Nick slowly dressed the next morning. He was attempting to prepare to deliver Aaron's news to his business-minded mother. He took a deep breth and headed downstairs. "Hey, Mom."
"Good morning, son. Thank you for spending time with Aaron last night. He really has missed you."
Nick poured himself a glass of orange juice. "Speaking of Aaron. I need to tell you something, Mom."
"What's that, Nick?"
"Last night Aaron told me that he wasn't having fun anymore."
Mrs.Carter sat down. "What was he referring to?"
"His career. He said he was sick of performing."
"That's not like Aaron. He always so upbeat, but now that I think about it. He has been a bit moody lately."
"Maybe he just needs to
cut back his number of concerts or something," Nick
suggested.
"Or the early morning interviews," she chuckled. "Aaron always has had an issue with early wake ups."
"Maybe," Nick laughed.
"I'll make a point to speak to Aaron today." She smiled. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."
Nick heard BJ holler from upstairs. "Mom, have you seen my red tank top?"
"It's sitting on top of the dryer, dear," her mother answered.
"Thanks," BJ muttered as she ran downstairs and into the laudry room.
Nick excused himself and followed his sister. "Hey, Beej."
"What?" she asked grabbing her shirt.
"Nothing. You okay?"
"Fine. If you'll excuse me, I have to get ready. I'm picking Angel up and we're going shopping."
"Cool."
She headed to her bedroom with Nick on her heels. "Did you want something?"
"Just to ask a question."
BJ entered her room. She stepped in her closet, shutting the door to change. "Ask!"
"Why are you working so hard? And ignoring me?"
BJ opened her door in her tank top and cut offs. "Simple. I have to work twice as hard as you!" She sat on her bed angrily.
"Why?"
"Because my last name is 'Carter'! If I get a job it's because I'm your little sister. And how can I be ignoring you? You're never home!"
"That's not true!"
"Yes, it is!" she belted. BJ stood up yelling. "Do you think girls would like Aaron if he didn't look like you?"
"Sure."
"Fat chance." She stromed down the hall continuing to scream. "And do think anyone would even care about Leslie?"
"Stop it, BJ!"
"No! We have to work harder than you just to prove ourselves! It's about you knew it!"
Leslie stepped into the hall. Tears streaming down her face. She faced them. "Could you stop? Please." She cried harder. "Please."
BJ put on her sunglasses. "I'm going." She headed downstairs. "Nice talking to you, Nick," she hissed.
Nick hugged Leslie as she left. "You okay?"
She shook her head leaning against him. She struggled to catch her breath through tears. "I can't take this anymore!"
Nick stared into her eyes. "What?"
"This! I hate this! I wish I would just die!"
"No, you don't, sweetie. You're just sick and upset."He led her to back to her bedroom. "Come on, you need to lay down, before you get sick again."
"I don't want to lay down," she agrued.
Nick bent down. "Yes, you do. And we need to talk."
They entered her room and he wrapped her under the covers. He gave way to a sad sigh. He hoped that talking to Leslie would get his mind off BJ.