“Nice wheels,” I tease, meeting Miranda outside so I could have a cigarette. She’s actually driving a car that she’s renting through her insurance company. I think she’s the only person in all of California with a Neon. “This tin can go over thirty?”

“This tin can is driving your sorry ass home, so get in,” she answers through the window, laughing and giving me a kiss once I get in with a little wincing. She touches her hand to my knee before putting the car in gear, and we start off. “How’re you?”

“Just dandy,” I answer ironically.

“When’s the surgery scheduled?”

“August twenty-sixth or twenty-seventh, something like that. Depends. Right now, they want to see what happens once the swelling goes down a bit, but it’s pretty torn, apparently.”

“Ouch…is there a lot of pain?”

“Yeah…that.” She gives me a quick, curious look as we make our way through the busy downtown streets. “He gave me something, but…I think I’m gonna try going without it.”

“You’re scared, huh?” There’s such an understanding tone in that, not even a question, really. “Do you want to get it and I’ll hold onto it? Just in case the pain gets too bad later on…that way I’ll have control of it? Or, do you just not want it in the house at all?”

“He said it wasn’t addictive.” I offer lamely, but part of me doesn’t quite seem to care too much about that. I’m hearing ‘drugs’ and even just thinking about it, my palms are sweating.

“It’s entirely up to you,” she says, squeezing my hand gently, “whatever you decide.”

She trusts me? We’re talking about drugs, and she trusts me to make the right decision? My brain is going through hours of therapy on fast forward, and years of abuse before that in slow motion, and she’s telling me I get to choose? God damn…she trusts me! I wipe my free hand down my jeans and look out the window for a minute. “Let’s just hold off and see what happens,” I finally answer quietly, suddenly panicking about what’s going to happen after surgery. This I may be able to handle with a handful of aspirin or something, but after they cut me open, it might be a different story.

“I’m just going to put this out there, so feel free to tell me to fuck off,” she says after a minute or so of awkward silence. I just turn and look at her. “Not all drugs are evil, baby. Sometimes, they can help if they’re not abused. Again, tell me to fuck off if I’m completely out of line.” We’ve never discussed this, have we? I’ve never really sat down with her and talked about it, even after nine months of dating and being intimate. It’s not something I’ve avoided, but it’s never really been at the forefront of our conversations. “I’m just saying it because you go out with Nick and he’s drinking, and we’ve been out to a couple of clubs with your friends and they’ve been drinking on occasion, and yeah, there was that time you got nervous, but you backed off when you didn’t trust yourself. I’m just thinking…maybe this is something similar but you just weren’t confronted with it until now.”

When I look over at her, she looks positively petrified, and I suppose that’s probably because she’s just taking a stab in the dark, not knowing what I think about any of it, other than how important sobriety is in my life now. And it dawns on me that she’s completely post-AJ. She’s never known me as a drinking person – at all. No point of reference to know what everyone around me went through. That might be both a blessing and a curse, and part of me wants to whip out the cell and call Sarah to see what she thinks. I also know that that wouldn’t be the right thing to do, either. Not when Miranda's basically asking me to share it all with her.

“Like I said, you can tell me to fuck off if I’m out of line,” she mumbles awkwardly, biting her lips together nervously.

I guess I’m a little quiet. “It’s not that,” I start with a quick shake of my head. “I’ve just got a ton of things running through my head.”

“Okay,” she says simply.

“It’s just, yeah, you’re right. I haven’t been confronted with it before. I mean…” I exhale heavily and close my eyes for a second, attempting to keep my head from whirling right off my shoulders. “I wasn’t all that picky before…with what I took, I mean. If it was going to numb me, or bring me down to sleep, cut the high…whatever, I was going to take it. And sometimes it’s still hard. When I’m laying there for hours on end in bed trying to sleep and – nothing, you know? It was really easy to get back into the habit, and justify to myself that I needed it. And once I went there, the rest wasn’t far behind. Right off the wagon. So, yeah, I’m scared. Because I know how easy it is for me to take those steps back, and it gets harder each time to take those steps forward again each time.” She nods easily, just listening, and gives my hand another squeeze. “And, not to make you feel bad or anything, but that’s one of the main reasons why Sarah and I stayed close. Because she knows what happens to me, she knows the signs and makes me listen to her when I’m being incredibly stupid. She saw a lot more than anyone else did. The rest of the fellas knew what was going on, but she…she lived it. She had to go to sleep not knowing if I was going to wake up in the morning. And when I lost it, she stayed until I got a grip again, in spite of what I said or did.” And what did I do to re-pay her for that? Screwed around on her. Real nice of me, huh? Why she still talks to me is beyond my comprehension. We’ll never get back together, it’s beyond that now, but I can’t imagine her not being part of my life.

“I’d like to meet her someday,” Miranda says, glancing over to me. She looks a little…scared, I think, but she attempts a smile and this time, I squeeze her hand.

“She’ll like you a lot,” I tell her with a smile. “Totally approve.” And again, Miranda watches the traffic and nods.

‘Well, if Sarah is so fab, what the hell are you doing here with me? And isn’t it bad enough that I have to get approval from your family? Do I have to get approval from your ex too?’ I want to ask. But truthfully? I don’t want to know the answer. ‘Oh, hey baby, you’re just the runner-up,’ really won’t help much, but that’s pretty much how I’m feeling right now. What am I supposed to say? I’m trying to be understanding. I’m trying to figure out what she means to him. I’m not begrudging him of maintaining a friendship with her, but I get the sense that maybe he wishes things were different, that maybe he wishes she was here instead of me right now. She understands him so well. I’m never going to, am I? Whenever there’s a chance to get close, he goes back to her? Is that the way this is supposed to go? Am I being unreasonable?

Thankfully we’re at the house, and I can disappear for a minute and try to get my bearings back. I can feel him watching me. It's so hard trying to be ‘okay’ with everything he’s saying. I don’t want to be one of those girlfriends that panic at the mention of some other woman. I don’t want to be one of those girlfriends that’s insecure because he’s friends with his ex.

“Are you hungry? Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Nah,” he says as we make our way into the house. His cell rings, and I’m actually relieved. Maybe we can change the topic from Sarah. Maybe I can stop obsessing about her. Maybe it’s just all in my head. Obviously, if they were going to get back together, they’d have done so by now, right? But I still feel like I’m competing. I’m not half as pretty as she is. I’m not in the Industry. I don’t sing, or dance, or act. We barely get to see each other. I mean, I can’t just pick up and travel around with him like she did. Apparently, I don’t get to understand him. What am I doing here? What does he need me for?

Stop obsessing, Andi. You are here. She isn’t. There’s something in that. He’s told you he loves you. He brought your mom and Jeannie here for you. He asked you to move in. That’s not false pretenses, you know.

He settles in the entertainment room, still on the phone, explaining to whoever what the doctor said while flipping through the channels on TV. I have to pull myself together. I’m having a bad day and reading too much into things. Give yourself some time, I remind myself. Relationships take time. Trust and understanding takes time. A couple of months isn’t enough to combat the past he shares with Sarah. He might be a little gun shy too. Ever think of that? So, just chill out. Take a deep breath.

“Hey, Kevin and Kris are gonna stop by,” he calls. I straighten my skirt and take a deep breath, putting a smile on my face before I go into the entertainment room. “We obviously have to do some schedule changes, so he’s gonna see if anyone else can make it.”

“You up to that?”

He lifts a shoulder, and I get the distinct feeling that it wouldn’t matter if he was or wasn’t. He’s been programmed to take control of his destiny, whether or not he’s tired or in pain. And I don’t think he ever considered factoring that sort of thing in, or any of them, probably. Hell, if they had , they wouldn’t be the Backstreet Boys, now, would they? Procrastination is not in their rider, is it? The more I hang out with them, the more I’m beginning to understand. It’s almost as if an obstacle motivates them. When things are going well, they’re very unsettled. “Well, do you want me to go out and pick up something for dinner?”

“Nah, we’ll just order something in.” He stretches his hand out to me over the back of the couch, and I head over towards him. He gracefully swings his hand over the top of his head, leading me to the opposite side of the couch, so I can sit down before leaning up to kiss me quickly. “You going to stick around?”

“If you’re going to work with the boys…”

“I was kind of hoping you’d stay.” Okay, I’m just a sucker, aren’t I? After all that talk about Sarah? Knowing there’s going to be a house full of his friends talking about things I have no clue about? Knowing I should be back at the office after five days of being out? But all I really want to do is stay right here, cradled with my head in the crook of his neck. All he had to do was say ‘stay,’ and I’m letting every responsible thought flit away, right out of my head. I’m a responsible adult, damn it! What’s happening to me? “They won’t be long,” he continues. “At least, I don’t think they will.”

“Well, if I stay, then I have to give myself an excuse. At the very least, dinner.”

“You crack me up,” he chuckles. “But if that’s what it takes, fine. Dinner it is!”

I’m checking the pasta…all boys like pasta, right?...when Kevin wanders into the kitchen. “Dang, you do windows, too?”

“Are you allowed to be in here?” I crack back. “Aren’t you supposed to be scheming and planning with everyone else?”

“Scheming and planning? Nick is currently beating the pants off Alex on Play Station,” he laughs lightly. “And that’s only because Nick beat the pants off me.” I lift an eyebrow, lean over the island slightly and look at his waist. “Yeah, you wish.” He gives me a scolding look but cracks up. “Need any help?” He's already started pushing up the sleeves on his tee shirt and looking around the kitchen.

“Wow, do you do dishes, too?” I tease with a wink.

“Well, if you’re gonna be all sarcastic and shit…” he starts, resting a hand on his hip and giving me a look.

I wag a spoon at him. “Language, Mr. Richardson, language,” I laugh. “How about making the salad?” I point the spoon toward the salad fixings. “We’re just about ready to go.”

“I’m all over the salad,” he says. “So, he said you’re playing hookey?”

“Having a hissy fit, yeah.”

“You’re allowed to have a hissy fit and not lose your job?”

“I guess I’ll find out now, won’t I?” I stir the pasta again and check on the sauce. “I’ve never had one before, so I’m not sure.”

He steadily rips lettuce into a large bowl. “We’re all allowed a hissy fit once in awhile. Keeps us sane, if you ask me.”

“Can I ask you something?” He looks down at me, still ripping. “Why isn’t Alex with Sarah anymore?”

“You have to ask Alex that.”

“Honestly? I’m afraid of what the answer might be.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because part of me thinks that maybe he wants to be.” There. I said it. Now…what’s the reaction from Kevin? He just looks at the bowls and keeps ripping up the head of lettuce. Hard to read his expression that way, damn it!

I hear him take a breath, though. “They have a history, I guess. But if they wanted to be together, I think they would have figured it out by now. I think they may have figured out that they’re great friends but the relationship was forced.”

I shouldn’t feel happy about that, should I? Too late, though, because I could feel my heart skip a cheerful beat. “Did you think it was forced?”

“In a way,” he admits, nodding at the counter. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I didn’t think they weren’t good for each other, but I never got that passion from them.”

“Well, honey, not every couple has that passion like you have with Kristin.”

“Well, they should,” he says seriously, finally looking over, “because without it, nothing works. There needs to be something besides sheer will to keep things going, especially when you have the kind of jobs we do.”

“Oh, sure…be philosophical about it,” I grumble playfully.

He cackles, finishing the lettuce with a flair. “Philosophical? No, but, um…” He winks at me with a nod, “...a good place to start is communication. Like, maybe talking to each other about questions you might have, maybe? Sorta? Kinda?”

“Oh, please, where’s all the drama in that?” I ask, rolling my eyes with my own shake of my head. “Boys, just don’t get it sometimes!” He responds by throwing a piece of lettuce at me.

“How’s it feeling?” Kevin asks, finding me outside while I’m leaning over and holding onto my knee, wincing. I force a smile and sit back, not even really trying to hide that it’s starting to throb again. “Cortisone not working enough?” I just look down at my knee, willing it to fix itself. “Did they give you something?” I nod again. “Want me to go get it?”

“I didn’t pick it up,” I answer, still staring down.

“Dude, you’re gonna need it,” he tells me, sitting on the lounge chair and facing me, clasping his hands together. You know what that means, don’t you? He wants to talk. He only does that hand clasp when he wants to talk about something. Hands clasped and that serious look on his face…I’m heading for a conversation, and really, the last thing I can concentrate on is some deep conversation. “You want me to go pick it up?”

“I don’t want it, Kevin.” I turn from my knee to stare him down. That’s my trick to let him know I’m serious.

He lifts an eyebrow, but keeps his eyes on me. “You will.” He motions to my leg. “It won't fix itself overnight, you know. You blew it out, Alex.”

“I’ll ice it,” I answer lamely.

“I will drive over every four hours and give you a pill if you don’t want it in the house.” He would, too, the bastard.

“And what happens when I don’t have to take them anymore?” I ask him. “You gonna come over every four hours to make sure I’m not? Because, yeah, now it seems like a great idea, but now isn’t what I’m worried about.”

“You’re not that person anymore, Alex,” he says quietly, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You’re head and shoulders above him and when the time comes, you’ll walk away from it.”

I just look at him, wishing I could be that confident in myself. I don’t want to be that person, but we all know that I’m more than capable of being him, and none of us like him very much. “Or limp away, at any rate,” I attempt to crack with a grin, but he knows me too well.

“Al…” he sighs heavily. “Is there more to this?”

“More?”

“You having second thoughts about Miranda?”

Whoa! That’s out of left field, isn’t it? “Miranda?”

“Thinking about Sarah?” he fishes a little deeper.

All I do is scrunch my forehead together, completely confused. “Sarah?”

“I’m just asking.”

“No, Kev. If I’m thinking about Sarah, it’s because when I did jump off that wagon, she was able to get me back on it.”

“Other people can help with that, you know, if you talk to them about it.”

“Say what you mean, Kev,” I mumble, dropping my head back and closing my eyes. “I can’t concentrate.”

“You’ve got a good thing going, and I know you’re not going to fuck it up,” he tells me. “And Miranda’s pretty understanding, too.”

“I know,” I agree. “We talked earlier…” And it dawns on me. He's talked to her, too, hasn't he? “Wait a minute, did she say something to you?”

There’s hesitation, and he gives me a quick look. “Yes…and no.”

“Okay, let’s go back to, dude, I can’t concentrate very well right now. Just say it, okay?”

“She asked why you weren’t with Sarah anymore,” he tells me quickly. “I told her to ask you. Didn’t want to get into it since it’s not my business.”

“Okay…” Miranda’s asking Kevin about Sarah? What the hell is up with that? “I’ll…bring it up.”

“She wasn’t prying,” he clarifies quickly. “I think she’s just…confused about what’s going on, I guess. At least, that’s the feeling I got. It wasn’t a…thing, you know?”

“Alright.”

“Alex, let me go pick up the prescription.” He puts a hand on my shoulder again and squeezes. “It’s not gonna get any better.”

“Yeah…alright,” I agree, closing my eyes and just giving in to the throbbing. If it’s going to make it stop now, I’ll deal with the consequences later. He’s right: it’s not going to get any better by just wishing it away.

“We got your back, Alex,” he says before standing up. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah…sure.”

Dropping my head back against the lounge chair, I just close my eyes and concentrate on breathing. A few minutes later, I hear the screen door and feel a soft hand run through my hair. “You okay?” Miranda asks, sitting next to me on the chair. “Here.” She hands me a pill, and I give her a weird look. “I picked up the script when I went shopping before, just in case it got too bad, so you could to avoid the wait if it got too bad. I wasn’t going to say anything unless you asked for it.”

I drop the pill into my mouth and swallow it with my iced tea, and then I put my hand behind her neck and bring her in for a quick kiss. “Thank you,” I say quietly, taking a deep breath. Just knowing help is minutes away helps me relax just a little.

“I didn’t want to go behind your back or anything,” she keeps explaining. “I just kind of figured you’d be in a lot of pain later on and didn’t want to…”

“It’s cool, Andi,” I tell her with a slow smile. “To be honest, I think part of me hoped you did that.”

“You want to go inside and get into bed?”

“No,” I tell her, attempting to slide over a little bit so I can pull her next to me. “It’s kind of nice out here. I’m guessing everyone went home?”

She settles against me and rests her head on my shoulder. “Yeah, they’ll check up on you tomorrow.” I just nod, closing my eyes again. “They figured you were getting tired when you came out here.”

“I guess it’s just catching up to me,” I say. “You know, ‘here we go again, Alex is holding us back again.’”

“They are so not thinking that!” she protests, sitting up straight and looking at me. “Please, Alex! This is an accident! Did any of you think that when Kevin had to get his surgery right before that other tour?”

“We joked about it,” I tell her with a smirk.

“But you didn’t believe it…and neither do they,” she volleys back playfully. “It’s just lousy timing, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” I sigh while she slowly runs her hand through the stubble of hair I have. “I tend to…”

“Dwell?” she finishes for me with a smile.

I nod. “Be the pessimist.”

“Oh, now you’re stepping in on Kevin’s job, aren’t you? Or is that Nick’s? It’s somebody's jobs but not yours.” She shakes my head side to side with her hand.

“Mine,” I inform her. “If it can go wrong, it’ll be me.” I point to myself and smirk again. “You better study up on those videos, Babe.”

“Shush,” she puts a finger over my lips and leans over to kiss me. “Who needs a video when I have something even better?” My response is a yawn. The pill is starting to kick in, and I can already feel my eyes watering with sleep and the rim of my vision getting ‘fluffy’ or something. “We’ll finish this conversation another time. You should get into bed. You’re short, but I still can’t carry you myself upstairs.”

“Nice,” I sneer playfully. “Now I’m a short cripple?”

“But you’re cute!” she giggles, and all I can do is shake my head at her. I’m not cute, she is, and I tell her so. “And now you’re getting mushy, so it’s time to get you to bed. Come on, Gimpy.”

She lies next to me once we make it upstairs, and man, I never realized how comfortable this bed could be. I don’t even realize I’m asleep until I feel her move away. “Thank you,” I mumble, unable to move.

“Sleep,” she whispers, standing over me.

“Really, thank you. For everything…I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too, now sleep.”

When I wake up, it takes a minute for me to remember that Miranda should be here with me. I mean, let’s be honest, she could have slept anywhere, and I wouldn’t have had a clue. You take those things, and it’s more like being hit over the head with a 2 by 4 without the pain. I know I wasn’t moving a lot last night, and the other side looks slept in, anyway.

I pull the sheet aside and look down at my leg, still wrapped tightly in the brace. Not that you can really see that it’s swollen, but I think I can tell. It feels swollen, with a slight throb now that I’m awake, but it’s better since it was elevated all night, I’m guessing. With a deep breath, I make my way out of bed and start hobbling downstairs, feeling a lot more sympathy for Miranda having had to do this last week with a sprained ankle. It’s a lot of work not having use of all your limbs!

I start calling ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’ as I make my way down and find her in the kitchen on the phone. “Why, yes, that would be Alex now,” she chuckles. “Hold on one second.” She hands the phone out to me. “It’s your mom.”

I lean over and kiss Miranda good morning as I take the phone. “Hi, Ma, I’m fine.” I sit down at the table and automatically reach for my cigarettes and light up. I heard somewhere that you can judge how addicted you are to these things by how long it takes for you to have your first one of the day. Going by that, I’m pretty damn addicted. Miranda gets up and moves around the kitchen while I tell Mom what’s going on and try to tell her that she doesn’t have to come over here and tend to my needs. I’m not sure she likes that too much, especially when I tell her that Miranda’s here in case I need something. I get that weird silence and fake ‘oh, that’s good’ response. I really want to tell her that I’m not six anymore, but I don’t want to crush her completely.

I feel Miranda put her hand on my shoulder, and a mug of coffee is set in front of me, along with an ashtray. How cool is it that I don’t have to move for at least another ten minutes? Like I said, it’s a lot of work not having use of all your limbs! And just as I start listening to Mom again, Miranda pulls a chair over and motions for me to put my leg up. Damn, service, huh?

“No, Ma, she’s doing much better,” I tell her when she tries to say Miranda isn’t up to taking care of me. We’re a pair, aren’t we? Both of us gimping along? Granted, she’s not gimping anymore, but still… “Would it be okay if I called you back? I just got up…Okay, love you too…bye.”

Miranda sits across from me and reaches her hand out, resting her chin in the palm of her other. “Your mother hates me,” she says with such finality…and a smile.

“No, she doesn’t.” I blow a stream of smoke out and tap the cigarette on the side of the ashtray, rolling it slightly to form a cone on the burning tip. “She just doesn’t like that I’m all grown up and don’t need her for everything anymore.”

She purses her lips together and tilts her head side to side. “I still don’t think she likes me.”

I squeeze her hand, slowly shaking my head. “It’s just…the way she is, baby. She takes time to warm up to people, especially people that I warm up to. My track record hasn’t been the greatest, you know? She’s just trying to suss you out. Hang in there, she’ll come around.”

“Like she did with Sarah?” she asks with an edge in her voice, and she looks immediately embarrassed and shocked all at once. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean that.”

She tries to pull her hand away but I won’t let go. “Mmm, yeah, you did,” I contradict, stubbing the cigarette out. “And…I’m guessing that you might be a little uncomfortable when it comes to Sarah.” She just inhales deeply and looks away. “Kevin said something last night.”

“I…” She starts, and then her shoulders drop. “That was really stupid of me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Suddenly she looks so scared, guilty maybe? “What’s the problem with Sarah, baby?”

“There isn’t one, really,” she hedges, trying again to pull her hand away, but again, I won’t let her. I just hold a little tighter and rub my thumb over the back of her hand. “Not personally anyway. And I’m sure she’s a great person. I know how much she means to you.”

“But?” I prompt, lifting her hand slightly, trying to get her to look at me. It doesn’t work.

“But I can’t help but wonder why you’re not with her instead of me,” she says in one quick breath. “Because it’s obvious that she still means a lot to you, and I’m scared that it may not be finished between you, and I don’t want to end up…”

“You’re not,” I interrupt. “You’re right, she means a lot to me, but it’s finished, Miranda. It has been, and that’s not a bad thing. We had something, yeah. We were engaged…but I cheated on her and no matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t going to trust me again. But that doesn’t erase the fact that we love each other in some capacity. We tried but we’re not going to make it work, and to be honest, I think I like the friendship I have with her now better than what we had. I think she likes it better too. You don’t have to worry about her, Miranda. I’m with you now. Want to be with you now. And I’m really excited to see what happens between us.”

She’s looking at me now, smiling though there are tears in her eyes. “Me too,” she tells me quietly. “I just got scared because you talk about all those things she understands...like I won’t be able to, or something, and I’m never going to if I’m left out of the things that…make you who you are. Do you think I’m not going to be able to understand, Alex? That I’m not aware how hard things can get? Because I am. I’m not here just because…I don’t know…just for the fun of it. I know there’s a flip side too, and I want to be there for that as well, you know? I’m not saying I want to be the be-all and end-all of your life. I just want to be included in it. And wow, this is pretty heavy for the first thing in the morning, isn’t it?” she tries to joke.

But I can sense the fear in her. She attempts to draw her hand back again, but this time, I lift it to my lips and kiss it gently. “It’s all very new to me, Miranda, and I’m still trying to figure out how to handle the emotions that get thrown at me. Sometimes, it’s just reflex to go back to the people that I trusted in the past and stood by me than attempt to drag it all with me. I guess I didn’t want to have to burden you with everything, but it’s there regardless of me talking about it or not. I’ll try not to be so closed off when it comes to everything. I was just trying to spare you and not get you overwhelmed.”

“It takes a lot to get me overwhelmed,” she tells me, squeezing my hand and offering a smile. “And again, I’m really sorry I said anything to Kevin. It was so…eighth grade of me.”

“I can relate to eighth grade. I don’t have much experience after that, but eighth grade I can handle. And don’t worry, you didn’t freak Kevin out. He just used it as a chance to let me know that he knew something was going on. He gets a little nervous when I shut him out, too.”

“Mmm, funny that.”

“Yeah, funny that. Just, next time, let’s forego the middle man and talk to each other, okay?”

“That sounds like a good plan.” She nods, looking down to our hands. “Can I have my hand back now? I kind of want to get some coffee for myself now.” I kiss the back of her hand again before releasing her, and she stops in front of my chair on her way towards the coffee for a real one.