Chapter Fifteen


"A Zaction Man!"

Isaac kicked off the duvet cover, flopping over onto his stomach. He put down the pad of paper on which he'd been writing a letter to Rhia and kicked it out of sight under the bed. Nobody needed to read that. Even Rhia wouldn't get to read it. It was just Isaac's way of sorting out his pathetically mixed up feelings.

He stared at the clock, which flashed one-thirty. He knew he had an early rise the next day, for the magazine interview, and should go to sleep, but he was having some difficulty in that department tonight. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rhia, laughing, then crying, falling forward into his arms, sobbing her heart out.

He was worried about her. Who knew what Jake would do? It made Isaac sick, thinking of poor Rhia, locked in an abusive relationship. He couldn't see why she didn't just get out of it, but he knew that Rhia must have her reasons. She was too sensible and strong to be a simpering doormat. But strong as she was, Isaac knew that, at the same time, Rhia was fragile. Being in a relationship like that would make anyone fragile.

He knew he wouldn't sleep until he knew she was okay. Picking up the phone, he dialed her number, hoping she wasn't asleep.

She answered on the seventh ring. "'Lo?"

Isaac winced. Obviously Rhia had been fast asleep. "Did I wake you?"

"Ike?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, baby."

"You didn't wake me," lied Rhia, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah, right. Look, are you okay? I've been really worried. I'm all the way over on the East Coast…"

"Oh, yeah, you're in New York… Ike, it's one forty over there! What the hell are you doing awake?"

"Worrying about you."

"Oh."

"Rhia, are you going to be okay? I mean really okay?"

She sighed. "Look, Ike, I'm big enough and ugly enough to take care of myself. I don't want to be responsible for you appearing in teenie magazines looking like the living dead. Go to sleep, sweetie."

Isaac smiled. "Rhia, you're incredible, you know that?"

"I know that," she told him. "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. Are you keeping Tay and Zac up with your babbling?"

Isaac looked across the room. Taylor was lying on his side, T-shirt twisted, cheeks flushed duvet rumpled, snoring softly. Zac, on the other hand, was spread-eagled across his bed, one arm trailing on the floor, his chest rising and falling gently, in time with his even breathing. "No…" he smiled to himself as he examined his brothers. "They’re sound asleep. Nothing could wake them, you know that. They sleep like the dead."

"Why don't you follow their example?" suggested Rhia. "Don't you have an early rise?"

"Yeah, five-thirty. For some reason, 'Bop' always insists on interviewing us at ungodly hours of the morning. We should be done by noon, though." Isaac smiled, noticing how Rhia had managed to change the direction of the conversation completely. He didn't mind though; talking to Rhia made everything seem alright anyway.

"What else are you doing?" Rhia yawned, distorting her words.

"Shopping. Christmas. Fun."

"Oh, Ike, Christmas shopping in New York! Man, I wish I were there!"

"I wish you were here too."

Rhia coughed uncomfortably. "Umm…when are you home?"

"Oh, Wednesday. We're only here tomorrow and the day after."

"Well, I'll see you then. Can I go now? It's almost one a.m."

"Two here," countered Isaac. "Sure, I'll try to sleep now."

"Sweet dreams," smiled Rhia.

"You too, baby."

"Bye, Ike."

"Bye, I-" He fell silent, realizing that Rhia was gone. Just as well. He'd been about to tell her he loved her. Isaac raked his hand through his hair, shaking his head. Lack of sleep must be getting to him, but he still didn't feel tired.

He snatched up the remote control, zapping on the TV and flicking through the channels until he found MTV. He groaned as the picture emerged on to the screen, a familiar image of three guys cavorting about on the beach in wetsuits. "Is this the only time we get played?" he mumbled, rolling onto his back. "At two in the morning, when all normal people are asleep?"

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, you know," mumbled a sleepy voice.

Isaac sat up. "No, Zac, talking to you is the first sign of madness."

"Oh, ha, ha, ha. Hand me the needle till I stitch my sides back up." Zac crawled out of bed and stumbled over to Isaac's, scratching his mussed up hair and yawning, a yawn so big he thought his jaw would crack.

Isaac turned his head away, grimacing. "Just the thing I want to see at two in the morning. Zac Hanson's dental work."

"People would kill to see my fillings, I'll have you know."

Isaac shuddered. "Get the dentist to make them multi-colored next time, then."

Zac just smiled, flopping down on the bed. He glanced at the TV screen. "Ike, how many times do I have to tell you that watching 'Tulsa, Tokyo and the Middle Of Nowhere' just to stare at yourself in a wetsuit isn't cool?"

Isaac rolled his eyes. "It's MTV, dummy."

"Oh. They still play Hanson?"

"Evidently so. But only when everyone's asleep," he added.

"Ike, it's the middle of the day in Australia."

"Or when everyone's at school."

"God, Ike, does the word optimism mean anything to you?" asked Zac.

"Not a damned thing."

Zac laughed. "That's obvious! Anyway, worry not, fair brother! Our plan to Hansonize the world is almost ready to be put into action!"

"And what's the plan?" asked Isaac, shooting an amused look at Zac.

"We have our faces plastered all over 'Bop'. Teenies go 'Ooh, Ike's had his hair cut isn't he gorgeous! I love Taylor; he's a hottie! And Zac is so cute, man, he's a MAN!!!!'. Right?"

"Right," nodded Isaac, trying unsuccessfully not to smile at his brother's teenybopping parody. Zac had always been the best Internet teenie poser.

"Then everyone buys all the singles and the albums and the merchandise. But in it, we put this little brainwashing message. All they'll want is Hanson. Hanson, Hanson, and more Hanson. We'll be filthy rich, and have complete power over everyone! Yeah, baby!"

Isaac laughed. "That's your plan?"

"Ingenious, isn't it?" Zac grinned, lying back on the bed and folding his arms behind his head.

"Oh, yes, wonderful. I can't see any flaws in it at all." Isaac nodded his head, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

"Ooh, ooh, Ike!"

"What?"

"Look! It's us! Getting killed by Marilyn Manson!" Zac pointed to the TV.

Isaac turned, seeing clay figures of themselves and the Spice Girls being squashed by a set of lights. "Oh, yeah, 'Celebrity Deathmatch.' At this time in the morning?"

Zac shrugged, watching as the screen changed to Marilyn Manson.

"The Hanson boys' father actually called up my record company complaining because all three of the boys burst into tears when I killed them…" Marilyn Manson was saying.

"That's a lie!" yelled Zac.

Isaac laughed. "Like anyone's gonna believe that!"

Zac dissolved into giggles, pretending to cry. "Daddy! The bad man squashed the Clay-Doh figure of me! Call his record company!"

Isaac grinned. "Honestly…"

"Will you guys shut up!"

"Uh-oh, it's awake!" Zac pretended to shake.

"Zac, I thought you said you'd killed it?" Isaac scolded.

"Ike, I thought it was a girl. You know I don't condone violence to girls."

"Oh, aren't we the comedians?" grumbled Taylor. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Sorry, Tay," mumbled Isaac, smothering a smile. "Did we wake you?"

"Duh-uh… Not that I find it impossible to sleep with you guys making like police sirens over there. Why the wailing, anyway?"

Zac jumped across the room onto Taylor's bed, wrapping his arms round him and pretending to cry again. "Tay, the bad man killed us! Save me, Tay!"

Taylor shoved Zac onto the floor. "Oh, grow up!"

Zac made a face. "Jeez, Tay, can't you take a joke?"

Taylor sighed heavily, rolling over again and pulling the duvet over his head.

"Tay?"

"What?" he muttered.

"You smell."

Taylor ignored him.

"You stink real bad," continued Zac. "And your hair is a mess. And you've drooled all over your pillow, and…"

"Look, Zac, screw you!" snapped Taylor, jumping to his feet. He stomped into the bathroom, dragging his covers with him. There was a click as the door locked behind him.

"Oh, nice going, Zac." Isaac sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"What? Is it my fault he's a grump?"

"Would he be so grumpy if you hadn't just sat and insulted him?"

"No," Zac reasoned. "But I was only joking."

"He was still half-asleep. Now he's locked himself in the bathroom."

"Best place for him," grinned Zac.

Isaac shook his head. "I hate you, Zac."

"Why?"

"Because I really, really needed to use that bathroom."

***

Taylor groaned, trying to figure out why his neck was so stiff and his bed was so hard. And why he was so cold. He rolled over, banging into something cool and hard. Forcing open one eye, he came face to face with…a toilet? Since when was there a toilet in his bed? Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, realizing that there was no toilet his bed. There was no Taylor in his bed either. What the hell was he doing in the bathroom?

Then it all came flooding back. Ike and Zac, making noise in the middle of the night, Zac being a pest, Taylor stomping into the large hotel bathroom. He hadn't planned on spending the night in there. He must've fallen asleep.

He rolled his head around, cringing at the cracking noises coming from his neck. He'd probably end up appearing in 'Bop' or whatever it was with a lopsided head. He shook his head, looking at his watch. It flashed six-thirty. He stared at it for a second before it registered. It was six-thirty. They were being picked up at six-forty for the interview. "Shit!" he yelled, bursting out of the bathroom. "Ike! Zac! Get up!" he shouted.

Isaac and Zac were lying sprawled across Isaac's bed, the TV still tuned to MTV. Taylor shook Isaac. "Ike! Ike!" he hissed frantically.

"Go 'way, Tay," mumbled Isaac, shrugging him off.

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Zac!" he called, shaking Zac.

Zac didn't move.

"Oh, brother!" muttered Taylor. He dashed through to the bathroom, filling up their toothbrush mug with water. He knew he'd be in trouble for wetting the mattress, but he had to get them up. He ran back through, chucking the water over them.

"What the-"

"Who's the-"

Taylor cut off both their indignant cries. "It's six-thirty-three!" he gasped breathlessly.

"So?" muttered Zac, closing his eyes again and rubbing his wet face off the mattress in a weak attempt to dry it.

"You're kidding!" groaned Isaac, sitting up and squeezing the water out of his hair. "Aww, hell!"

"Zac!" Taylor shook him. "We're getting picked up in seven minutes!"

"Six now," countered Isaac, ignoring the look he was getting from Taylor.

"What?!" Zac spluttered, suddenly fully awake and bolt upright. "I can't get ready in six minutes!"

"You'll have to," reasoned Isaac. "Just throw some clothes on."

"I need to shower."

"THERE'S NO TIME FOR A SHOWER!" exploded Taylor, pulling Zac roughly off the bed.

Zac fell with a thump on the floor. He narrowed his eyes at Taylor, getting to his feet, tossing his head and stomping into the bathroom, grabbing some clothes on the way past.

"Did you have to be so brutal?" asked Isaac calmly, locating a clean T-shirt and pulling it on.

"Would he have listened otherwise?" threw back Taylor, wriggling into his tight jeans and fastening them.

"Did he listen then?" Isaac jerked his head towards the bathroom, where the sound of shower spray hitting tiles could be heard.

"Oh, for God's sake, Zac!" screamed Taylor, thumping on the bathroom door. "You're gonna make us late!"

There was no reply from Zac, except the faint sound of him singing.

"That boy!" spat Taylor, running a comb through his hair.

"Is not your responsibility," finished Isaac. "You don't control him. If he wants a shower, let him have a shower. Get a little Marie Antoinette in you, Tay. She let them eat cake."

Taylor stared at him dumbfoundedly, and not just because of the strange historical reference to Marie Antoinette and her cakes. Since when was Isaac okay with being late for an interview? "Ike, we'll be late."

"For God's sake, Tay, who died and made you boss?"

Taylor muttered something inaudible, glowering at Isaac as he sat down to tie his boots.

Zac emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped round his waist and another one rubbing his hair.

"Zac, will you hurry up?!"

"Somebody once told me the world was gonna roll me, I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed…" sang Zac, totally ignoring his brother and wriggling into his underwear underneath the towel with deliberate slowness, his back turned to his brothers.

"We're going to be so late and Dad'll totally flip!" Taylor threw his hands in the air.

"She was looking kinda dumb with her finger and her thumb and the shape of an L on her forehead…" Zac stared pointedly at Taylor, still refusing to answer. "Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming, I something-something-something and I hit the ground running…"

"Zac!" yelled Taylor.

"Didn't make sense not to live for fun, your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb, so much to do, so much to see, so what's wrong with hating the Backstreet Boys..." Zac continued to sing, improvising on the words now. "You'll never smell if you take a shower, if you never shower then you'll smell…"

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Oh, get a move on!"

"Hey now, we'll be late now, Tay'll flip now, what's new…"

Isaac began to laugh; Taylor shot him the dirtiest look imaginable.

"Hey, now, Tay's a freak now and he smells like my shoes, and all that is green is mold, you'll find it growing on Tay when he's old…"

Taylor jumped to his feet and stomped out of the room, leaving Isaac and Zac dissolving into giggles behind him. Let them have their fun. It wasn't going to be his fault if they were late for the interview.

***

"Zac, I'm incredibly disappointed in you." Mr Hanson twisted his mustache between his thumb and forefinger. "You know you can't tell journalists that your brother is sleeping with sheep!"

"Oh, I don't see why not," muttered Zac. "No one ever takes me seriously anyway. They think all I do is make jokes."

"Well, that was a joke about Taylor and the sheep."

"That's what you think." Zac punched the pillow.

"What's going on with you guys?" Mr Hanson sat down next to his son.

"We're not talking."

"Why not?"

"He threw water at me this morning. So I made up a song about him. So he's in the huff."

Mr Hanson raised his eyebrows. It wasn't exactly the kind of answer you'd expect when you were referring to two supposedly mature young men. "Well, I suggest you guys fix it up."

"I can't. He's not here."

"Wait till he comes back." Mr Hanson got to his feet. "Look, Zac, you're lucky that interviewer thought you were joking. If she hadn't, do you realize how much trouble you'd be in right now?"

"Let me guess." Zac spoke in a dull monotone. "You'd cut out my small intestine then strangle me with it."

"Zac, you are a very strange individual," Mr Hanson told him. "I'll see you later. Fix it with Tay."

"Fix it with Tay," mimicked Zac, screwing his face up. He was sick of this trip already, and it was only a day old. Thank God they were going back home tomorrow. When they got home, the Christmas decorations were going up, Zac realized, much to his delight. It was almost Christmas; only a couple of weeks to go. Zac hugged himself in excitement, wondering why December always seemed to be about five months long. It had seemed ages ago since he'd turned his Sarah Michelle Gellar calendar over at the end of November, and it was only like the twelfth or something. Looking at the Scenes Of New York calendar on the wall of the hotel room, Zac realized it was in fact Monday, December 13th. He'd only been a day off.

He flopped down on his bed, kicking his feet rhythmically off the mattress. He was so tired, but he didn't feel like sleeping. He had this pent-up exhaustion energy locked inside him.

Rolling onto the floor, just to see how much it would hurt, he wondered where his brothers were. As far as he knew, they weren't on the best of terms either, so presumably, they weren't together. He crashed into Isaac's bed, groaning as his hand jammed in the narrow space between the bottom of the bed and the floor. He twisted round, trying to loosen his arm. As he yanked it out, an A5 ruled pad of paper came out with it, the top sheet covered in Isaac's neat script.

Zac honestly didn't mean to read it. He just meant to glance at it, but when he saw it was a letter, his curiosity got the better of him. Sitting down on Isaac's bed, he began to read, his eyes widening more in amazement with each word he read…

Monday, 13th December, 1999

00:47, EST

Dear Rhia,


I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I see you crying, I see you laughing and I see your face moving ever closer to mine as it did that night that we kissed in your bedroom. I haven't been able to get you out of my head since then. All I can think about is you. Are you thinking about me? I wonder this every night as I settle down to try to sleep. Of course, I can never sleep straight away.


Why can't we be together, Rhia? I know you're with Jake, but ask yourself, is he really treating you the way you deserve to be treated? If you were my girl, I'd treat you properly, I promise. I'm worried about you, Rhia, really worried. I'm scared that one day, I'll call in to see you, or I'll call you and you won't be there, all because of Jake.


Anyway, I know I'm blabbering, and I know I'll never ever send this. I can't tell you how I feel. You think that our kiss was a simple mistake, and I know that I'll always let you think that. But it wasn't, Rhia. I wanted it. I didn't know I wanted it, but I did. More than anything, if you'll excuse the play on words.


All my love forever,

Ike


"Wow," breathed Zac, lowering the pad to his knees. "Ike and Rhia? Playing tonsil tennis? No way…" He quickly shoved the pad back underneath the bed, realizing that he felt for his brother. Isaac would never tell Rhia how he felt; that was certain. But he obviously had some deep feelings for her.

Zac closed his eyes, trying to conjure up an image of Rhia. The same one came to mind that always came when he thought of Rhia. That day, last year, when there had been a barbecue at the Davidson's. Rhia had walked in on Zac, who had been really ill and was lying on the cool cement floor of the garage, trying to calm his raging fever. She had asked him what was wrong and as he'd begun to speak, his stomach had rebelled against him and he'd thrown up. He'd been so embarrassed, and combined with his fever and the fact that he'd felt utterly miserable, he'd begun to cry. He remembered Rhia crouching beside him and wrapping her arms around him, stroking his hair and whispering comforts into his ear. She'd made him better. And, Zac recalled, she'd smelled good, and was a great hugger, not all bony and awkward. Zac had always thought of Rhia as a big sister to him, but now, thinking back, he could see why Isaac was so fond of her. She was a great girl, and although she was always going on about how ugly, fat or spotty she was, she was beautiful. She was a real person, not some perfectly plastic, underweight Barbie doll.

Yep, thought Zac. I can totally understand why Ike's crushing on her. He only had one thing left to think of… He had the information. But how could he best use it to his advantage?

***

Taylor blew on his hot chocolate in a desperate attempt to cool the scalding liquid. He'd already burnt his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He puffed hard on it, sending a little shower of chocolate raindrops over the edge of the polystyrene cup onto the Formica tabletop. "Shit," he muttered, dabbing at the pink table with the white, red and gold napkin.

"Didn't your momma teach you not to cuss, white boy?"

Taylor looked up, finding Isaac staring down at him, an amused look dancing in his brown eyes. "You really gotta work on that accent, Ike."

He grinned. "May I join you, modom?"

"That one too," added Taylor, rolling his eyes at his brother's lame attempt at an English accent and motioning for him to sit down. "I thought you weren't talking to me."

"Hey, I wasn't the one who said you were partial to sheep, was I?" Isaac sat down, setting his coffee and fries on the table.

"True," conceded Taylor, adding a little tub of cream to his hot chocolate in a last-ditch attempt to save his tonsils. "What you doing here?"

"Standing on my head and singing the British national anthem whilst juggling flame cones." Isaac pulled off his gloves. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Taylor smiled. "Well, of all the strip joints in all the world, fancy meeting you here," he drawled, sticking the plastic stirrer between his teeth and curling his lip.

Isaac shook his head, dark blond hair falling across his forehead. "I'd hardly call a McDonald's a strip joint. And besides, it's the closest one to the hotel and the temperature out there would feel quite at home with the penguins, so I was pretty limited in my choice, not wanting to swim the Atlantic or anything."

"Penguins? In Tulsa Zoo?" kidded Taylor, feeling a little silly. Maybe the cold had gone to his head.

"No, idiot, in the North Pole!"

"There's no penguins in the North Pole, idiot," teased Taylor, his eyes twinkling as he finally dared to take a sip of his hot chocolate.

"Fine, Antarctica." Isaac gulped down his coffee. "Man, I needed that!"

Taylor laughed. "Did you really need it that fast? Is there any skin left on the back of your throat?"

Isaac coughed. "Umm, actually, I don't think so…"

"Here, try this. It's a little cooler; I added some cream." He handed his brother the hot chocolate and Isaac gratefully took a sip. "What you doing after this?" asked Taylor, helping himself to one of Isaac's fries.

"Wanna hang out? Go for a walk or something?"

Taylor smiled. "I'd like that."

"Me too. Hey, I could take you to see Santa Claus!"

"Oh, yay! We could sit in his lap and tell him what we want for Christmas, then get a candy cane and four cavities next time we visit the dentist!" Taylor took back his hot chocolate and brought the cup to his lips.

"Four cavities? That many from one candy cane? No wonder we've got mouths full of metal," he joked.

Taylor drained his cup and Isaac popped his last fry in his mouth. "Will we go?" Taylor got to his feet.

"Sure. Tay, have you got gloves?"

Taylor looked in the pocket of his jacket. "Nope."

"Man, your hands are gonna freeze!" Isaac picked up his own gloves. "Take mine."

"I can't do that," protested Taylor. "Then you'll go cold."

Isaac grinned. "Tell you what, we'll share." He pulled one of the gloves on his left hand and handed the other one to Taylor, who did the same.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Come on." Isaac led the way outside.

It was only three-thirty, but already the sky was beginning to darken. Christmas lights were twinkling and shimmering in all the shop windows and a group of carol singers were belting out "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen". Charity collectors were shaking huge plastic buckets full of money and the spicy smell of mincemeat pies and mulled wine wafted over from the food cart. Snowflakes were swirling delicately from the leaden sky to the ground, dancing in the air. Taylor shivered and pulled his jacket tight around him, sniffing. He felt like his heart was going to burst. Christmas always made him want to hug everyone, and dance in the streets. It was just so romantic and sentimental.

He felt the weight of Isaac's hand on his shoulder, and he knew he was feeling the same thing. "Come on, Taybear. We got some window shopping to do."

Taylor smiled up at him. "In preparation for the real shopping tomorrow?"

"You know it, buddy." Isaac squeezed his shoulder and together they crunched through the ever-thickening blanket of snow. "Oh, hey, wait here. I want to check something out for a second, okay?" Isaac jogged back a couple of feet and disappeared into the crowd.

Taylor fought his way through the bag-laden shoppers and leant against the wall of some store. He looked down at his hands, one clad in Isaac's green woolen glove and the other one taking on a frightening blue tinge. He found himself wondering how long it would take for him to develop frostbite.

"Excuse me, would you like to donate some money to the Ohio State Children's Hospital?"

Taylor stopped examining his hands abruptly. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. He slowly looked up; his eyes meeting a pair of equally startled bright blue eyes. "Gabbie," he whispered, his brow creasing.

"Taylor…" She stared at him, confusion evident in her eyes.

"Oh, my God." Taylor opened his arms, overcome with the urge to hug her.

"Taylor, don't!" She pushed his arms away. "Don't do this to yourself."

Taylor felt an icy grip tighten around his heart and he was sure that it wasn't just because it was cold. "But can’t you see? It was fate, Gabbie, fate! We were supposed to meet up again, supposed to be together!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" spat Gabbie. "You're just a hormonal teenager. Taylor, you were great, honey. Well, for your age anyway. But it can't happen!"

"You don't mean that."

"I do! I mean it more seriously than I've ever meant anything else!"

Taylor bit his lip. "You can't mean it," he whispered. "You're crying."

"No, I'm not!" Gabbie wiped away her tears with the back of her wrist. "I mean it Taylor. I never want to see you ever again! Just stay away from me! In case you can't tell, I'm engaged." She pulled off her leather glove and flashed her fourth finger at Taylor, showing off a beautifully small, perfectly formed diamond ring.

"But I love you, Gabbie."

"Dammit, Taylor, I don’t love you!" snapped Gabbie, wiping away more tears.

Just then, a tall, dark haired guy appeared at Gabbie's side and slipped his arm around her. "Hey, baby."

Gabbie awkwardly shrugged off his arm, glancing uncomfortably at Taylor. "Hi, Bryan."

"Gabbie, is this jerk bothering you? Are you okay? You look like you've been crying."

Gabbie smiled a weak, watery smile. "No, Bryan, I'm fine. It's just the cold."

"Okay, well, let's go." He put his arm back around her, turning her round and guiding her away.

Gabbie looked behind her once, her eyes still wet, but Bryan guided her lips to his, and they sank into a deep kiss, stopping walking and melting into one another.

Taylor felt like he had turned to ice. It hurt, watching the only girl he'd ever loved kissing some guy ten times better looking than he was. And it hurt a lot. He felt the tears begin to slide down his cheeks.

"Excuse me, are you okay?"

Taylor looked up. "I'm okay," he told the woman, who was carrying a small baby in her arms. "Thanks," he added.

"Happy Holidays," she smiled, walking away and revealing Gabbie and Bryan once again.

Taylor gasped for breath, feeling like he'd been punched in the stomach, like he was choking, drowning in the hurt.

"Hey, I'm back." He heard Isaac walk up behind him.

Taylor hastily wiped away his fallen tears and turned to face Isaac. "Hey," he greeted him, his voice tight and strained.

"Tay? What's wrong?" Isaac looked searchingly into Taylor's face, taking in his shiny blue eyes, brimming with tears. Then he looked past and saw what was making his brother cry. "Is that…"

"Gabbie? Yeah, it sure is," muttered Taylor bitterly. "And her fiancé."

"Oh, Taylor, I'm so sorry…"

Taylor shrugged. "It doesn't matter…" But his voice cracked and he began to sob, hard, right there in the middle of New York City.

Isaac's arms were round him in a flash, pressing him close against his chest. "Of course it matters, Taylor, of course it matters."

"I spoke to her," Taylor told him through his tears. "I told her I loved her."

"Oh, Tay…" Isaac gently stroked Taylor's hair, smoothing it down and comforting his brother. Taylor was always so open with his feelings. Usually it was a good thing, but it made him so vulnerable, so easy to attack. "Come on, buddy, it's okay. I'm here."

"You'll always be here, right, Ike?"

Isaac raised his eyebrows, wondering what he had to do with anything, then realized that Taylor was babbling. "Sure, buddy, I'll always be with you."

Over his crying brother, he could see Gabbie and her fiancé finally pulling apart. Gabbie looked over, seeing Taylor sobbing his broken heart out and Isaac holding him close, waiting for the pain to go away, or at least to ease a little. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to run over and make everything better. Then her fiancé tugged her hand, and she turned, walking away, out of sight and out of Taylor Hanson's life forever.

***

Rap-rap-rap!

"Ugh…" groaned Zac, pulling the pillow over his face. These tap dancers in his dream were becoming way too noisy.

Rap-rap-rap-rap-rap…rap-rap!

He rolled over, squishing his face into the pillow. He didn't like this dream any more.

Rap-rap-rap! "Zac!!!"

He sat bolt upright, hair in disarray and totally confused. Where the hell was he?

Then he remembered. New York City, in a hotel room.

"Zac!!!"

That sounds like Ike, he thought sleepily.

"Zac, will you let us in?!"

"Ike?" he called. "Is that you?"

"No, it's Santa Claus working overtime. Of course it's me!"

Zac rolled his eyes. Ike just wasn't funny sometimes. He stumbled down off the bed and over to the door, pulling it open and seeing an angry-looking Isaac standing there with his arm round a red-eyed Taylor. "Hey."

"Finally!" Isaac and Taylor pushed past him, Taylor running for the bathroom.

"What's up with him?"

"Who?" asked Isaac, pulling off his one glove and his green scarf.

"The man in the moon." Zac rolled his eyes again. "Tay, you ass."

"Oh, nothing. He's okay."

Zac sat down, staring inquisitively at Isaac. "He didn't look okay. He'd been crying. Again."

"Yep."

"So, what's wrong?"

Isaac sat next to Zac, reaching out and reorganizing his brother's hair.

"Ike, gerroff!" Zac shrank back, snatching up a hairbrush and fixing his own hair. "I was asleep, in case you hadn't noticed. Anyway, what's up with him?"

Isaac looked down at the duvet cover, unsure of whether or not Taylor would want Zac to know. Sighing, he figured that Zac would find out sooner or later. It was better to tell him, rather than having him bugging Taylor about it. Tay was obviously not in the mood to be bugged. "He saw Gabbie."

Zac raised his eyebrows. "He didn't."

"No, he did. And her fiancé."

"No way!" Zac gasped.

"Way," countered Isaac. "He's a bit upset."

"Neither wonder. Did he talk to her?"

Isaac looked sadly at Zac. "He told her he loved her. Right before he met the fiancé."

Zac winced. "Ouch. That had to hurt."

"No kidding. He broke down."

"In the middle of the city?"

"Well, yeah. I'm not sure if we were in the middle, but pretty much."

"Oh, man…"

Just then, Taylor emerged from the bathroom, blowing his nose.

Isaac and Zac fell silent.

"It's okay," muttered Taylor. "You can keep talking about me. I don't mind."

Zac smiled. "I'm sorry, Tay."

"So you should be. That song sucked."

"Song?" Zac knit his brows together in confusion.

"Your version of 'All Star'."

"Oh…" Zac trailed off. "I didn't mean about that…"

"I know. But I don't want to talk about the other thing, okay?"

Zac shrugged. "Sure." He got up and walked over to Taylor, placing both his hands on his shoulders. "You know… I'm always here. To listen, to laugh at you, to make up pathetic songs about you… When you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen."

Taylor smiled and gave Zac a quick hug. So quick, if you'd blinked, you would have missed it. "Thanks, brat. That means a lot."

Zac grinned enigmatically. "That's what I'm here for."

Isaac sighed. "I might call Rhia."

Zac's eyes lit up. "Oh, you might call Rhia…"

Isaac frowned. "Yes, Zac, I might call Rhia."

"Oh…and why might you call Rhia?"

"Zac, you're scaring me." Isaac walked over to his brother.

"As scary as Rhia's face when she's moving forward to-"

Isaac clapped his hand over Zac's mouth. "Bathroom, now," he growled.

"What's going on?" asked Taylor, before realizing that both his brothers were ignoring him.

Isaac frog-marched Zac into the bathroom, locking the door behind them. "What do you know?"

"Know? Moi?" Zac stared at Isaac innocently.

"Zac, answer me!"

"I don't know anything, Ike, sweetie pie."

Isaac kicked the toilet in frustration. "You'd better keep your mouth shut, Zac."

"It'll cost you…"

"What?!" Isaac sat on the edge of the bath. "Why are you doing this?"

Zac sighed. "Well, I decided I wasn't putting enough effort into the role of your bratty little brother."

"Why start now?"

"Because I really need twenty dollars?" Zac smiled sheepishly.

"Why?"

"I have like no money to buy gifts."

"So you basically want me to buy my own Christmas present?" Isaac stared at him quizzically.

"Kinda. And Tay's and…"

"Okay, okay, I get the picture. And what if I don't give you it?"

Zac brought his hand to his heart. "Oh, Rhia! I love you, Rhia! The way you looked when you kissed me… It wasn't a mistake. I love you, more than anything… Blah, blah, barf, barf, gag me with a spoon…"

"Quit it already! And if I give you this twenty dollars, you'll keep quiet?"

Zac pondered his offer. "Make it thirty and I'll be mouse-like."

Isaac groaned, digging in his pants' pocket. "Okay, okay, although I can't imagine you ever being mouse-like…"

"Thanking you!" Zac took the bills from his brother and stuffed them into his jeans.

"You drive a hard bargain, kiddo."

"Nah, you're just a pushover, baby!" Zac wiggled his eyebrows. "I would've settled for fifteen!"

"You were gonna buy all your gifts with fifteen dollars?"

"Nah, I got a stash here." He patted his pocket, grinning wickedly at his brother. "Gotcha, Ike."

Isaac slapped his hand to his forehead. He'd been conned by his own little brother. Didn't they usually all club together to buy gifts for one another anyway? "Zac, I hate you."

"Well, I love you, Ike. You'll do anything to keep me quiet…"

***

Taylor threw the Kleenex into the ever-growing pile by the side of his bed. His nose was red raw from the continuous blowing and his eyes stung like crazy. He gulped down another huge sob, muffling the noise with his pillow. He didn't want to wake Isaac or Zac. They'd all been up late enough the night before. He felt a fresh surge of tears welling up in his eyes and he bit his lip as they began to roll down his cheeks.

Taylor Hanson! You are pathetic, he scolded himself, dabbing at his eyes again.

He didn't want to cry. But it hurt so much. Even after he and Gabbie had split up, he'd always held on to the dream that maybe someday they'd get back together. But now she was getting married. And the venom in her eyes when he'd confessed his love to her…

He began to sob harder, not wanting to, but needing to. He was in agony. His heart felt tight, his stomach contracted…

He felt a weight behind him on the bed, and a pair of strong arms go round him. He sat up, falling forward into the hug and crying pitifully into his brother's shoulder. "Zac…" he sobbed, almost unable to speak.

Zac bit his lip, beginning to rock Taylor in his arms. "Oh, Tayles…"

Taylor squeezed Zac tightly, so hard that Zac began to find it a little hard to breathe. "Don't leave me, Zac… Never let me go…"

Zac heaved a dry sob himself. He'd never seen Taylor quite so bad. He knew that he'd thought he'd never really see him worse when they'd first broken up, but right now, Taylor was completely shattered. It killed Zac to see him like this. "I'll never let you go, Taybear," he whispered into his brother's ear. He suddenly felt terribly guilty for teasing his brother that morning. "I'm sorry, Tay. For everything."

"Just don't leave me," Taylor repeated, his voice shaking and breaking with every syllable.

"I won't, I won't," Zac assured him, shooting a desperate look at Isaac for help. But his brother was sound asleep and showing no signs of waking up. He flashed back to that time at the store a few months back. He'd thought that was as bad as he'd ever see Taylor get. He'd been wrong. Taylor sounded so helpless, so weak and so defeated. Zac was glad that his brother could rely on him, but he had no idea what to do. He just wished Taylor would stop crying. It made Zac want to cry himself, but he knew that it certainly wouldn't help if he started bawling as well.

He sighed heavily, beginning to rub Taylor's back, moving his hands in a gentle circular motion. He'd done it to Mackie and Zoë when they wouldn't stop crying and it had worked. But it didn't seem to be working on Taylor. Probably because Taylor doesn't need burped, Zac reasoned with himself. But what did Taylor need? Zac sure as hell didn't know. "Oh, Tay, Tay, Tay, Tay, Tay…"

"Zac, I feel like…"

"Chicken Tonight?" suggested Zac, gasping as soon as he realized the words were out of his mouth. "Sorry," he whispered.

Taylor just nestled his head into Zac's shoulder. Zac could feel his T-shirt becoming wet, but he didn’t care. He only wanted to make Taylor better. Why did his problems have to be so complicated?

"Tay, it's okay…" he began, knowing that his words were anything but reassuring.

"Did I wake you?"

"Oh, no, no, don't worry about that. I was awake anyway. I thought you were asleep."

"I was trying to be quiet," Taylor told his chest, his voice muffled.

"It's okay," Zac repeated. He pushed Taylor back, holding him by the shoulders and looking at him. His brother's eyes were red and swollen, his nose pink and sore looking and he basically looked totally alone and depressed. He didn't look whole. He looked like he was missing a piece of him somewhere.


Everybody's looking for that something
One thing that makes it all complete
You find it in the strangest places
Places you never knew it could be

Some find it in the face of their children
Some find it in their lover's eyes
Who can deny the joy it brings
When you find that special thing
You're flying without wings


Zac pulled him back into the hug, holding him tightly. He could fill that void, be that missing part. Why was he holding back? This was his brother, one of his two best friends in the whole entire universe. One of the two people who would always laugh at his jokes, never really mind when he was being a brat and who would always be there for him. God, Taylor would do anything for him. It was time for Zac to acknowledge that and show him that he felt the same way.


Some find the cheer in every morning
Some in the solitary nights
You find it in the words of others
A simple line can make you laugh or cry

You find it in the deepest friendship
The kind you cherish all your life
And when you know how much that means
You find that special thing
You're flying without wings


"Tay, when you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen. You know that?" he asked gently.

Taylor nodded, taking a deep breath. "It hurts…"

Zac squeezed him tighter, then pulled away. "I know, buddy, I know."

"I thought… I loved her, Zac. It's like…like my dream's just been smashed into a million pieces, right over my head. She's getting engaged… Did Ike tell you that?" He looked into Zac's eyes, his own eyes glittering iridescently as a result of the tears.

"He told me. Tay, you're far too good for her. She didn't deserve a great guy like you."

Taylor looked up at him, smiling wanly. "You're sweet, Zac."

"Find a new dream, Tay," urged Zac. "Rebuild it into something better. Something that deserves you."


So impossible as they may seem
You've got to fight for every dream
Cautious to know, that one you let go
Would have made you complete


"A new dream?" repeated Taylor, his eyes brimming again. "I want to be loved, Zac. I want to make a difference; I want to be important to somebody. I want somebody to hear something and immediately think 'Oh, I gotta tell Tay!' I want somebody to include me in everything they do, to feel like they can't live without me…" he trailed off as a tear squeezed its way out of his tear duct. "That's my dream."

Zac felt his own eyes welling up. "You've got that, Taylor Hanson," he whispered, his voice cracking. "You've got that. In the person sitting in front of you." He wiped his eyes then took Taylor's hands. "And in that big lump sleeping over there," he added, shooting a watery smile in Isaac's direction. "And in everyone back home. You mean so much to us. Taylor, I need you. Ike needs you. We all need you. And I know…" He looked Taylor directly in the eye. "Remember that time we thought you'd killed yourself?"

Taylor nodded, his heart swelling, feeling as if it were going to burst.

"You didn't see how much I cried. And I don’t cry as much as you do, Tay. It really takes something to make me cry. I'm telling you, Tay, here and now, I can't live without knowing that you're somewhere and knowing that you'll always be there for me. It's just not possible."

Taylor swallowed. "This is getting slushy. You hate slushy," he cracked weakly.

Zac smiled back. "I don’t hate this… I think this had to be said."

"Me, too. Come here." Taylor pulled Zac in again, holding him as close as was humanly possible. "God, Zac, I love you."

Zac smiled into his brother's hair. "I love you, too."


With me swinging up beside you
To watch the sunrise on your face
To know that I can say I love you
At any given time or place

With little things that only I know
Those are the things that make you mine
And it's like flying without wings
Because you're my special thing
I'm flying without wings

And you're the place my life begins
And you'll be where it ends
I'm flying without wings
And that's the joy you bring
I'm flying without wings


Zac and Taylor held each other in the darkness, tears streaming down both of their faces. Zac sighed, resting his head on his brother's shoulder. A sudden urge washed over him, and as he entertained the idea, he wondered how Taylor would react. Deciding that it would probably make him feel even better, Zac turned and quickly kissed Taylor on the cheek.

Taylor felt it and smiled. "I never, ever thought I'd see the day when you'd do that, Zac. Hugs, sure; kisses, no way. Isn't that your motto?"

Zac shrugged. "Usually. Don't get used to it." He laughed, a little nervously, wiping away his tears. "I just…felt like it."

Taylor smiled warmly. "You have no idea how much that meant."

Zac raised his eyebrows, squirming uncomfortably. "Tay, it didn't mean anything."

"Sure it did. At least, it better have." He stared at Zac, realizing what his brother was thinking. He'd read far too many perverted Hanfics. Grinning through his tears, he gasped, "Quick, Zac, in the bed. God, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for this. Oh, man, the sexual tension…"

Zac's jaw dropped. "Tay, I… No, I didn't mean…" Then he saw the glint in his brother's eye. "Oh, man, I guess you're feeling a little better then? You're joking with me, right?" Zac looked almost comically relieved.

Taylor smiled. "No offence or anything, but I prefer the female of the species." Then he turned serious. "But, yes, I'm feeling a bit better. Thanks to you. Have you ever considered being a counselor?"

"Uh, I think I might get sued for harassment if I were to use the lovey-dovey, huggy, kissy sort of therapy. That's reserved for family and friends only."

Taylor took his hand. "Thanks, Zac."

"It's what I'm here for. Just forget about her, Taylor. You got everything you need."

Taylor gazed at Zac, taking in the image of his little brother, clad in sweatpants and a T-shirt. His face was flushed, his feet were bare, his hair was sticking up all over the place and his eyes were bleary. He was staring right back, the look of compassion and concern so purely evident in his eyes. Taylor smiled inside, realizing that this tousled and mussed up person he called his brother was right. He had his family, his friends, his music. What more could he want, never mind need? "You're right, Zac," he replied finally. "I have everything."

Zac smiled. "I told ya," he murmured gently. "Now, can you get some sleep?"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Not a problem." Zac yawned, getting to his feet. "Night."

"Zac?" Taylor caught the bottom of his T-shirt. "Bend down a second."

Zac complied, crouching at the side of the bed.

Quick as a flash, Taylor leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of his head.

"Eww, Tay," moaned Zac.

"I thought you were getting into the slushy stuff?" teased Taylor, grinning mischievously.

"The moment passed…never to return again." Zac walked across the room and climbed back into his now-cold bed, wondering if it was something to do with the fact that he was in New York that he felt the urge to get up in the middle of the night and talk to his brothers. That made two nights in a row.

"Zac?"

"What?" muttered Zac, yawning again.

"Your hair needs washed. I can taste the grease."

"Eww!" Zac picked up his pillow and threw it, aiming blindly at Taylor.

"Oww," giggled Taylor.

"Night, Tay," mumbled Zac, grinning in satisfaction.

"Night," replied Taylor, closing his eyes and smiling to himself in the darkness, knowing that the warm, liquid feeling inside of him would ensure sweet dreams that night.

***

Give me a si-i-i-i-ign, hit me baby, one more time…

"Don't mind if I do," muttered Zac, slapping the radio alarm clock on his bedside table so hard it flew across the room, crashing into the radiator and somehow increasing the volume a couple of notches.

Oh, baby, baby, the reason I breathe is you…

"Oh, shut it, Britney!" yelled Taylor. "Zac, why the hell did you set the alarm anyway?"

"Don't look at me," grumbled Zac, tripping over his comforter as he got out of bed and switching off the radio, stopping Britney Spears mid-wail. "I didn't do it."

"Was it Ike, then?"

"Not guilty," came the muffled reply.

"Aww, great," moaned Taylor. "First night back in Tulsa and we get woken up at some ungodly hour by some stupid wailing Barbie doll!"

Zac looked indignant. "I hope you're not referring to my beautiful Britney baby!"

"Yeah, I was actually. But on second thoughts, it's an insult to Mattel."

"Hey!" Zac chucked one of his socks at his brother.

Taylor removed the filthy sock from his left eye and threw it back to him. "All they'd need to do is shrink her and they're got the Barbie for the Millennium. She's part plastic anyway."

"Hmm…" murmured Zac noncommittally, seemingly deep in thought.

"Bet you'd like one of them… So would I… Practice my voodoo."

Isaac snorted. "Oh, yeah, cos you're so into Wicca, Tay."

"I didn't say Wicca. I said voodoo. There's a difference."

"What is it, then?" jibed Isaac.

"How should I know?"

"Actually," spoke up Zac, interrupting the pointless argument between his brothers, "I wouldn't like a Britney doll. I'd rather have a me doll."

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess his honesty makes up for his lack of modesty."

Isaac sat up and stared at Zac. "A Zac Hanson Barbie doll? I can't think of anything scarier."

"Nah, not a Barbie. An Action Man." Then he grinned. "No, wait… A Zaction Man!"

Taylor laughed. "Ooh, yeah, I can just see it now... New from Mattel…Zaction Man! He shouts! He screams! He MMMBops! Comes complete with megaphone and thankfully - unlike the real thing - an off switch!"

Zac hugged his knees to his chest. "Just you wait. I'll invent Zaction Man. And guess what? Since you're being soooo supportive, I can model his two friends on you guys. Taylor the Gay Whore and Ike the Dyke."

"Shut up, Zac!" Taylor rolled over and pulled the duvet over his head, hoping to get an hour's extra sleep.

Zac bit his lower lip, smiling at his new idea for a business venture. He could just imagine it. Of course, the Zaction Man would talk. And he wouldn't just say, 'You're my best friend!' when you pulled the string. Nope, that was for girls and babies. His would say something really cool. What, exactly, he didn't know. But it would be cool, anyway.

And there would be about a million workers, all pitching in to create the toy to end all toys. Then a thought struck Zac. Maybe so many workers would be a bad idea. What was the other saying again?

"Tay?" he asked the dark room.

"What?" Taylor sounded sleepy.

"What’s right? You're given two bits of advice, which do you believe?"

"Like what?"

"Okay. Is it 'too many cooks spoil the broth' or is it 'many hands make light work'?"

"Zac…" groaned Taylor.

"And… Is it 'the early bird catches the worm' or is it 'only fools rush in'?"

Taylor moaned again. "Are you aware that it's seven thirty in the morning?"

"Yeah… And Taylor?" Zac grinned, knowing full well that he was bugging the hell out of his brother.

"What?!" snapped Taylor exasperatedly.

"Is yesterday tomorrow today?"

"That's it!" Taylor swung his legs round in his bed and sat up. He banged his feet down on the floor and stood up, untwisting his T-shirt. "I'm not listening to this. I'm getting some breakfast."

He was just pouring the water into his cup of coffee when Isaac joined him in the kitchen.

"Since when do you drink coffee?" asked Isaac, sounding surprised as he spooned some coffee into a cup of his own.

"Since I have Britney Spears waking me up at seven o'clock in the morning," replied Taylor sulkily, sitting down at the table and taking a huge bite out of an uncooked Pop Tart.

"Aren't you buttering it?" Isaac grinned lopsidedly. "Letting down the teenies who believe that's all you ever eat?"

Taylor smiled. "I don't want butter this morning. Sorry to disappoint all the fans, but…"

Isaac poured the water into his Simpsons mug and stirred it, taking a sip. "God, it's cold in here. Come on." He led the way through to the family room, switching on the electric fire.

"The tree's really pretty this year," commented Taylor, curling up in the armchair and watching the tree come to life as Isaac turned the lights on. The colored lights twinkled, making Taylor feel as festive as he had the other afternoon in New York City. The afternoon he'd found out that Gabbie was engaged.

Shaking his head, he rid his mind of the thought, telling himself to concentrate on nice things as Zac ambled into the room.

"You can't hide from me!" he crowed, running across to the couch and taking a flying leap onto it, landing next to Isaac.

"Jeez! Talk about making an entrance," muttered Isaac, raising his cup of coffee in an attempt to stop Zac from kicking it everywhere.

"I like people to know when I'm there." He grinned, jumping up as the phone rang. He grabbed the receiver, singing down the phone, "Hello, this is the Hanson Household, Zac speaking. May I just take this opportunity to wish you Happy Holidays!"

"What is wrong with him?" hissed Taylor.

Isaac shrugged, raising his eyebrows at Zac, who was practically buzzing with energy. He was so hyper, it was almost as if and aura of light were shimmering around him, like in the video for 'I Will Come To You'. Isaac smiled. It was good to see Zac happy again.

"Oh, hey, Rhia!" Zac turned and shot Isaac a look. "Ike? Well, yeah, he's here, but there's a bit of a problem… See, we put up the Christmas tree last night, but we couldn't find the fairy, so we stuck Ike up there instead…"

"Zac!" Isaac rolled his eyes. Maybe the hyper Zac wasn't so great after all.

"Yes, Rhia," continued Zac, "He does look really hot in a tutu. And his hair's in a little bun, like a ballerina and he has this cutesy little wand… In fact, it's the coolest fairy we've had since we turned Avery's Barbie into one that year. Remember that?"

"Zac, gimme the phone!" growled Isaac, jumping at him and knocking him down onto the armchair, on top of Taylor, who was practically doubled up with laughter.

Zac quickly turned round and pushed his face against Taylor's shaking stomach, his voice muffled. "Did you hear that? Man, he's getting angry up there… Mind you, must be painful having all those pine needles sticking up your butthole… Yeah, the tutu has a hole in it, we had to stick him to the tree somehow…"

"ZAC!" yelled Isaac. "Give me the freakin' phone!"

"Oh, hey, he wants to talk to you… I'll throw the phone up… Bye Rhia!"

"Thankyou!" muttered Isaac, taking the phone and stomping out into the cold kitchen, leaving his two younger brothers collapsed in giggles at his expense. "Hey, Rhia!"

"Hey, Twinkletoes… How's the weather up there?"

"Oh, very funny. What's up?"

"Not much… Just wondering what you were doing this afternoon."

Isaac smiled. "Nothing. Why?"

"I just need a chat."

"Are you okay?" asked Isaac, concern immediately creeping into his voice.

"What? Oh, yeah, sure. I'm great," replied Rhia distractedly. "Oh, hey… There's a party…"

"Cool! When and where?"

"Here. December 28th. We figured that we should have an adult-free Millennium party, before the one at your house on the 31st. Sound good?"

"Great," smiled Isaac. "Rhia, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, but can you come over?"

"Now?"

"No, no, I have to go grocery shopping. How about at say, eleven thirty?"

"Diet Coke break?" joked Isaac.

"Now who's the wise guy?" demanded Rhia.

"Ooh la la say-"

"You're hilarious," intoned Rhia, but Isaac could tell she was trying not to laugh. "Look, I'll see you later?"

"Sure…oh, I think I hear the mailman…"

"Go get your letters then. See ya." There was a click as Rhia disappeared.

Sighing, Isaac hung up the phone and jammed his feet into a pair of old tennis shoes. He pulled on a fleece jacket and ran out into the freezing cold to get the mail from the box.

Picking up the pile of envelopes, he jogged back to the house, leafing through them. A Christmas catalog -a little too late, in Isaac's opinion; a letter for his Mom from their aunt in Kansas; a couple of brown envelopes addressed to their father; a sachet of a new type of shampoo that was supposed to leave your hair incredibly shiny; a letter for Jessica from her penfriend in England and something for Taylor.

Isaac examined the lilac colored, flowery envelope. It was definitely a girl's handwriting, all loopy and delicate; it practically screamed "I'm a girl!" or, if not, "I'm a very effeminate male!" Besides, the 'i's were dotted with hearts and Isaac knew of not one single person - male or female - who did that. Except maybe excluding Jessica, when she sent them Valentines, but he doubted that she would be sending Taylor a Valentine through the mail in December, no matter how weird she was sometimes.

His brow furrowed, he stood on the porch, trying to puzzle out who it might be from. The envelope was lightly scented and there was something in the envelope; it was too heavy for just a letter. There was no return address, which only added to the mystery. Maybe it was a fan, but they usually only sent letters and gifts through MOE. So who was it from? Oh, well, only one way to find out, thought Isaac, shrugging his shoulders and walking back into the warm house, the cold air steaming from his clothes as he walked back into the kitchen.

Somehow, in the space of two minutes, the entire family had appeared in the kitchen. His mom stood by the toaster, buttering piles of white toast and his dad stood at the stove, playing a frying pan full of pancake batter over the heat. Taylor sat at the kitchen table, doodling on a piece of paper; Jessica stood behind him, braiding a little part of his hair. Zac sat on the other side of the table with Mackenzie on his knee, reading him the back of the box of Cap'n Crunch cereal, while Avery spooned it into her mouth like she hadn't seen food in weeks. Zoë was sitting on the kitchen floor, playing happily with one of Zac's old Tonka trucks, completely oblivious to all the commotion going on around her.

"Want some pancakes, Ike?" asked Mr Hanson, tossing one up into the air and catching it expertly back in the frying pan. "They're blueberry!" he added, waving the pan enticingly under Isaac's nose.

The sweet smell made Isaac's stomach growl in hunger. "Pancakes would be great."

"Anything interesting in the mail, honey?" asked Mrs Hanson, snatching another round of toast from the toaster before her fingers burnt.

"Uh, Jess, you got a letter from Carolyn." He handed the white envelope to his sister, who instantly dropped Taylor's hair and perched on the seat next to him, ripping open her letter. "Mom, Auntie Sheryl wrote to you. Bills for you, Dad."

"Oh, gee, thanks, Ike!" grinned Mr Hanson, motioning for his oldest son to put the brown envelopes on the table.

"And Tay…this came for you." He threw the lilac letter at Taylor.

Taylor picked it up, turning it over and examining both sides. "Wonder who it's from," he mused, slitting the top of the envelope open with his fingernail and taking out the sheet of notepaper.

Instantly, his face paled. His eyes glazed over with tears and he began to shake. "No," he whispered.

"Tay?" asked Mrs Hanson, putting down her knife and walking over to her son.

"No," he whispered again, pushing his chair back from the table and ignoring it as it clattered over and he ran from the room.

Everyone sat in silence, shocked by Taylor's abrupt departure. The only noises were the metal chair rattling off the tiled floor and Tay's retreating footsteps as he thundered upstairs, a loud bang sounding as he slammed the door.

"What was all that about?" asked Mr Hanson.

Isaac didn't answer, spotting something lying on the table where Taylor had opened the letter. He picked it up, a silver cross, threaded onto a black rope. Taylor's welfare charm. He'd given it to Gabbie, Ike knew that much. "Oh, no…" he muttered, his heart sinking. Just what was he going to do with his brother this time?

Credit for music goes to:
Westlife - "Flying Wihout Wings"
Britney Spears - "Baby One More Time"
and
Smash Mouth - "All Star" (well, kinda...)

Chapter 16
"Is Yesterday Tomorrow Today" Index
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