Now We're Grown .

Now We're Grown

It was an age-old story. Really, I have to feel sorry for the poor guy. It’s not his fault all men were created equal. Equally oblivious, that is. Any idiot would have taken a long hard look at the woman the little girl in pigtails and dungarees had become and fallen hopelessly for her. Not that she’s anything hugely special of course; you probably won’t be able to pick her out of a crowd if she isn’t a previous acquaintance of yours. Cute but not a knock out, she’s pretty enough anyway. Dark blonde hair she has to regularly highlight to avoid it looking mousy, brown eyes, and lots of freckles on her nose. More to the point is that little Casey Scott has grown some curves and some breasts and isn’t a little girl any more. A childish streak to her perhaps, particularly when under the influence of the aforementioned poor cursed idiot, but this is a (fairly) mature woman we’re dealing with here.

Yeah, so back to the aforementioned idiot… honestly I feel like smacking him upside his head real hard and asking him how he didn’t notice earlier. However, I don’t need to, Trace is doing a stellar job of that for me. Gotta feel sorry for Trace too, actually: stuck in the middle of not one, not two, but three of his friends - clowns to the left of him, jokers to the right. Well, he did introduce Robert to Justin. And the thing about introducing people to Justin is that they invariably have to be introduced to Casey too. I think I’m probably getting ahead of you here so I’ll do a nice quick recap for you.

Right: two little Tennessee urchins by the names of Justin Timberlake and Trace Ayala. Been friends practically since they were born. Four years later the Scott family moves in next door to the Ayalas and lucky little Trace has a new playmate in a convenient location. Young Justin is infinitely jealous of the new arrival until she asks him to show her how to throw a football because Trace is being mean and won’t teach her but the game looks cool and she watches it on TV. Young kids are fickle that way. The point to this tale is that Justin not only goes on to teach her how to play a variety of sports but becomes best friends with her as well as the young Trace, the three are inseparable even surviving a long division as Justin joins some little music group named *NSYNC and becomes all rich and famous and jet setting.

So the twist to the tale comes when Casey decides that she won’t follow Trace’s lead and become a personal assistant to Justin as an excuse to travel with him, she wants to be one of those “edumacated” women (I added a syllable on purpose, by the way, I’m not illiterate... and you're looking at me funny now so I'll move on). So she goes off to college part time while working in Starbucks – fun job that’s gotta be – and majors in business with the idea that after college she can either hook back up with Justin and Trace and do something useful, or she can go away and be a business manager or something. That’s a solid, sensible plan. Girl has her head screwed on straight.

Unlike Justin. He’s the total idiot. Let me show you what I mean.

***

“Man when is she getting here?” Trace looked at his watch impatiently and tapped his foot annoyingly against the hard floor of the auditorium.

“Dude, relax.” Justin chuckled as he finally waved off the rest of the dancers and could sit down, rehearsal complete. He perched on the edge of the stage, looking at on the thousands of empty plastic seats before him. “They probably just got stuck in traffic.”

“But it’s Casey!” Trace whined as he jogged up the steps to the stage and went to hover over his friend. “I’m bored of your ugly face already and I haven’t seen her in two months.”

“I haven’t seen her in three and I’m not going retarded over it.”

“Who needs to go retarded? You’ve been a moron since birth JT.” A female voice sounded.

A wide smile spread over his face and a look of annoyance over Trace’s as the fresh off a plane from Tennessee Casey came up from behind Justin and so he got his hug in first.

“You didn’t know me then.”

“I have reliable sources.” She riposted. “Man, it’s good to see you!”

“It’s better to see you.” Justin closed her eyes and hugged her a little tighter, his nose scrunching slightly as he recognised the unfamiliar scent of perfume. That wasn't right. Casey never smelled of anything but a little soap or shampoo. “You’re late, Nutcase.”

“Traffic sucked. Ayala, why isn’t your ass over here to see me already?”

“’Cause Timberlake’s hogging ya.” Trace griped muttering and shooting fake glares at Justin’s curly haired head. Then as Justin loosened his grip on the girl he made a big show of pushing him out of the way and flinging his arms around her, lifting her off her feet and making her drop the denim jacket she’d had slung over one arm. This looked a little odd as she was about an inch taller than him. “I am so glad to see you, I have got to take you clubbing.”

“Yeah my flight was great, food was okay but not quite as edible as it should be and I got lucky with the seating, thanks for asking Trace.” That was just the way they were. No formalities or niceties necessary, they just were. They’d been named the Terrible Trio for a reason, and much of it involved the tight links and unbreakable camaraderie between them, not to mention the scary mental connection that bordered on the psychic. A day was too long to go without seeing each other but it could be months and yet it’d be like they were never apart. Yep, it never took more than five minutes for them to start bickering and bitching and bugging the hell out of each other. All with love, of course. “But if we’re talking clubs then you need to take me to one because I need to get drunk off my ass, I haven't been out in forever.”

“No.” Justin stated firmly. “Don’t we remember the last time? I had to fight off at least five different horny bastards.”

“Well the third one was cute, you really didn’t have to fight him off…”

“Casey…” He practically growled, a peeved expression on his face and his eyes glittering strangely dark.

“Yes Dad.” She poked her tongue out at him.

“Umm, Case?”

“Yes Munchkin?”

“When’d you get the tattoo?” Trace asked, staring at the small black symbols at the side of her stomach.

“Didn’t I tell you? Month or so ago. They’re runes, you like?”

“Never knew you had it in you, the way you shrieked like a girl when I got mine.”

“It’s the Jack Daniels label, loser, I was screeching in horror because it’s total tack, not because of the needle.” She thumped his arm playfully which immediately warranted a response and within seconds they were wrestling and Trace was trying to get her in a headlock. Justin was thinking that the question was more why they could see the tattoo in the first place. The girl in skin tight, slightly low cut jeans and a midriff bearing tube top was not his Casey, the one who wore t-shirts and sweaters and who he couldn’t recall ever having shown off her stomach in his entire lifetime. It looked wrong. Not bad, she had the figure to carry it off and everything but it looked wrong and she looked wrong and as he stared at all the skin of shoulders and navel that she was exposing, he frowned fiercely.

***

You see what I mean? It’s obvious ain’t it? Don’t you wanna smack him upside his head too? Or maybe take a hammer to his skull and knock some sense into him? You do, right? It can’t just be me who sees this.

Any two bit Freud wannabe would be able to tell you right now that he’s upset because his status quo has just been rocked. He’s got his little Casey who is his safe little childhood friend who never changes and is there for him to cling to. Except that she does change: she grows into a woman, gets a little confidence, starts showing a little skin and suddenly she’s something altogether more dangerous. If you didn’t get it, she’s a romantic prospect. Because the boy is obviously hot for her but while she’s still dressing like his kindergarten friend in jeans and sweaters, he can play pretend that they’re still young and their feelings and relations with each other are asexual.

Now Trace, much as I like to make jokes about his height, he’s not altogether stupid and he’s known both of these people all his life, so he gets this. Casey, while not getting that Justin’s ass over feet in love with her, gets that he doesn’t like change and is threatened by any boyfriends she might have, because of their long lasting friendship and that he’s always been the only constant man in her life and blah- blah- blah, yadda- yadda- yadda. She’s not as stupid as Justin, just selectively blind. Justin? Well I’ve been calling him dumb ass for a reason you know. He’s taken a trip to that river in Egypt, good old denial. Honestly, he’d defend himself more vehemently against accusations of being in love with Ms. Casey Scott than allegations that he was a crack head. I am not exaggerating here. You may think I am but I’m really, really not. Are you seeing want I mean about wanting to inflict physical violence on the boy? I mean really, he woke up and saw that the girl who’d been by his side since they were four had become a not at all bad looking woman and that she was fun to be around and she made him feel good. And that she was not entirely without sex appeal. He realised that he cared about her in a kind of different way than before. Why is this such a bad, terrible thing that you must pretend isn’t happening at all costs? I mean god, the man is just beyond annoying, he’s a fucking moron. Oops, language, pardon me.

Are you asking where Robert comes into this yet or are you still just sitting there lost and wondering who the hell is this and why the hell is it rambling on and on about these people you never met before? Well it had better be the former because that’s the only question I feel like answering right now. Gotta keep up my mysterious enigmatic vibe, you know. So, Robert is a drinking buddy of Trace’s. You know, they play pool and hang out and catch up on the basics or whatever but best friends for life they ain’t. Except one day there’s a bit of a basketball game going on and Trace invites Robert over to Justin’s house to participate and what happens? Casey shows up, it’s lust at first sight and before you know it we have one seething ball of Timberlake jealousy because Casey and Robert have become a bit of a thing. To this day Robert can’t figure out why Justin was perfectly chatty and friendly to him for the first few hours of their acquaintance but now barely talks to him. Robert’s a little stupid and or blind too, I guess.

But you know, denial is denial and it’s amazing how long people can go along living with being absolutely miserable but refusing to confront the reason why. Honestly, if they’d just pluck up the courage to face their damn demons they’d realise that life doesn’t have to be like that… oh well. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink, you can lead a teetotaller to alcohol but you can’t make them take the shot and you can hit a man in denial over the head with the obvious truth but you can’t make him accept it. People like to gloss over what’s hard and pretend it’s not an issue so they can live with themselves. That would be Timberlake, by the way. In case you didn’t catch on. People also like to see things out of the corner of their eye and know that it’s something they should pay attention to but turn their head away and figure if they can’t see it it’s not there and it must be something else in their line of vision giving them that awful niggling feeling. That would be… actually that’s an interesting one. You gotta wonder how much Robert or Casey was really aware of Justin’s feelings for her.

So anyway, here’s the problem:

***

Trace Ayala was always one for a party. And it was Casey’s birthday so this was an especially big thing. It was the Terrible Trio’s tradition that whoever had a birthday had to be irredeemably trashed by the end of the night. This tradition had begun long before they had been legal to drink. However, this one he had misgivings about. The decorations looked fine, the guest list had been carefully selected and the booze was of fine choice and quality. The problem was that it was Robert Lacey throwing the party, so Justin was automatically miserable and resentful. Trace’s life lately had been spent listening to Justin bitch and moan about Robert and all his alleged flaws and how bad an influence he was on Casey and how he purposely hogged her and left Justin and Trace without any time to spend with her. Trace had appreciated the inclusion of his own name there (afterthought though it may have been) but it grated on his nerves. If Justin wasn't going to face up to his feelings then that was his choice but personally he wished to be left out of it.

The problem had occurred immediately as Casey stepped through the door, looking far hotter than was in her own best interests. She scrubbed up well actually; Trace had been mildly impressed. But observing the silent battle of wills between Justin and Robert for her attention he had noticed nerves on Robert’s part and he was wondering why on earth Robert would be nervous of Justin. Although, having said that, even Trace had been a little surprised at the grinding Justin had instigated with their childhood play buddy on the dance floor. Casey worked well as a dance partner for both Justin and even himself because they could do whatever the hell they wanted without fear of consequences or reprisal because they were all just friends. But still, he didn’t recall ever having seen his much taller and more famous friend up on any girl like that, let alone Casey who he insisted was a sister to him. The slightly drunken Casey appeared not to have noticed but the host was standing back observing and looking a little green around the gills.

So naturally that was the moment to cut the music and call Casey over so he could make a birthday toast. Trace remembered very little of it after except the last part, although he was sure it was something about Casey growing older, wiser and more lovely every year or something stupid like that.

“… she’s a very special woman and I’ve been so lucky to have her in my life.” It was like watching a train wreck once he realised what was happening and looked to the one of his best friends who wasn't the blushing birthday girl and realised that he too had cottoned on.

“Casey, honey, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

***

Okay, you know what, a whole bunch of silly congratulations stuff happens here and everybody congratulates the happy couple because of course she says yes as would any woman when her boyfriend gets on one knee in front of their entire collective friends and family with a nice little diamond ring. Let’s just cut past Justin’s fake congratulations and Trace feeling like shit because he’s stuck in the middle and Casey being too busy playing the blushing bride to notice. Here’s the point.

***

“Dude… it’s like two fucking am, why are you working out?” Trace asked with bleary eyes and a sleepy voice as he folded his arms over his chest and stared at Justin, who was practically smouldering.

“Pent up aggression. If I don’t get it out now I’ll be letting loose at some reporter tomorrow.” He referred to the extensive interviews scheduled for him tomorrow… well, technically that very same day but tomorrow didn’t feel like it had come yet.

“J, you gotta let this go. I know you don’t like the guy but obviously she does and it looks like he’s gonna be sticking around.”

“He’s no good for her.” Justin grimaced angrily as he put down the weights and decided some good old hits to the punch bag would be better for him. He needed something a little more violent. “She gets all flaky and distracted and suddenly she’s an airhead. She never used to blow us off before he showed up.”

Editorial comment: hello, issues much? Dumb ass. Didn’t you notice your eyes ain’t normally green?

“Like you never cancelled on us because Britney or Cameron or whoever showed up.” Trace pointed out in an exasperated fashion.

“Not like this. I always apologised; I always called to say. She just forgets we even exist, never mind she’s supposed to be spending some fucking time with us for once.” There was a particularly resounding thump against the leather and the hinge from which the bag was suspended creaked and wheezed in protest. “And he’s a stupid asshole, what does she see in him? The guy’s dumb as shit, he’s not good enough for her. I mean, come on, she's gonna be Casey Lacey?”

Oh for the love of Christ… oh, sorry, I interrupted again. Excuse me. Forget I spoke.

“And who is good enough for her JT?” Trace finally exploded. “As far as you’re concerned nobody’s ever good enough for her because you think she should be falling at your feet and you’re just pissed because she’s living her life instead of waiting for you to stop acting like a fucking pussy and admit you’re in love with her.”

There was a potent silence from Mr Timberlake as the bag swung slowly to a stop, not meeting any fists.

“Look bro, I am sick to fucking death of listening to you bitch about this when you’re not doing anything to try and fix it. Either you tell her now before she starts planning her dream wedding or you suck it up and get over it and be happy for her. Just stop whining at me about it because I’m done dealing with your shit.”

He stomped back off to bed, leaving a flabbergasted pop star in his wake.

***

Amen to that my little white trash friend. Amen to that.

So, you can imagine that Justin was not particularly helpful about the wedding preparations. I don’t know why the hell you’d bother though because that’s not what happened. Mr Timberlake was suddenly bursting with ideas and suggestions and offering to buy her wedding dress for her if the one she wanted wound up being too expensive. Can’t even begin to tell you how far the editor of the National Enquirer jumped out of his seat when he was offered pictures of Justin Timberlake perusing the Vera Wang collection with a mystery woman who if they’d got a picture of her face they would have realised was his childhood best friend and not the mystery babe the headline proclaimed she was. If you looked at his date book, you’d probably find he’d written more florist and caterer appointments in there than his actual tour dates and promotion schedule.

That’s nice, isn’t it? The innocent bystander is thinking that the girl who is like a sister to him gets married and he selflessly throws himself into helping her out and making it perfect for her despite his dislike of the groom. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! The innocent bystander is an unimaginable idiot who really doesn't get it. This is not him beign selfless and excited for her, this is yet more denial. He’s trying to prove Trace wrong. He thinks that if he helps her get married it shows that he’s not hopelessly in love with her. Yes, Justin, like this humungous obsession you’ve developed is really helping you prove your point there. It’s not healthy.

Although just between you and me, my theory – and this is only a theory – is that part of the reason he’s doing this is to piss Robert off. After all, this is his wedding, isn’t he supposed to be the one making it more perfect than perfect for his bride? And wouldn’t it piss you off if your fiancée’s male best friend, with great emphasis on the male, were playing an unnecessarily large part in planning your nuptials? I mean, Trace answered a few questions on “which flowers do you like better” and was more than happy to drive her to the reception hall to check it out and everything but he was a minor player. Justin… either he’s considering a career change after developing a harboured desire to be a wedding planner or he’s got issues. Don’t think I need to tell you where my bet’s going. If you want odds on the wedding planner thing I’ll give you 1,000 to 1.

Honestly, I find it painful just talking about it. Not to mention…

***

“You’re what?” Casey stared at her best friend of over twenty years in disbelief. “Who?”

“I’m bringing Renee to the wedding. You know, the whole ‘plus guest’ thing?” Justin said in an absent minded tone as he ran his eyes back down the typed guest list. He had to make sure all names were spelt correctly before they went off to the printers to go on the invitations – not that he even knew half the people on this list but he could catch the obvious typos.

“When did you bump into her again?”

WAIT! Sorry, sorry, I need to fill you in on some back-story here because the conversation really doesn’t… Renee is an ex- fling or girlfriend or whatever of Justin’s who became ex because there was an incident where she may or may not have been trying to seduce a stagehand and they had a fairly nuclear fight about it. Personally I think she was trying to seduce said stagehand and he wasn't putting up much of a fight. But anyway, Casey hates her because not only did she screw one of her best friends over, but she also spent her short tenure with Justin being a bitch to Casey every time his back was turned. She felt threatened. Okay, sorry, continue…

“I didn’t bump into her I called her.”

“Why?” She ran a slightly shaky hand through her hair, not believing what she was hearing.

“I was bored, wanted to have some fun.” He took a pen and rewrote the name Harless on the paper. He couldn’t believe of all names she’d spelt his mom’s surname wrong.

“Well I hope you’re having some fun. But yeah, that’s cool.” She stood up. “I gotta go grab the table plan, be right back.”

***

Ahh this boy pisses me off so much he’s messing up my usually impeccable narration. To fill in those gaping gaps between the lines, when he’s talking ‘fun’ with a girl like that, he’s talking horizontal mambo kind of fun and Casey knows it and thought better of him. Plus, Justin while oblivious at the time is now fully aware that the two women completely hate each other. Honestly, every time I think he cannot sink any lower or become any more of an ass, he just has to go and outdo himself. It’s a thing with him; he always has to take it one level further with whatever he’s doing. See that’s all very well and good with music or touring or whatever but when it’s being a moronic, blind, jerk of a man? It’s really not that great. See, after all my bitching and complaining about him not ‘fessing up and being a man about the whole thing, the biggest problem comes when he goes and decides that he loves her too much and needs to tell her. Great, I hear you cry. Finally he’s going to swallow his pride and tell her how he feels.

Yeah, that’s great. But of all the freaking times to pick, he decides half an hour before the goddamn wedding?

***

“What are you gonna do?” Trace was yelling his head off with every decibel of volume he could use and still remain unheard by any of the wedding guests a hundred yards or so away. “Stand up and say you got a reason they should not be wed or whatever?”

“Please, like I’d do anything that public. Unless I really had to.” Justin protested, sniffing in distaste.

“Oh but it’s okay to ruin her fucking WEDDING if you can do it privately.”

“I have to tell her, Trace. I don’t know what I’m gonna do but he’s all wrong for her and I can’t let her…”

“Oh don’t pull that selfless crap with me man.” Trace hissed, placing both hands on Justin’s very expensive suit jacket and shoving him backwards a couple of steps, absolute fury taking hold of him. “You want her and you just can’t stand not getting the girl for once because you’re Justin Timberlake and rich and famous and shit.”

“That’s not true!” Came the indignant and similarly violent response as Trace nearly fell on his rear end with the forceful push. “I don’t even care if she says no so long as she doesn’t marry that creep.”

“So you can have another chance to work on her! I’m telling you man, she loves him and she’s getting married and if you even try to ruin this for her I can guarantee you that not only will she never speak to you again, I’ll be taking her side and I’ll be telling you to go fuck yourself too.” He took a deep breath and the flow of oxygen to his brain helped calm him a little as he looked at Justin with more sympathetic eyes. “Dude… I know you care about her but if you care about her enough you’ll leave her to make her own choice. If you love her that much you want her to be happy.”

Justin remained silent but merely turned away from Trace and headed back to the slowly growing number of guests milling outside the church. Shaking his head, the abandoned Mr Ayala gave up and…

You know what, I’m gonna use my narrator privileges and skip past the rest of it. Lots of handshakes and ‘how are you’ and small talk about what a handsome couple Robert and Casey make, it’s all very boring and irrelevant. So here comes the bride…

Justin seriously could not breathe as he stood up, with Trace on one side of him nearest the aisle, and his mom and Paul to his left. He had at least thought better of bringing Renee to the ceremony. The wedding march had begun and Casey had appeared, a surprisingly calm and serene expression falling over her face. He’d expected her to look nervous as hell, she certainly had been last night when he and Trace had gone over to her house for her last night of being a whatever the female version of a bachelor was. They’d crashed the girly night because according to Casey just as she was a honorary guy at all their functions, they were honorary girls for hers, although Trace had complained she made them sound totally gay with that explanation. She looked beautiful in her strapless bodice and the yards of flowing skirt, walking down the aisle past cooing guests and huge floral arrangements of roses and lilies. It was totally Casey, very simple but very feminine – as the new her had turned out to be, when Justin had turned his back and failed to notice she was becoming a woman instead of his childhood playtime buddy. He still remembered her saying that boys had too many cooties for her to ever get married.

Trace, next to him, was waiting for the worst. He was afraid that the “unless I really have to” was about to come into play. Justin had been looking stony faced ever since they’d taken their seats and he recognised the expression. It was one he knew well from their various trouble making exploits. It was sheer determination. Casey reached Robert, her father gave her away and the preacher gave a quick recital of an appropriate Bible passage.

“If any one has any just cause that these two people should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Trace visibly winced and shut his eyes, just waiting for the worst. Sheer dread filled him as he felt Justin begin to shift next to him. The seconds passed in a terrible slow motion, lasting on and on and on with… nothing. He opened his eyes in surprise and looked to his left, only to see Justin with his lip bitten and his head bowed, obviously not planning on wrecking the wedding after all. He silently breathed a little sigh of relief.

“In which case, I shall continue on with the ceremony.”

So maybe Justin actually took Trace’s words to heart and realised that he couldn’t cause a public spectacle of himself – but more importantly a spectacle of the woman who had been his best friend for two decades – on her wedding day. He’d left it too long, too late, and he needed to keep quiet. I have to say, for all the moaning and griping I’ve been doing about the way he’s handled himself through the whole thing, at least he stepped up and acted like a man when it counted, and decided to behave like a grown up before he did any lasting and or public damage. Good for him. Dare I say…? I’m actually proud of him.

But then sometimes life just throws you a curveball.

“Wait.”

He-he… I know what you’re thinking, that I spoke to soon… but no it’s not Justin… oh, sorry, you’re probably yelling me to get out of the way so you can see what’s going on, the big dramatic moment I’m sorry, I… oh, wait, rambling and prolonging, on with the show!

“Casey?” Robert stared at his bride in utter confusion and a small amount of horror.

“Uhh… yes child?” The preacher, an old friend of the Scott family, asked her with no small amount of surprise.

“I can’t do this.” She croaked out in a tiny voice as tears filled her eyes, unable to believe that she had been about to get married and now she was doing this.

“What? Why?” Robert’s voice got a lot louder than he’d meant it too and the congregation who had been struggling to hear certainly got the gist of it now. Lynn Harless had actually grabbed at her son’s arm in shock. Her son was just sitting rigid, unable to believe what he was hearing and wondering if he had somehow psychically made Casey stop the ceremony. Trace was sitting the other side of Justin thinking that he really should have showed more judgment in his choice of friends when he was younger because the two he had were going to drive him into a very early grave.

“I’m not in love with you.” Tears streamed down Casey’s face. “I love you but I’m not in love with… I’m so sorry Rob.” In true movie style she turned and ran out of the church.

Somehow Justin had managed to stand up, jump over Trace and run out after her within the space of three seconds, although Trace was hot on his heels.

***

You know, I could be such a killjoy and just stop right here and tell you that what happened next is another story for another day. Yeah, even I’m not that cruel. And when even I’m not evil enough to do something, you know it would be a seriously diabolical, wicked thing to do. So I’ll tell ya.

Justin has the bright idea of commandeering the bride and groom’s limo before anybody gets out of the church (because right now Casey’s sobbing and hysterical and doesn’t want to face anybody) and the three jump in and make their getaway. Justin might I add is being remarkably restrained and sensitive for once in his life and realised that while he’s having a not minor happy that she’s ditched Robert, this is not the time to be declaring his love. So Trace and Justin are really good and they grab some stuff from her house and Justin generously pays for a hotel suite for the three of them so they can hide for a few days. They made quite a sight drinking from the mini bar I can tell you – tuxedo jackets and bow ties discarded and shirts now hanging out with loose cuffs and collars and a girl in a Vera Wang wedding gown with mascara screaming down her face.

Upshot is, Casey had been having doubts for a long time but was too overwhelmed by the wedding plans rolling along and the inertia of it all and had kept quiet until she got to the altar and realised that this was before God and that this was legal. That blank face Justin noticed? That was a serious disguise for sheer terror. She couldn’t look happy but she could look normal rather than completely hysterical with fear. So, she realises she can’t marry him, that he’s a lovely man but he’s not the one and blah, blah, blah, you don’t care about any of this do you? Nope. You all want to know if Timberlake gets the girl.

That’s a story for another day. Maybe I’ll tell it to you sometime.

Ha-ha, just kidding. I told you the guy was a chicken. He didn’t tell her. She remained completely oblivious, they both dated around (once Casey had got over the fact that she destroyed her own wedding and that Robert and his family were extremely angry and her own parents were thrown for a loop, etc). There was a very drunk kiss one night but quite frankly I think the mood died for Justin after she asked him whether it was him or Trace because he was blurry. And it was more of a sloppy peck on the lips than anything seriously lustful or romantic. Poor little lamb isn’t feeling anything but platonic vibes from her, so he’s not speaking up. So they’re just trundling along as ever they were, except that Justin has now at least accepted his feelings for her and has started treating her a little more like she’s female. Trace, now there is no fiancé on the scene, is trying to encourage Justin to say something, especially seeing as he’s heard Casey on a few occasions say stuff like “Justin’s really hot but I’ve known him forever and I’ve seen him wasted” and “I think Justin’s a great catch”. Being a man he has to read all kind of innuendo into that, namely that Casey wants to jump Justin’s bones. Does Casey want to jump Justin’s bones? Well, she…

You know what? Now I think about it, I’ve been telling the guys’ story here. I’ve been telling you what an ass Justin has been and how long suffering Trace has had to deal with the fallout, mentioning Ms Scott only when it’s been necessary to explain her ignorance of the situation in order to understand Justin’s own actions in a wider context. Man, sounds like some English Literature essay when I put it like that: yuck, yick and yuck. But I think her own thoughts and feelings while all this was going on and her perception of events really deserves a little more attention than that. You should read her diary – that really is a whole other story. And maybe I’ll tell it to you sometime, see if I can procure that little book... but not today.

And I mean it this time.