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After: You Love Me


Ashley

When I was fourteen and in the ninth grade, my foster mother was a strict Christian woman who didn't believe in school dances. She said they were Satan's tool to aid boys to seducing unsuspecting young women who didn't know better.

You can, by the way, imagine the look of horror that crossed her face when I told her that my best friend was Nick Carter of the Backstreet Boys. She'd done everything but sprout flames from her eyes.

It was the first year that Nick wasn't in my grade at school - he had officially switched to being tutored while touring with the Backstreet Boys in the Fall of that year, and was hardly ever home anymore. As a result, my eyes had been open to Tommy - a sophmore boy who played rugby and had, for God only knows what reason, asked me to go to the dance with him.

You see my dilemma, right?

So I'd spent the week between Tommy's request and the day of the dance to come up with a perfect lie to tell my foster mother and on Friday night, when I left carrying my dress in my backpack, she thought I was going to a Bible study at another girl's house, and I headed off to the dance, meeting Tommy down the block because Tommy was sixteen and driving his daddy's car.

Well it turns out my foster mother called the other girl's house to check on what time I would be coming home and found out I wasn't there. She instantly knew where I was and marched into the school in the middle of Bryan Adams crooning out Straight From the Heart, came right up to me and Tommy, and wrenched my ear almost off my head, shrieking about how she wasn't putting up with a "heathen" like me anymore.

Anyways, all that to tell you that as I dragged Nick and Chris out of the main banquent hall I was reminded of that moment when my foster mother dragged me out of the school gymnasium. Except this time I was my foster mother. I pulled them into a side room off the hallway and closed the door. "What the hell happened last night?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest, standing in front of the door as though to keep them from dashing out of it. "Why were you beating each other up?"

Nick looked at his sneakers.

Chris shook his head, "We weren't beating each other up," he said.

"AJ says you were."

Nick rolled his eyes, "God damn AJ and his big mouth."

"Now I want to know what you two were fighting about," I said.

Chris and Nick exchanged a look. Finally, Nick said, "He started it."

"I started it?!" Chris' voice squeaked halfway through the question. "I was provoked," he said.

"Provoked my ass!" Nick shouted, his face breaking out into an outraged expression, "You wanna see provoked, I'll provoke you, you big ---"

"Hey!" I snapped. Both their heads turned toward me. I looked at Chris. "How were you provoked?" I demanded.

Nick's cheeks turned so red his scar almost didn't stand out anymore.

Chris looked down at his sneakers.

"Okay guys seriously. WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED??" My voice was forceful. I felt like a mother sorting out a fight between two seven year olds.

Chris sighed, "He's - he's trying to sabotage the wedding."

"You're a paranoid crapweasel," Nick yelled.

"Paranoid!" Chris shouted back, and just like that I'd lost their attentions again. "How is it paranoid?!" He sounded hysterical. "I'm not blind! I can see what you're up to! You bastard!"

"What the hell reason do I have to sabotage your wedding?" Nick demanded at the top of his voice.

"You didn't give a crap about her until I told you that I loved her!" Chris yelled, pointing at me, "You didn't give a shit! You treated her like shit!"

They were standing about a foot apart now, practically spitting in eachother's faces with fury. I ran forward and squeezed between them. "Guys!" I yelled, but they yelled right over me.

"What are you, blind? You're the only dumbfuck stupid enough not to see that I have always loved her, always! EVERYONE - everyone! - could see it except for me, and apparently also you!" Nick yelled.

"You don't love her!" Chris bellowed, "And even if you do she's over you -- she's mine now, you waited too damn long to open your eyes!"

I shoved the two of them apart, my hands planted firmly on their chests, and held them at arm's length. And only just in time, too, because Nick surged forward, his nostrils flared like an angry bull. "STOP IT!" I screamed, "STOP!"

They stood at the end of my arms, each panting. I knew if I wasn't in between them they'd be whaling on each other like no tomorrow. I drew a deep breath. "Okay. Stop. Just breath. I --" I paused, the words they'd been yelling sinking into my mind. I looked up at Nick. "Wait. You - love me?"




Nick

"Wait. You - love me?"

The room seemed to freeze. Chris and I both stopped struggling to get at eachother, and Ashley stood there staring at me, her blue eyes wide with the question she'd asked. I swear time slowed down.

I couldn't believe after all this time, after everything, that this was how Ashley was gonna find out. This. Standing here between me and Chris in the backroom at the dinner party the night before I walked her down the aisle to holy matrimony with my ex-friend. All the times that I'd imagined telling her since I'd woken up in that airplane back in January and not once had ever looked like this. Of course most of the scenarios in my head had involved I Will Always Love You blaring in the background and slow motion running across fields of wildflowers like the scenes in movies and cartoons, but even taking that sort of unrealistic nature out of them, I'd never imagined it like this.

But here it was. The moment of truth. The moment that could change everything.

I looked up at Ashley, our eyes locked, and I said, "Yes."

Just one simple little word.

Ashley's hands dropped from our chests and Chris looked defeated on the other side of her, like a little boy whose face had just been unexpectedly slapped by someone he'd trusted. And I guess in a way it had been.

"Ashley," Chris said her name, almost pleadingly.

Ashley shook her head. "No... no, no talking," she said. She pointed at me, and then turned and pointed at him, "No talking." She backed away toward the door, her eyes still wide, biting her lips. One hand was up in her hair, holding onto the right side of her head, and her other hand was over her mouth.

"Ashley," I tried, taking a step toward her to comfort her.

"Back off," Chris said in a warning tone.

"Don't you start, either of you," Ashley snapped harshly enough that we both froze again. "Just..." she lowered her hands, and turned and walked out the door.

Chris looked at me, "Fuck you," he said, and he ran out the door after her.

I stood there in the room, alone, and I dropped into a chair, closing my eyes. "Oh Jesus," I muttered.

Definitely not even a little bit like I'd imagined it.