genynostalgia

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction - The 2016 Chapters: Chapter 17

In eighth grade I wrote twelve and a half chapters of an ‘NSync fanfiction novel, which I unearthed from my parents’ basement in mid-2015. Since I’ve wanted to write a novel for as long as I can remember, and this one was already half-done, I decided to finish it. Enjoy. (Also, can we talk about Justin’s double-pants in this picture?)

“Oh mahhhhhh goodness,” Justin drawled. “That is one smokin’ ensemble, Miss Topol.”

I gave my hips a little shake. “This old thing?”

“Man, I’m feelin’ underdressed!” he said, acknowledging his oversized FUBU jersey. We had yet again unintentionally dressed in a couple’s costume.

“You look fine as hell,” I said, grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards me. I pushed my groin against his and gave him a fat french kiss, nudging ourselves out of the doorway and into the living room of his suite.

“What’s gotten into you, girl?” he mumbled through a mouthful of tongue. His hands migrated to my torso, which stopped him. “And what’s this? Have you always had that?”

I looked down at my navel. “Just a little belly button bling. You like it?”

“Hell yeah!” he said, gently thumbing the ring.

“Ah!” I grabbed his wrist. “Don’t touch, it’s a little sensitive right now.” I immediately regretted the cheap facade and diverted his attention with an ear lick.

“Hey, hey, hey . . . baby, hey,” he laughed, prying himself away. “We’ve got all night for that.”

“Sure! Of course. Yeah. Duh. Just, ya know. Saying hello.” I pinched his butt, a period at the end of my awkwardness.

“Whoo! Feisty!” he yowled, almost politely. “I like you, girl.” He clapped his hands together once and headed for the kitchenette. “Alright - I’ve got red, I’ve got white, I’ve got sparkling. What floats your boat, babygirl?”

“Oh! Um . . . whatever you’re having, I guess.” Up until this moment my experience with alcohol was limited to whatever I accidentally sucked off of an orange slice that garnished my great-grandmother’s gin fizz the previous Easter, and that time I drank a Capri Sun that had turned.

“Sparkling it is,” he said, and popped the bottle. “Op-a!”

“Yeah!” I cheered, because I had seen adults cheer when popping corks.

He filled two plastic champagne flutes to the brim and passed me one. “To Chris Kirkpatrick,” he announced, raising his glass.

I smiled politely. “Okay?”

“For buying us the booze.” He winked and clinked my glass.

“Oh, yeah, hey, yay grown-up Chris!” I pressed my lips daintily to the brim and sipped. It tasted like the pee of a hamster that drank a lot of apple juice, but in a good way?

Justin took my hand. “Dirty Dancing time?”

I sank into the couch and posed like a baby Sharon Stone, taking a couple of large gulps of Prosecco. There was a pleasant warmth in my stomach. Is this what drunk is? This isn’t so bad, I thought, and finished off the glass.

“They only had it on VHS, if that’s okay,” Justin said, popping the tape into the VCR.

“Sure,” I burped.

“Wh-hoa!” His eyes found my empty glass. “Thirsty lady! Want a refill?”

“I’ve got it!” I said, rising and adjusting my skirt. I noticed it just barely covered my glutes, which were bare thanks to my new thong.

I went to the kitchenette and poured myself another drink, unaware of the physics of sparkling wine - a geyser of Prosecco erupted over the rim of the glass, forming a foamy waterfall that tumbled from the counter to the floor. “Shizz,” I whispered, and grabbed a towel. As I bent down to wipe up the mess, it occurred to me that I had an opportunity in this moment, and I turned away from the living room, bent over at the hips.

“Ahem,” I coughed. Looking back at Justin, I sensually pushed the towel in a figure eight on the floor, giving him full view of my ass.

“Need help?” he said, engrossed in the TV remote.

I sighed and stood upright. “Nope, I’m good.” I topped off my drink, this time letting it trickle out of the bottle like a leaky faucet.

The title credits rolled and Justin pumped one fist in the air. “Figured it out!” he said triumphantly as he flipped off the lights. He settled into the couch, patting the seat next to him. “C’mere, babygirl.”

I slinked onto the sofa, nuzzling into the crook of his arm. “Wanna play the state game?” I said suggestively, putting my hand on his knee.

“What’s that?”

“Pick a state, any state.”

“Um. Florida.”

“Nope.” I moved my hand an inch up his thigh.

His eyes narrowed in curiosity. “Alaska.”

“Nope.” Another inch.

“California.”

“Nope.”

“Montana.”

“Nope.”

“Nevada.”

“Mm-mm.”

“Alaksa?” “You already said that.”

My palm now rested on his groin, which felt warm through his shorts and - dare I say - dewy. He shifted nervously, took my hand, and kissed it. “I thought you wanted me to see this movie.”

“I do,” I said dejectedly, sitting back. “I do, I’m sorry.”

He smiled. “Don’t be sorry. Just watch with me.”

I forced a toothless grin and took a large sip of wine.

By the end of “Hungry Eyes,” I’d had four glasses.

“If this is 1963, why are they using 80’s music? And why does everyone clearly have 80’s hairdos? It’s like they’re not even trying,” Justin mused.

“I dunno,” I slurred, and slowly turned my head from left to right, watching the room trail behind my gaze. Zzzthis what drunk is? “I gotta pee. BRB.” I stood up and wobbled to the bathroom.

As I sat hunched over on the toilet, I was slammed with a wave of paranoia. Why didn’t Justin want me? Everything was so perfect last night - the daisies, the wish on the star, the Chantel Kreviazuk - did I ruin it somehow? That morning he had nibbled my ear and said we deserved “alone time,” for chrissake. Alone time means sex time, I told myself, and wiped. After convincing myself to let it happen, the idea of it not happening somehow terrified me.

I flushed and stood up to study myself in the mirror. I thought I looked pretty damn sexy - like Robin Tunney in The Craft, but with the whimsey of a Spice Girl. Maybe it’s the butterfly clips, I thought, dragging them from my scalp. They’re too little-girlish. I tossed them in the trash and flipped my mane to one side to finger-comb my hair. My belly button ring caught my eye and I showed it off to myself by cranking out a few body rolls. “Does a virgin move like this?” I whispered, thrusting my hips into a circle. I ran my hands down the back of my head, around and over my boobs, and grabbed the hem of my FUBU tee. With a flick of my wrists I flashed the mirror and congratulated myself on the mesh bikini top choice, giggling at my newfound boldness. Sorry, Jess, I can’t go to Chili’s with you tonight because I HAVE SEX NOW.

My ear caught what was happening in the movie. “Dance with me.” “What, here?” Seizing the opportunity to reemerge during the sex scene, I picked at my thong, mistaking it for a wedgie, and opened the bathroom door.

“There you are!” Justin said. “I was about to come check on you. Sorry I didn’t pause the movie - it was just getting really good.”

I sauntered over to the couch and stood between him and the TV. “I know something else that’s about to get really good.”

He put his thumb to his bottom lip and smiled, looser now thanks to the bubbly. “Is that so?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I said, looking back at the movie - Johnny was taking off Baby’s top. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it behind me.

“Tiff. Wow . . . that is . . .”

“Shhh,” I said, and put a finger to his lips. “No talking.”

I leaned over and kissed his neck, just as Baby kissed Johnny’s on the screen behind me. After a quick nibble to his ear, I took his hands and led him through the kitchenette to the bed.

“Should we pause-“

“I said NO. TALKING.” I pushed him onto the bed, jumped up, and straddled him. He tried to say something but I plugged his mouth with my tongue, scrambling to remove his jersey. Once off, I violently clawed at his back, dry humping him through his jeans like a chihuahua.

“Tiff, baby.” I reached for his belt buckle, and he stopped me. “Tiff.”

But I was on fire. I put my hands on his pecs and shoved, pinning him to the bed as I pulled myself to a squat that locked his pelvis between my feet. After taking a primatial moment to grind my tailbone in the airspace just above his crotch, I stood up too fast and lost my balance - but, like a genius, covered it up by whipping my hair around a few times like a stripper. Finally I unzipped my skirt and let it fall around my knees, unveiling my thong and its clear instructions.

“EFF ME, Justin Timberlake,” I cried. “Eff me like you’ve never EFFED anyone before!” I tried to step out of the skirt, but my right foot hooked itself on the waistband and I teetered on one leg. Before I could finesse my imbalance with another brilliant club move, I tumbled off the side of the bed, whacking my forehead on the nightstand. I was out cold.

***

“You’re okay. You’re okay, baby, you’re okay.” Justin’s voice lulled me into consciousness as he pressed a cold towel to my head, which now throbbed and sunk into the pillow like a bag of  kitty litter.

“Oh my god,” I croaked. My hand searched my head for the pain, and Justin gently pulled it away.

“Don’t touch it, just relax,” he cooed. “You’re going to have a honkin’ goose egg.”

His face came into focus as my eyes fluttered open. That face. It was like that of a sexy Precious Moments figurine - smooth, white, gentle, with only a nascent gold fuzz on his chin. His lips were pink and perfectly lubricated, and his crown gold of ringlets glimmered above two hoop earrings to form a halo around his immaculate countenance. Overcome, my breath left me in that moment, and tears spilled back into my ears.

“Does that hurt?” he said, pulling the towel away.

“No, no,” I said. “I mean, yes, but that’s not it.”

“Ah,” he said, drying my ears with part of the bed sheet. “Well. If you don’t mind me guessing, I think I have an idea as to why you’re crying.”

“You do?” Oh god. He knows. He knows I kiss his October centerfold from Bop Magazine twice upon waking and three times before bed.

“Mmhmm,” he said knowingly. “I think maybe, just maybe . . . you haven’t really been yourself tonight.”

Oh. “Maybe,” I said with a soft sob.

“And maybe just a few minutes ago . . . you were pushing yourself to do something you might not be totally ready to do.”

“Probably.”

Justin lay himself next to me, propping himself up on his elbow. “Look,” he said. “I know they call me ‘Mr. Smooth’ and ‘Stud,’ and JC has said some asshole things about my past. But the truth is, I haven’t had that many girlfriends. I mean, I cleaned up in middle school. Not gonna lie. After that, though - I’ve been on the road, I’ve been in the studio, and I haven’t had time to date, really. Girls just flock to this - “ he motioned to his hair “- and the guys think it’s hilarious.” He brushed my cheek with his hand. “So. What I’m trying to say is - whatever you think I might want, just forget about it. Because, more likely than not, I’m in the same position you are.”

“You mean you’re a . . .”

“Yeah. I am.”

My face split into a Christmas-morning smile, and a surge of relief lifted me with such force that I head-butted Justin squarely with my engorged forehead. I cringed and sunk back into the pillow.

Justin chuckled with pity. “Why don’t we just lie here and relax? I’d kind of like to know a little more about Miss Tiffany Topol. If that’s alright with her.”

“I think that’s alright with her, yes.”

“Good.” He smiled and pulled the blanket over us, tucking me in a little bit. “So, tell me Miss Topol - what’s your favorite band?”

***

I woke up as the little spoon. I turned over to see Justin’s curls backlit by the sunlight seeping in through the blinds, and couldn’t help but twirl a ringlet with my finger. He let out a sigh through his nose and slowly opened his eyes.

“Morning,” I whispered, careful not to breathe in his face. It felt as if the hamster piss champagne had crystallized on my tongue.

“Mmmm,” he moaned softly. “I don’t remember falling asleep.”

“Me neither,” I giggled. “The last thing I remember was you telling me about the time you tried to iron your hair.”

“I don’t even remember telling you that,” he laughed, and stretched his arms above his head. I draped myself across his chest and gave him a squeeze, breathing in the lingering scent of that pheromonal Woods cologne.

“Let’s just lie here for the rest of the day,” I sighed.

He ran his fingertips up and down my arm. “Fine by me,” he said. “Watch PopUp Video, order some pizza-“

Raprapraprap. There was a soft, urgent knock on the door.

“Ah, shit, I forgot to put out the Do Not Disturb sign.” He threw the covers off, and I looked down to see I was still in nothing but my baby tee and The Thong. I gasped and pulled the sheet up to my neck.

“Oh, hah! That’s right.” Justin bit his lip and smiled, reaching into his suitcase and pulling out a pair of basketball shorts. “Throw these on.”

“Thanks,” I said sheepishly, pulling them on under the covers.

There was another rap at the door. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” Justin jogged into the living room and opened the door, letting the chain catch it. A nose and mouth poked through the crack and whispered.

“Dude. Yoko.”

Justin looked back at me with wide eyes and then swiftly shoved the face back into the hallway, removing the chain lock. He opened the door and Chris burst in, slamming the door behind him.

“You playin’?” Justin said, nervously scratching the back of his head.

Chris leaned against the door, breathing heavily. “Just saw her. Down at the continental breakfast. Eating a bagel.”

“Did she see you?”

“Yes.”

“Did she talk to you?”

“Yes.”

“Does she know I’m here?”

“ . . . yes.”

“What the FUCK, man!” Justin punched Chris in the arm.

“She asked! I wasn’t going to lie to her!”

“Well why the fuck not!?”

“I’m sorry - who’s Yoko?” I butted in.

“Shhhh.” Chris put his finger to his lips and cocked his head. A female voice wafted into the room.

“Hello? Where are y’all? I can hear y’all’s voices!”

Justin grabbed Chris by the shirt collar, balling his other hand into a fist. “Are you FUCKING kidding me!?”

The voice skipped through the hallway. “Hel-lo? Chris? You said room six-oh-somethin’ but I forgot.”

“You told her my ROOM NUMBER?!” Justin whispered ferociously, dropping Chris’s collar to pace frantically with his hands on his head.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out!” Chris whispered back.

Raprapraprap.

“Chris? Justin?” cooed the voice, now at the door.

Everyone froze.

“I can hear you in there, open up!”

Chris and Justin erupted into conversation of silent, angry movements, as if they were conducting an orchestra of bees. Soon their discussion moved to the floor, with Justin hugging Chris into a headlock as Chris clawed at Justin’s forearms.

“This is ridiculous,” I said, throwing my hands in the air. I stepped over the boys and threw the door open.

Posed before me like a Hollister model was a taut, tanned, dark blonde creature in daisy duke board shorts and a well-filled pink bikini top. She looked at me for a moment through her aviators, then removed them to reveal a set of brown eyes narrowed in judgement. As my brain assembled the rest of her features into a face, I felt my body go numb.

It was Britney Fucking Spears.

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction - The 2016 Chapters: Chapter 16

In eighth grade I wrote twelve and a half chapters of an ‘NSync fanfiction novel, which I unearthed from my parents’ basement in mid-2015. Since I’ve wanted to write a novel for as long as I can remember, and this one was already half-done, I decided to finish it. Enjoy.

Pancakes ’n Weed left me exhausted, so I parted ways with Justin to take an afternoon nap before our movie date. Four hours later I opened my eyes to find Jessica sitting on the edge of her bed, plucking tiny blonde hairs from her nipples.

“Jess, what in god’s name are you doing?”

“GAH!” she yelped, and then cringed. “Ow! You made me pinch my areola.”

“My apologies,” I grumbled.

She examined her boobs with a compact mirror. “Wasn’t today an absolute blast? Aside from JC being a total dickweed, I mean. But shit - that was some dank koosh, I’m still feelin’ it!”

“ . . . what?”

“Oh, look!” Jess opened the top drawer of the nightstand and pulled out what looked to me like a green glass penis with one giant testicle. “Joe gave me this bowl. Isn’t it beautiful? We’re going to smoke it together tomorrow at 11:04 a.m. - our twenty-four-hour anniversary.” She put it back in the drawer behind the Bible.

“Cool,” I lied. I watched uncomfortably as she dropped her head and drenched her hair with mousse. “You, uh, better not let your mom find that thing.”

She flipped her head back and finger-scrunched her curls. “Psssssh” was her only retort, followed by a Pauly Shore-ian “whatever.”

I wanted to ask why she was acting like the “blue haired freaks” we’d catch doing whippets behind the senior center where we volunteered. But I thought it better to chalk the moment up to the last remains of the “dank koosh.”

“I gotta pee,” I announced, and shuffled towards the bathroom.

“Oh, um,” Jess muttered, jumping up. “Wait, just lemme-“

Hanging on the bathroom door was a red lace boustier, complete with garters. A matching thong hung on the doorknob.

My hand clapped over my mouth. “Oh my god, Jess, is this your mom’s?”

Jess pursed her lips around an impish smile as she sunk into a bevel.

“Is this . . . yours?” I picked up the thong with two fingers and held it like a dead mouse.

Jess’ smirk turned into a toothy grin as she chewed playfully on a fingertip. “I think . . . tonight’s . . . the night.”

The thong fell from my hand in slow-motion and landed on the floor with the crash of a fallen redwood.

“What? Jess . . . WHAT?”

“I know, I know-“

“Jess, you just met him. You said so yourself! YESTERDAY!” I paced to the opposite end of the room, inadvertently kneading my chest. “Like, right about now is the twenty-four hour anniversary of you saying that you weren’t going to sleep with Joey. If that puts things into perspective for you. I don’t know.”

She slipped on the thong under her skirt. “Tiff, these past couple of days have been the best of my entire life. Joe is . . . he’s it. The way you know about Justin? I know this now - about Joe.”

“Will you please stop calling him Joe.”

“That’s HIS NAME,” Jess snapped. “And besides - it’s just sex.”

My head was spinning. I put my hands on either side of my skull in an attempt to steadily intercept the completely foreign dogma being hurled at me. “Just sex? I’m sorry Jess, but I have no idea where you went. I’m looking at you, and you look like Jess, but I feel like I’m talking to a complete stranger. A pot-smoking, sex-having—”

“It’s called having fun,” she spat. “Being a teenager. We’re going to be seniors next year, Tiff. Don’t you realize that this shit is going to be all around us? Parties - with alcohol, and drugs, and - gasp - SEX? Oh no, not S-E-X! God forbid we end up somewhere where people might be fucking-”

“STOP SWEARING!” I screamed.

A puff of insincere laughter escaped her nose. “You know, if you weren’t such a prude, people would stop calling you a lesbian.”

I took a sharp breath in. My lower lip quivered, and I instinctively covered it with my hand. Jess had seen me cry hundreds, nay, thousands of times - but I refused to let her see me do it. Not now, not in this moment.

“Thanks for the advice,” I sniffed, and slipped my feet into my flip-flops.

Her hands dropped from her hips. “Tiff.”

I grabbed my purse and left the room.

“You had fun getting high, admit it!”

Fuck you, Jessica.

                                                          * * *

I stormed down the boulevard to a shop called Wet Trash, which was basically a Hot Topic with surfboards. Displayed on the sidewalk was a totem pole of thongs touting various phrases, ranging from flirtatious (“I Like Boys With Big Toys”) to direct (“SHUT UP AND LICK IT”). After settling on one that said “INSERT HERE” with an arrow pointing to the crotch, I marched inside, dramatically pulling a purple mesh bikini top from the rack. I buzzed around the store like a bomb-sniffing dog, tossing a cropped FUBU baby tee and a plaid schoolgirl skirt over my arm. A tube of roll-on glitter and a fake belly-button ring from the checkout counter topped off my arsenal, and I raced home to decorate myself. I belted “So Anxious” and pondered my nipple hair.

[genynostalgia]

Happy birthday Justin Timberlake; thank you for friendzoning me in every dream I've ever had about you.

[genynostalgia]

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction: The 2016 Chapters - Chapter 15

In eighth grade I wrote twelve and a half chapters of an ‘NSync fanfiction novel, which I unearthed from my parents’ basement in mid-2015. Since I’ve wanted to write a novel for as long as I can remember, and this one was already half-done, I decided to finish it. Enjoy.

I built and destroyed small volcanos over my feet in the sand as the others played frisbee. They seemed to move as a slideshow - a snapshot of Justin making a diving catch - click - a still of Joey whiffing it mid-air - click - a Polaroid of Jess jumping on Joey’s back. My ears rang.

After finishing what felt like my fortieth foot-volcano, I felt Justin next to me. “Hey babygirl,” he purred. “How you feelin’?”

I pulled my lips in over my teeth and shrugged.

“Do you wanna throw a few with us?”

No thanks, I’m dying, I thought, bulldozing a volcano with my hands.

“You just wanna sit here? Are you hungry?”

I nodded.

“Is that yes to both?”

I paused. Was it? Oh god. I couldn’t remember. Oh god. I had amnesia. Oh god.

He laughed coolly. “I think you need some food. C’mon.” He offered me his hand and I gingerly pulled my feet out of the sand, as I was pretty sure I could see each grain individually and the idea of disturbing their kingdom terrified me.

“Food time!?” Joey piggy-backed Jess and barreled towards us.

“Pancakes, please!” Jess sang.

We walked two and a half hours to the IHOP across the street where a hostess sat us in a corner booth. I held a menu up to shield mine and Justin’s faces.

“Is this so we can make out?” He flicked his eyebrows.

“We can’t let anybody see us here.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” His pillowy lips met mine. The blood that had pooled in my head flooded my limbs, and suddenly the high I was on went from Hiding in a Closet from a Serial Killer to Giddy Teenager Baked at IHOP.

“Justin, dude.” Joey leaned in on his elbows. “I dare you to order the Rooty Tooty Fresh ’n Fruity - without laughing.”

“Or Moons Over MyHammy,” Jess snorted.

I looked up from the menu. “I think that’s Denny’s, Jess.”

“She SPEAKS!” Joey shook my hand. “Welcome to IHOP, Miss Topol. Can I interest you in a Rooty Tooty Fresh ’n Fruity?”

“A Rooty Tooty Fresh ’n Fruity, you say?” I turned to Justin and attempted a straight face. “Justin, would you like to split a Rooty Tooty Fresh ’n Fruity with me?”

“Why, yes, I would love to split a Rooty Tooty Frrrrrrrr . . .” Justin’s shoulders shook.

Jessica grabbed a coffee carafe and maneuvered the flip-top spout like the mouth of a puppet. “You see, it’s like Moons Over Miami, but it’s Moons Over . . . MYHAMMY. Because HAM.”

We lost our collective minds laughing. “I like marijuana!” I screeched, which put Joey on the floor.

Just then a condescending voice sliced through the joy. “Do you now?” We looked up to find JC with a smug hand on edge of our booth.

“Joshua, my man!” Joey scooted over a few inches. “Please, do have a seat and join us for a - what was it we were going to order, Justin?”

Justin held up two middle fingers.

“Thank you,” JC said flatly. “But I’m just grabbing something to go. I’m working on an a cappella arrangement of ‘William, It Was Really Nothing’ to option for the next album.”

“Jace - we’re on vacation,” Justin said. “Relax, man!”

“Easy for you to say,” JC scoffed. “You wanna look at Lou with those red eyes?”

“Fuck Lou,” Justin shot back.

“Yes, let’s take a moment to thank Big Poppa Louis J. Pearlman for our generous thirty-four dollar per diem. May we dedicate our international pancake feast to him.” Joey raised an empty coffee cup and then turned it over with a flourish.

“Ah, yes. Well, in that case, I hope your girlfriend’s allowance will cover her half of the check.” JC nodded at Jessica. “Tell me again: what’s the age of consent in South Carolina?”

Joey’s face hardened. “Thank you, JC. That will be all.”

The hostess approached with a paper bag and a styrofoam cup. “Two eggs poached and a large black coffee with four Equals?”

JC snatched the bag and turned to Justin. “And you’d better keep this situation under wraps.” He motioned towards me. “For everyone’s sake.”

“Have fun jerking off to Morrissey!” Joey called as JC slinked away, middle finger trailing behind him.

Jessica’s eyes were dinner plates. “I’m legal, right? Oh god, am I legal? Is this legal?”

“It’s legal; I researched it before we booked the plane tickets.” Joey put his arm around her.

“I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into him,” Justin mused.

“Dude, you know what it is: he’s jealous. That’s what it always is. He wants to be the sole frontman. That’s why he’s always sucking Lou’s dick, writing stupid bizarre arrangements of Joy Division deep cuts and shit.” Joey peeled the top off of a creamer and drank it like a shot. “Plus, he hasn’t been laid in months.”

“Well, that’ll do it.” Justin turned to me, eyes clear and buzz killed. “I’m so, so sorry. Don’t let that asshole ruin our vacation, aight?”

“Aight,” I mumbled.

“FINALLY, my favorite person has arrived!” Joey rubbed his hands together as our waitress landed pertly at our table.

“Hey y’all! I’m Kaylee, and I will be y’all’s server this afternoon. Do y’all know what you want to eat?”

Joey flashed his dimples. “Actually, our ramen-haired friend here has volunteered to order for all of us.”

Kaylee turned to Justin and armed her pen. “Ahem,” he said, tugging at his gold chain. “I think we will have four orders of the . . . Rooty. Tooty.” He took a deep breath and braced himself. “FRESHNFRUITY,” he sneezed, collapsing with a heavy sigh as we all laughed and applauded.

My high lifted like a veil being pulled from my eyes, which made me suddenly aware of the rock in my abdomen. You’d better keep this situation under wraps. For everyone’s sake. What did JC mean by that? As I became closer and closer to Justin with every passing hour, he seemed to just as quickly become more and more mysterious. Was he or was he not a virgin? Why would he need to hide our love? And how the hell did he know I loved daisies and PopUp Video? I picked at my pancakes and debated whether or not I should demand the truth about his past.

“Hey.” Justin moved in closer and put his arm around me. “Still on for Dirty Dancing tonight? My place? Eight o’ clock?”

I smiled. “Definitely.”

“Good,” he whispered, and gently bit my ear. “I think we deserve some alone time.”

I nodded and chugged an entire glass of milk.

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction: The 2016 Chapters - Chapters 13 1/2 and 14.

In eighth grade I wrote twelve and a half chapters of an ‘NSync fanfiction novel, which I unearthed from my parents’ basement in mid-2015. Since I’ve wanted to write a novel for as long as I can remember, and this one was already half-done, I decided to finish it. Enjoy.

Justin slid his hand down my back until his fingertips rested just under the top of my bikini bottoms. Not far enough down to reach crack, but enough to give me a little clit boner. I shuddered.

“You alright, babygirl?”

“What? Hm? Oh! Sorry, I just thought I saw Andy Dick.”

“Aw, never baby. I’ll protect you.” He picked me up with his alabaster arms and threw me gracefully over his shoulder and ran down the beach. This gave me a great idea.

“Hey, Justin! Do you know how to do the Dirty Dancing lift?”

He put me down. “The wha?”

“The Dirty Dancing lift, dummy. The one at the end of the movie.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

My spine turned to ice. “Are you . . . are you telling me you’ve never seen Dirty Dancing?”

“Is that a Ricky Martin thing?”

“What? Ew. No.”

A deep baritone called from behind us. “Hey guys!” I turned to find Lance jogging towards us, shirtless and gleaming with sweat.

“Lance, thank god,” I said. “Justin has never seen Dirty Dancing.”

His perfectly tanned visage turned to snow. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Dude. I spent the first ten years of my life eating bar-b-cue, playing basketball, and listening to Michael Jackson. I’m sorry I don’t know how to do a dirty lift.”

“The lift isn’t dirty,” Lance snorted. He bent his knees and slapped his thighs twice before extending his arms toward me. “C’mon.”

“Lance knows it,” I said tauntingly, taking a few steps back.

“Well, Lance also knows the choreography to ‘Cold Hearted Snake,’” Justin scoffed. He crossed his arms and shifted his aviators from his head to his face.

“If you’re trying to embarrass me, it’s adorable,” Lance said, turning towards me. “Ready?”

“Uh-huh!” I did my best Dominique Moceanu run into Lance’s open arms, and before I knew it I was looking out over the white stretch of shore, arms back and toes pointed like I was in a gahddam Busby Berkley movie.

“Whoaaa,” I heard Justin say from below, clearly impressed.

“Cool, right!?” I yelled. Justin giggled.

In that moment I felt an unfamiliar breeze.

“Looks great!” I glanced down to see Justin take off his sunglasses and back up a few steps for a better look.

And then I realized.

My tits were out.

“OMIGOD PUT ME DOWN PUT ME DOWN!” I screamed. But it was too late. I attempted to cover my bare breasts mid-air, lost my balance, and fell straight behind Lance into the sand.

“Oh, shit!” Justin rushed to help me, still laughing. “Are you okay?”

“DON’T LOOK AT ME!” I mewed, frantically re-tying the strings of my bikini top.

“Do you need help?” Lance offered.

Hot tears sprung to my eyes. “Did you see anything? You didn’t see anything, did you?”

Lance took my hand and pulled me to my feet. “I didn’t see anything.”

“No, you.” I pointed to Justin. “Did you see anything?” I had spent countless nights listening to “I Drive Myself Crazy” and masturbating, dreaming of the moment Justin would first lay eyes on my young mounds - when I revealed them to him in front of a fireplace on a bearskin rug in a chalet in Vail. If he caught his first glimpse of them dangling over Lance’s head and all of the Atlantic, I’d be ruined.

Justin looked to Lance. “I . . . all I saw was a freakin’ awesome dirty lift.”

“The LIFT isn’t DIRTY!” Lance laughed, smacking Justin on the chest.

“Right, right, sorry. Ahem.”

“You saw, didn’t you.” Tears spilled down my face.

“Aw, Tiff!” Justin chuckled affectionately and pulled me towards him. I had lost it - I buried my face in his chest and sobbed.

I felt Lance stroke my hair. “Sweetie, this kid has seen so many boobies in his life, you’d think he was never weaned.”

“WHY do you guys keep saying stuff like that?” I wailed.

“LANCE,” Justin spat. “What the fuck, man?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I believe that one is straight from the horse’s mouth.” Lance winked.

Justin seethed. “Go wax your chest.”

“Don’t have to!” Lance tousled Justin’s curls. “Dude, I’m just joshin’ with ya. Calm yourself.” He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “He’s a V.”

“BYE, LANCE.” Justin waved.

Lance took my face in his hands. “You’re adorable. Stay young.” He kissed me on the cheek and jogged away.

I looked up at Justin. “‘Stay young?’ Isn’t he, like, three years older than me?”

He shook his head. “Lance is on this whole ‘I’m an old soul’ kick ever since he discovered the Criterion Collection.”

“Oh,” I said, wiping my face.

“Hey,” Justin cooed, gazing into my eyes. “You know . . . I think Dirty Dancing is part of the Criterion Collection.”

“Um . . . really? I don’t think . . .”

He grabbed my nose. “Gotcha.”

I let out a sigh-cum-chuckle. He was funny.

“But,” he said, “I’d really love to see it. With you. Do you wanna rent it tonight?”

I grinned. “I would love that.”

“Or, if you don’t wanna do that, I think there’s a PopUp Video marathon on VH1 - I know you love that show.”

“Wait,” I said, furrowing my brow. “I do love that show . . . how did you know that?”

Justin’s eyes widened for a moment, then melted into a smize. “Meant to be, remember?” He picked me up and cradled me in his arms. “I’m taking you on a walk!”

I threw my arms around his neck and for the first time noticed a gold crucifix catch the sunlight against his milky white chest. My heart swelled as I thought about what Lance had whispered to me. He’s got to be a virgin, I thought. These guys just give him a hard time about it.

Justin carried me down the beach for about a quarter-mile, quietly singing “So Anxious” by Ginuwine. That voice, I thought. He’s an angel. I squirmed a bit as I noticed my bikini bottoms were suddenly no longer completely dry, and hopped out of his arms. At that same moment, I heard an unmistakeable laugh drift out of a nearby cabana.

“Joey, that is funny, that is SO FUNNY. YOU ARE SO. FUNNY.”

Justin and I stopped, looked at each other, and smiled. We tiptoed over to the curtain and, after a silent count of three, burst inside.

I immediately began coughing. The cabana was engulfed in an odor I had only experienced once before at a Goo Goo Dolls concert earlier that year.

“Heyyyyyyyyyy guyyyyyyyyys,” Joey said, his words like air let slowly out of a balloon. Jess was on his lap, desperately trying to stifle her ever-explosive laughter. They both hid their hands, their pupils UFO’s in their reddened eyes. I thought about the “secret” that Katy (my other best friend) taught me on the bus last year and thought wow, they really like each other.

Justin applauded slowly. “Well, well, well, well, well!” he said. “Is the Fat-one smoking a fatty?”

“What?” I said. “What are you guys doing?”

“Just . . . having ourselves a straight Kool and the Gang celebration,” Jess said, collapsing into giggles onto the floor.

Joey revealed two joints from behind his back and flashed a shit-eating grin. “Jess and I are going steady. She is the Rose to my Jack.”

“We’re in L-U-V!” Jess cried, and stuck her tongue in Joey’s mouth.

My jaw was on the floor. “JESSICA LEIGH!” I gasped.

She snapped her head back at me and rolled her eyes. “Yes, MOM?”

I looked at my once-innocent friend, high out of her mind, an archipelago of hickeys dotting her chest. Who was this person? Weren’t we just giggling over Tiger Beat at the airport? What had happened between last night and now? I couldn’t tell if I was upset because she was suddenly growing up before my eyes, or because she was doing it without me.

Justin’s hand found itself once again right under the band of my suit bottoms, this time dangerously close to crack territory. His cologne cut through the smell of weed for a moment as he fixed his blue-gray eyes on mine.

“Wanna join the party?” He almost sang his words as he offered me the joint. I bit my lip and cringed, thinking of all of the D.A.R.E videos I watched in elementary school that clearly explained what to do in this situation.

Justin licked his lips and smiled. “Here, let’s shotgun it.” He took a large hit, pulled me close, and I opened my mouth.

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction Novel, Chapters 12 and 13

If you are just joining us, this is the half-finished ‘NSync fanfiction novel I wrote in eighth grade, which I have transcribed for your reading pleasure. Check the archives for Chapter 1-11, and then get back here quick before the boys get roped into doing a Chili’s commercial. 

TWELVE

“Oh Jess,” I said as I slid into our hotel room. I sighed dreamily. I then looked over to find Jessica and Joey kissing on the couch.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, “ I said, heading toward my room.

“No, no, Tiff, it’s okay,” Jess said. “We were, uh, pretty much finished anyway.” She giggled.

“Well?” Joey asked.

I smiled “Well what?”

“Oh come on, Tiff!” Jess exclaimed. “Do not even think you’re not going to tell me what happened.”

“Tell us,” Joey corrected.

“Um, no offense Joey,” I said, “but how about you ask Justin about this?”

He put on a fake frown. “I see, I know where I’m not wanted. See ya, Jess.” He gave her a quick kiss and headed out the door.

“Joey, I don’t mean it like that,” I explained.

He smiled. “I know, kiddo.” He patted me on the head and left.

“Well? What happened!?” Jess said excitedly, jumping up from the couch.

“Oh, Jess . . .” I said, sinking down onto the love seat. “I . . . I don’t know. It was just so wonderful . . . like a dream. I can’t even describe it for you.”

“Well, you can answer this: did he kiss you?”

I smiled and nodded.

“WHOOHOO!” Jess said. She started dancing around the room chanting GO TIFFY, IT’S YER BIRTHDAY.

“Jess, shush!” I said, laughing.

“Tiff, hel-looo,” she said. “Do you know what this means?”

I stared at her blankly and shook my head.

“You and Justin . . . you guys are an item!”

“Oh, come on Jess!” I said. “It was just one little kiss.”

Jessica squinted her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

“Okay, okay, it was one big, wonderful kiss.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said.

“But still,” I said. To tell you the truth, I knew we had something. But part of me said it was too good to be true.

“Well, did he ask you out again?” she questioned.

“Actually . . . yeah.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “See? Tiff, it’s all falling into place!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not exactly. Who says we’re getting married?”

“It’s gotta start somewhere,” she said. She paused. “You know . . . that song you wrote doesn’t pertain to you anymore.”

She was right. I had written this big sappy song to Justin, going a little something like this:

I’ve searched my whole life

For the perfect love for me

And now I have found you

But you can’t see

I wish and hope every day and night

That you will love me too

But for now I pray

That God will bring me to you

You took my heart and you didn’t even know

We’ve never said a word but I still love you so

And I know that in my heart we were meant to be

That’s our destiny

It just popped into my head one day. Every word exactly described the way I felt for Justin. But now I had him . . . and it was just so strange. I always said it would happen, but about 5% of me highly doubted it. It looks like I proved myself - and everyone else - wrong.     

THIRTEEN

The next morning I woke up to a knock on our bedroom door. In came Jessica’s mom. “Ladies,” she said. “There are two fine young boys at the door for you.”

Jessica and I looked at each other in panic. We both rushed to the bathroom, quickly brushing our teeth and throwing our hair up. We went into the living room to find Justin and Joey on the couch.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked.

“Well,” Justin said. “We both agreed we wanted to spend as much time as possible with you - so we came a little early.”

Early was right. I looked at the clock - 8:06.

“A little?” I said. Justin laughed and kissed me on my forehead.

“Well?” Jess said.

“Well, let’s go!” Joey exclaimed, standing up.

“Whoa, whoa!” I said. “I am not leaving anywhere looking like this.”

“Me neither,” Jess added.

“You look FINE,” Justin said. “Just go throw on a bathing suit.”

So me and Jess again went into our bedroom to put on our swimsuits.

“Jess,” I said as I pulled on my suit. “He doesn’t know.”

Jess gave me a confused look. “Know what?”

“He doesn’t know about me, about how I really feel about him,” I whispered. “I still love him,” I said. “And you know what happened on our date? He got recognized by a few girls. One of them was just like me - wrote a song for him, a letter, I mean she really loves him. When she left, Justin told me how he hates over-obsessed fans that come up to them declaring their love. He hates that! And I feel like I’m lying to him or something.”

“It’s not lying,” she said. “I mean, as long as he doesn’t ask ‘are you a really huge fan of ‘NSync with posters of me and songs written for me?’ which I doubt he will, you’re fine. Trust me.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll just try and forget about it,” I said, and went back into the living room.

“Ready?” Joey asked with a grin.

“Ready,” I said, forcing my smile.

Justin put his arm around me as we headed out to the beach, parting ways with Jessica and Joey.

“Well, Mr. Timberlake,” I said, “what do you have in store for us today?”

“Well, Miss Topol,” he said, smiling, “I don’t know! I figured we’d just walk around forever and see where we end up, just enjoying each other’s company, ya know?”

“Fine with me,” I said. Justin slid his hand down my

-------------------------

And that’s it. That’s all I wrote. If you don’t believe me: 

::shrug::

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction Novel - Chapter 11

If you are just joining us, this is the half-finished ‘NSync fanfiction novel I wrote in eighth grade, which I have transcribed for your reading pleasure. Check the archives for Chapter 1-10, and then get back here quick before On the Line happens. 

ELEVEN

It wasn’t until about 7:45 and I was almost done getting ready that Jessica walked in, starry-eyed.

“Geez, Jess, where have you been? Never mind . . . I can guess.”

She flopped onto the bed and sighed.

“Jess, are you okay?” I asked.

“No . . .” she said. “I mean, yes. YES. Tiffany, I have never been more okay in my entire life!”

“So I take it you’re over Justin?” I said.

“Totally,” Jessica replied. “I mean, Justin’s hot and all, but Joey is just totally amazing . . . I just didn’t see it until now.”

“Jess,” I said. “You weren’t gone all day for the reason I think you were gone all day, were you?”

“What?” Jessica said. “Oh . . . OH!” she said, surprised. “Tiff, no! No way! We just met!”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Good, ‘cause you know how Joey is, and I know how you tend to get caught up in the moment-“

“Tiff, that’s just it. Joey is totally not like that at all. I mean, I didn’t feel like he was pressuring me or just trying to get some at all. He is just so sweet and we think so alike . . . it’s like we’re . . .”

“Soul mates?” I suggested.

“Exactly!” Jess said. “There’s just something about him. And it’s not because he’s famous or rich . . . I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

“Wow, Jess,” I said. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

Just then there was a knock on the door. “That would be Justin,” I said.

“Wait, WHAT?” Jess said. “Justin is taking you out?” she said with a smile.

“Yes, is that surprising or something?”

“NO . . . wow, Tiff, you sure showed everyone who doubted you. Where’s he takin’ ya?”

“No clue,” I said. “I hope he takes me to the hotel restaurant thingy with the band, though.”

I opened the door to find Justin, all smiles and smelling like my favorite - Abercrombie & Fitch Woods. He was clad in - what else? A baby blue shirt and khakis. And to top it all off - a bouquet of daisies.

“For me?” I asked. Duh.

“For you,” Justin said, and handed them to me. I gave Jessica a quick smile.

“Well, let’s go,” Justin said, taking my hand.

“Have fun you kids!” Jessica called as the door shut.

We headed downstairs and out onto the beach. I didn’t want to sound rude by asking where we were going, so I kept quiet.

“Do you like your flowers?” Justin asked. “I knew they were your favorite so-“

“Wait,” I interrupted. “How did you know they were my favorite? I never told you that.”

Justin looked confused. “I could have sworn you told me . . .” He just laughed and put his arm around me.

We walked a little further down the beach until we reached our destination. It was the hotel/restaurant, and music from a live band drifted onto the beach.

“Geez, Justin, are you a mind-reader or something?” I joked.

“Nah . . . I guess we’re just meant for each other.

My thoughts exactly.

We sat down on one of the tables outside, not too near to the stage, even though the band was cool. We had both eaten beforehand so we each had a Coke.

“So, how long have you and Jessica been friends?” he asked.

“Ever since . . .” I almost said ever since we discovered we were both huge ‘NSync fans. But I didn’t want him to think I only loved him because he was in ‘NSync. “Ever since seventh grade.”

“That’s cool you guys are so close,” he said.

‘Yeah, she’s one of my very best friends ever.”

Justin smiled as he reached across the table to hold my hand. I looked closely into his eyes, which seemed to speak for themselves. I was oblivious of everything around me. And I just couldn’t get over how all of my praying had finally paid off. I silently thanked God about a thousand times, also praying none of this would ever end.

Justin leaned in towards me. This is it, I thought. My heart pounded. The first kiss.

But, very unfortunately, our moment was interrupted.

“OH MY GOSH!” someone shrieked. “IT’S JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE!”

More shrieks followed, and soon there was a crowd of twelve-year-old girls forming around our table.

“Oh god,” I heard Justin say under his breath. He put on a smile and greeted his rather YOUNG group of fans.

As he signed autographs and gave hugs, each and every girl gave me a very nasty look. One dark-haired chubby girl was unusually rude.

“What are you, the Bobsey Twins?” she asked.

I looked down. I, too, had picked to wear a baby blue shirt and khakis.

“Ouch,” I said.

“Too bad only Justin can pull it off,” she said, and walked away. I was unusually hurt by her comment, and I tried hard to hold back tears.

The crowd had died down to only one girl, about thirteen. She handed Justin a black magic marker and an ‘NSync baseball cap.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Jennifer,” she said quietly. “Justin? I just wanted you to know that I love you a lot, and I don’t know what my life would be without you. I think there’s more to you than fame, and I would do anything for you.” She handed him a white envelope. “This is a letter I wrote you. I revised it like three times. Oh, the song I wrote for you is in there, too.”

“Thank you,” Justin said, taking the letter as he shook Jennifer’s hand. She smiled, held her baseball cap to he chest, and walked away.

“A typical day in the life of me,” he said. “It scares me when girls like her come up to me. I mean, the screaming’s okay, but when a fan comes up to you confessing her love to you like that, that’s just scary.”

“Yeah, I would feel the same.” If only he knew that I lived the exactly life of that poor girl. But I was all too scared to tell him, especially after what he’d just said.

“I’m really sorry,” he said.

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” I said.

“No. It’s times like this I wish I was just a normal guy . . .” he trailed off.

“Justin,” I said, taking his hand. “There is nothing in this world that could make you a normal guy. Fame or no fame, you are an absolutely amazing, wonderful person. Nothing could change that.”

Justin smiled and looked at me for a second. “Do you always talk about yourself?”

My face got hot. “Oh, stop it,” I said as I shoved him playfully.

Just then the band started playing a slow song. Justin stood up and did a little prince charming bow. “May I have this dance?”

I giggled and said yes. He grabbed my hand and led me onto the dance floor. As he held me close I rested my head on his chest, breathing in his scent that made me weak. And as I stood there, in that perfect moment, I listened to the words of the song, and thought how no other song could describe that moment better:

Something in your eyes makes me wanna lose myself

Makes me wanna lose myself in your arms

Something in your voice makes my heart beat fast

Hope this feeling lasts the rest of my life

If you knew how much this moment means to me

And how long I’ve waited for your touch

And if you knew how happy you are making me

I never thought I’d love anyone so much

***

It grew late. Justin and I walked hand in hand down the now-empty beach. I looked up and noticed a lone star. “Make a wish,” I said, pointing up.

Justin closed his eyes tight, then opened them. “Okay, now you. And don’t forget to close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes and wished that Justin would kiss me, and we’d end up being together forever.

Suddenly I felt Justin place his lips on mine and pull me close to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, finally able to run my fingers through his curly hair like I’d only dreamed.

Justin pulled away, still holding me close, looking deep into my eyes. “What did you wish for?” he asked me.

“Well . . . I wished that you would kiss me.”

“Well,” he whispered, resting his forehead against mine. “It looks like both of our wishes came true.”

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction Novel - Chapter 10

If you are just joining us, this is the half-finished ‘NSync fanfiction novel I wrote in eighth grade, which I have transcribed for your reading pleasure. Check the archives for Chapter 1-9, and then get back here quick before Justin discovers head-to-toe denim.

TEN

We quickly changed into our swimming suits. I reapplied my makeup (“To go swimming?” Jess commented). Hey, if you had to make a good impression on the love of your life, you would wanna look your best, too. Right?

We headed downstairs to the pool. I looked around. No sight of Joey, Chris, or Justin.

“HEY! YOU GUYS! OVER HERE!” We looked over to see the guys in the ocean. Jess waved and started running toward them. I followed.

As soon as we got to the shore, Joey came and threw Jessica upside-down over his shoulder, yelling, “I AM KONG!”

“They’ll hook up by the end of the week, don’tcha think?” I looked over to see Justin. My heart started pounding again.

“Who, Jess and Joey?” Duh.

“Yeah,” he said, and smiled. “Tiffany, right?”

I nodded.

“How old are you, Miss Tiffany?”

“Seventeen.”

He smiled. “Do I need to tell you how old I am?”

I laughed. “No, I know.” Then there was that awkward moment of silence. If it wasn’t for the crashing waves and Joey and Chris yelling, Justin could have probably heard my heart beating. Good thing.

“Come here, I want to show you something.” He held out his hand. And me, stupid me, just stood there and stared at it.

“Come on,” he said. Oh, yes. Grab hand. Duh. Who’da thunk?

Justin led me down the beach about a quarter mile. “See,” he said. I looked down. There was a beautiful sand castle, with a draw bridge and a moat and everything. Every detail was so perfect.

“Oh my god, you made this?” I asked.

“Yep,” he said, and bent down to fix one of the towers.

“I never knew you were a sculptor.”

“Well, you don’t tell the public everything about you. Come on, would you really think a big pop singer would be interested in sand castle-making?”

“I don’t see why not,” I said. “It could give you another nickname. Justin DaVinci.”

He laughed. “I think we’ll stick to ‘Bounce’ or “Mr. Smooth.’ Hey, what do you like to do?”

“I perform. Singing, dancing, acting. it’s my life.” And you.

“Well, we already have somethin’ in common! You do school plays ’n stuff?”

“Yeah . . . but I really want to be a singer. Just up there on stage, with thousands of people screaming for you . . .”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool . . .” he said. “But, hey, what would I know.”

I laughed and nudged him. “Oh, shaddup.” We linked arms and headed back to the hotel.

Jess, Joey, and Chris were no longer in the ocean. They had migrated to the pool, where they were now having chicken fights.

“Lance in a chicken fight?” Justin said. “Is he on crank or something?”

I squinted my eyes. Sure enough, there was Lance, with Chris on his shoulders.

“Justin, bro! Get this fatty off me!” Lance shouted as we approached the edge of the pool.

“Stop making fun of Joey!” Chris yelled, and fell off Lance into the water.

“Shut up, I am not a fatty . . . ya fatty!” Joey yelled. He threw Jess of his shoulders.

Lance swam toward the edge of the pool. “Could you introduce me to this lovely lady here?” I felt my face get hot.

“This is Tiffany.”

“Hello, Tiffany. I’m Lance.”

As I reached down to shake his hand, Chris bolted over, grabbed my arm, and pulled me into the pool. Justin jumped in after me.

“Yo, JC! You’re finally awake!” Chris yelled. I looked up. There was JC, hanging over the balcony, yawning. He waved lazily.

“JC, get down here!” Justin yelled. Without a word he slowly turned around and went inside.

Justin turned to me. “Don’t worry, he’s really not rude or anything. He’s just tired.”

“I see,” I said.

“Lovebirds at three o’ clock,” I heard Lance say. I looked to find Jessica and Joey dangerously closet to each other, whispering at the end of the pool.

Chris began singing, “Jess and Joey sittin’ on a stump! All I hear is-“

“JC!” Justin yelled. JC walked lazily over to a pool chair and sat down, rubbing his eyes.

“Yo, sleepy! C’mere!” Justin called. JC got up and headed toward us.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Justin said.

“I’m Tiffany,” I said, and shook JC’s hand.

“So this is the flavor of the week, huh?” JC said. I couldn’t believe he said that! I turned to Justin with questioning eyes.

“JC, what the hell are you talking about?” Justin said angrily.

“Just jokin’, man,” JC said. “No need to get offensive. See ya. Nice to meetcha, Tiffany.” He headed back to his chair.

“Hey, JC! You see that girl? That girl right about to kiss Joey but she didn’t ‘cause she knew I was talking about her?” Chris yelled. “That’s Jessica!”

Sure enough, there was both Jessica and Joey, beet red and smiling shyly. They both waved at JC as they then got out of the pool and disappeared hand in hand into the hotel.

Justin turned to me. “Tiffany, please don’t think I’m like that. JC . . . he can just get like that sometimes. Please, don’t think that I would ever-“

“Shh . . .” I whispered. “I know.” I took a moment to give him my I understand totally look.

And that’s when he did it.

“Tiffany,” he said. “Will you go out with me tonight?”

I could have just started swimming laps and squealing. But I didn’t, of course.

“I would love to,” I said.

Justin’s eyes widened with excitement and he grinned widely. “Great, great,” he said. “Eight o’ clock. Will you have enough time to get ready?”

“Well, considering it’s five o’ clock right now, that’ll be pushing it,” I said sarcastically.

Justin laughed. “Okay. Well. See you at eight.”

And then a sudden twinge of bravery came over me and I did the unthinkable. I leaned over and kissed Justin on the cheek. He turned red and smiled. And as I headed up to my room, I knew I was probably doing the same.

[genynostalgia]

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction Novel - Chapters 8 and 9

If you are just joining us, this is the half-finished ‘NSync fanfiction novel I wrote in eighth grade, which I have transcribed for your reading pleasure. Check the archives for Chapter 1-7, and then get back here quick before JC grows a mullet.                                                            

                                                        EIGHT

“Are you okay, hon?” I felt someone help me up.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I just haven’t had much to eat today, and this heat is killing me.”

“Yeah, I know whatcha mean.” I looked up into two brown eyes.

“Joey Fatone!” Jessica said. “How the hell are ya?”

He laughed. “Good, girlie. Great. what’s your name?”

She smiled and batted her eyelashes. “Jessica. I’m a big, big fan.”

“Huge,” I said.

“That’s awesome,” he said. “And you?”

“Tiffany.”

“Tiffany . . .” He gave me a sly smile and nodded. “Could you ladies direct me to the little boys’ room? The rest of the guys are waitin’ outside.”

Jessica nudged me. Hold on, I thought. Justin. My love. Was outside. In a limo. This could be it . . . all I had to do was ask . . . or give Joey my letter.

“Thanks! Bye Jessica . . . and Tiffany!” Joey jogged off down the hallway.

“Tiff,” Jess said. “I love Joey.”

“Huh?” I said. And then I realized it. “Oh my god, he left?”

“Yeah . . .” she sighed.

“JESS! Justin is waiting outside! We have to go after him!” But the monorail train had just pulled up, and Jess was dragging me onto it.

“JESS, STOP! Don’t you even care?”

“TIFF,” she snapped. “We met a member of ‘NSync! What more could we ask for? We are two in a million lucky girls to get a rare chance like that!”

My eyes started to well up with tears. Why didn’t she understand? I was so close to the most important step in having my one dream finally come true, and I blew it. I just stood there, gawking like a frigging idiot, my letter - the key to all of this - was right there in my suitcase. I couldn’t even work up enough courage to give it to Joey. And now . . . I’ll never ever get the chance, ever again.

I started sobbing, right there, in the middle of the train. I might as well have had my heart ripped out, chopped up, and given to Justin to eat for dinner, because that’s what I felt like.

My life was over.

I had just lost something I never even had in the first place.         

                                                           NINE

I sobbed and sobbed the whole way home. Well, home to the hotel. I think I was annoying Jess and her parents, because as as soon as we got out of the rent-a-car, Jessica’s dad said, “Well, we’re gonna have such a fun time. How about you two girls go get unpacked while Nancy and I go to that lovely bar down the street?”

We carried our luggage into the elevator, up to the sixth floor. “Tiff,” Jess said. “I could understand how you feel. But do you seriously think he would have gone for you?”

“What are you talking about?” I said. “Like I’m not good enough for him or something? Jess, celebrities are people, too. They’re no different than you and me.”

“I guess,” she said, as the elevator doors opened.

We headed down the hall. Just as we reached our room, we heard someone call behind us. “Hey! Whoa, it’s Tiffany and Jessica!”

Jessica and I looked at each other and turned around.

Sure enough.

There was Joey.

“Joey!” Jessica said.

He approached us. “What a coincidence, you guys stayin’ in the same hotel as us!”

“Us?” I said. “I mean, you’re all staying here?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “We take up the first five suites.” He pointed down the hall.

“How cool is that?” Jessica said.

“Which one is Justin’s?” I asked.

Joey gave me that sly smile again. “Oh, so you like Justin, huh?”

“Well . . . a little.” HAH. If he only knew.

“A little?” Jess said. “Joey, she is obsessed!”

“Jess,” I whispered, and jabbed her with my elbow.

Joey laughed. “So how old are you guys?”

“Sixteen,” Jessica said.

“Seventeen,” I said.

“Hey, that’s cool,” he said.

Just then a door opened down the hall. “Joey, stop flirting and get yo’ ass in here!” It was Chris.

“I can’t believe this,” I said under my breath.

“Shut up, I’m talking to Tiffany and Jessica!” Joey said.

Chris trotted down the hall. “Well, hello, Tiffany and Jessica.”

“This is Tiffany.” Joey pointed at me. “And this is Jessica.” He put his arm around Jess. She smiled. “I met them at the airport.”

“What a coincidence,” Chris said. “Where are you from?”

“Chicago,” I said.

“Hey, that’s my kinda town!” Chris grabbed Joey, and they both started singing. “It’s myyyyyyy kinda town, Chicago is myyyyy kinda town!”

“What’s goin’ on out here?” The door to the room next to ours opened.

“Tiff, look who it is,” Joey said.

“Oh my . . .” I whispered.

Justin stepped out in front of me. There he was, three feet in front of me. I had waited what felt like my whole life for this moment. I couldn’t believe what was happening. All of my praying had finally paid off.

“Hey . . .” he looked me straight in the eyes.

Then I noticed it.

His pupils.

They were getting bigger.

I smiled. “Hello, Justin.” I could feel my heart pounding, practically in my throat.

“Well, you two could at least introduce me,” Justin said.

“THIS is Tiffany,” Joey said. Then he whispered, “She likes you.”

“Joey!” I whispered back. Justin laughed.

“Don’t worry, he’s used to it,” Chris said. “Justin’s Mr. Stud.”

“Shut up, man,” Just said, and punched Chris playfully in the arm. Then he turned bright red. I giggled.

“So, you guys up for a swim?” Jessica asked.

“JESS, stop it. They’re probably way busy, you know that,” I said.

“Actually,” Justin said. “It’s just the opposite.”

“We’re on vacation,” Chris said.

“What a coincidence,” I said. “So are we.”

“There ya go!” Joey said.

“Well, whadda ya say?” Jess said.

“C’mon, guys,” Chris said. “We’ll meet you two downstairs!” The three of them each went into their rooms.

“EEEEEEEEK!” Jessica and I both squealed, very loudly, at the same time.

“Oh my god, Jess,” I said. “I never . . . I never thought . . .” and then I broke down crying again.

Jessica hugged me. “Tiff, this is the best day of my life, and I get to share it with you!”

“I know . . . I know, Jess.”

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction Novel - Chapters 6 and 7.

If you are just joining us, this is the continuation of the half-finished ‘NSync fanfiction novel I wrote in eighth grade. Check the archives for Chapter 1-5, and then get back here quick before Joey goes fire-engine red. 

 SIX

Good thing my mom woke me up in the morning, ‘cause I forgot to set my alarm. That gave me exactly an hour before Jessica and her parents came to pick me up at 5:00 a.m. I got showered, did my hair and makeup, and called my dad. My parents have been divorced since I was seven. My dad lives about an hour from Oswego.

“Hey daddy,” I said when he answered.

“Hey honey,” he said in a groggy voice. “Couldn’t you have waited until you got there to call me?”

“I couldn’t wait,” I said. “And besides, I don’t want to cost Jessica’s family any money.”

“Oh, but you’re willing to wake me from a priceless sleep?

I laughed. The doorbell rang. “Jessica’s here.”

“Okay, have fun. Behave.”

“I will.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I hung up the phone and bolted down the stairs. Jessica and her parents were standing in the foyer, talking to my mom.

“EEEEK!” Jessica squealed. We jumped up and down for a few seconds until my mom calmed us down.

“Now behave for Jessica’s mom and dad and grandma,” my mom said as she handed me my luggage. Jess’s grandma’s the one who paid for the trip.

“I will, I will,” I said. I kissed my mom on the cheek.

“Say please and thank you,” she said. She turned to Jessica’s parents. “Make sure she behaves.”

“I don’t think there will be a problem,” said Jessica’s mom with a smile.

“Let’s go!” Jessica said. We headed out the door.

“Love you, mom!” I called.

“Love you, too!”

As soon as the door shut, Jessica yelled, “Myrtle Beach, here we come!”

I told her to shut up, she’d wake the neighbors.

I was very excited, but I still fell asleep in the car. I awoke an hour and half later as we arrived at O’Hare. It was light out now, and the sky was blue.

“Hey, Jess - look at the sky.”

She looked up. “Baby blue!”

“JUSTIN!” we both said, and laughed. Jessica has the cutest laugh in the world. Whenever you hear it, you just can’t help but smile.

We pulled up to an entrance - American Airlines. We unloaded all our luggage and headed inside.

“It smells like an airport,” I said as we entered.

Jessica breathed in. “Yeah, it does.” We laughed.

We headed for the newsstand and bought - what else - ‘NSync-included magazines. I feel really stupid buying all those little teeny-bopper magazines - BB, Bop, Tiger Beat, Teen Beat, 16 - but they all have pictures of my one and only love, so who cares?

We sat outside our gate, looking at our magazines. “What a cutie,” Jessica said as she turned to a picture of Justin. He was pointing and his tongue was hanging out.

“Jess?” I said.

“Uh-huh?” she said, still engrossed in the magazine.

“I love Justin.”

“Like you don’t tell me that every day,” she said.

“But Jess,” I said. “I really, really do think I am in love with him.” I paused and leaned in. “Jess. I would give up my dream to become a star just to be with him.”

She looked up at me. “You mean, to bone him?”

I sighed. “Jess. It’s not about lust. I would spend the rest of my life with him, even if I couldn’t jump his bones. I just wanna be with him.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow, Tiff. You are serious about this.”

I nodded.

“FLIGHT 131 NON-STOP TO MYRTLE BEACH IS NOW BOARDING.” The four of us got up and headed for the jet bridge.

“I get the window seat!” Jess shouted, and sprinted ahead.

“Wait up!” I called and ran after her. “Jess, STOP!” I said, and grabbed her shirt sleeve.

“What, you want the window seat?”

“No,” I said. “I have a funny feeling.”

Her smile faded. “Good or bad?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Something’s gonna happen. I know it. Whenever my wrist starts to hurt and I see spots.”

Jess laughed. “Oh, Tiff. Come on.”

“Jess, I’m serious.” But it was too late. She was already headed down the bridge.

“LAST CALL FOR FLIGHT 131 TO MYRTLE BEACH.” 

                                                     SEVEN

That feeling stuck with me the entire plane ride. It had spread to my stomach, forcing me to reach for my barf bag twice. I didn’t use it, though.

“Passengers, we would like to inform you we are now landing in Myrtle Beach. The temperature is eighty-five degrees and cloud cover is clear.”

Jess looked at me and squealed, then laughed. My stomachache faded.

“We’re finally here,” I said as I felt the plane descend and skip across the runway. Jess could hardly even wait for the plane to stop before she began gathering her things from the overhead compartments.

“Let’s go!” she half-shouted, and jogged off the plane.

“Jess, slow down!” her mom called after her.

“I’ll go after her,” I said, and headed off the plane. She was leaning against a telephone booth, already scoping out guys. “Don’t you think we should wait until we get to the beach before we scope out guys?” I said. “You’ll probably only find gay guy couples in black leather running around.”

“Hey - guys are guys, and that’s for me!” she said. We laughed.

“Let’s go get our luggage, girls,” Jessica’s dad said. We followed him over to the conveyer belt. We gathered our luggage and headed over to one of those monorail thingies that take you to the rent-a-car. We waited outside, with only a Chinese lady standing with us, for the next train.

I felt Jess tap me on the shoulder. “Tiff, look. Hot guy at six o’ clock.”

I looked behind me to find a super hot guy, about six foot, with spiky brown hair. “Ooh, he is a hottie,” I replied.

“Oh my god, he’s coming over by us!”

Sure enough, he was headed right for us. Jessica gasped.

“What?” I didn’t have my contacts in, so I couldn’t see his face yet.

“Uh . . .” she started getting nervous. “TIFF. Do you see who that IS?”

I looked.

I gasped.

My knees collapsed.

It was Joey.

Joey from ‘NSync.

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction Novel - Chapters 4 and 5.

If you are just joining us, this is the continuation of the half-finished ‘NSync fanfiction novel I wrote in eighth grade. Check the archives for Chapter 1-3, and then get back here quick before Justin incorrectly answers that age-old question, “to cornrow, or not to cornrow?”

                                                     FOUR

“BITCH!” Jessica slammed her books right down on Natasha’s lunch tray.

“What the hell was THAT for?” Natasha picked up the book with two fingers. It was dripping with milk and ketchup.

“For putting people through hell when they didn’t even do anything to you in the first place.”

Natasha put on a fake confused look. “What are you talking about?” she said.

Jessica put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask Tiffany? Oh, I forgot, you don’t TALK to DYKES.”

The entire lunch table gasped.

“Jess, okay, that’s enough,” I whispered to her. My face felt hot.

“No, Tiff. I’m not gonna stop until I make her feel the way she made you feel.”

“What?” Natasha said. “What are you gonna do to me? You can’t hurt me, emotionally or physically.”

“Oh, are you invincible or something?” Jessica said.

“At least I don’t need a bodyguard to stick up for me because I’m obsessed with a guy I don’t even know, like someone in this room.”

Everyone looked at me.

“THAT’S. IT!” I screamed.

Now the whole lunch room was quiet.

“It hurts me when you say I’m pathetic, weird, or obsessed. And it’s not just Natasha, it’s all of you. I hate how you bug me and torment me every frickin' day of my life, like you’re going to change my mind or something. Well you can’t. And you won’t. Natasha, I am not hurting you in any way. I don’t care if I’m annoying, I’m not hurting you. It is my damn life, and I can do whatever I want with it. I have my life, and YOU HAVE YOURS, and hopefully yours won’t include ruining mine.”

There were a few seconds of silence before someone yelled:

“GO TIFFANY!”

The room went up in applause. But it didn’t make me feel good. I ran out of there just as Jess was yelling, “Shut up, all of ya’s! This is not a frickin’ side show!”

                                                      FIVE

The school year came to a close. I was voted Best Actress, Best Voice, and Most Likely to Succeed for our junior class again. My performing skills are probably the only things I can be proud of. It’s really ironic that I’m so charismatic on stage - singing, dancing, and acting - but in real life, I’m this helpless, vulnerable, shy girl that needs one of her best friends to stick up for her.

It was the night before I got on the plane with Jessica to Myrtle Beach when I got the phone call from Natasha. I was almost finished packing when my phone rang. I almost let the machine get it (“Hi, you’ve reach the Timberlakes”), but I decided to pick up the phone.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Tiff?

“Yeah?”

“It’s Natasha.”

“Natasha? Talking to a dyke? Wow, you must be a changed woman.”

“I am. I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

I was shocked. I debated whether or not to accept her apology.

“Really. I am.”

I took a deep breath.

“How dare you call me up and ask for my forgiveness after you embarrassed me in front of the whole school and treated me like dirt? Not to mention ruining my life. You got what you wanted, so you leave me alone. In fact, I hope I never have to see you again.”

She was silent. Had she hung up?

“WELL I WASN’T REALLY SORRY ANYWAY!” Click.

I smiled and hung up the phone. Then I started to laugh. I felt so good! I had finally learned how to stick up for myself.

I had to dance. I put my Britney Spears single in my CD player. I used to love Britney Spears; I learned the whole “Baby One More Time” dance to perfection. After all, I have been dancing for eleven years. But after she did kiddy porn for Rolling Stone and got a boob job, I don’t look at her as the perfect role model anymore.

I did the whole dance great until the second double pirouette, where I landed smack on my butt. I was too tired to get up and do the rest, so I laid down on my floor. I noticed a white piece of paper under my bed. I stretched my arm to grab it and realized it was my letter to Justin.

Now - let me explain to you about this letter. This letter I wrote to him includes every though, every feeling, every wish I have for him. It has been revised four times. Also, I haven’t let anyone read it. Only a few people even know about it.

It’s for his eyes only.

I’m hoping for a “Can’t Hardly Wait” situation to happen. I just have to get that letter to him.

I stuffed the letter in my suitcase. Soon after, I drifted off to sleep, right there on the floor, with dreams of Myrtle Beach dancing in my head.

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction novel - Chapters 2 and 3.

If you are just joining us, this is the continuation of the half-finished ‘NSync fanfiction novel I wrote in eighth grade. Check the archives for Chapter 1 and then get back here quick before Chris grows another dreadlock.

TWO

I sat on my bed and looked around my room. I was up to 134 posters, each and every one including  Justin.

I had left school early, claiming I had puked while I was in the bathroom. The nurse fed me crackers while I rested on the cot in her office for an hour before my mom came and got me.

There was a knock on my door. Before I could say anything, my mom walked in. She sat down next to me on my bed.

“No, I didn’t really ralph,” I said.

“I didn’t think you did,” she said. “You were fine this morning.” I nodded. “What happened?”

“I’m so sick of everyone bugging me about Justin. It’s not like they’re going to change my mind. Why can’t they just leave me alone?” I started to cry again, and my mom hugged me. “I don’t care what anyone says.”

“Good for you,” she said.

“Someone wrote ‘Tiffany T. is a dyke’ in the bathroom.”

My mom’s eyes widened. “Tiff, that’s serious. Did you tell the principal?”

“Well, no,” I said.

“Why would someone write that?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe because I haven’t had a boyfriend in so long, or because I don’t like any guys from our school.”

“And that makes you a lesbian?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I laid my head in her lap. “I just love Justin so much. To go through all this crap just for him must mean something . . .”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she said.

“I can’t wait,” I said. “They will be so sorry. One day their foots will be so far up their mouths it’ll come out of their butt.”

My mom laughed. “I’m serious,” I said.

“What happens if you don’t marry Justin?” she asked.

“That won’t happen.” I sat up. “But if by some slight chance I don’t . . . well, then I just won’t marry anyone else.”

“Oh, you say that now.” My mom got up and headed toward the door.

“Mom,” I said. “You don’t understand. I know what I want.”

She shrugged. “Get some rest.” The door closed behind her.

I flopped on my back and sighed. I reached over to my CD player and pressed play. One of my five ‘NSync CDs is always sitting in my boom-box. I don’t really listen to the radio anymore.

Soon I drifted off to sleep, praying tomorrow would be a better day.                   

THREE

“Look right up there and think of Justin.” Katy pointed to the “Capacity 71 Passengers” sign at the front of the bus. Katy’s my other best friend.

“Why?” I asked.

“Just do it.”

I thought of Justin and I walking along the beach. Katy studied my eyes closely.

“Ah, you’re doing it!” She started laughing.

“What? Doing what!?” I tugged on the sleeve of her shirt.

“Nope, can’t tell you,” she said. “It’s just me and Jaclyn’s thing.”

“Well that’s pointless!” I said. “To make me do something and then you don’t even tell me what I’m doing, that’s pointless! Tell me.”

“Okay, don’t tell anyone.” She leaned across the aisle. “If you’re talking to or thinking about someone and your pupils get bigger, it means you really like them.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” I said. Now my love for Justin was proven. Not really, but that was pretty cool.

The bus squeaked to a stop outside our school, good ol’ Oswego Community High School. It’s pretty much your average high school. There just seems to be too many blue-haired freaks running around with needles in their arms, especially for a small farm town such as this one.

Katy and I strolled over to our usual group.

“HI TIFFANY,” Natasha screamed. Ugh. Miss Big Mouth herself. She is my friend, but there’s always this feeling she doesn’t like me very much.

“Hi Natash-“

“HOW’S JUSTIN?” she interrupted.

I gave her a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, you are MARRIED to him!” She buckled over laughing. The rest of the group kinda stared at her.

“Ugh, okay Natasha.” I turned toward Jenny, my other best friend.

“Hey, ‘Lo,” she said. “Lo” is the nickname she gave me, after my last name backwards: Lopot.

“Hey, Jen.”

“Nice shirt.”

I looked down. Today was the first day I had worn my ‘NSync shirt. “Thanks,” I said. The bell rang and we went inside.

“Tiffany!” I turned to find Jessica running up to me. “Guess where we will be one month from today?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right!” Jessica had invited me to go to Myrtle Beach with her that summer.

“I’m so excited . . . and I just can’t hide it!” she sang. She did a little flashdance.

“Okay, Jess. It’s still a month away, dear.”

“I know!” she squealed. “But I’m so excited!”

I shook my head. “Jess, Jess, Jess. What am I going to do with you? See ya.” I had to go to the bathroom.

I got in there and made sure I didn’t  pick the stall with the “forbidden words.” Just as I closed the door, I heard someone else come in. Two people, laughing.

“Oh, you’re so mean!” said one voice.

“Should I do it again?” said the other.

“No, once is enough.”

“Oh, come on. Anyone who’s obsessed as she is deserves a little reality check.” I saw four feet enter the stall next to mine. “This time I’ll carve it. T-I-F-F-T is a L-E-S-B-I-A-N. There. Now let’s go before someone catches us.” They rushed out the door.

The worst thing was, I recognized the voice of the “ghost writer.”

It was Natasha.

[genynostalgia]

My ‘NSync Fanfiction novel - Chapter 1.

Last year I came across the holy grail of everything I’ve ever created - the half-finished ‘NSync fanfiction novel I wrote in eighth grade. For months I’ve carried it with me, thirteen chapters and fifty-eight handwritten pages torn out of a spiral notebook and stapled together. I have now typed it up and will release it to the public serially. It’s a real nail-biter so I am confident you will stay with me. Enjoy.

CHAPTER ONE

“LESBIAN!”

“Shut the hell up!”

That’s the good thing about having Jessica as a best friend. Her big mouth actually comes in handy, considering I can’t use mine. Well, I could, but I’m too nice of a person. Even when people do call me names.

“Do not let a few people give you crap,” she said. “Most of the people in this school love you; don’t let a few a-holes get you down.”

“Thanks,” I said, and opened my locker. Ah, my only solace: staring right back at me was the love of my life.

“He kinda looks weird in that picture. He needs a haircut.” Jessica cocked her head to study the 8x10. She was right - his hair was gettin’ kinda afro-y. But I’m not one to care about inferior things like hair.

“Don’t make fun of my Justin,” I said sympathetically.

“Your Justin?” she said. Jessica and I had never really gotten into a fight before. Just petty arguments over Justin.

“Oh, Jess.” I shut my locker. “Let’s not start with that again.”

“Hey, Tiff!” I turned around to see Laura, my other best friend. Laura and Jessica aren’t really friends. Laura is part of the so-called “popular group.” So am I. Jess is part of a different group. So am I.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey, Jessica.”

“Hey, Laura.”

There was an awkward moment of silence before Jessica spoke up. “Well, I gotta go to science. I’ll write you, Tiffany.” She jogged away, clutching our notebook to her chest.

“Good, I needed to talk to you anyway.” Laura looked around nervously and came closer to me.

“Yeah?” I was afraid to hear what she was about to say.

“Um, I was in the bathroom last hour. And on the inside of one of the stalls it said ‘Tiffany T. is a . . . ‘“

“Is a what?”

She leaned over and whispered, “. . . dyke.”

I felt my face get hot, and tears started to well up in my eyes.

“Oh, Tiff.” Laura hugged me. “Tiff, why can’t you just get a boyfriend?”

“You haven’t had a boyfriend, why is no one calling you gay?”

“Tiff, that’s just the way people are,” she said.

“I gotta go,” I said between sobs. I started down the hallway.

“Okay, Tiff. I’ll see you next hour,” Laura called after me.

The walk to math felt like an eternity. I kept my head down the whole way, letting no one see my red nose and running mascara. I walked into the room just as the bell rang and quickly sat in my seat.

“Tiff, are you okay?” I heard Amanda say from behind me. My other best friend.

I wiped my tears and put on a smile. “I’m fine,” I said, and put my head back down.

“Clear your desks, except for a pencil and a calculator,” Mrs. Tonelli said. She began to hand out tests. Mrs. Tonelli is one of the nicest people I know, but the fact she’s a math teacher ruins everything.

I stared blankly at my test. I had forgotten to study last night, and the situation I was in right now wasn’t going to help me, either. I wrote my name in the blank space provided.

                                       Tiffany Topol-Timberlake.

A tear slid down my cheek and dotted the “i” in “Timberlake.”

“May I go to the bathroom, Mrs. Tonelli?”

She looked at my tear-streaked face. “Hurry.” I nodded and ran out of the classroom.

I burst through the bathroom door. Good thing no one was in there - I hate being in bathrooms when there are other people in there. I entered the stall and sat on the toilet, sobbing. My head was buried in my hands.

And then I saw it. Right next to “I <3 Matt P.” and “Nicole wuzz here.” In black permanent marker.

TIFFANY T. IS A DYKE

[genynostalgia]

An important selection of movie tickets. I was milking that thirteen-year-old status HARD (thanks for the permission slip to see Scream 3 mom).

[genynostalgia]

I saw C-Note at the House of Blues in Myrtle Beach in 1999. There were sixty people in the audience - half were the parents who drove. If you’re unfamiliar with C-Note (an acronym for Creating Nothing Other Than Excellence), they were one of a handful of Lou Pearlman’s BSB/*NSync copycat bands - but with a LATIN FLAIR. Like, take the “latin spice” of Howie D (actual Lou Pearlman quote) and multiply it by three, but keep one blonde guy because THIS IS THE 90′s WE NEED MORE NICK CARTERS.