Rebound

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1. If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.

2. I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.

This story has nothing to do with "JC's Hitchhiker", "Brian and Tommy", "Thieves", or "Tangle".

Meeting Justin wasn't on my list of things to do that day, and I can tell you that even if it had been, babysitting him would definitely have been at the bottom, under things like, "Push splinters under my own fingernails" and "Eat dirt". Not that I didn't think he wasn't probably a really nice person, despite his popstar status. I'd met celebrities before, and once you got used to the bodyguards and the people staring at them and the way that they sometimes unconsciously expected things, like people bringing them a drink or giving them free stuff, many of them turned out to be pretty nice underneath. I just didn't really think Justin and I would have all that much in common, and I really didn't want to take the time out of my day to find out if we did.

April, though, had other ideas.

"Chris," she began, breezing through the open front door of the store, a travel bag slung over her shoulder and another one clutched in her hand. I looked up from the counter where I sat, a muffin in front of me next to a steaming cappuccino, and lowered the paper so that I could see her better. As always when I saw those brown eyes, identical to the ones I used to wake up to, I felt a pang go through me, but she never seemed to notice. "I need a favor, a really big one!"

"Good morning, April," I said, grinning as I glanced at the clock. We had been open for less than three minutes. Behind the counter Michelle was setting up the coffee cups for our regulars, and I heard her chuckle a little. "How are you today?"

April skidded to a stop in front of me and blushed sheepishly. She was a sweetheart, if a little absentminded sometimes, and I wondered what the crisis of the day could be. Her outfit, college kid casual, all Gap khaki mixed with Old Navy, didn't offer any clues, although the bags were an interesting twist. I mentally reviewed April's class schedule, and realized she had maybe five minutes with me before she had to bolt out of here to catch the train, if she was planning to make class on time. On the other hand, if she was planning to make it to class, shouldn't she have some books?

"I'm sorry," she said, pausing to take a breath. "Good morning, I'm fine, I love you, please help me."

"What's wrong?" I asked, folding up the newspaper. "Is this an in the back talk?"

In the back talks took place in my office, a tiny cubbyhole off the stockroom. April only asked for an in the back talk if she had something she didn't want the staff to hear. While I considered them to be my little family, that didn't mean they needed to know everything that was going on. If it was something really important, April asked to go upstairs, since I lived above the store, but we usually had those kinds of talks over dinner. She looked around the store, taking in Michelle behind the counter, the first couple of customers coming in, and Pete up on the second level rearranging a display of gardening books near the railing, and nodded at me.

"If you have a minute," she said pensively.

"For you, I always have a minute," I said, leaving the paper on the counter. Someone else would read it. "Let me just get my breakfast."

I followed April around the counter, not needing to lead since she knew the way, and glanced back just to make sure it was a normal morning. If anything had been going on, I might have had second thoughts about ducking into my office, but on a normal day, Michelle could handle the people coming in for coffee, and Pete could back her up if there was a rush. Then again, what the hell was I thinking? While we did a steady business throughout the day, the only time we ever had a rush was at Christmas. While I loved owning the business, a bookstore with a little coffee cafe on the first level, it wasn't the kind of place where things might go wrong or sudden crises might break out. If anything, we might have to special order a book for someone, or, God forbid, we might run out of the biscotti with the chocolate chips in them. It was a fairly drama free environment.

April took the one chair in my tiny office, so I sat on the desk, cup in one hand and plate balanced carefully on my knee.

"What's up?" I asked. She didn't look really fraught or tearful, so I figured it couldn't be emotional trouble.

"OK, you know Derek, the guy I'm dating?" she asked, and I nodded. Derek had been the boyfriend for about three weeks now. "Well, his mom is kind of sick, and he wants to go visit her, and he wants me to go with him, because he thinks I should meet her."

"Do you need some money?" I asked. College kids don't always have a lot. "I can get you a ticket if you need one."

"No, no, that's not it at all," she said, shaking her head. "He wants to leave today."

"And you don't want to miss class?" I asked. She was a good student, and if she told her teachers it was a family emergency, I was sure they would let her out. She didn't have to tell them it wasn't quite her own family.

"No, I'm all caught up," she said, shaking her head again. "It's just that I have a friend coming in from out of town. He called last night, and he's having some problems and wanted to get away from them, so I told him he could come here, but then Derek called this morning, and, you know, it's Derek's mom. I can't just abandon him, but Justin's already on his way."

"Timberlake?" I asked, and she nodded.

April was a communications major, and had done an internship at Jive Records last fall. The work went rather well for her, and somehow she had come out of the whole thing really good friends with Justin Timberlake, the guy from Nsync. The two of them talked on the phone every couple of weeks, and she had gone to the concert with a couple of friends when their group came through town, but I had passed on the offer. I thought their music was ok, if you liked pop, but I had tickets to go to a play the same night. As such, I hadn't met him yet, and I wondered what exactly she was going to ask me to do to bail her out of this.

"See, I know I should have told Derek no, but it's his mom, and I know I should have called Justin, but he's already on his way here," she said, folding her hands in her lap. She looked at me imploringly.

"And what?" I asked. "You want me to shoot his plane down?"

"You're funny," she said, sticking her tongue out at me. "No, I was wondering if, um, maybe you could meet him at the airport, and, you know, entertain him for a few days."

"What?" I asked, chewing thoughtfully on my muffin. "Entertain him how? Take him to the arcade? He's, like, twelve, April."

"He's twenty," she said, giving me sad, puppy dog eyes. "I'm twenty. You entertain me."

"That's different," I said, shaking my head. "I know you. And this is a really busy week for us. We have some woman coming in for a poetry reading and a book signing, and the furniture store is bringing a new couch for the upper level tomorrow."

Oh my God, did that ever sound really lame. I was reaching, and she knew it, but I really didn't want to play babysitter for some bored popstar. Maybe we didn't seem overloaded with work, but I still did have a business to run, and day to day stuff to handle.

"And what? Michelle can't handle that?" April asked, raising an eyebrow. Her facial expressions were so similar to her brother's sometimes it was like looking at a clone. "Pete suddenly became incompetent? Or is it Meg and Julie you don't trust?"

"That's not an important question," I said, dodging. My staff could handle anything short of the store burning down. Some days I felt more like a fixture than a boss. "April, you have a classic problem that girls and guys all over the world deal with all the time. You're double booked. Justin is your friend, and I'm sure he has a cell phone. Call him, explain to him what happened, and he can jet off somewhere else. I'm sure he'll understand. Or you can disappoint the boy you've been dating for three short weeks, instead of putting him above a much longer friendship."

"Thanks for the guilt trip, mom," she said, dropping the wistfully pleading look.

"Your mom probably told you the same thing when you called her, didn't she?" I asked, and the answering frown told me I was right. "So you came over here looking for a better answer?"

"Not exactly," April said, and I knew she was splitting hairs in her head. April always came to me when she couldn't talk to her mother about something, or when her mother gave her an answer she didn't like. She thought for a second, and then continued. "It's not that simple. Justin's got some stuff going on, and he wanted to get away to clear his head. I told him he could come here, because no one would think to look for him in Boston, and that'll give him time to sort stuff out."

"April, he's a millionaire," I pointed out. "He can go lots of places where no one would think to look for him."

"But he won't have friends there," she said, shaking her head.

"He won't have a friend here, either," I pointed out. "You'll be off wherever with Derek and his sick mother."

"But that's why I want you to hang out with him!" she said, as if I had suddenly put everything together. I shook my head.

"No, absolutely not," I said, standing. "I'm not going to be friends with Justin Timberlake just because you're too squeamish to tell him you double booked."

"Why not?" she asked. "Lots of girls, and, you know, guys like you would jump at the chance."

I gave her a withering look, and she had the good sense to squirm uncomfortably in her chair.

"OK, that didn't come out right," she said, looking down. "But why don't you want to do me this one tiny favor? Why are you so against this?"

"I'm not against this," I said, but she was right.

Why was I so against this? April was a good judge of people. If she said he was a nice guy, he probably was, but he was a star. He probably wanted star treatment. Not only that, but she wanted me to entertain him. I didn't want to follow him around like a wannabe, not even as a favor to her, and I certainly didn't want to be responsible for keeping the moody, spoiled popster happy. He could pay people for that.

"Yes, you are," she pointed out.

"April, he's five years younger than me," I pointed out. "We have nothing in common. Even if I did just drop everything here for God knows how long you want me to do this."

"Just a week," she said, and we both knew I was starting to crumble. I really didn't have any good reasons, and she'd keep chipping away at them. "That's all, and then I'll be back, and you can wash your hands of him."

"What am I going to do with him for a week?" I asked. "Take him out dancing? Let him sit around the store?"

"Go do something fun?" she asked. "God forbid you should go out, and enjoy yourself."

"April," I said, planning to cut off this line of discussion. "It's really not a good time of year for me, ok?"

"It's never a good time of year for you," she said, shaking her head. "If I avoided you on all the days when it's not a good time for you, I'd see you about twice a year."

Both of us were quiet for a minute while I decided if I wanted to be mad at that comment or not. She was right, of course, but that could be just as irritating.

"Look, Chris, I'm not trying to get pushy into your life or anything," she said. "I'm not telling you to be his friend, or even to like him. I just want you to keep him distracted for a week, until I get back. He's a nice guy, Chris, and he just needs someone to talk to."

"Yeah, but he's coming here to talk to you," I pointed out. "He wants to see his friend. He doesn't even know me."

"He'll like you," she said, shaking her head. "He likes everybody. And you're good to talk to."

"If he feels like talking to me," I said, waffling a little. She stood up and grabbed my hands.

"Please say you'll do it?" she asked, pouting her lip out. "Please? For me?"

I sighed.

"OK," I said, as she squealed and hugged me. "I'll meet him at the airport, I'll take him to get some dinner, and I'll explain to him why you're not here. I'll ask if he wants to do anything, but really, April, I'm not going to just drop everything here and be his new best friend for a week, ok?"

"I love you!" she said hugging me again. "You're the best almost brother ever."

"Yeah yeah," I said, shaking my head. "You say that now, because I'm doing you a favor."

"It won't be that bad," she said, following me back into the store. "You guys will get along great, I swear."

"I bet," I said, shaking my head. "Despite the fact that I'm half a decade older than him, and we have nothing in common, I bet we'll really just hit it off."

Michelle snickered again, amused, as ever, by the family drama. I handed her my empty cup and plate, and she took them, smiling sweetly while muttering comments about lazy bosses not washing dishes, only half under her breath.

"You're not really that much older than he is," April said, following me around the store as I straightened displays and nodded to customers. "I mean, some of the guys in his band are even older than you are."

"Band implies musician," I said absently, wondering why I had let her talk me into this. Oh, yeah, it was the puppy dog eyes. And was that a crack about my age?

"Singers are musicians," she protested, knowing that I was just needling her now.

"Band at least implies instruments," I said, shaking my head at her.

"I think he plays the guitar," she said, shrugging.

Before I could say anything else, or make any further cracks, the bell above the door jingled, and we looked over to see Derek, all six and a half feet of him, muscling through the doorframe. You had to hand it to April; she had excellent taste in men. He was huge, friendly, and put out this cornfed boy next door sort of aura. He looked back and forth between the two of us, lumbering through the bookstore like he was lost, and I caught Pete watching carefully from above to see if he would collide with anything. Derek seemed like a nice enough guy, but he really looked like he would be more at home on a rack under a pickup truck somewhere, covered in grease and dirt.

"Hey," he said, hugging April. She grunted as he squashed the air out of her lungs.

"Hi, baby," she wheezed. Derek's head swiveled on his thick neck toward me.

"Hi, sir," he said, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Sir". As if I were a fossil already. This was how it was going to go with Justin, too. Anyone over the age of 21 was practically decrepit to these guys.

"Good morning, Derek," I said pleasantly. "Sorry to hear about your mother."

"She'll be ok," he said, shrugging before he broke out into a grin. "And, you know, at least she broke her foot in Florida. It'll be like a little vacation."

"It sure will," I said, turning to April. Florida? She had this adorably stricken busted look on her face. "April?"

"We gotta go," she said, tugging Derek toward the door. She pressed a folded note into my hand as she slid away from me. "His mom could get worse any second now."

"No, the doctor said she's fine," Derek said, just not getting it. "And she got us a room right there on the beach."

"April," I said again, a little more firmly.

"Chris, I love you," she called, jerking Derek out the front door. "I'll call you when I get back, and thanks!"

I shook my head, watching her go, wondering how I could possibly punish her for conning me this badly. I guess I could kind of understand, having been young and impulsive once, too, but she really wasn't being a very good friend to Justin, either, and I didn't really appreciate getting sweet talked into cleaning up her mess. I sat back down at the front counter and unfolded the paper, seeing that she had written down all the flight information for Justin's arrival. Michelle, looking very goth girl chic in her lacy black dress and heavy mascara, walked over as I sat down. She tapped a black lacquered fingernail, filed down to a spadelike point that could probably slice through the back of my hand like a razor, on the counter and glanced down at the paper.

"Watcha lookin' at, boss?" she asked, her black lips curving up in a wry grin.

"A favor for April," I said, folding it back up and tucking it into my pocket. "I promised I'd bail her out."

"Oh, that was you promising?" Michelle asked, straightening the napkin dispenser. "Because it looked like you getting scammed."

"I was not getting scammed," I said defensively. Michelle's carefully plucked eyebrows arched up in amusement, and she leaned over the counter a little, calling up toward Pete.

"Hey Pete, how did that look from the balcony?" she asked loudly. It didn't seem to bother any of the cluster of old ladies at the counter, or the few people wandering the shelves, so I let the noise go.

"Looked like a scam job," Pete called down, grinning, holding a book in each hand. He was looking rather Eddie Bauer today in jeans and plaid. The charm of having Pete work here was that, more or less, he was just a normal college kid. It added balance to the staff.

"Aren't those books set up yet?" I asked sarcastically, glaring up at Pete. I redirected toward Michelle. "And you, isn't there something you could be doing? Ringing somebody up or something?"

"Not really," she said, looking up and down the counter. None of the customers appeared to need any help.

"This place is grossly overstaffed," I grumbled, walking back around the counter and into my office. Picked up the inventory reports from the delivery last night and started reading over them. I looked up as Michelle tapped softly at my doorframe. "Yes?"

"Pete and I are sorry we ragged on you," she said. She acted quickly to make sure I wouldn't think she had a heart, or a soul. She did, after all, have an image as a bitter goth priestess to maintain. "We didn't realize it was your time of the month again."

"Apology accepted," I said, sighing. I looked back down at the sheets in front of me. "Did Meg and Julie unload all of this last night?"

"Some of it's still in the back," she said, pointing toward the storeroom.

"Could you have Pete work on it when he gets done upstairs? I'll help him with it in a second, and soon as I finish looking at these," I said. "And I'm sorry I was snappy, too."

"Shit happens," she said, shrugging, which was at least as good as "Apology accepted." Michelle started to walk back to the front, but my voice stopped her.

"I'm going to be out for a little while right after lunch today," I said, looking at April's folded note again. "Will you guys be ok until I get back?"

"Sure," she answered, shrugging. "Where you going?"

"I have to pick up Justin Timberlake at the airport," I said, waving the note at her. Michelle giggled, but then caught the look on my face.

"Oh, wow, you're not kidding, are you?" she asked, looking rather amused. "I had no idea you were so well connected."

"Neither did I," I said. "I'm doing a favor for April. I think I have to take him to dinner, too."

Michelle looked at me for a second, thinking, but decided to bite back whatever sarcastic comment she was about to make. Both of us knew that any number of people would kill to be doing what I was about to, and wouldn't look at it as an annoying chore, but this just completely wasn't my thing.

"Good luck with that," she said finally, walking back out to the front. "Boy, did you ever get conned."

"I heard that!" I called after her.

"You were supposed to," she said, snickering.

Great. Not only had I let April con me into babysitting her spoiled pop-singing friend for a week so that she could lay on the beach with her hulking mindless Adonis of a boyfriend, but I'd given the entire "Books and Beans" staff endless fodder for mockery. I loved the four of them, but they were coffeehouse kids. They were into emo and angst and girl singers with guitars who didn't shave their underarms or wash their hair. They were most definitely not into falsetto crooning bubblegum pop singers. I was never going to live this one down. I looked up from my desk at the picture on the wall, Matthew and I standing in front of the store on the day we had opened it, three years ago, and sighed.

"Your sister," I said, shaking my head.

April was a nice girl, and she usually meant well, but I couldn't believe that she would just pawn off a friend on me, especially a close friend that she said was "having some problems." Despite that, I tried to make the best of it. I went to the airport with an open mind, getting there a little early even though I knew the plane would probably be late. I had seen Justin on television enough times to figure that I'd be able to pick him out no matter what kind of disguise he was traveling in, but, just in case, I grabbed a box lid before I left and wrote "Justin" on it with a big black marker. Michelle and Pete, ladling out the soup and simple sandwiches we offered for lunch, watched with identical sarcastic expressions, but neither said anything, and I gave them a little wave as I left.

I waited at the gate until the flight was called, and then stood calmly at the end of the runway, off to the side, holding up my little sign. Passengers filed out, not many since it was a small, chartered plane, looking around for family and friends, and then I saw him come down the runway, scanning for April, but finding only me. He was taller than I thought he'd be, actually. I kept thinking of him in my head as this twenty year old kid, but he was at least six feet tall. Casually dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that he seemed to fill out rather well, his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and a baseball cap covered his head. I caught a frown crossing his face as he saw the sign, and he walked over slowly, warily.

"Justin?" I asked, just to make sure.

"Not so loud," he snapped, looking around. His voice sounded a little testy, and I already felt irritated. "Who are you?"

"My name's Chris," I said, holding out my hand. He didn't take it, and I felt even more annoyed. "Look, April asked me to come pick you up, ok?"

"Where's she?" he asked, looking over my shoulder.

"She's not behind me," I answered, stepping aside. He crossed his arms, looking irritated as well. "Look, Justin."

"Will you stop saying my name? Someone could hear you," he snapped, grabbing my arm. He began to pull me along toward the baggage claim, and I wrenched my arm out of his hand. He looked at me like he couldn't believe it as I firmly planted my feet on the carpet, and I wished I could see his eyes behind those stupid opaque glasses. "What?"

"Look, I'm sorry I keep saying your name out loud," I said, not bothering to keep the bite out of my tone. "April didn't really give me a briefing on celebrity handling, so I guess I'm not up on my do's and don't's."

"Well, what did she tell you?" he demanded. "Because she told me she'd be here."

"Well, she's obviously not," I said, watching him fulfill every bad feeling I'd already had about this. He was a spoiled brat, immature and overindulged, and now he was throwing a tantrum because things weren't going his way. "Look, nameless, her boyfriend's mother is sick. She wanted to be here to meet you, but she had to fly out with him to see her, and she asked me to pick you up."

"She didn't say anything about that to me on the phone last night," he said, crossing his arms. I wanted to push him backward down the escalator.

"It just happened this morning," I said. "She's going to be out of town for a couple of days."

"Oh, that's just great!" he said, throwing up his arms and walking away. He turned back around, face twisted in frustration. "What am I supposed to do? Just wait around for her? She said she'd be here to meet me!"

He looked almost like he wanted to cry, and I'd had about enough. Out of deference to April, I gave it one last shot.

"She asked if I would take you to a hotel, and maybe out to dinner, and keep you company," I said carefully, icicles dripping from my mouth.

"That's really nice of her," he sneered. "I don't need a damn babysitter. I needed my friend!"

"Fine," I said, throwing the sign with his name on it at his shoes. "You don't need a babysitter? Guess what? I don't need to babysit you! I told April I'd meet you at your plane, and I have. As far as I'm concerned, my job is done. Welcome to Boston, no name boy. Enjoy your stay."

Fists clenched, I brushed past him, and stalked toward the escalators. He jumped out of my way, standing there with his bag, looking annoyed, confused, and surprised all at once. I wondered if having people tell him "no" was a new experience. As I stepped onto the top stair, I heard him behind me.

"What am I supposed to do now?" he called.

I looked back, not stepping off, watching him slowly disappear as I slid away from him.

"Grab a taxi out front, and go find yourself a hotel," I said. "Beyond that, I don't really care."

"Good!" he snapped defiantly, just before I sank completely out of view. People were staring at the two of us, and he sounded more like a petulant child than ever. "I don't care either!"

I stomped back to my car, certain that I was completely done with him. April was going to get such a piece of my mind when she came back.

To be continued.

Note: I'm pretty busy at work right now, so this story will be posted as I get time to work on it, not my usual every other day pattern. I know this will frustrate some people, but I'll try my best to keep the wait between chapters short.