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i know ive been super slacking. you know when you get all ready to do something everything kinda goes wrong. yeah... that sucks. anyway, i finally am able to update!!! yay!!! and i already started the next chapter last night, so it WILL (not should) be up next week. thanks AGAIN for being so patient with me. you guys rock. and since you were so patient... PARTS I AND II!!!!!!

and happy 4th of july and what not to those who celebrate.

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Chapter 20 ---- Part I



Sara sat on the stool next to my counter, pushing around macaroni and cheese with a sigh. “I knew she would do that. I should’ve figured out what she was doing when she kept glancing all around the store when she was talking to that guy and girl. They didn’t even pretend to be browsing. It was so obvious. If you want, I can kick her ass tomorrow.” She said, suddenly looking excited. I smiled and rolled my eyes. “If you want.” I replied.

After contemplating it over all day, I decided to be extra brazen and come right out and ask her if she talked to the reporter. She looked hurt and upset at first, but we got to talking about the whole situation, and what Nick had said to me, and she finally said she could see where I was coming from and how I must be feeling about everything. Then I asked her if she though it could be Kendall, and she said no, because her and Kendall were practically attacked at the hip all day. We finally concluded that the first girl Nick and I talked to was the one who must’ve talked to the reporter.

“She is such a bitch. All the time. I bet her dumb ass didn’t even get any money out of it. She probably thought they were going to put her name in the article or something. She’s trying to be an actress…. or a singer. ” Sara continued, pretending to gag herself. “Can she do both?” I asked. Sara just laughed. “She can’t do either. She’s going to audition for American Idol, but that depends if the ‘Americas Got Talent’ audition goes well or not. She’ll be on one of the shows… in the first few episodes anyway.” She giggled. “I kinda hope to see her there.” I replied, throwing my paper plate in the trash can. Sara did the same and followed me out into the living room, plopping down on the sofa while I grabbed the remote from the coffee table.

“So, superstar, what’s it like to see yourself in a big fancy magazine.” Sara asked, dangling the copy I took from Nick’s house in front of my nose. I rolled my eyes and took it from her. “First off, it’s not a magazine, it’s a tabloid. They are very different. Second, it sucks. It’s invasive and creepy and strange.” I replied, tossing onto the coffee table and turning the TV on. “Come on, it has to be KIND of cool. I mean, to someone who reads ‘Star’, you’re famous.” She said knowingly. “Well, maybe someone will ask for my autograph and sell it on eBay. Then I’ll know I’ve made it.” I replied, stretching out on the sofa.

“Speaking of the wonderful world of Carter, how is everything over there?” she asked, grabbing the remote from the cushion and flipping through the channels. “Good I guess. I don’t know, we’re weird together. I guess he’s kinda fun to hang around. But I still can’t stop looking at him like this spoiled little popstar that fucks anything that looks his way.” “That’s an awkward way to look at someone.” Sara replied, wrinkling her nose. I laughed and nodded. “Yeah, it kind of sucks. And I’m so confused about this whole Christmas thing. I mean, what the hell do you buy a millionaire for Christmas? ‘Here Nick, a fifty dollar gift certificate to J. Crew. Go crazy.’ Christmas in in like… TWO weeks!” I said, putting my hands in front of my face.

“I dunno. I mean, I guess whatever you get his will be cool. I honestly don’t think he expects some extravagant gift from you, anyway. Just the fact that you, the love of his life, are gonna be with him on Christmas is probably enough for him. But if it helps, I can hook you up with a discount on our Christmas themed baby-dolls. Spice things up a bit.” She shrugged. “Sara! He better NOT expect and extravagant gift, I am NOT the love of his life, and I am NOT wearing lingerie at my bosses house on Christmas!” I replied, exhausted. She just shrugged. “Lauri, he invited you… over his house…. not only for Christmas….. but also to stay over Christmas Eve. People that are just kinda acquaintances don’t do that.” she said in her ‘duh’ voice. “Sara, I’ve stayed over your house before on Christmas and Christmas Eve, and you don’t want to sleep with me, what makes this situation any different?” I asked, rolling my eyes again. “Who said I didn’t want to sleep with you?!” she asked exasperated. I gave her a confused look, and after a few minutes, she finally burst into laughter. “Lauri, when you’re all flustered and confused you get so gullible. It’s almost frightening.” I simply gave her the finger and continued on with the conversation. “Anyway, whatever. I know that it’s not true,” she stuck her tongue out at me, “so can you PLEASE help me figure out what to get this man?”

**next day** 9:30

I sat at my desk, going through the calendar and putting in the last official tour date in the schedule that had to be sent out to the Backstreet Boys’ managers so they could monitor what Nick was doing during his tour. Kodi had explained to me that even though they didn’t have any control over what he was doing while he was on his own, they still like to keep a track record over what each member of the band does while not on official Backstreet crap for Human Resources or something. Probably to throw it in his face when or if the group decides to get back together, but no one really worries about it now.

I checked all the dates and venues, a d when I was happy with it, I sent it to Kodi who would then RE check it and send it to, well, probably someone else to recheck it. It will eventually turn up with his manager, hopefully before the end of the tour.

Now bored, I looked around the office trying to think of something else to do with myself. Sara and I talked last night about Nick’s gift, and we finally decided that I should just ask him up front and not play this stupid guessing game. We both figured that whatever he wants he can just buy himself anyway, so what’s the point of stressing. Plus, the whole guessing game is only fun with your close friends, anyway. I just hope whatever he wants is less then my monthly check to pay off my student loan.

I was about to go raid his kitchen when Nick , wearing nothing but boxers and a wife-beater, practically burst through my door laughing hysterically. I looked up at him as he stumbled around my office until finally falling down into the chair in front of my desk.

I cocked my head to the side, stared at him as he continued to keel over into fits of laughter, and finally got up and walked out of the room. I could smell a mixture of alcohol and cigarettes on him from across the desk, and was just not in the mood for his games this early in the morning.

I walked straight into the kitchen, headed for the freezer , popped it open and found exactly what I was looking. I grabbed the box of Toaster’s Strudels and dumped the last two Strudels onto a napkin on the counter. Only in my life do you get paid to eat your bosses last two breakfast pastries. I began the strudel heating process as Nick followed me into the kitchen and fell onto the floor.

Like, he was literally laying on the floor.

“I’m drunk.” he pronounced, beginning to imitate the making of a snow angel. (And in all honesty, I really believed he thought he was actually doing it.)

“I can tell.” I replied, stepping over him to get to the toaster. “I have a girl upstairs.” he slurred, continuing to …. snow angel. “Well, you better go tend to her.” I replied, uninterested.

This phrase cause him to curl up and laugh again, and I just rolled again and prayed this damn toaster would pop soon.

“Like a…. FLOWER!” He screamed, giggling and snorting like a four year old on crack. Except he was a 25 year old…. that, well, was still most likely on crack.

“Yup, just like a flower.” I replied. Has it really only been 20 seconds. And this piece of shit needs to stayed down there for 5 minutes. I think I’ll write to the pastry company about this.

“I just got two hours ago.” he said, pulling himself off the floor and leaned on the table. He wobbled for a minute, then finally collapsed into a chair. “You got home at 7:30 in the morning? What the fuck did you guys DO last night?”

Why am I actually trying to hold a sane conversation with him right now?

“We were… dancing and partying and driving and I drank some and I had sex like…. a million times.” he said, which, as you may or may not have guessed, caused him to begin to laugh again. I rolled my eyes and grasped the counter. I hate being around obnoxiously drunk people. But I figured since I will probably be dealing with this while I baby sit him on tour, I figured now would be a good crash course.

“A million? That’s a lot.” I replied, turning around to lean on the counter.

“Well, not really a million…. more like…. 4.” he replied, counting on his fingers. “But I think there were like… 7 girls. One of them is in my room.” He said, winking at me. Oh my God, he is such a sleaze. “Were you intoxicated with you were having sex? Did you use protection?” I asked. “Was I in.. toxa… intoxa…..intoxalted?” he asked, looking so painfully confused I want to cry for him. “Drunk, Carter? Where you drunk when you had sex?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t remember.” he replied, waving his hands in the air.

That means yes.

He sighed loudly and banged his head on the table. “I’m hungry!” he whined. “I think that’s why I came down here.” he continued, picking his head back up. “Well then you better make yourself something.” I shrugged, waiting the last minute till my strawberry strudel popped.

“I don’t think people will think were dating anymore. I think the papa… the papara… paparizzi took lotsa pitures of me and…. stuff.” he said, rubbing his temples.

The toaster finally popped and I grabbed the pastry that popped out and put them on a paper plate. I brought it back over to the kitchen table where Nick was, opened the icing packet, and began to spread the icing around.

“That looks good.” Nick mentioned as I took the knife to spread the icing. “I bet it will be. You should go make yourself one.” I figured he wouldn’t feel like actually get up to make himself one, but even if he did, he’s too drunk to comprehend that there aren’t any more left and will probably end up sticking Ellio’s pizza in the toaster. He’ll eventually figure it all out, but I figure by that time I’ll be on my way home.

I really do believe it will take that long.

After I finished icing, I got up to go the fridge to grab some cranberry juice and then to the cupboard to grab a glass. By the time I poured, put the container back in the fridge and got back to the table, the second strudel was already half devoured.

“Nick, are you fucking serious?” I asked as I sat down at the table. “I was fucking hungry. This shit is hot.” he commented, reaching for the last piece.

I want to punch him in the forehead.

Just then, this chick clad only in her underwear saunters right into the kitchen. “Nicky, I’m lonely.” she purred, leaning against the counter. She was pretty much wasted too, but I don’t think as bad as Nick.

“I’m sorry, Stephany.” He purred back, pushing his chair back. “It’s Stacy.” she pouted. “Same thing.” he muttered as she sat on his lap. He kissed her on the lips quickly and then they began…. just going at it on the table. For a minute I was in utter shock and couldn’t move. She was pulling his shirt above his head and throwing it onto the floor, he was putting her up on the table, and I was sitting there directly across from them, like the biggest dumb ass in the world. He was about to pull off her underwear, and then he looked up at me and asked, “Do you wanna get in on this?”. I just stared at him for a minute and he raised his eyebrow at me.

It felt like this entire situation finally hit me and I was pulled back into this universe in that moment. “No, that’s ok. I have… work.” He just shrugged and went back to what he was doing.

I walked out of the kitchen as quickly as possible, walked into my office, and practically fell into my swivel chair.

Did the last three minutes actually just happen? First off, the entire phrase, “Do you wanna get in on this?” ? It sounded like someone who was collecting money in an office for group lottery tickets or something.

Second…. Well, duh. My boss just invited me to have a threesome with him and some chick named Stacy on his kitchen table. That in itself was proabaly the most uncomfortably strange thing that has ever happened to me. Even if you add up all the akward stuff in my life that’s happened, I don’t think it will equal. That was just… woah.

This is so grounds for a lawsuit and the biggest tabloid story of the year.

I need to talk to Sara.