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With Gerard back in our lives, everything went back to the way we thought it was supposed to be. I can't say "normal" -- after all, Holly and I still had a comatose mother and an incarcerated father, not to mention a dead grandmother and a social worker we'd known longer than our oldest friend. The Gray twins would never be normal, no, but every once in a while we slipped up and found ourselves feeling something akin to happiness, even tranquility. My private ambivalence aside, things were peaceful. Holly, Gerard and I were seven years old again and inseparable, spending every daylit minute of the summer laughing and playing together.

But I'd be lying if I said that our little paradise lasted forever -- and besides, that would be a pretty lame end to the story, right? At least this time, when things changed, they seemed to change for the better. Holly and Gerard entered seventh grade as an official couple -- or, at least, as much of one as people can be in the seventh grade. I'm not quite sure when it happened; one day, I guess, I blinked or turned my head or took a nap, and when I woke up, it was a done deal.

But, I don't want to give the impression that I was jealous or resentful -- after all, it was my idea in some sick, masochistic way. For lack of any other acceptable routes, I was happy with denying myself and playing the third wheel -- in public, anyway. Gerard was still our oldest friend, loyal to us both, and he understood that second place was all he would get from either of us. I think he was just happy to have a place on the dais.

I spent the first week of school watching the reactions of everyone around us. Holly and Gerard were a novelty for quite some time, and the show was better than anything on television. We had known a handful of our classmates since kindergarten, and they seemed to occupy themselves with wondering how Gerard had picked one sister over the other, and whether I would find myself a boyfriend now. Most of the others, though, Holly and I had just met the year before, when we entered middle school. I didn't realize the Gray Sisters had any kind of reputation among them, but they seemed genuinely shocked that either of us could get snatched up over the summer. Serves us right, for thinking we didn't need any more friends than we already had -- or, rather, not wanting to subject anyone else to our turbulent lives.

Whatever. Gerard was happy that he didn't have to hide from his feelings anymore, and I was happy that mine had another obstacle in their way. Every once in a while, I thought I saw Holly regard me with some distant kind of sadness, but I chalked it up to my mind juxtaposing my own emotions onto her; she seemed happy enough that our lives were finally on the right track, and the better part of me was in agreement.

In retrospect, I shouldn't have trusted my own schemes so implicitly; it was my Nana's business to set things in their proper place and that legacy, that heritage, had thinned through two generations. I'd exercised my influence to make Gerard and Holly happy, but it wasn't in my power to make them gullible. It was a few years later -- actually, the night of our Junior Prom -- when Gerard finally mustered up his courage and tracked me down to call me on my shit.

I had snuck out of the school's gymnasium, hiked up to the football field, and lit a cigarette on the bleachers. A few minutes later, I heard the predictable footsteps coming up behind me -- expecting Holly, I turned and found Gerard, instead. "When did you start smoking?" he asked, climbing up to sit beside me.

"I don't know." I shrugged, tossed the smoke out onto the grass. "A year ago?"

He nodded, regarded me for a moment before turning to stare out at the floodlit field. "You know, you left your date high and dry back there."

"So did you, by the looks of it." I laughed. "Hey, when did you start smoking?"

The bastard had swiped my pack and lit himself up. He shrugged, winked at me. "I don't know, a year ago? Don't tell Holly, hey?"

"She probably already knows," I said. "It only took her two weeks to start bitching me out. Whatever."

"Whatever," he echoed. "No, you know what? I think we've been saying 'whatever' way too long now." He stared at me for a long moment, took a heavy drag from his cigarette, leaned back on the heels of his palms. "You remember when we were kids, before you went to live with your grandmother?" I nodded, hesitant, not quite sure where he was going with this. "Our parents used to get together for these ridiculous playdates, or whatever, actually thinking that we had fun together."

I frowned. "We did have fun together, didn't we?"

"Holly and I had fun together. You and Holly had fun together. but I think our parents spent so much time ignoring us that we learned to ignore ourselves. Still, it doesn't change the fact that you hated me."

"What?" I was stunned. "Where the Hell did you get the idea that I hated you?"

Gerard shrugged. "The way you looked at me. The you've been looking at me, for the past four years, the past ten years. I feel like any minute you might lunge and stab me with the crayon Amylynn stole from you in kindergarten."

What. The. Hell?

"I'm sorry, that was low. She asked me not to tell you she told me about that. But, still..."

I sighed into my hands, shook my head. "I don't hate you, Gerard -- believe it or not, you're my best friend. You've done more for me than you know. I guess I resent you, sometimes, but it comes and goes. I resent myself more, trust me."

"If you resent me that much, why do you even bother to tolerate me?" He stood, then, stretched his legs. I lit us both another cigarette as he sat down. "Why would you set me up with Holly -- and I know that was you, too -- why would you go through all of this trouble, when you could have just been rid of me four years ago?" He had shocked me into silence; if I had known he felt anything like this ... actually, I had no idea what I would have done. Still, though. Gerard, beside me, sighed. "I love her now, you know. I could have gotten over it, back then. But I'm really, really in love with her. I'm not walking away from this." The resolve in his voice snapped me back to reality.

"I know," I said, "I love her, too. That's why I need to make sure she's happy -- with you." In a flash, I realized that I had made a choice, before I'd even known there was a decision to be made. Quietly, I watched Gerard for a reaction.

"But why me? I know you care about her, but--"

"No. Gerard. I love her. The same way you do. And maybe I've always resented you for taking her away from me, but I've also always been thankful to you for keeping her from me. And it had to be you, because you're the only other person I could trust to care more about Holly than yourself, to give her the love you and I both know she deserves."

It took the boy a moment, but his eyes eventually glazed over with horror-stricken understanding. He stood up again, and started pacing along the top row of the bleachers. "Jesus Christ on a bicycle, Hannah, do you even understand what you're saying to me right now?"

I glared daggers into him. "Yeah, actually, I do."

"What, and you expected me to understand, or something? You need a therapist, Hannah. And that's just to start."

I laughed. "I've been to three, if you remember. And maybe I did kind of hope you'd understand a little. I sort of had this misconception that we were friends -- forgive me if I was wrong."

"Well, for starters, friends don't fall in love with their friends' girlfriend, to say nothing of that girlfriend being the first friend's God-damn sister." He stopped pacing, turned on his heel to eye me suspiciously. "Please tell me you two never--"

I turned my head away, tugged at the cuff of my jacket. "Not that it's any of your business, but no, you don't need to worry about that." I turned back, returning his glare, raised my eyebrows in a challenge. "And technically, I fell in love with her first."

That, finally, broke him. Gerard roared -- with laughter. Once he managed to calm himself down, he took his seat back and looked at me so intensely I wondered if I'd missed a challenge to a staring contest. Finally, he asked, "How long?"

I shrugged. "Nana was still alive." It was hard to pinpoint an exact date. Gerard nodded.

"So, you hooked me up with Holly just to keep yourself away from her? You know, yours is the only life twisted enough for any of this to happen. I nodded my agreement to both statements, staring out into the night, unsure even of what I was thinking; which was okay, I guess, because Gerard seemed to be thinking enough for the both of us. "That said," he muttered, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "if you ever love anyone else, half as much as you'd have to love Holly to do this, they'll be the luckiest person on Earth. I mean, if I wasn't dating her--"

"Stop, Gerard, please."

"--If I wasn't dating her, I might actually be sincere when I tell you it's not fair to either of you. But I am dating her, so nyah. God may be a bastard, but he's got my back here." We laughed together, then climbed down the bleachers to head back to the party. "And I didn't really mean what I said about the crayon."

I smiled up at Gerard, just a little impish. "No, you were right. I do hate you." I paused, waiting for his eyebrows to knit together in confusion before I continued: "At least, I hate that you look so good in this suit. Your prom photos will look so much better than mine."

Gerard threw his head back with a deep laugh. "That's a load of bull shit, but thanks for the compliment. Do you even know how many people would give their right leg to steal your date tonight, Hannah?"

I smiled. "Well, they wouldn't be very good dancers, then, would they?"

Description
With Gerard back in our lives, everything went back to the way we thought it was supposed to be. I can't say "normal" -- after all, Holly and I still had a comatose mother and an incarcerated father, not to mention a dead grandmother and a social worker we'd known longer than our oldest friend. The Gray twins would never be normal, no, but every once in a while we slipped up and found ourselves feeling something akin to happiness, even tranquility. My private ambivalence aside, things were peaceful. Holly, Gerard and I were seven years old again and inseparable, spending every daylit minute of the summer laughing and playing together.

But I'd be lying if I said that our little paradise lasted forever -- and besides, that would be a pretty lame end to the story, right? At least this time, when things changed, they seemed to change for the better. Holly and Gerard entered seventh grade as an official couple -- or, at least, as much of one as people can be in the seventh grade. I'm not quite sure when it happened; one day, I guess, I blinked or turned my head or took a nap, and when I woke up, it was a done deal.

But, I don't want to give the impression that I was jealous or resentful -- after all, it was my idea in some sick, masochistic way. For lack of any other acceptable routes, I was happy with denying myself and playing the third wheel -- in public, anyway. Gerard was still our oldest friend, loyal to us both, and he understood that second place was all he would get from either of us. I think he was just happy to have a place on the dais.

I spent the first week of school watching the reactions of everyone around us. Holly and Gerard were a novelty for quite some time, and the show was better than anything on television. We had known a handful of our classmates since kindergarten, and they seemed to occupy themselves with wondering how Gerard had picked one sister over the other, and whether I would find myself a boyfriend now. Most of the others, though, Holly and I had just met the year before, when we entered middle school. I didn't realize the Gray Sisters had any kind of reputation among them, but they seemed genuinely shocked that either of us could get snatched up over the summer. Serves us right, for thinking we didn't need any more friends than we already had -- or, rather, not wanting to subject anyone else to our turbulent lives.

Whatever. Gerard was happy that he didn't have to hide from his feelings anymore, and I was happy that mine had another obstacle in their way. Every once in a while, I thought I saw Holly regard me with some distant kind of sadness, but I chalked it up to my mind juxtaposing my own emotions onto her; she seemed happy enough that our lives were finally on the right track, and the better part of me was in agreement.

In retrospect, I shouldn't have trusted my own schemes so implicitly; it was my Nana's business to set things in their proper place and that legacy, that heritage, had thinned through two generations. I'd exercised my influence to make Gerard and Holly happy, but it wasn't in my power to make them gullible. It was a few years later -- actually, the night of our Junior Prom -- when Gerard finally mustered up his courage and tracked me down to call me on my shit.

I had snuck out of the school's gymnasium, hiked up to the football field, and lit a cigarette on the bleachers. A few minutes later, I heard the predictable footsteps coming up behind me -- expecting Holly, I turned and found Gerard, instead. "When did you start smoking?" he asked, climbing up to sit beside me.

"I don't know." I shrugged, tossed the smoke out onto the grass. "A year ago?"

He nodded, regarded me for a moment before turning to stare out at the floodlit field. "You know, you left your date high and dry back there."

"So did you, by the looks of it." I laughed. "Hey, when did you start smoking?"

The bastard had swiped my pack and lit himself up. He shrugged, winked at me. "I don't know, a year ago? Don't tell Holly, hey?"

"She probably already knows," I said. "It only took her two weeks to start bitching me out. Whatever."

"Whatever," he echoed. "No, you know what? I think we've been saying 'whatever' way too long now." He stared at me for a long moment, took a heavy drag from his cigarette, leaned back on the heels of his palms. "You remember when we were kids, before you went to live with your grandmother?" I nodded, hesitant, not quite sure where he was going with this. "Our parents used to get together for these ridiculous playdates, or whatever, actually thinking that we had fun together."

I frowned. "We did have fun together, didn't we?"

"Holly and I had fun together. You and Holly had fun together. but I think our parents spent so much time ignoring us that we learned to ignore ourselves. Still, it doesn't change the fact that you hated me."

"What?" I was stunned. "Where the Hell did you get the idea that I hated you?"

Gerard shrugged. "The way you looked at me. The you've been looking at me, for the past four years, the past ten years. I feel like any minute you might lunge and stab me with the crayon Amylynn stole from you in kindergarten."

What. The. Hell?

"I'm sorry, that was low. She asked me not to tell you she told me about that. But, still..."

I sighed into my hands, shook my head. "I don't hate you, Gerard -- believe it or not, you're my best friend. You've done more for me than you know. I guess I resent you, sometimes, but it comes and goes. I resent myself more, trust me."

"If you resent me that much, why do you even bother to tolerate me?" He stood, then, stretched his legs. I lit us both another cigarette as he sat down. "Why would you set me up with Holly -- and I know that was you, too -- why would you go through all of this trouble, when you could have just been rid of me four years ago?" He had shocked me into silence; if I had known he felt anything like this ... actually, I had no idea what I would have done. Still, though. Gerard, beside me, sighed. "I love her now, you know. I could have gotten over it, back then. But I'm really, really in love with her. I'm not walking away from this." The resolve in his voice snapped me back to reality.

"I know," I said, "I love her, too. That's why I need to make sure she's happy -- with you." In a flash, I realized that I had made a choice, before I'd even known there was a decision to be made. Quietly, I watched Gerard for a reaction.

"But why me? I know you care about her, but--"

"No. Gerard. I love her. The same way you do. And maybe I've always resented you for taking her away from me, but I've also always been thankful to you for keeping her from me. And it had to be you, because you're the only other person I could trust to care more about Holly than yourself, to give her the love you and I both know she deserves."

It took the boy a moment, but his eyes eventually glazed over with horror-stricken understanding. He stood up again, and started pacing along the top row of the bleachers. "Jesus Christ on a bicycle, Hannah, do you even understand what you're saying to me right now?"

I glared daggers into him. "Yeah, actually, I do."

"What, and you expected me to understand, or something? You need a therapist, Hannah. And that's just to start."

I laughed. "I've been to three, if you remember. And maybe I did kind of hope you'd understand a little. I sort of had this misconception that we were friends -- forgive me if I was wrong."

"Well, for starters, friends don't fall in love with their friends' girlfriend, to say nothing of that girlfriend being the first friend's God-damn sister." He stopped pacing, turned on his heel to eye me suspiciously. "Please tell me you two never--"

I turned my head away, tugged at the cuff of my jacket. "Not that it's any of your business, but no, you don't need to worry about that." I turned back, returning his glare, raised my eyebrows in a challenge. "And technically, I fell in love with her first."

That, finally, broke him. Gerard roared -- with laughter. Once he managed to calm himself down, he took his seat back and looked at me so intensely I wondered if I'd missed a challenge to a staring contest. Finally, he asked, "How long?"

I shrugged. "Nana was still alive." It was hard to pinpoint an exact date. Gerard nodded.

"So, you hooked me up with Holly just to keep yourself away from her? You know, yours is the only life twisted enough for any of this to happen. I nodded my agreement to both statements, staring out into the night, unsure even of what I was thinking; which was okay, I guess, because Gerard seemed to be thinking enough for the both of us. "That said," he muttered, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "if you ever love anyone else, half as much as you'd have to love Holly to do this, they'll be the luckiest person on Earth. I mean, if I wasn't dating her--"

"Stop, Gerard, please."

"--If I wasn't dating her, I might actually be sincere when I tell you it's not fair to either of you. But I am dating her, so nyah. God may be a bastard, but he's got my back here." We laughed together, then climbed down the bleachers to head back to the party. "And I didn't really mean what I said about the crayon."

I smiled up at Gerard, just a little impish. "No, you were right. I do hate you." I paused, waiting for his eyebrows to knit together in confusion before I continued: "At least, I hate that you look so good in this suit. Your prom photos will look so much better than mine."

Gerard threw his head back with a deep laugh. "That's a load of bull shit, but thanks for the compliment. Do you even know how many people would give their right leg to steal your date tonight, Hannah?"

I smiled. "Well, they wouldn't be very good dancers, then, would they?"