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::chapter 1-is diet ok?::

“Krysti, I’m not so sure about this.”

“What do you mean? You want to meet him don’t you? Come on Symone, this is the best idea I have ever come up with, you have to go through with it.”
Krystin London sat in a hotel room in Daytona Beach, with her best friend Symone Cabrerra. She stood 5’7” and had long blonde hair, and light blue eyes. Symone was completely the opposite as far as colors, with auburn hair, cut short to her shoulders, and dark brown eyes, but had the same height and build as her friend. Both of the girls were average, and if not for their expressiveness, many people might overlook them. But, they were both very outspoken and humorous, and so always had lots of friends, and tons of guys. Both played instruments, and had started a band the previous summer called Asylum Star. Symone was an awesome basketball player, being named best in the league 4 years in a row, and even beating 5 varsity guys in a shoot-out the previous year. She had never lost a one-on-one match with anybody, at least that anyone could recall. While following Nsync on tour through the country on their spring break, Krysti had come up with the ‘brilliant idea’ of writing a letter to Justin, challenging him to a game. Krysti had written the letter to get his attention, and get his male ego stirring, and she hoped it had worked. She had no doubt that her friend could beat him, given the chance, and she knew if Symone got to talk to him, he would fall for her in a second.
“I don’t know Krystin,” said Symone. She was having a few doubts. Like, how she would get her legs to work in the presence of Justin Timberlake.
“Please? This is our only chance to meet them Sym, and if I don’t meet Lance soon, I’m gonna cry.” She stuck out her bottom lip.
Laughing, Symone threw a pillow off her bed, and at Krysti’s head. “Fine, I’ll do it. But, if I lose, I am not speaking to you for…maybe a whole day or two!”
“Great, then I won’t have to pay for your crap for a while!”
“Funny Krysti, really funny. I’m gonna go get a soda, you want?”
“Only if you’re buying.”
“I am, so what do you want?”
“A Diet Coke with a smidgen of Dr. Pepper.”
“Krysti, we are talking hotel vending machine, not Boca. I’ll be right back.”

“Guys, wake up,” the driver, James, said, as he walked into the living quarters. “There is some major construction going on here, and the traffic is moving really slowly. We won’t be making it to West Palm until late anyway, so I just decided to stop for the night. Is that OK with you?”
“Yeah James,” said Chris, yawning, “where are we?”
“Daytona. If we tried a little harder, we could get to Orlando, but I’m pooped, so if you don’t mind, we’ll just stop here.”
“That’s cool, any bed that isn’t on wheels will do for me.” Said JC, as he sat up. They got back on the road and drove for about 15 more minutes before finding a hotel with vacancies. They checked in, and rode the elevator to the 16th floor. They got off, and headed to their rooms. Justin’s was located just across from the ice and vending machines. As he walked to his room, he noticed a girl trying to get a soda out of the machine, but apparently the machine had other intentions.
“Stupid piece of junk, I want my soda!” she screamed, kicking at it, before turning around and squatting down with her back pressed against it.
“Need some help?” Justin said politely, as she looked up.
“The machine ate my money. I guess I got carried away. Sorry if I bothered you.” Her eyes were a deep shade of brown, and Justin could see himself in them. She didn’t seem shocked or surprised that he was talking to her, so he assumed she wasn’t a fan.
“Nah, I just checked in, I hadn’t even gone in yet.” He pointed to the room across the hall, and then at his bag, and she smiled.
“Well, at least I didn’t wake you.”
“Nope, its no big deal. Let me see what I can do about your soda.” He offered her his hand and helped her away from where she sat. With one swift kick to the side of the machine, and then a blow to the front, her soda popped out miraculously. “Here we go. Hope you don’t mind diet.” He handed her the ice-cold can, and she gave him another warm and inviting smile. He had a better chance to look at her now, and she was beautiful. She stood a few inches shorter than he did, and her dark hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a matching shorts and tank top set, with embroidered butterflies on each piece. She was exactly the kind of girl that Justin liked-pretty and feminine. She extended her small hand to him in thanks, and he held it in his for a few seconds before releasing it.
“Thanks a lot. My name is Symone, by the way. Are you staying here long?”
“Just stopped in for the night.”
“Oh cool. So did we actually. Well, we spent the day on the beach, and catching up with some old friends.”
“We?” he said. She looked a little too young to have a boyfriend that her parents let her travel around with.
“My best friend Krysti and I. We’ve been driving all over for our Spring Break.” Symone replied.
“Oh, I see.” He smiled at her, and inwardly that she wasn’t with a guy.
“I don’t think I caught your name.”
“Right, sorry. I’m…”
“Sym, I’m really getting thirsty over here” A pretty blonde girl stuck her head out of a room down the hall.
“Sorry Krys, I’ll be right there.” She turned to look at Justin, and rolled her eyes. “The Boca princess wants her soda, so I guess I better go. Thanks again, you are a real lifesaver. Maybe I’ll see you when we check out in the morning. Later!” She sauntered down the hall and opened the door.

Justin let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “I sure to God hope so.” Then another thought came to his mind. “Did she say Boca? As in Boca Raton?”

Symone opened the door and set the sodas down on the nightstand. “Krysti, the weirdest thing just happened. My money got stuck in the machine and this guy helped me out and he was really cute.”
“That’s weird? Sounds cool to me.” Krysti replied, not taking her eyes off the TV screen, on which a re-run of Dawson’s Creek was just coming back from commercial.
“I didn’t get to the weird part yet, geez! The weird part is, he looked a heck of a lot like Justin,” she replied, exasperated.
“Justin who?”
Symone’s eyes got wide. “What do you mean, ‘Justin who?’ Justin, ‘Mr. Big-Shot Timberlake’-I’ve-got-to-beat-his-ass-at-basketball, Justin!”
“Sym, calm down! You probably just had him on your mind, so any blonde haired, blue eyed hottie, is going to look like Justin.”
Symone sat on her bed. “I guess your right. And, I mean, if it had been him, I would’ve known. I’ve seen them in concert 4 times this week; I should know what he looks like by now. You’re right.”
“When am I ever not? Now go to sleep, I want to get home early tomorrow. I have a lot of preparing and you’ve got a lot of practicing to do.”
“Oh, so now you doubt my skills!” Symone said with a laugh. The last thing she felt was a pillow hitting her face, before she settled back, and fell asleep.

::prolouge::

::chapter 2::

::she got game::

::email:: ::she_got_game33@hotmail.com::