Date: Sun, 7 Nov 1999 16:11:44 EST
From: Faradhi269@aol.com
Subject:For-Justin's-Love-3

*This story is a work of fiction.  If you are underage, Kudos to you.  If
this material offends you, go away you bigot.  This story is not meant to
do anything more than bring entertainment to readers and relief to its
author, so it in no way implies that any of the sexual orientations of its
characters are suspect.  Also, I suppose this story is copywrited.  So, you
can send it to as many people as you choose, as long as I get credit for
it.  The same applies to the other two stories that I have posted in Nifty.
Have a pleasant day.*

	The classes went by much more quickly than I'd originally thought
they would.  I basically kept hearing the music from my dream over and over
again, and it gave me some extra spirit.  I know that it was a dream, but
at least I found someone I could love-for a little while.  Everything was
going well for the week after I got out of the hospital until the Saturday
afterwards.  I went to the chemistry lab in order to perform a lab so that
I wouldn't have to do it during the week.  First, my sample ran out, so I
had to go and get a completely new unknown and perform the experiment over
from the beginning.  If that weren't bad enough, my data was "flawed," and
I lost points, although the TA confirmed that I'd done everything
perfectly.  I couldn't even redo the lab if I'd wanted to, as I had a
limited amount of Sodium Hydroxide left, so I was screwed.
	That, of course, ruined the entire day.  I did not want to go back
and do any more work.  When I got angry, there was no way I'd be able to
concentrate on any form of work.  So instead, I vegetated on the floor for
about an hour, staring at a blank TV, not caring that it wasn't even on.  I
shook myself and looked outside.  It was an absolutely beautiful day
outside, and I knew that I needed to vent my anger at the unfairness of my
situation. -Having a temper sucks sometimes-I thought.  I pulled on my
bright blue gi pants and my tabis, a St. Louis Blues t-shirt.  I reached
into my wardrobe and pulled my black belt out of its hiding place back in
the shadowy corner.  I shoved it and my sai into my duffel bag, grabbed my
CDs and boom box, put on my sunglasses and walked over to the gym for some
practice.
	What I didn't know at the time was that the university was making
its new promotional video and walking around with video cameras in order to
show the benefits of the school.
	I got to the gym, and luckily, the tae kwon do class was just
ending.  The head instructor of the class was something of a friend, even
though he knew that I hate tae kwon do.  "What's up, Ryan?" he asked me,
coming over after I bowed in the doorway as a sign of respect.
	"Not much," I nearly snarled.  "Need to vent."
	"Ah, I see," he stepped back for a minute and glanced at my outfit.
"Interesting," he noticed.
	I glanced down.  Seemed ordinary to me.  Then I remembered that all
his students had plain white cotton pants and shirts.  I shrugged.  "Can I
use the room?"
	"Sure.  I'll be in my office in the back if you need me."
	I nodded and placed my bag on one of the benches next to the glass
widow.  I unzipped it and pulled my belt and sai out.  Then I turned around
and took off my shirt and tied my belt on.  As my back was turned, the
camera crew went downstairs to see the weight room, gymnasium and pool.
	I stretched for fifteen minutes, and then plugged my boom box in.
I slipped my CD with a copy of "Larger than Life" and "Everybody" that I
had burned from my MP3 collection.  The only other songs on it were
"Everybody Dance Now," "I got the Power," "Princes of the Universe," and
"Duel of the Fates" from Star Wars.  I love practicing to fast music-it
keeps the pace fast and furious.  I turned up the volume and began to move
in the only forms that I could remember from the little official training
I'd had.  Then I began to bring the sai into the picture.  I was twirling
them quickly and every time I made a cross block, the sai clanged perfectly
in time with whichever music was on at the time.
	When the CD had finished, I stopped, panting.  "That was pretty
good, Ryan," the instructor told me.  "But you still need some work with
those."
	I nodded, still breathing heavily.  "I know, but when I'm not
actually using them against a sword like I used to, it's not quite as easy
to figure out how I'm gonna block things."
	He thought about that for a minute and then went back into his
office.  He came out with a bokun, a wooden katana that is used for
training.  "Well, let's help out a little.  I know that sai users need to
kick to attack, so go ahead.  I'll be able to take a couple of hits if I
can't block 'em."
	I smiled, truly thankful.  Here was a real opponent I could take my
anger out on without causing much damage.  He stepped into a fighting
stance, and I immediately recognized that he was uncomfortable with the
bokun.  My friend back home was better with it.  I shrugged.  Still.
Practice was practice.  The two of us attacked and countered over and over
again.  Neither of us had been touched, but his bokun was sustaining heavy
damage from my sai.  In our efforts, neither of us realized that the camera
crew had seen us and settled in to watch.  After five more minutes, I was
getting tired, especially in my forearms.  So I used the last thing my
friend Tom had taught me-a disarm.  His bokun went flying out of his grasp
and I performed a jumping spinning side kick to his stomach.  He fell
backwards with an "oomph," but got up quickly.  "Nice kick," he panted as
he stepped cautiously back up to fight.  I dropped the sai, as they made
the battle too unfair and stepped into a tae kwon do fighting stance.  He
came at me with a kick combination that I never even knew existed, and
although I awkwardly blocked the first attack, the other three got through
and hit me.  He had pulled back so that they weren't full power, but they
had still hurt.
	"I told you, I need to work on my blocks," I said, smiling.
	"So you do, so you do."
	"Or maybe it's because tae kwon do's blocks suck!" I emphasized,
trying to get a reaction from him.
	"They suck, huh?"  He came at me in another combination.  But I had
stepped into kumana style karate, which is better defensively.  I actually
blocked most of his attacks, but even more got through.  I was getting a
little sore.
	"Whose blocks suck?" he asked, playfully.
	"You haven't blocked ME yet!" I yelled and charged him with a
flying side kick.  He ducked and came around with a reverse punch, but I
performed a crescent kick to block it outwards and swung the crescent into
another side kick to his chest.  The second I connected, I planted my heel
into his belly and became completely parallel to the ground as I spun my
left heel in a spinning kick to the side of his head.  The kick caught him
by surprise, and we both dropped to the ground.  As one, we brought our
legs back to our heads and kicked out so that we landed standing in a
fighting stance.  In his position, he saw the camera crew and dropped his
guard.  Confused, I turned around, and then blushed brightly.  The whole
thing had been caught on tape!  Quite a small crowd had gathered, watching
us and they all broke into applause.  He smiled, patted me on the back and
told me to hit the showers.  "I think you've vented enough, Ry," he said,
rubbing the side of his sore head.  I laughed.  "Guess so.  Thanks,
Mr. Matthews."
	"No problem, Ryan.  But I really think you should get some
training.  You've got so much potential, and I hate to see it wasted."  I
smiled but declined.  No more classes.  No more tests.  Uh uh.  Not for me.
I grabbed my fallen sai off the mat where I'd thrown them and pulled the CD
and boom box out from the wall.  Everything went into my bag, and I headed
downstairs to take a shower.
	I felt much better after that, and I felt kind of cool to be in the
campus movie.  It was finished by the end of the week and shipped out to
high schools all over the country.
	I had finally settled into the school routine when I got a phone
call from a man in Orlando, Florida.
	"Hello, son.  My name is Jonathan P. Stein, and I have a son who's
interested in attending your university next year.  That's how I saw the
tape which you are, uh, performing in, shall we say."
	"Well, actually, they kind of caught me off guard," I protested
modestly.  I love hearing nice things about myself.  I don't think I do
often enough, though.
	"I called because I thought I'd seen you somewhere before.  Do you
do any acting or modeling or traveling?"
	"Yeah.  All of 'em, when I can get the job.  Not much has come by
recently, although I did have a small bit in a Sears catalogue."
	"That must be where I saw you before!"  He sounded excited.  "You
see, I'm a producer down here, and I was wondering if you'd come down here
and we'll see if we can't get you some jobs!"
	I jumped.  "That'd be so great!" I exclaimed.  "What do you need me
to do?"
	"Just be ready in two weeks.  I'll call and arrange things for
you."
	"Wow.  Sir, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this
opportunity.  Just to get my face out there...you know."
	"Yes, I do.  Good luck, son."  He hung up and I immediately called
my parents.
	"That's great, Ry," my mom told me.  "But you be careful not to
miss too much school.  You can't afford to miss any more.  Not after those
retreats."
	"I know mom, but think of it!  This could be my big chance!"
	"We're rooting for you Ry," my dad informed me.  "Good luck."
	"Thanks dad."  I hung up and actually did my homework with energy
and excitement.  That made it go by so much faster, and I found that I had
time to go and do some exercising.  I roller bladed down to the gym and I
immediately began a toning regimen so that I could tone up a little bit.
Now, I was (and am) forty pounds underweight, but I also couldn't (and
can't) gain muscle mass very easily.  But I could get Bruce-Lee-cut if I
really tried.  So I tried.  I didn't quite accomplish as much in those two
weeks as I wanted, but I did look a little better.
	Sure enough, after two weeks, Mr. Stein called me and told me that
he had arranged for a photographer and there were a few clients who
expressed interest.  Nickelodeon especially seemed interested, and as they
were at Universal Studios, I was to see some producers at Nick first.
	I was so excited.  But I informed him that I had school for two
more weeks before I was done for the semester.  "That'll work out
perfectly," he assured me.  "It'll let me get your face out more.  By the
way, since you model, do you have a portfolio?"
	"Uh, yeah.  I'll send you a couple.  How many you want?"
	"About 200 or so."
	"No problem.  I had 600 copies made, so I'm all set.  I'll
overnight them to you."
	"Great, kid.  Thanks.  Good luck with finals."
	"Thanks a lot.  I'm gonna need it."
	He laughed and hung up.  I called my agent in Atlanta, and they
were more than willing to cover the cost of shipping the pictures to
Orlando.  Then I settled down into my studying routine.  I worked hard on
Chemistry and Spanish, worked out to tone a little bit more, and practiced
with Mr. Matthews almost every day.  But I still managed to get in some
video game playing in the campus arcade, so I was happy with the situation.
	The two weeks passed as only finals can, and I was somewhat pleased
at my performances on my exams.  I informed my parents that I would be a
while coming home from school, as I would be spending some time in Orlando
with some job interviews.
	"But Ryan, where're you going to stay?" my Dad asked.
	"I'm not sure.  I'm positive that Mr. Stein has something set up
for me.  I'll call if there's a problem."
	"All right, Ry.  Have fun."
	I got a letter the next day which had plane tickets attached to it.
"Ryan," it read, "I'm so confident that you're getting a job down here that
I even sprung for the plane tickets!  Enjoy the flight, and someone will be
waiting for you at the airport.  J.P. Stein"
	I checked the tickets.  They were first-class tickets on Delta!  I
drove to the airport and parked in long-term parking.  I went to the flight
desk and somewhat sheepishly asked if I could get the miles put onto my
frequent flyer account.  "Sure," she smiled as she checked the computer.
"No problem Mr. Bono, everything worked out fine.  Enjoy your flight."
	"Thanks."  35 minutes later, I was on a two hour flight (give or
take) to Orlando.  I got to the gate and meandered my way down to the
baggage claim.  The only time I'd ever been to Orlando before was when I
was five.  Disney World was mainly a shopping center with only a couple of
rides.  Epcott Center didn't exist, and neither did Universal Studios.
Bush Gardens was only an animal park and I drove there from Ft. Meyers.
So, I was suitably impressed at the enormous change that I saw.  I looked
down at my outfit, trying to see if it got too messed up.  I had white
pants and a black t-shirt with a yin-yang on it.  A snow-tiger was ripping
through the yin-yang, and the only color on the shirt was the yellow if its
eyes and the red of its mouth.  Over the t-shirt, I was wearing a
black-and-white, nearly transparent striped shirt and hurt your eyes if you
watched it when I moved.  It was ok.  A couple of wrinkles lined the pants
from sitting for so long, but it wasn't damaging.  I got my bags (all
clothes) and looked to see if my ride had arrived.  A man approached me
with two signs.  He was wearing a suit that was almost a tuxedo and
sunglasses.  "Mr.  Bono?" he asked.
	"Yes?"
	"Will you please come with me?"
	"Sure," I hefted my bags and started to follow him.  But he stopped
me and grabbed my suitcases himself.  I let him and followed him to a large
black limousine!  Cool!  I held his signs for him as he put my suitcases
into an enormous trunk.  Holding them, I couldn't help but see who else he
was waiting for.  The first one said "MR. RYAN BONO," in large, bold
letters.  The second sign was more crowded with "Mr. Nick Carter, Mr. Brian
Littrel, Mr. AJ McLean, Mr. Howie Dorough and Mr. Kevin Richardson."  I
nearly dropped the sign; I was so shocked!
	"Uh, sir, would you like to wait in the car?" the driver asked me,
opening the door.
	"No, I'll go with you and see if I can help you locate the others
you're waiting for," I offered magnanimously.  He shrugged and we walked
back into the airport.  He didn't need my help, since the huge crowd of
people gathered rather indicated where the Backstreet Boys were.  I smiled.
This would be cool.  The chauffer and I shoved our way through the crowd,
trying to reach the overwhelmed young men.  I got through the screaming
throng, grabbed a hand and pulled.  Howie D followed me as I gave the girls
a death stare that made most of them back off.  We ran out to the limo and
Howie got in.  I put his suitcase in the trunk and ran in to the airport to
"rescue" another person.  This time, the crowd didn't want to let me
through, after seeing what I did last time.  So, I resorted to physical
violence.  I shoved people as hard as I could out of my way.  One
belligerent person tried to punch me, but I sidestepped it and came across
with a knife-hand strike to the center of his chest.  He fell, and the
crowd got out of my way again.  Without seeing who it was, I grabbed
another hand and yanked him through.  Kevin handed his suitcase to the
chauffer, who was standing helplessly outside the crowd, and ran out to the
limo.  I went back for another person.  This was getting tiresome.  "That
does it," I muttered.  I turned around and went back for my duffel bag,
which I had left inside the limo.  Howie and Kevin jumped back in surprise
when the door opened suddenly and I stuck my head through.  "Sorry," I told
them.  "Just need to get something real quick."  I reached over Kevin's lap
and unzipped my bag.  I pulled out a case that held my sunglasses and my
sai.  I clanged the sai together experimentally.  The black metal rang out.
"These'll work."  I put on the sunglasses and smiled.  "I'll be back," I
told them in a terrible Arnold Schwarzenegger accent.  I closed the door
and went back into the airport.
	"THAT DOES IT PEOPLE!  MOVE!" I thundered.  Almost as one, the
crowd turned to see what the hell this weirdo was doing.  I clanged my sai
together to show people that they were metal and began swinging them in
arcs in front of me.  I didn't slow my motion and began to walk forward at
a steady pace.  People saw the resolve in my face, aided by my sunglasses
and literally melted out of my way.  I stepped into the center.  "If you'll
please follow me," I told them.  They nodded, huddled a little closer and
stepped behind me.  I began swinging the sai in arcs again, and we managed
to make it though the crowd and get to the doors.  At the doors, security
had finally arrived, and they stopped them from following us.  I twirled my
sai so that they rested against my forearms and opened the limousine door
for them.  I also grabbed a couple of bags and the chauffer grabbed the
others and we loaded them into the car quickly.  When he was done, he
opened the door for me.  I thanked him and got in.  Then we drove off.
	"Sorry 'bout that," I quietly told Kevin.  "Would you, uh, mind
handing me that small bag?" I shyly muttered.
	"Sure, man," he replied, handing me my duffel bag.  I began to put
my sai away.  "We owe you.  Security screwed up the flight time, so they
weren't ready for us.  Thanks."
	"Yeah, thanks," Nick and Brian chorused.
	"What's your name?" AJ asked.
	"And what are those things?"  Howie asked at the same time.
	I blushed, embarrassed at all the attention.  "Well, uh, I'm Ryan
and they're called sai," I answered as directly as I could.
	"Huh?" asked Howie.  "Sai?"
	"You know, man," Nick supplied.  "Sai.  Like the ninja turtles."
	"Oh, ok."
	"Thanks again, Ryan," Nick turned at me and smiled.  I could see
how he was considered such a heartthrob.  I lowered my eyes, and felt
really uncomfortable.
	"Don't mention it," I mumbled.
	"Guys, I think Ryan might be a little shy," Brian reasoned.  "Stop
embarrassing him."
	"Shy?" AJ asked incredulously.  "Are you kidding?  Remember what he
did in the airport?  That was not shy!"
	I looked up quickly and looked down again.  "It needed to be done,"
I said almost inaudibly.  "You guys were in trouble.  I was just trying to
help.  Nobody helps people any more."
	I started paying attention to the radio.  "Everything I Do," by
Bryan Adams just finished, and another oldie came on.  Brian leaned over to
change the station, but Nick stopped him.  "I've got an idea," he said with
a wicked grin.  He turned it up and looked at me.  He sang with the music,
drowning out Bette Midler: "Ooh.  Ooh.  It must have been cold there in my
shadow... to never have sunlight on your face... you were content to let me
shine (that's your way)...  you always walked a step behind.  So I was the
one with all the glory... while you were the one with all the strength.  A
beautiful face without a name (for so long)... a beautiful smile to hide
the pain.  Did you ever know that you're my hero?  And everything I would
like to be.  I can fly higher than an eagle... for you are the wind beneath
my wings..." I blushed and squirmed uncomfortably.  Why was he making fun
of me?  I felt so embarrassed and glanced around before hiding my face.
The others were all smiling and laughing.  They thought it was funny.
	"It might have appeared to go unnoticed... but I've got it all here
in my heart... I want you to know, I know the truth ('course I know
it)... I would be nothing without you!  Did you ever know that you're my
hero?  You're everything I wish I could be!  I could fly higher than an
eagle... for you are the wind beneath my wings.  Did I ever tell you you're
my hero?  You're everything, everything I wish I could be...  Oh and I, I
can fly higher than an eagle... for you are the wind beneath my wings.
'Cause you are the wind beneath my wings...oh the wind beneath my wings,
you, you, you.  You are the wind beneath my wings.  Fly, fly, fly
away... you let me fly so high.  Oh you, you, you the wind beneath my
wings...  Oh, you, you, you the wind beneath my wings... fly, fly, so high
against the sky, so high I almost touch the sky...  Thank you, thank you,
thank God for you... the wind beneath my wings."  He laughed gently as he
finished the song, and they all applauded.  I just stared out the window,
trying not to cry.  I knew he meant it well, but it seemed like he was
making fun of me for being uncomfortable with them.  It just didn't seem
fair.  He looked at me blankly, surprised that I didn't have a reaction.
The entire car seemed to sense how uncomfortable I felt, and everything
faded into silence.
	Luckily, the awkward silence didn't last long.  We arrived at
Universal Studios only a few minutes later.  A stout man in a brown suit
came out to meet the limo.  "Hey hey, JP!" AJ called out when he stepped
out of the limo.
	"How are you doing, boys?" JP Stein asked them.
	"We're fine," Kevin responded.
	"How was the flight?"
	"It was normal, but the airport was nuts!" Brian jokingly reported.
	"That's an understatement," Nick glumly added.
	"What's wrong Nick?" JP asked.
	"Nothing," Nick replied.  "Just thinking."
	The guys jumped back.  "Oh God!" called Brian, "Here he goes
again!"  "Duck and cover!" Howie screamed.
	I was smiling as I came out of the limo.
	"Ryan?" he asked.
	"That's me.  Nice to meet you Mr. Stein."  I held out my hand, and
he shook it in a nice, firm grip.
	"Any problems?"
	"None whatsoever," I answered with a straight face.
	The Backstreet Boys snorted and muffled laughter when I said that.
"OK, what happened?" JP wanted to know.
	"Nothing, we just got mobbed at the airport," Kevin said, trying to
calm JP down.  "Ryan helped us out of the mess, that's all."
	"Really?  Hmm..."  he stopped for a second.  "I'm gonna call the
airport security about this one.  Anyway, welcome to Florida, Ryan.  Now
listen you six: the photographer is waiting for the Backstreet Boys and my
clients are waiting for you, Ryan.  You all go change and get ready.  You
have fifteen minutes."
	"Sure thing," Brian said, throwing a salute.  They each grabbed
their bags and meandered into the studio.
	I followed, somewhat hesitantly.  "Uh, Kevin?" I called while I
looked around.
	He stopped and turned.  "What's up?  You l-" a look of
understanding came over his face.  "We're heading to the dressing room.
You can just use ours for now, if that's all right with you.  Follow us."
I smiled, grateful for the help.  I hate not knowing where I'm going.
	I followed them to the dressing room and we entered it.  Their
clothes were waiting for them: outfits very similar to the black clothes
they wear in the "Larger than Life" video.  They put their bags down and
began undressing.  I moved back into the corner and set my suitcase down
and opened it.  "Uh, you guys know what I should wear?"  I asked
uncertainly.  I didn't want to bug them.
	"Where're you going first?" Brian asked, still undressing.
	"I think I've got an interview with Nickelodeon," I replied, taking
off my shirt.
	"Wear something kinda casual," Nick suggested.  "Nice, but not
formal or anything.  Preferably something kids can probably relate with."
	"Oh, OK.  Thanks."  I looked up and saw Nick standing in his
boxers.  My thoughts immediately flew to seeing Justin in the same
scenario.  My dick twitched and I turned away from Nick.  All of the guys
were in a more or less similar situation.  I had to admit that all of them,
Nick and Brain especially, were definitely hot.  I shook my head slightly,
trying to banish such thoughts.  I looked down to find the clothes that I
was going to wear.
	Nick, seeing my reaction, raised a curious eyebrow and looked at
Brian, who shrugged.
	I was oblivious to this, having made a decision and searching
through my overstuffed suitcase.  I finally pulled out a pair of pea green
cargo shorts, my old, battered black Nike tennis shoes and a black t-shirt.
This one had Link from "Legend of Zelda, Ocarina of Time," and the greenish
gold matched the faded green of my shorts perfectly.  I grabbed a black
leather belt to go with the shorts and a maroon short-sleeved button-button
down shirt to wear over it.  I wore the shirt open so the image could still
be seen, and I walked over to the mirror to start toying with my hair.  I
parted it slightly on the right side and pulled the long bangs back behind
my ears.  I leaned in and stared at my green eyes, making sure that I
didn't look too tired or that they didn't give off how much I missed
Justin.  I mean, I barely knew him, but after writing "NSYNC-New- Life," I
almost felt that it had happened.  I sighed.  This was gonna suck: being
without him.
	I wished them luck in their photo shoot and thanked them for the
advice.  Then I stepped outside.  JP was waiting.  "Oh, good.  You found a
dressing room.  Great.  Let's go."  I followed him to an interview.
Apparently, I didn't need to do much.  After asking me to do some quick
comic sketches, I was invited to become a member of the cast of "All That."
I thanked them and they handed me a contract.  I was going to peruse it and
let them know of my decision.  I had three other photo shoots and
interviews that day, each one with a different outfit, so I was frequently
busy changing.  I was always alone, thankfully.  I didn't quite want to see
the others again.  But I remembered Nick standing there in his boxers.  I
twitched again.  Then I couldn't help but put Nick and Justin together and
make comparisons.  Both of them were so hot!  Justin looked slightly larger
than Nick, from what I'd seen, though.  Didn't matter in any way.  After
all, it wasn't like they were gay or even bi, so no shot at little ole me
knowing for certain.
	At the end of the day, I went back to the dressing room to get my
things ready to leave.  The Backstreet Boys were there already, just
finishing their showers.  Most of them were dressed, but Nick had a towel
around his waist and Brian just had his boxers on.  "Hey Ryan," Nick piped
up once he saw me.  "How was the day?"
	"OK, I guess," I replied, tired.  "I don't usually have days like
this, so I guess I just have to adjust.  Oh yeah, did I forget to mention
jet lag?"
	He laughed.  "Yeah, I know what you mean.  It's not too bad, once
you get used to it.  I still need to get used to it, and I've been with the
band for about six years!"
	"Six years?"  I asked incredulously.  "You were 13?  God, that's
young!"
	He shrugged and dropped his towel.  I nearly dropped my jaw to the
floor.  He was perfect!  Fuck me!  I also didn't look at him at all after
that initial glance.  He got dressed and I finished getting my things into
my suitcase.  At that moment, there was a knock on the door.  JP came in
and said, "Ryan, I've got some bad news.  The hotel just called me.  I'm
afraid they got overbooked and I'm going to need a couple of hours to find
you another hotel.  Looks like you're stuck here for a while.  Sorry."
	I sighed as I sat down on one of the couches.  "I knew this was
going too well for something not to go wrong," I moaned.
	Nick put his hand on my shoulder.  "Hey, man cheer up."  He looked
at JP.  "JP, he can stay with me.  If that's all right with you, that is,
Ry," he added.  I looked up in surprise.
	"Really?" JP asked, pleased.  "That would work out great!  You sure
Nick?"
	"Sure!  I've got four brothers and sisters, remember?  We've got
lots of extra guest rooms around the house."
	"That's really nice of you, Nick.  I appreciate it," I told him
quietly.
	He smiled.  "It'll be nice to have a roomie who won't bug the hell
out of me for a change," he grinned wickedly at the others.
	"Go home, Nick," Kevin commanded.  "We've got a three-day break
now.  Enjoy."
	"I will."  He turned to me.  "Ready to go?"  I nodded.  "Then let's
go!"
	The limo ride was fun.  Nick seemed like an excited little boy for
some reason.  But my mind was preoccupied.  Now I'd be stuck with one of
the ultimate temptations I've ever seen.  What luck...