking. Napping. I talked to AJ almost every day. “I’m hibernating.”

James smiled. “Good try. You’re moping.”

“I’m just taking a break before we’re back to work. We were working up until Christmas. It hasn’t been that long. I just want a little downtime.”

“That’s fine, and I get that. But this is a little crazy, Rachel. And I know how you get in the winter, when it’s cold and dark.” He looked at the menu like he didn’t have it memorized and wouldn’t be getting the same thing he always got. James used to have a crush on one of the waiters and we came here a lot.

“I’m just staying inside where it’s warm. I’m not planning on cutting my wrists or anything.” Was it too cold for a salad? Probably. I needed soup or something warm.

“I know. I’m not worried about that. I’m just… you’re spending too much time thinking about Nick and Paris, and not enough time thinking of you.”

I shot him a glare over my menu. “I am not.”

He just raised an eyebrow at me, and I looked back at my tea. “It’s not like I can avoid them. Hell, they just went to the Bahamas, and there were pictures of them every day.”

“Only if you get online and look for them. Or watch the entertainment news shows at night.”

I wrinkled my nose at him, making him laugh.

“Do I need to take your computer away?” He said, sounding like my parent, not my best friend. Was he going to use reverse psychology on me next?

“No,” I said. “It’s not just Nick anyway. Seeing him all happy and blond with her doesn’t help, but that’s not it. It’s just cold and it’s months until it’s warm again and all I see ahead of me is working my ass off to promote an album that the record company hates.”

He took my hand again. “But we love it.”

I shrugged. “Do we? It’s all ballads. Do we really have to tour that?”

“It’s not all ballads. Okay, it’s a lot of ballads. But really good ones. I can’t wait to get out there and play it. And you’ve got the charity show with Shirley in a couple of weeks.”

“More ballads,” I complained. “That’s why I’m depressed. I’m working on all these break-up songs.”

Our waiter arrived before James could say anything. We ordered what we always do and agreed to trade halves of sandwiches, because we were tragically co-dependent that way.

“Want to come to LA with me and JC?” He said, once the waiter was out of earshot.

“Are you going?” I leaned forward in my chair.

“Once I make sure you’re okay, yes. It’s warm there.”

“I hate LA.”

“You have mentioned that on occasion.”

“I do, though! Everything is a half hour drive. That’s not relaxing… and all the paparazzi.” I chill ran down my spine as I remembered my experience at the Grammy Awards last year when I’d fainted and there had been a million photos of it online the next day. And Nick and Paris couldn’t go anywhere without their every move being captured. It was really spooky.

Besides, Nick was in LA. I couldn’t be there. Not when he was there with her. What if we ran into them out at a restaurant or something? I shuddered at the thought.

“You are not Paris Hilton, Ms. Big Head! And we’ll rent you a convertible so driving is fun.”

“I hate driving the damn freeways with the top down. I feel too exposed.”

He rolled his eyes. “Bitch bitch bitch.”

“Do you just need me to be your cover?”

“No,” he said. “I’ll have a hotel room and can just say I’m taking a break before the album comes out.”

“You’re going to get caught one of these days.”

He smiled. “I plan to be a little reckless in LA. I think he’s going to figure out it’s easier to be out soon.”

“Good,” I said, smiling. “I hope he does. Although I can’t imagine you happier.”

“We’re not talking about me.”

“You think it’s easy for me to see the two of you all happy and in love? Or Jeremy or Darien, for that matter? How did you guys figure it all out and I’m still out here in the cold?”

“You’re not, Rachel. You’re just… you’re taking some time for yourself.”

“I should be,” I admitted. “But I don’t really know what that means. I don’t think it means watching the Gilmore Girls for hours and reading tacky romance novels, which is pretty much what I’m doing.”

“I think it means… that you need to figure out what you want.”

“But what does that mean? Am I supposed to make a list of all the things I want in a guy? I did that in seventh grade and it didn’t exactly work out the way I expected.”

“Sorry,” he said, since he was the guy I’d been wanting in seventh grade.

Our food came and we traded sandwiches without even commenting on it. We ate in silence for a moment, while he tried to come up with some better advice.

“Maybe it means being okay if you don’t have a guy. Not needing a boyfriend to tell you how awesome you are.”

“AJ said pretty much the same thing.” I said.

“For an over-tattooed boybander, he’s a pretty smart guy.”

“He is,” I agreed. Usually when we talked, he sounded calm and patient while he waited for Sarah to figure out what she wanted. He was even pretty Zen about the fact that she probably wouldn’t want him in the end.

“You shouldn’t just be waiting for April, you know.”

“I’m seeing Nick in March.” I reminded him. I can’t believe he got that wrong.

“And you might be seeing AJ in April.”

Why did I tell James all of my secrets? I wrinkled my nose at him. “Would you kick him out of bed?”

“Well, no. But you shouldn’t just be waiting until you can be with a Backstreet Boy again.”

“I’m really not. It might look that way, but I’m not. I’m just a little bored and depressed and I don’t know what I should be doing with myself. You’re going off to LA, and Nick and Paris were just in the Bahamas, and hell, I was supposed to be going to Puerto Rico with Ben next week.”

James considered me for a moment. “Do you just want a vacation?”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant that everyone else has plans and something to do, and I don’t.”

“Because you can take a vacation. You could take a really good vacation, at an exclusive resort where you get massages every day and hunky cabana boys peel your grapes before feeding them to you.”

“That’s not what I…” I stopped myself. “That’s not what meant, but I could go somewhere sunny.”

“I’m sure I could talk JC into going.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I think I want to go by myself. I’ll be way less depressed if it’s warm and sunny.”

“Now I want to go!” James whined.

“Find your own private island! I want to go somewhere and just lie on a beach for a week.”

“No sex with the hunky cabana boys.” He reminded me and I scowled at him, vowing to quit telling him all my secrets.

“No?”

“I’m keeping you to that New Year’s resolution, if only because I love to torture you.”

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