Chapter 1

One very stormy, very nasty Friday afternoon, I was sitting in my bedroom, curled up on my bed, watching one of my many Backstreet Boys movies when the doorbell rang. Since no-one was home, I just let it go, figuring they would go away. Well, about five minutes later, I was sick of hearing the doorbell ring so I looked out the window.

All of a sudden, the power flickered, and one of the neighbor’s trees fell across the street. The guy at the door saw me, and motioned toward the road behind him. There was a big black bus, teetering in the ditch across the street.

I wasn’t sure I really wanted to let this guy in, since no adult was home, and I have been brought up with “never let a stranger into the house when you are home alone” so I did what any other teenager would do. I called my mom. She was on her way home, and would be there in about five minutes. She also told me to let the guy know that she would be home soon, and she would deal with whatever he wanted.

I wrote a note, and slid it under the door to him. It told him what was happening, and about my mom coming home. Figuring that it would either scare him off if he had bad intentions, or be helpful to him. He smiled, and ran off toward the severely damaged bus.

There was something awfully familiar about that smile… I was contemplating why his smile was so familiar, when dad called. He wasn’t coming home on account of the weather being so bad, and I assured him I would tell mom when she came home.

I went to my room, and picked up most of my miscellaneous BSB stuff that’s strewn around, because if there were gonna be people in my house, I didn’t want them to see what a messy person I was. I sat in my bedroom window, and watched as the guy that had been at the door gathered a few people off his bus, and started down my driveway. Mom pulled in a few seconds after they crossed the street, and said that we were stuck on our street for a while, because soon after she crossed the bridge at the beginning of the road, it washed out, and there was no way to get across.

She took one look at the disheveled group headed our way, and began to plan where to put them all to sleep. Now, our house has four bedrooms, but our grandma lives with us, so we have one guest room. (I am an only child by the way). Grandma was on vacation with her little sister (yeah she still calls her “little sis”), so we had four open places to sleep if they weren’t squeamish about sharing a bed. Now, back to what I was saying.

Two of the people were visibly injured. One had what looked like a sprained ankle judging by the way he was limping. The other was passed out, and two more were carrying him. When they entered our garage, I could tell I knew them all from somewhere, but still couldn’t figure it out. There were five guys who couldn’t have been more than 10 or 15 years older than me at the most, and one woman who looked about the right age to be a mom to one of them. We closed the garage door to keep out the rain, and I went to get towels to dry them all off.

When I came back, I was ordered to go get the crutches from the basement, for the limping one. We had them on hand, because my mother had sprained her ankle really bad last summer. I handed them to him, and did a double take. What in the world was Brian Littrell doing in my house??!! I guess he caught the look, and muttered to the guy behind him “oh crap”.

Chapter 2

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