“Jeez, I am pooped!” I exclaimed as we rushed out of the Jeep and into the air conditioned house. “Aahhhh...this is the life!” I said.

“Yeah...I guess.” Sophie said, sounding a little pre-occupied.

“Anything wrong?” I asked her.

“Nah, not really.” We walked up into the living room. I plopped down on the bean bag, which was cold. I moaned. She laughed. She came over to me and sat next to me. I kissed her on the cheek, and then the mouth. We had a little kiss-fest. I was in the middle of a kiss when she stopped, and pushed me away.

“What?” I whispered.

“Shh...I think I here them.” She whispered back. Them was her siblings. They always snuck up on us.

I tiptoed to the door and reached out and growled. My outstretched arms reached 6-year-old Kathy. She squealed. I tickled her in the stomach and laughed along with her. Soon, Sophie had picked up Kathy, and swung her around.

“Now don’t come back and bother me and Justin. You know better than that!” She mock-scolded.

“Yes, Sophie-boogie-woogie-jiligaligi.” She said solemnly. She walked down the stairs. Me and Sophie heard choruses of “What were they doing?” and “No way! Justin wasn’t naked!”

            “See how crazy these kids are?” Sophie asked me.

            “Oh yeah. I mean, Kathy, thought I was...” I started to laugh, and I couldn’t stop. “N...Na...nak..naked!” I spat out. We burst out into a fit of giggles. This was the way it was supposed to be. Always.

That night, Justin slept at my house. Since my bed was huge, a king-sized, he slept next to me. Right at dinner when Mom said he could sleep in my room, I felt my siblings start to whisper. We all knew what they were whispering about.

            Of course, Justin made comedy out of the situation. “What? Do I have hair on my chin? What?? Do I have spinach on my nose? Tell me, now. Or...Kathy will die!” He screeched. They all giggled.

“Well, actually, you have a pimple on the tip of you nose...” Kelli said.

“No way! Only girls have pimples!” Justin said, mock-disgusted. We all laughed.

            About five minutes past eight, we wrapped up dinner. “That was de-e-licious, Ms. Jones, as always,” Justin complimented my mother.

“Thanks. I try.” She laughed. “And I thought I told you to call me Anna!” She scolded him.

“Oh. Whoops! I forget a lot of things when I’m around your daughter!” He said. I laughed and hit him in the shoulder. “What?? I was complimenting you, babe!!” he said in a fake British accent. I laughed once again.

            “So, nothing that is really outstanding for me, I guess.” Justin said. He yawned. We had all gotten into bed. I was in my new silk jammies, and Justin in some boxers and a North Carolina basketball jersey. We were in my covers, facing each other. Justin’s arm was on me so that his fingertips brushed the part of my back that was bare from the tank-top part of the jammies. It tickled.

“Oh well, I mean, everything you do is great.” I answered quietly.

“Yeah. I just—feel bad, I guess—about...” he started.

“Thursday?” I asked him. He nodded.

“ I mean, I was really grumpy, and I didn’t want to let the fans down, and then I remembered they spent all that money, just to see us for an hour. And then I was really mad at myself.” He sighed.

“Aww, Hun, it’s totally fine!” I said. He grazed his fingers around my back, giving me the chills.

            “Oww.” I said as he pressed on one of my knots.

“Hurts?” He said. I nodded. “You have a knot. But Mr. T is here! Have no fear!” he said. We chuckled lightly. “Turn around.” He said. I turned so that my back was to his face. He pressed and kneaded his hands into my back. I moaned. “Ahh. That feels soo heavanly!” I exclaimed.

After awhile, I felt his hand stop. I turned to see that he was fast asleep, his arms around me.