“I’m not going!”
By morning Lance had over 20 messages on his voicemail. Management was giving him either two options, to either tell them why he wasn’t in Orlando, or fly back home immediately. He tried to negotiate, but they weren’t hearing it. ‘N Sync was a well oiled machine and he was a key part in keeping it running; therefore he couldn’t run away from his responsibilities.
“Where else are you going to go?” he said, standing at the front of the bed, arguing at the girl sitting on it. He had just brought up his idea from last night to her. To say she hadn’t responded with a jump for joy would have been an understatement.
“I’ll find somewhere. I don’t want your pity.”
“For the last time, I don’t pity you. You’re my friend and whether you like it or not I’m involved now Hazel. You involved me when you called me last night for my help, and as far as I’m concerned you need it still.”
“I don’t,” she said stubbornly. As if to prove it to him, she threw off the covers, wincing by that action alone, and tried to bring herself to her feet. He allowed her this display, but was by her side the instant she attempted to stand alone. “Leave me alone.”
He helped her back down and then took a knee, keeping her hand in his to show her that he was indeed just offering his help. “You have no where to live and you can’t possibly work in your condition. And I can’t leave here knowing that Jared could come back for you. Do you understand that? What’s keeping you here anyway?”
She opened her mouth to say something, but realized that there was no answer for that question. Nothing was keeping her in New Orleans, besides maybe the friendship she had with Sita and Karen. But she was still indignant on going with him. She had never left that city, had never known anything besides New Orleans. The idea of leaving it with some strange boy and going to nothing was frightening.
“Where am I going to stay?” she ask in a more calm voice.
“With me.” He grinned when she rolled her eyes. “Yes, that’s right, I’m going to take full advantage of you then. Because of course I didn’t have opportunity enough when you were passed out in this hotel room.”
“How do I know you didn’t?”
“Good question.”
She had to smile. “Why would you want me to come? You have this whole world you have to deal with, why would you want me as another burden?”
“You’re not in any way a burden to me. I want you to come.”
“Why?”
He was about to say something, but stopped himself. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was about to let slip out, but he knew that it wasn’t something he was ready to say. “For your company. I hate flying, but I especially hate flying by myself. What do you say?”
She sighed and shook her head. “No.”
Helplessly he looked around the room, trying to figure out a way in which to convince her. “Ok, fine. Just know this. I’m not going to leave you here.”
“Don’t be...don’t be...”
“Ridiculous?”
“Yes!”
“I could say the same to you.” He took a seat next to her and looked her directly in the eye. “This doesn’t have to be a permanent thing, just until you’re well again and can figure things out. Think of it like a vacation of some sort. I don’t know why you’re so persistent on staying here anyway.”
Strangely, she didn’t know why she was either. Her eyes fell from his face and landed onto the small box that remained next to her bed, acting as a coffin for her tattered dress and the rest of her tired existence. How could the past 21 years be accumulated and packed into such a tiny crate, how could that really be all she had to show for herself?
That’s my whole life she thought, not sadly, but realistically. That box certified what she had already known, that she was a nothing, a person wasting air, to provide as the background for everyone else who actually had a reason for walking the earth. The most she would ever amount to would be able to fit in one small box and then she would die. What did it really matter where the location was?
She tucked her hair behind her ears and sat back. “Ok.”
“Ok what?” he asked, not exactly understanding her meaning.
“I’ll go.”
He was surprised. “Really?”
“Unless you didn’t mean it.”
“No!” he immediately protested. “I did. I’m just amazed at what a pushover you are.”
She smiled. “I better get changed.”
“Let me help you,” he said, already putting her arm over his neck to get her up. “Don’t worry, I saw everything last night when you were passed out and I was taking advantage of you.”
She shot him a quizzical look.
“What?” he asked. “I was kidding.”
~~
A few hours later Hazel sat in a small jet plane, the destination being Florida. She had to ask Lance exactly where Florida was located and was amazed to find that it wasn’t a land locked state, that it was indeed that odd shaped mass of dirt hanging on the bottom of the rest of the nation. It brought to mind retirement condominiums and golf carts, not the wild nights and packed streets that she had grown accustomed to in New Orleans. Sunny, boring Florida. She wasn’t thrilled when the aircraft took off and the details of the ground grew smaller and smaller until she was seemingly suspended in a blanket of blue and white.
It occurred to her that Sita and Karen had no idea where she was and she longed to call one of them, especially Sita, but had no idea how to do so. Lance had enough on his mind; he didn’t need any more of her frivolous requests to deal with. He was probably the main and only reason she had agreed to go with him in the first place. She would have been perfectly happy rotting and decaying in the tomb which was that hotel room, but he believed in her the same way Sita believed in her. But somehow, with him, it was different. She didn’t know exactly how, it just was.
Another thing was, he made her feel safe, and nothing had ever made her feel that way.
She kept her eyes outside of the window and didn’t speak a word the entire flight until Lance tapped her shoulder.
“We’re almost here,” he said with a smile.
“Oh,” was her reply as she returned her gaze back to the oval shaped window.
It was mid afternoon when they arrived, the air hot and sticky. They were forced to stay in the boarding area for a good hour since security checks and airport arrangements had to be made in order to remove Lance from the vicinity, as the police officers so tactfully put it. They were kind enough to provide her with a wheel chair since she had yet to be able to stand on her own, her injuries catching the eye of almost everyone she passed. She still hadn’t taken the time to glance in a mirror and, truthfully, wanted to avoid her reflection for as long as possible. She didn’t want to see Jared’s going away present to her. A small crowd surrounded Lance at all times so she wheeled herself away from them to be by herself.
Two children playing in the boarding gate across the way from the one she was in caught her attention. There was one boy and one girl, both appearing to be between the ages of 6 or 7. She didn’t know exactly what they were doing, but it seemed to be some kind of game in which they were using invisible surroundings and items to help them along. Pretend bowls, pretend food, and other pretend people were involved in the game that they created along the way. Each time a new element was added one of the two children would announce and describe this fictional thing and the other would go along with it just as if they saw it as well. It was probably the greatest thing Hazel had ever witnessed in her entire life. No outside distractions disturbed them, not even her watching them bothered their fun time at all. They didn’t care about anything but the world that they were creating, nothing inhibited them from doing exactly what they wanted to.
She watched them for what felt like hours until someone finally approached her.
“Hey,” Lance said, coming up from behind here. “Everything’s all clear. We can go now.”
“Ok,” she muttered, keeping her eyes on the children.
Lance looked curiously from Hazel’s fascinated features to the kids. “Who are they?”
She blinked and looked down. “I don’t know.”
“Oh. I’ll push you, ok?”
She allowed him to do so and they left the airport.
~~
Reflections of palm trees and pastel buildings beamed on the tinted windows of the black van that Lance, Hazel, and three other security members, including the driver, rode in. Florida, totally different from the atmosphere he had grown up in, but the place he related to when he thought of the word “home”. It was strange, but he couldn’t seem to relate back to the lifestyle he once lived back in Mississippi. It seemed like decades ago that he was there, and even when he thought back to that, he didn’t feel like that had been him. Which was true. Another person that people knew as James had lived there, not Lance. Orlando was where he belonged now.
His gaze drifted beside him and out of the corner of his eye he saw the scarred girl next to him, quietly staring at the moving scenery as well. He was worried about her, finding her mute mood unusual, although he really didn’t know her all that much. The contemporary facial apathy bestowed her features and that nagging feeling of pity started to revive itself within him. He couldn’t help it, he felt sorry for her. She was so unfortunate and beaten, not just physically but in all aspects of her life. There was no youthful hope that was normally characterized in people her age, no future potential. It seemed as if she placidly wallowed through each day, allowing everything and everyone to pass her by without so much as raising her head to say good-bye. How could he not feel sorry for her?
However, accompanied by his pity, he had an even larger urge to assist her in any way he possibly could. And when he thought any way, he meant it. Even if it meant risking himself in some aspect, he would do it to just help her in even the smallest degree and he had no idea why he felt so strongly to do so. Could it have been because of her situation? Possibly, but something told him it was more than that. He wanted to be able to give her whatever she needed at any cost. He just hoped it would be enough.
For the moment though, he just wanted her to at least talk to him. “Hey.” He had to tap on her shoulder in order to get her attention. “We’re almost there.”
“Ok.”
“Aren’t you in the least bit curious as to know where we’re going?”
She shrugged. “Not really.”
“I’m going to take that as a yes. We’re going to an extremely typical business building where a bunch of associates, executives, and producers are meeting with us to discuss an upcoming charity event and new songs that we’re planning on recording for upcoming soundtracks and possibly our album. But don’t worry, the fun doesn’t stop there.”
“More fun than that?” she said.
“Oh yea. After that we get to go to my devastatingly...uh...humble abode where you get to watch me unpack.”
“What’s an abode?”
“Oh,” he paused, “It’s my house. Well, not really a house. More like a storage apartment.”
She looked at him blankly. “Right.”
“That’ll probably be the highlight. If you’re lucky I’ll even let you fold some of my socks.”
Finally she laughed. “You’re a really simple guy, you know that?”
He smiled and put his arm around her shoulder and lightly squeezed. “I’m glad someone finally took notice.”
~~
“I thought he was back already?” Joey asked from the far end of the long marble table that 15 people were scattered around.
“Security called and they said they picked him up and are on their way,” one of the executives from the record label said.
Chris playfully flicked an eraser in Justin’s direction. “Does anyone know why he stayed in New Orleans anyway?”
“Ow.” Justin picked up the eraser and threw it across the table, back at Chris, who ducked. “That girl from the club he ran off with.” It hit a thoughtful JC who gave them each disapproving looks.
“What about her?”
“Who?”
“The girl, Justin,” Chris said.
Remembering Lance’s urgent need for secrecy he sat up and said, “Oh nothing. I was just thinking about her, that’s all.”
Two over sized wooden doors acted as the main entrance to the conference room and one of them opened, causing the occupants inside to all look. A large bodyguard held the door open as a girl in a wheel chair was pushed in by Lance. Everyone turned a startling eye to the girl, Joey and Justin exchanging glances as each barely recognized her to be the camerawoman.
Her appearance was gruesome and unbearably cruel since the person underneath the gore seemed to be a fragile, small figure, her large hazel eyes the only undamaged thing about her at that moment. A forming bruise infested her left cheek like the shadow of a fading rain cloud. A long, thick gash above her right eyebrow seemed to just barely be healing, fresh blood still present, and the corner of her lower lip was swelling and bruised as well, along with dark red marks around her throat to top off her look. To think, that was just her face.
“Sorry I’m late,” Lance motioned to the girl, “This is my friend Hazel Fairchild.”
At first no one said anything, but finally JC stood and walked over to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you. My name is JC.”
“Hi,” she mumbled.
After that, everyone took their turns to stand and introduce themselves. She politely addressed them all without saying much in her nonchalant tone. Then Lance took her towards an empty chair at the very end of the table where he took a seat, keeping her next to him. Everyone readjusted to the new presence in the room and the meeting began.
During the session Lance was oddly comfortable with Hazel beside him. He knew she was there the entire time, and it wasn’t because he kept looking at her like everyone else was doing. He could just feel her there, but not to the point where it distracted him. He was still entirely focused on the matters being discussed, but at the same time recognized the person sitting next to him and how totally natural it felt to have her there. While she was a stranger to everyone else, he knew her, knew the story behind the bruises and also knew the girl. She seemed to know this as well. At least, he thought so.
She never actually touched him, or even said anything to him, but every time he said something she would suddenly perk up and listen, watching him with her eyes. She never looked at anyone else, just him, as if he was her protector in unfamiliar waters. It gave him a weird sense of satisfaction and pride.
A couple of hours later the meeting finally ended. The guys had decided to go out to lunch and Lance turned to Hazel and invited her along.
“You hungry?” he asked.
Considering she hadn’t eaten in almost 4 days she almost wanted to laugh at the question. “No, I’m ok.”
“Come on, I know you must be starving. You and I both didn’t eat the entire time we were in the hotel room. You must be famished.”
Picturing the extensively large hole in her nonexistent wallet, she shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Justin, who was watching Lance and Hazel from afar, decided it was time for him to take some action. “Ready to eat guys?” he said loudly, walking up to Hazel and taking hold of her chair to start pushing her towards the exit.
“Wait,” she said, looking at Lance for some help.
“You’re going to love this restaurant,” Justin said, ignoring her pleas. “It’s got the best cheeseburger I’ve ever eaten, and trust me, I’ve done wide and vast research on that subject.”
She was about to argue, but Chris intervened. “They’ve got killer french fries too. We eat there all the time.”
Hearing the descriptions, her stomach started to churn involuntarily and her mouth started to water. She couldn’t believe how hungry she was and they weren’t making it any better. An acidic feeling entered her abdomen and then her mouth, like something was trying to eat its way through her digestive system.
Out in the parking lot a white SUV awaited them, as well as the white glare of the sun and she had to squint in order to see. Someone was helping her up, guiding her along into the car until she was safely seated in the far end of the middle row. She blinked so her eyes would readjust and saw Lance sitting next to her, Chris and Justin in the back, while JC drove and Joey settled into the passenger seat.
“But,” she quietly said, “I’m not hungry.”
Lance looked her over and then gently took her hand in his. “It’s ok,” he whispered so only she could hear. “The record label is paying for it anyway.”
Startled, she transferred her eyes towards his trusting green, wondering how he was able to read her mind. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The corner of his mouth raised in a grin and he took his hand back. “You’re awfully stubborn,” the grin turned into a full smile, “But I’m worse.”
She started to argue with him, but then thought better of it. Her attempt at trying to act indignant around him was futile, somehow he saw past the outer shell she had covered around her to protect her from prying eyes and curious minds. When he guessed aspects of her personality that barely a handful of people really knew about she felt exposed, the shell invisible. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
To say she had trust issues wouldn’t do justification to how little she gave her trust out to other people, especially men. Her track record with the male species wasn’t a glowing one. They had treated her bad all of her life, that was all she knew men to be. At least, that is, until she encountered Lance. While most men she tried to run from, she sought him for help. She could actually talk to him and know he was listening and might actually understand where she was coming from, and that was totally foreign to her. For him to relate to her and know what she was thinking was unnerving and alien and she didn’t like it.
The car slowed and she saw a small 50’s style diner on the corner of the street, hidden slightly from the main street. They passed by the front entrance and swerved down an alley next to the diner, the vehicle finally coming to a halt near the back. Someone must have called ahead because a waiter was waiting for them already to lead them inside to a private table in the very back of the quaint restaurant. Lance helped her up from the chair and she took a seat on the long red booth as the boys took their seats afterwards, surrounding her on all sides.
Hesitantly she opened the menu that was placed in front of her to search through her list of options, making sure to check the prices of each item. The rest of them seemed to already know what they were ordering and conversation buzzed around her. To her left the Italian was busy telling a story about a party he had attended a few years back to an uninterested Justin or Joey (she couldn’t remember which was his name) and a strangely attentive JC. On her right the other dark haired man was discussing something with Lance, something about a clothing line, and he was seeking the younger man’s advice. This caught her attention.
“You can’t just sell everywhere,” Lance was saying in a serious tone.
“But won’t that make the line more accessible to consumers?”
“In theory, but it’s proven that brands advertised in specific stores sell more since there’s one main source and price for that matter. Also, it makes the clothes seem more exclusive and interesting and other stores will compete in selling your specific brand once you become successful.”
He continued, but Hazel stopped listening to the words and just watched him closely to examine his features and hand gestures. He was so professional in his manner and choice of words and it was clear that Chris was absorbing everything he had to say with his full attention. The pale green of his eyes seemed to brighten and sparkle in the lighting of the white walled room, his eyebrows slightly brought together due to the concentration he was using for his speech. He chose his words carefully but spoke fluidly and intelligently, pausing at the right times and controlling his tones to emphasize the point he was trying to make.
That’s when she recognized just why she was so enamored by the way he was talking. His voice was low and hypnotizing, sending her into a small trance, like candy to her ears.
“I don’t think he’s on the menu,” a voice whispered in her ear.
She turned and saw the boy sitting next to her smile. “What do you mean?”
“Oh nothing.” He sat back, keeping the smile on his face. “What do you think of Florida?”
Shrugging, she returned her eyes back to the menu. “It’s different I guess.”
“You don’t seem to be very happy to be here.”
“I’m fine with it.”
“Stop pestering the girl Justin,” JC said. He nodded in Lance’s direction. “So how was the flight?”
“The single most amazing flight I’ve ever experienced,” Lance replied sarcastically. “What did you juveniles do while I was away? Anything I should know about incase the cops come knocking on my door?”
“Well,” Chris said, “Do you want us to start before or after we slaughtered that family of 5?”
“Hit the party circuit, as usual,” Joey yawned, “Although, compared to New Orleans, it was less than thrilling.”
“Which club did you go to?” Hazel suddenly asked.
“Uh, Light Blue and Club Mango,” Joey answered.
“Have you ever been to Shock Syndrome?”
The rest shook their heads, but Joey nodded. “I’ve heard of it, but never been. It’s supposed to be insane.”
She grinned, “So I’ve heard.”
“Wait,” Lance said. “This club is in Florida?”
She nodded.
“How do you know about it?”
“I’ve got a couple of friends who used to live down here, plus I’ve met some people that told me it was a must if I was to ever visit.”
“And why have we not been there?” Justin asked. “I think we should go tonight and I insist Hazel come with us. Ouch!” He reached down to rub his leg. “Lance, why’d you kick me?”
“Um...” He glanced at Hazel and then back at Justin. “Don’t you think she would want to get settled in first?”
Hazel understood what he was implying, her condition not exactly prime for clubbing. “I’m tired anyway,” she agreed. “Maybe some other night.”
“You could have just said that, you know?” Justin mumbled. “Why must there be violence involved?”
Chris shook his head. “Man you’re clueless sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” Joey snorted. “Try every hour, on the hour.”
“MTV news, where you hear it first,” Justin mimicked.
“All right Serena,” JC said. “Calm down there.”
Lance leaned closer to her. “Let me take this time to apologize for the wonderful display of maturity witnessed here today. I promise that it will not get better, that they will continue to surprise and amaze you with the levels of idiocy they can so cleverly reach.”
She laughed and said, “Apology accepted. Thanks for giving me something to look forward too.”
“Not a problem.” They smiled at each other, her big eyes staring back at his for an instant and then turning back to the menu before her. She really did have a great smile he noted, a mental image of how she looked without the bruises flashing in his mind and a sudden burst of hatred coming forth as he thought about what Jared must have done to her. He never thought he would be able to truly hate someone, but he hated now. He hated Jared for all the marks on her in the present, and the ones he hadn’t seen from the past. He hated anyone in the past that had laid a harsh hand on her.
“So who was it that told you about Shock Syndrome?” Joey asked her. “Maybe we know them.”
“Actually, you might...”
Before she could go on, the waitress came then to take their orders. Hazel shyly gave hers, ashamed for not having the funds to pay for the meal herself, and then returned the menu back to the waitress. After the woman left, Justin asked her another question and the subject from before was forgotten.
~~
After lunch she and Lance parted ways with the others and hopped into a taxi that would take them to Lance’s apartment. He told her that the guys seemed really fond of her and didn’t normally take to people as easily as they had taken to her, at least now a days. She didn’t really know what the last part meant, but she brushed it off, believing that the cuts and blood more than likely had something to do with their so called fondness. Why would they like her? They were all energetic and talkative while she barely said a whole sentence the entire time.
The taxi dropped them off at a cozy white building, approximately 8 stories tall, a white gate surrounding the complex. It was in a quiet part of town, oddly enough right next to a freeway, and she wondered why he had chosen the place.
He shrugged at her question as he opened the gate with a key. “I’m not here that often so I didn’t really want to waste the money on some great spot I would never be in. What can I say, I’m cheap. I’ve got a house in Mississippi where I normally stay. This place doesn’t hold a candle to my house.” He pushed her chair into the elevators and pressed on the 7 button that light up under his finger. “I’ve got to bring you there sometime. I think you’d love it.”
“I’d like that,” she said honestly.
He didn’t know why, but that comment brought upon those strange butterflies he seemed to be feeling often lately. He cleared his throat as if to cough them out. The elevator stopped and he pushed her down the hallway, towards apartment 716. Putting another key in the door, he unlocked it and pushed it open, taking her inside. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
His humble abode wasn’t as humble as she had pictured. The entry room was the living room, it’s floors lined with recently vacuumed blue carpets. A large white couch was the main attraction of the room; it’s monstrously huge pillows resting on the sides, a glass table with a bowl of silver marbles acting as the centerpiece sitting in front of it. There was a modern fireplace in the room as well and two temple like statues (American Music Awards if she read correctly) sat on it’s wooden mantle along with a set of pictures containing people she was sure she wouldn’t recognize and so passed them over. Landscape portraits decorated the walls and a wooden mini-bar was built off to the side, tall and clearly expensive glasses set up on the counter. A low chime sounded in the house and she noticed the final piece of furniture in the room, a classic oak grandfather clock.
“Wow,” she breathed. “This is humble? I’d like to see normal.”
“What do you mean? This is nothing.”
She snorted. “You have not seen nothing, believe me. At least you’ve got furniture.”
He forced a laugh, although the comment disturbed him. “I’ll show you the rest of the place.”
The following rooms were just as luxurious as the first, a big screen tv and huge stereo system in his recreational room and a bathtub/spa in a lovely tiled bathroom. His bedroom came with a walk in closet full of clothing, another bathroom, a huge four pillar bed, and tv and stereo, each hooked up to the surround sound system on the ceiling.
“This is all very...just, amazing. It really is.”
“You should see the others places. They all have more steady, long term places just packed with useless stuff. Although, the surround sound does come in handy when there’s traffic.”
Her eyes couldn’t stop looking over the incredible bedroom, but then she noticed something. “There’s only one bedroom?”
“Uh huh.”
“Ok. Did you want me to sleep in the living room couch then?”
“No way,” he said. “You can stay here and I’ll just crash in the rec room.”
“Oh no,” she shook her head, “I’m not going to kick you out of your own bedroom.”
“Hazel, it’s not-"
“No,” she exclaimed. “This is why I didn’t want to do this. You stay here, this is your home.”
“And you’re my guest and I don’t mind the couch. Look, you’ve been through a lot and I want you to sleep on the bed, it’s more comfortable than the couch and a lot easier on you’re back.”
“Lance, the couch looked just fine. Trust me, it’s a lot more comfortable than probably anything I’ve ever slept on in my entire life.”
“Why is it that you get so verbal whenever you’ve got to argue about something?” he asked with an amused expression.
“Lance!”
“Ok, all right.” He laughed. “You can take the couch, if it means that much to you.”
“It does.”
“Ok. Jeez, I never though I’d see the day when I was actually fighting over sleeping on a couch.” He brought her over to the bed and helped her to sit on it, placing the wheel chair aside. “Wait here.”
“For what?”
He grinned. “My suitcase.”
“What’s in your suitcase?”
“My socks.”
She couldn’t help but laugh.
~~
As the sun sunk deep into the now orange sky and dusk settled, four men drove around aimlessly, trying to figure out what to do with all the free time they had at their disposal.
“This sucks,” Chris sighed. “There’s nothing to do.”
“No kidding,” Joey agreed. “I’ve actually sunk so low as to debate on whether to take a nap or read a book.”
JC, who was driving, glanced at Joey through the rear view mirror. “You actually have to reach the most extreme levels of boredom in order for you to slightly consider picking up a book?”
“Let’s just say that reading is not one of my favorite past times,” Joey said.
“Along with writing or even thinking for that matter.” Chris patted his friend on the back. “Isn’t that right Joe?”
“Right.”
“I wonder what Lance and Hazel are doing,” Justin blurted out.
“Not this again,” Chris mumbled tiredly. “Why are you so fascinated with them?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hmm, let’s review shall we? First you practically have to beg Lance to approach her at the club, then you stand over him like a prison guard for over an hour to force him to call her. Now you won’t shut up about them.”
“Good to know you’ve been keeping notes,” Justin said. “I thought you guys liked Hazel.”
They all unanimously agreed.
“She seems nice,” Joey said. “Poor girl. My heart went out to her the moment I saw her in that wheel chair. I wonder what happened.”
“Lance seems to be really attached to her,” JC commented.
“Exactly,” Justin stated. “I think that Lance and Hazel would make a great couple.”
“You’re out of your mind,” Chris said with a laugh. “There’s no way that would ever happen. No way at all.”
Joey chuckled as well. “Seriously Justin, that’s a little far-fetched, don’t you think?”
“Why?” Justin turned in the passenger seat to look back. “They’re great for each other. I’ve thought so from the beginning.”
“They’re total and complete opposites!” Chris exclaimed. “There are no two people on this earth that I could picture anymore mismatched than those two.”
“Lance goes for the energetic, open personality type girls,” Joey explained. “Hazel’s quiet and withdrawn. She’s guarded and...I don’t know, blank. I got the impression she was bored out of her mind the entire time. She isn’t his type at all.”
“It doesn’t mean his type can’t change. Obviously you guys aren’t seeing what I’m seeing.”
“We can’t see hallucinations” Chris retorted.
“Whatever,” Justin faced forward, “I think that they’ve got a chance, a strong one, at hooking up. In fact, I believe that it’ll be more than just a hook up. I think she’s exactly what Lance is looking for, but he just doesn’t know it.”
“It’ll never happen,” Chris said.
“I’m telling you, it will.”
“You wanna bet?”
Justin paused and then looked back again. “Ok. How much?”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” JC muttered. “Are you guys seriously considering betting on Lance’s love life?”
Chris ignored the driver. “How much lunch money are you willing to lose slick?”
“How about three hundred.”
Joey whistled. “Pretty high stakes there guys.”
“Wait,” Chris said. “As in dollars?”
“No, pennies. Of course dollars Chris. You think you can handle it?”
Chris was never one to back down to challenges, especially when coming from Justin. “You’re on.”