Re-Match 
by Annie

We played basketball together. I could never quite get the game down, and I wasn't very good. I certainly couldn't ever beat Justin, unless he let me.

He always did.

Our relationship was ideal to everyone who knew about it. It was always assumed that we would stay together, because we were so in love with each other. We were perfect together.

So when we broke up, I can’t say I wasn‘t a little surprised myself. It wasn't a messy break-up. I was thankful for that. To this day, I’m still not even sure why we ended it. I guess at the time it just seemed like the right thing to do. We were being pulled in different directions. Away from each other. Maybe neither of us could stand that. So we broke up and promised to stay close friends with each other.

Of course, that promise didn’t keep as we went our separate ways. I stopped working with *NSYNC and focused more on my own projects. I stopped working with Britney eventually. I made up my excuses, but everyone knew it was because Justin had gone back to dating her. I didn’t want to be around that, I admit it.

I might not have put up a fight when Justin and I broke up, but that didn’t mean that I had ever stopped loving him. And not a day went by where I didn’t think about him and kick myself for letting him go.

We didn’t see each other for three years.

*NSYNC had slowed down a lot, almost to the point where people wondered if they were even going to put out another album. I paid attention to the media surrounding them, of course, and it was the latest news on them that brought me back to see Justin.

He was going to marry Britney.

And I knew that I couldn’t let him.

So I found myself knocking on his door, wondering if he’d changed, if he looked any different, if he’d become even more beautiful in the three years we hadn’t seen each other.

When he opened the door, I literally felt my breath catch in my throat. He’d grown out his curls, and they were dark, natural brown. His face had filled out some, but still had that childlike quality to it. His eyes were still just as deeply and endlessly blue as I could ever remember them being.

"Wade," he breathed, looking at me in almost disbelief.

"Hey," I said with a slight smile.

He looked at me for a moment more before breaking out into a wide grin. "Oh my God, Wade," he said, pulling me into a tight embrace. God, how I missed his arms.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, pulling away.

"Well, I heard you were getting married. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t show up?"

I could see the almost sadness in his eyes, but he kept the smile on his face. "I’m so glad you’re here." He hugged me again and I found myself not wanting him to ever let go.

It was like a dream, staying at Justin’s house. It reminded me of when he and I would stay at my house and write songs together. We’d ride our scooters around, play basketball, and of course, we’d always make love.

And with each moment I spent around him, I missed that more and more. And I wondered if he missed it too. A big part of me hoped that he did.

It was hard, when Britney came over and they acted so lovey-dovey. I tried to ignore her, pretend she wasn’t there, and just focus on Justin. And in doing that, I noticed something.

Sometimes when Justin would give her a compliment, he’d get this hopeful look in his eyes, like he wanted her to smile and tell him how sweet he was. And when she would just brush it off or roll her eyes and say, "Oh Justin." I would watch that look in his eyes fade to disappointment.

I also noticed that he treated her a lot better then she treated him. When she would tease him, he’d just laugh and take it, but when he teased her, she’d get honestly offended and smack him in the arm or tell him to shut up.

And it made me angry.

Because I would never treat Justin like anything but the amazing person that he is. It was like she was holding gold in her hands and thinking it was tin.

I couldn’t let him marry her. I just couldn’t. He didn’t belong with her. She didn’t deserve him.

So I found myself knocking on his bedroom door the day before the wedding, basketball in my hands, wearing a white tank top and red basketball shorts. He opened the door and looked at me for a moment.

"What are you doing?"

"You can’t marry Britney," I blurted out.

He looked confused. "What?"

"You can’t marry her," I said. "Because I know that you’re going to make the biggest mistake of your life if you do. And I also know that deep down, you know it too."

"Wade, what are you-?"

"I’ve loved you since the moment I met you," I cut in. "And that just wont go away. I’ve tried and tried, but I just can’t stop."

"I don’t…Wade, this is the night before my wedding. You wait until now to tell me all this?"

I looked at him, my gaze steady. I wasn’t going to back down. Not from this. Not from him.

"I want to play basketball, you and me, one on one. If I win… you break it off."

"And if I win?" Justin asked, and I could tell he couldn’t believe he was going along with my challenge.

"If you win… I will attend your wedding with a smile, and afterwards… I’ll go. And never bother you again."

Justin looked at the basketball in my hands.

"You’ve never been able to beat me."

I looked him straight in the eye. "If we’re meant to be together, I’ll win."

He nodded, walking past me.

"Lets go."

We stood in his indoor basketball court, facing each other. He checked the ball to me and I looked at the basket, studying it for a moment.

I dribbled the ball a couple times, and when he made a move to take it from me, I turned away from him and ran the ball down to the basket, throwing it up, mentally cheering as it come down through the net.

Going back to our original positions, Justin checked the ball to me again. We were only playing to three. I didn’t think I could actually have a chance to beat him if we went any higher.

Holding the ball as Justin tried to take it from me, I made a move to try and drive it down to the basket, but Justin intercepted it and ran down the court, tossing the ball up, catching it as it came through the hoop.

Checking it to him, I tried to stay calm. I was guarding him, trying to block the ball, but he pulled a double turn on me and once again ran the ball right down into the basket.

I tried not to act like I was worried.

I checked the ball to him again, and he made a fast move down to the basket, and this time I ran after him, determined not to let him win. He shot it and I jumped up, knocking the ball out of it’s path to the basket.

"Nice," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Thanks," I replied, taking my place, waiting for the ball.

He checked it to me, and I knew that if I could just sink this shot, I’d win. And we’d be together again. Pulling my riskiest move, I bounced the ball off to the left side of him and ran, cutting in front of him and right behind the ball, closing my hands around it.

This was it. All I had to do was make the shot. Tossing the ball up, I watched as it rolled on the rim for a few seconds, willing it to go in.

Watching with a sinking heart as it fell off the rim and back down to the floor.

As I took my position in front of Justin, giving him the ball, we looked at each other. I tried to read the expression on his face. The emotion in his eyes. Would he throw the game because he wanted to be with me just as much as I wanted to be with him?

And before I knew what was happening, he shot the ball from where he was standing. Turning, I watched as it sailed through the air, landing perfectly into the basket, the swoosh of the net echoing throughout the room.

I looked at the basket, then the ball, rolling to the side of the court.

I’d lost.

Swallowing, I didn’t even look at Justin as I turned to walk out.

"Wade," he called, and I looked back, biting my lower lip, trying not to let the tears fall, hoping that he was going to tell me to stop. That he loved me.  That I couldn’t go because he couldn’t live without me.

Looking at me sadly, all he said was, "I’m sorry."

With crushing disappointment, I nodded and smiled as best I could, before turning and walking out.

And that’s when I let the tears fall.

True to my word, I planned to show up at Justin’s wedding, a fake smile plastered to my face, and then I would never bother him again.

I was dressed in my nicest suit, hair still the same bleached blonde spikes. I could never bring myself to change it, because Justin had always told me how much he loved my hair.

When I was almost ready to go, someone knocked on my hotel room door.

Checking in the mirror to make sure my tie was straight, I hurried to the door, slightly curious as to who it could be.

And there was Justin, standing there in a gray t-shirt and navy blue track pants, holding a basketball in his hands.

I blinked, not quite sure I believed what I was seeing.

"Justin, what…?"

He smiled slightly and handed me the basketball.

"I want a re-match."