Puddle of Grace
Chapter Five
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight

So I guess the fortune teller's right
I should've seen just what was there
And not some holy light
But you crawled beneath my veins and now
I don't care
I have no luck
I don't miss it all that much
There's just so many things
That I can't touch

According to AJ, most glamorous Hollywood heroes and heroines spend the night of an awards ceremony living it up in a posh hotel suite provided for them by their adoring, demanding management. Unfortunately, AJ was the only glamorous Hollywood hero in our little bunch. I had class the next morning and Taylor had to work, so the Backstreet Boy traded in his night in a posh suite for a red-eye to New York, New York with two exhausted bartenders and a light suitcase full of ball gowns.

Nick bid us good-bye from the limousine that took us to the airport. We had supposedly ended the evening on a friendly note in which we both thanked each other for a good time and a good conversation, but I wasn't expecting anything. After all, he'd just broken up with the love of his life, and I'd insulted her more than once. In my mind, it had NOT been a successful evening.

Well, it had been semi-successful. I'd gotten to stare at a gorgeous man for a few hours. For a smaller amount of time, I'd actually gotten to entertain the idea that he might be interested in me.

Of course, like everything else, the evening only brought the realization that this isn't my fairy tale.

Paris freaking Hilton. I couldn't believe it. In fact, I spent the entire flight shaking my head in amazement, trying to figure out how such a wonderful guy had ended up with a blonde disaster like that. I couldn't believe he'd actually fallen in love with her. I couldn't believe she'd been dumb enough to cheat on him.

I definitely couldn't believe that neither AJ nor Taylor had had the grace to tell me any of the above. Of course, it was that particular detail that spun 'round and 'round in my tired skull over the course of the five-hour cross-country flight. By the time we flung the apartment door open at seven-fucking-thirty in the morning, I was positively livid.

AJ shut the door behind him, and I let rip with the scream that had been tickling my esophagus for the past few hours.

"Paris Hilton. Seriously? The tabloid queen? The sex tape scandal? The hotel mogul's platinum blonde ditz of a daughter? Paris fucking Hilton?!" I glared accusingly at my two roommates. "Surely you knew about this."

AJ winced. Taylor had the grace to look guilty.

I could practically feel my blood boiling.

"Why the hell didn't either one of you tell me anything?!"

Taylor sucked in a deep breath. AJ reached up a hand and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well?!"

They expelled a sigh at the exact same time, and I was positive that my eyes were going to roll right out of their sockets in unabashed annoyance with my two beloved roommates.

"I can't believe you two. You let me get all dressed up. You let me fuss over my hair and my make-up like some superficial, shallow...like it actually mattered to him what I looked like. And then, as if the complete and total desecration of my dignity isn't enough, you added insult to injury by letting me flirt shamelessly with him all evening, both of you knowing--the entire time--that nothing could ever come of it because some other, thinner, blonder Barbie doll socialite has already ripped his heart out and done the Mexican Hat dance over it."

I paused to suck in a deep, deep breath. AJ arched an eyebrow.

"Are you done?"

My eyes blazed menacingly. "Oh, honey, I'm just getting started..."

"Can you stop for a second?"

I glared. "Give me ONE good reason to stop."

AJ sighed heavily. "Okay, you don't have to stop, really. You just have to pause so that I can explain myself."

I sucked in an angry breath and tried to remember what it was like to be completely and totally unconcerned with minute things like a social life.

"You have two minutes."

AJ flinched. "First of all, this isn't Taylor's fault. She knew Nick used to date Paris, but she doesn't know a lot of the details."

He paused to glance at me. From the apprehensive grimace on his tattooed, pierced features, I wasn't sure if he was scared or just expecting a response. Either way, I didn't give him any reassurance. Remember, I was pissed off. I'd just been unofficially rejected by the most beautiful man I'd ever met.

In the back of my mind, this obnoxiously sane little voice kept telling me that we'd both agreed that this wouldn't be a date. It took the remainder of my mental faculties to keep from choking that little voice to death.

Lust inspires a lot of things, ladies and gentlemen. Rationality isn't one of them.

"Secondly, he's completely and totally over her."

I arched an eyebrow doubtfully. Considering the way the blood was starting to rush in my ears, I'm highly impressed that that's all I did.

"Seriously, Heads--he dated her for, like, a couple of months earlier this year, and then he dumped her ass after he found out that she wasn't taking their relationship seriously. She's a hardcore party girl, and while Nick likes the occasional night out, he's just not into that. He wants someone intelligent, someone who he can have a real connection with, and she just wasn't that person. I doubt she's even on his radar screen anymore. Hell, had she not been at that party, I'm sure her name wouldn't have come up at all."

I continued to stare incredulously at him. Are you fucking kidding me? He spent the entire evening wallowing in his post-split misery. He's still in love with the girl, for God's sake. She's a two-bit whore masquerading as a sophisticated socialite, and he fucking fell in love with her. Here I am, a girl with a brain and beautiful ball gown, and all he can talk about is his peroxide-laden ex-girlfriend, a hotel mogul's daughter who, without her millions, is nothing but a pathetic excuse for a pretty woman.

I opened my mouth to recite my little rant word-for-word, but the genuine confusion on AJ's face stopped me. Something about the situation just seemed off. Alex is one of the most caring people I know. Instinctively, I knew that, if AJ wasn't aware of Nick's mini-obsession with Paris Hilton, there was a reason for it. I wasn't quite sure what that reason was, but I knew that, after Nick had poured his heart and soul out to me, I owed it to the beautiful blonde to keep quiet.

I hated that, even though I knew I didn't stand a chance with him, I still wanted to keep his secrets.

AJ paused to stare inquisitively at me for a moment. "Dude, it took an act of God for me to convince you to go on this date in the first place. Why are you getting so riled up about this Paris Hilton thing?"

A good, solid question.

"I...ummm..."

I groaned. Loudly. Fucking Bucs boy owed me big time. Despite the obscene number of orgasms I've faked in my lifetime, I'm a terrible actress...especially around my friends. I can't lie worth shit. No, if I wanted AJ to believe anything I had to say, I was going to have to take a few steps into seemingly vulnerable territory and make it look like I was sacrificing my dignity for Nick's surreptitious interests.  Translation?  This was going to have to be one hell of a dramatization.

"Honestly? I was kind of excited about this date thing. Nick...well, despite the fact that he's a Cowboys fan, he's a really nice guy. He's smart, he's funny, and--let's face it--he's really hot."

I glanced over at Taylor for validation, and she nodded her agreement.

"Underneath all the feminist discourse, I'm just a weak little girl who wants the pretty boy to like her, okay? Much as I hate to admit it, I made an effort to impress tonight, and...in Rock Star Land, Paris Hilton is a tough act to follow. You guys made me believe I stood a chance of at least being friends with this guy, but his track record says otherwise, and...THIS is EXACTLY why I don't date, okay? I'm not cut out for it. The guy's always looking for something a little bit more than me, and I hate looking like a fool."
Silence.

Normally, this was the part where Taylor would chide me for being melodramatic and AJ would crack some joke about how the ice queen couldn't possibly have a heart beneath that cold exterior. Eventually, the jokes would get to me, and I'd roll my eyes and concede that maybe—MAYBE—I had overreacted a bit, and we'd all just go on with our lives like nothing had happened.

I wasn't used to silence. Especially not silence that sounded sympathetic. Silence gave me time to think about all of the shit I'd just admitted to, and that was a bad, bad thing.

Holy hell...do I actually mean all of that? Is that idiotic outburst actually true?

A throat cleared in the silence, and I thanked God for the opportunity to avoid yet another pointless analysis of my overactive brain.

Because I wasn't analyzing my heart this time. I wasn't. I wasn't.

"Diana..."

I twisted my features into what I hoped was a convincingly angry glare and looked up at AJ.

"What?"

It took all of my willpower not to crumble at the genuine expression of concern on his face.

"Do you really believe all of that?" he asked me softly.

I arched an eyebrow menacingly. "Do I look like I'm lying?"

From her position behind AJ, Taylor inhaled sharply.

"Heads...we weren't trying to put you in a position to feel foolish. We honestly thought you and Nick would get along," she explained quietly. "Hell, you're both smart and funny and stubborn. We figured that you'd fall in love if you managed to avoid killing each other over old football rivalries."

"Please. I don't have anything against the Bucs." I rolled my eyes in mock annoyance. In all honesty, though, I was beyond touched by their displays of affection. I was actually starting to feel bad. Damn Bucs boy and his stupid secrets. As soon as lab was over, I had half a mind to call him up and demand to know why he'd lied to Alex about the fate of his relationship. Of course, that would involve talking to him again, and after the disaster of a date we'd had, I wasn't too keen on the idea of another conversation.

I may be nice, and he may be pretty, but I really do hate Paris Hilton. Listening to him wax poetic about her for another hour or so was more than I could handle.

"You didn't answer my question," AJ remarked pointedly. "Do you really believe all of that?"

Did I?

Hell freaking yes.

"Unfortunately."

The pitying silence that ensued was too much.

"Look, just forget it. I'm going to go throw on some decent clothes and head to lab. When I get back, let's just pretend that this weekend never happened."

AJ shook his head. "No can do, Lady Di. Come here."

He used both of his skinny arms to beckon me forward, and I could already feel the potential for waterworks. An actual hug would've sent me straight over the edge.

"AJ, no offense, but I really don't have time for a Brady Bunch moment right now. I'm going to be late."

I am such a bitch.

"He does like you, you know."

I sucked in a breath and turned to head in the direction of my bedroom. "Right. It's okay, AJ. I know I'm no match for Paris Hilton." Especially not when the object of my casual affection is still fucking in love with her. "I appreciated the opportunity, okay? You were right. I needed a date with a gentleman, and you delivered. I'm sorry I overreacted."

"I'm sorry you felt foolish," AJ returned softly, "but I'm not sorry I set you two up, Lady Di. Taylor's right; you two are perfect for each other. And mark my words--he will call. You definitely made an impression on the boy, okay? He's not going to just forget about you."

I slammed the door and rolled my eyes and spent the entire morning telling myself that I didn't care whether or not AJ was right.

*      *      *      *      *

It was somewhere around ten o'clock when I finally fell through the splintering door to our apartment. I knew Taylor wouldn't be home because I'd called her earlier to ask her to fill in for me at the bar, but I was surprised to see AJ planted firmly between the couch cushions, surfing through the four channels we could get with our ghetto, foil-covered antenna.

I know what you're thinking. I may be a struggling college student, but my kick-ass, bartending roommate has a Backstreet Boy for a boyfriend. Technically, we should be able to afford better digs--or at least cable. Taylor's self-sufficient to the point of being anal, though, and I've already sacrificed enough of my dignity for an extra bit of cash. Neither one of us are into the idea of becoming pop star charity.

Because AJ knows what's best for him--and because he's deathly afraid of Taylor's acidic temper--he lets us keep our pride.

"Dare I ask what you're watching?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin as my question echoed in the empty apartment. "Shit, Heads! Don't sneak up on people like that!"

I bit my lip to keep from laughing and tried to make my way discreetly towards my cell phone, which lay forgotten on the kitchen counter. "Sorry. I was kinda loud coming in. I figured you heard me."

AJ switched the television off immediately. "I was kinda distracted. They were showing Psycho on TV."

"Were?"

"Yeah," AJ clarified. "It ended about five minutes ago. I was trying to find something funny to watch when you snuck in."

I rolled my eyes in amusement. "Alex, I tripped over the rug in front of our door and barely managed to get the key in the lock before I fell. That hardly counts as sneaking."

AJ folded his arms petulantly across his chest. "It was a scary movie," he pouted.

I turned away from him to hide my smile and began rummaging around in the fridge for anything that could possibly count as dinner. "You do know that it's just a movie, right?"

His childish mocking was interrupted by my discovery of a large box crammed in between the shelves. "Whoa! When'd you get pizza?"

"Tonight," AJ admitted with a grin. "Taylor had to work, so she wanted something fast, and...well, we decided to get you something special as well."

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion and slowly pulled my head out of the fridge. "Why?"

Before I knew what was happening, AJ had whirled me around so that his arms were around my waist and his voice was in my ear. "I owe you an apology," he murmured softly.
Being a New Yorker, I'm not much into hugs. AJ knows this.

I shoved him back roughly. Perhaps too roughly. He kinda stumbled a bit on the uptake.

"Why do you owe me an apology."

I'm pretty sure that was supposed to come out sounding like a question.

It didn't.

He cocked his head thoughtfully, but he didn't try to hug me again. "I was wrong about you. I was all worried that you were  going to pull your hard-ass act and raise unnecessary hell to protect yourself from Nick, but I underestimated you."

I winced at the recollection of my God-awful blind date with the world's most ridiculously besotted Backstreet Boy.

"No you didn't. I know I didn't go into details, but it was bad, AJ. I was a bitch." A very bitter, sarcastic bitch who in NO way developed ANY feelings for Nick fucking Carter.

Silently, I wondered if I had enough time to repeat that to myself five times fast.

"Not according to Nick," AJ told me softly. "According to Nick, you were more of a saint than a bitch." He took a step closer, and I could almost smell the pity radiating off of him. "According to Nick, he was the bitch."

I immediately dropped my gaze to the floor and scuffed my sneaker like a bad four-year-old. "Nick wasn't a bitch..."

I didn't have to see AJ arch his eyebrow. I could feel it.

"He said he spent the entire night whining about his ruined relationship with Paris fucking Hilton."

Man, a lot of people were using "fucking" as their middle name lately. I was going to have to look into that.

"He did?"

"Yup."

I decided to take the trusty smartass route. "Paris fucking Hilton, huh? Did she change her name before or after the sex tape came out?"

"I changed it. Right after Nick finally came clean about the fact that the bitch had been cheating on him."

The sharp tone in AJ's voice took me by surprise. I'd never heard him sound that angry before. Suddenly, I was really, really glad that I hadn't been the girl to screw Nick over.

It still hurt that AJ thought I could've been, though.

"I'm sorry."

I looked up in surprise. "Why?"

He sighed. "I promised you a date with a gentleman, and you ended up babysitting a heartbroken Backstreet Boy." He laughed lightly. "You and Taylor just seem to have a knack for meeting us under the worst circumstances, I guess."

"Hero" wasn't a title I wore well.

"I was hardly the picture perfect babysitter, Alex," I admitted. "I...you know me. I said a lot of harsh things. I insulted Paris when I probably shouldn't have. I wasn't...I wasn't very nice about the whole thing. I was...well, I was characteristically insensitive."

Sad but true.

"Nick said you were extremely sensitive," AJ countered with a smile. "Of course, I didn't believe him at first, but he started to relay bits of your conversation, and I realized he was right. He said you were very good about putting things in perspective."

I snorted. "That's one way of putting it..."

AJ stopped me with a single look. "Enough, Diana. Look, Nick's a lot like you, okay? He doesn't trust people easily. He rarely shows his deeper, sentimental side to anyone. The fact that he showed it to you in all its gruesome, heartbroken glory--AND the,fact that you didn't reject him for it--rates you very high on my list. He felt terrible for putting you in such an awkward position, but he thinks the world of you for the honest, straightforward way you dealt with it."

I snorted again, and AJ rolled his eyes.

"Can't you just accept the fact that you did a good thing?"

I rolled my eyes in return. "It wasn't a good thing, AJ. Anyone would've done it. It's called being nice."

"Yeah, but you kept his little secret. He called me to apologize for making a disaster of the evening with all of his prattling, and I finally had to ask him what the hell he was talking about. He was shocked as shit that you hadn't told me anything." He paused to laugh. "I have to say, though, your rant about Paris makes a whole lot more sense now."

I wasn't sure whether I should be offended, so I just rolled my eyes again.

"Great. Are we done with the Full House moment now? I left my cell phone here all day, and I need to check my messages."

"He didn't call, Heads."

I hated that I was that transparent.

"What makes you think I wanted him to?"

AJ dipped his chin pointedly in my direction. "I know you weren't lying this morning."

I sighed heavily. Even I know when I've been had.

"Look, it's not that he didn't want to call. He did. I just told him not to."

It sounded fucking pathetic, but I couldn't help asking. "Why would you do that?"

AJ shrugged. "I know I gave you this big speech about being nice to Nick, but...you're special to me, okay? I don't want you hurting him, but I don't want him hurting you either."

"Torn"
performed by Natalie Imbruglia
LEFT OF THE MIDDLE