Chapter Four
by Hayley, 2002

It's not what you thought
when you first began it.
You got what you want,
now you can hardly stand it.
--Aimee Mann "Wise Up"

*JANUARY*

Yeeeeaaahh. Awkward doesn't even begin to describe this. Taylor's wound so tight I'm afraid that if I even speak to him, he'll scream and jump ten feet before running out of the theatre, leaving a Taylor-shaped hole in the wall. Jesus, he's got a white-knuckle grip on the armrests. You'd think we were in a nose-diving plane rather than a theatre.

This is really weird. Taylor embarrasses easily but he's usually pretty good at covering it up from his years in the spotlight. So it's gotta be big for him to be this nervous. And there's only one thing I can think of that would be big enough.

He knows.

I'm gonna wring Zac's neck.

The audience laughed at something David Spade did on the screen and Taylor forced out a horribly fake-sounding laugh a minute too late. Very smooth, Hanson boy.

Well, I haven't been able to concentrate on the movie thus far, so let's try a little experiment, shall we?

I casually put my elbow on the armrest until it grazed Taylor's arm.

He ripped his hands off the armrests faster than the human eye can see. I sighed audibly. This is fucking ridiculous. I stood abruptly, grabbed Taylor's arm, ignoring his flinch, and dragged him out of the theatre.

"Jesus, January, what's your problem?!" he said nastily, shaking his arm free.

"Me?! You've gotta be fucking kidding me! You're the one with the problem! You're the one that's acting like a twitchy version of Rainman and don't think that I don't know why you're acting like this!"

Crickets in the movie theatre. Those little bastards follow us everywhere.

I looked around and saw a dozen theatre employees staring at us, open-mouthed. Perhaps this isn't the best place to discuss the sex life of a celebrity. I grabbed Taylor's arm again and dragged him out to the parking lot.

He violently yanked his arm away, causing me to nearly lose my balance. I stared at him in shock.

"Would you quit dragging me around?! You're being a real bitch tonight!"

"Would you quit trying to pick a fight?!"

He stepped back in surprise.

"I know what you're doing, Taylor. You're picking a fight, trying to piss me off, to avoid actually talking about this." I sighed. "You do it all the time, Taylor. To avoid confrontation."

He quickly put on a mask of bitterness. "Oh, you know me so well, do you?"

"Yes", I replied firmly. "I do. Isaac is purposefully quiet and easygoing so that he never has confrontations, and Zac will talk if you drag it out of him, but you...you pick meaningless fights to avoid talking about real things." He looked down, ashamed at being found out. "And it hurts. It gets harder and harder each time to tell myself that you don't actually mean the mean things you say."

I waited for a response but of course he still wouldn't talk. Fuck, this is frustrating.

"Taylor, why can't you just talk to me? Tell me what's wrong! I mean...I have an idea of what's bothering you...but I don't know exactly why you...have a problem with it. Will you tell me why?"

He hesitated but finally said "I can't", while still avoiding my eyes.

"Jesus, Taylor!" I said, exasperated. "What the hell kind of relationship do we have if you can't even talk to me?!"

His head snapped up at that and he looked at me oddly. I struck a nerve. Shit, what was it exactly about what I said that struck a nerve?

"Look, I'm gonna walk home, okay? I just..." He sighed and tossed me his keys. "You drive my car home, okay? I'll get my keys from you later."

He turned and began walking before I could say anything. Great. I hate driving his car.

"Zachary!!"

I slammed the Hansons' front door behind me and stormed into the house.

"Zachary Walker Hanson!!" I looked to the left. "Hi, Mrs. Hanson. Mr. Hanson." They nodded hello. The best thing about them being the parents of seven kids is that nothing shocks them anymore.

"Zachary!" I ran upstairs and threw open the door to Zac's room. Empty. I probably shouldn't have announced my arrival so shrilly. Wait...is that breathing coming from the closet? I flung open the closet door. And rolled my eyes.

"Jesus, Zac. Cowering on the floor of your closet? Am I really that scary?"

Zac crawled out of the shoes and dirty laundry. "Can't help it. Years of conditioning. When someone calls me Zachary, I hide."

"So you know I'm pissed off then?"

"Uh. Yeah." He fidgeted nervously and gestured to the closet. "Hey, look. I just came out of the closet. Alert the media!" He let out a nervous chuckle.

"While any other time I would be all over that joke, right now I'm a bit pissed and I want some answers, pal."

Zac sighed in defeat. "Fine. Wait, where's Tay?"

"He's walking home. But you know him, he'll make a Sunday stroll out of it."

"Why is he walking?" Zac flopped down on the bed. "You kick him out of the car?"

"No." I flopped down next to him. "We had a fight. He wanted to walk."

"What about?"

"Oh gee, I wonder, Zac." I laid on the sarcasm real thick and felt him cringe next to me. "Hmmm, was it about the merits of David Spade films? World peace? The ecomony, perhaps? Or do you think maybe it had something to do with the fact that you and I were fucking not more than five hours ago?!"

"Okay, I'm gonna go ahead and get you to say that a little bit louder 'cause I'm not quite sure my parents heard you!"

"Sorry."

"So, what, you told him?"

"No, you did!"

"I didn't, I swear!"

"Okay, that defense came a little too quick there, Zac."

He sighed. "He figured it out. He was grilling me about where I was this afternoon and I couldn't think of a lie."

"You probably didn't even try", I muttered.

"Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He raised himself up on his elbows.

"It means you probably couldn't wait for him to find out, to brag or something."

Zac's eyes turned stony. "That's not fair. I wouldn't do that and you know it." He dropped back down. "What are you trying to do, January? You're starting an argument like Tay does."

Gah. I am, aren't I?

"I'm sorry, Zac. He just got to me."

"What did he say?"

"He was acting weird in the movie, all nervous. And I figured he probably knew, so I called him on it. He tried picking a fight but I wasn't having it. I asked him what his problem was and he didn't answer, just walked away."

Zac nodded. "Okay. So?"

"What do you mean, so? So what's his problem?"

"What do you think it is?"

"I'm asking you, Freud."

"Why is this bothering you so much?"

What the hell is up with Zac, psychoanalyst extraordinaire?!

"Shit, Zac, of course it would bother me! He's my friend, I don't want this to fuck things up."

"It's too late for second thoughts and you know it."

"I didn't mean second thoughts, I just mean that I'm worried."

"Why?"

"Why?! Because he's my friend, Zac!"

"And?"

"And what?! What are you getting at?!"

Suddenly, Taylor opened the door, saying "Zac, I need to talk to you." He stopped short as Zac and I both sprang up from our reclined position on the bed. "Oh. God." He blinked once and retreated, shutting the door behind him.

"Shit!" Zac dropped back down on the bed. "Now he's got the wrong idea, this fucks things up even worse!" He covered his face with his hands and screamed into them.

I pounded my fist on the bed. "What the hell is going on?!"

Zac just shook his head and sighed. He wouldn't answer me.

*TAYLOR*

Okay, so it's been almost a week since I caught January and Zac in bed. As hard as I tried to avoid Zac, he'd still cornered me and assured me that nothing had been going on, that January had only been talking to him about me.

I still wasn't very assured.

I'd practically locked myself in the studio, telling everyone I was writing, but I spent most of my time in there with my head on the piano or doing useless things like trying to play Chopsticks with my toes.

Zac finally dragged me out of the studio, rambling about mending bridges or something. Isaac stood by quietly with an odd look on his face. Isaac's unreadable unless he wants you to see what he's thinking.

So here I am. Standing on her front porch. To patch things up, I suppose. I don't know what the hell to say. 'Hey, you sleeping with my brothers kinda bugs me now 'cause I think I like you. Like, like-like you.' Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. I don't even know if that's what it is. Fuck. Stupid teenage angst. 90210 reruns and afterschool specials did not cover this particular situation.

"Are you ever planning on coming in?"

You ever hear that phrase 'jumped out of my skin' and thought it was a load of crap? Well, I just did it. Jumped out of my skin. Very smooth. Oh, if the infatuated teenies could see me now.

I spun around to face her. Great. She already has a defensive look on her face.

"Uh, hey." That's always a good opener.

"What." She said it flatly, so it didn't even sound like a question.

"Um...I thought I'd...see how you...are?"

"I'm okay." Ouch, stilly icy. "Anything else? 'Cause Slumber Party Massacre is on in about five minutes."

I laughed. "Sweet. Remember the first time we saw it? Isaac kept covering Zac's eyes during the nudity and afterwards we all insisted on sleeping in one bed with the light on?"

She fought to suppress a smile. Oh yeah, she's still mad at me.

"I'm sorry", I blurted. "Sorry for being such a dick the other night."

She seemed to think it over for a minute. "Okay." She opened the door. "Wanna watch the movie with me?"

My heart sank a little. So we aren't going to talk about it. I was kinda hoping she would ask me why I was such a jerk before and maybe in explaining it to her, I could explain it to myself. But I guess that's not the way we're going to play it. We're gonna go on same as always, like nothing happened.

And she'll sleep with Isaac.

And I'll wait for my turn.

"Sure", I said, forcing a smile. "But don't try to cover my eyes during the nudity."

*ISAAC*

There's something disturbing about me doing Lamaze breathing exercises on January's front porch. I can't help it, I'm nervous. I didn't think I would be. I want this. I think I've just got a little performance anxiety. Blech, I haven't had stage fright in years. But I have something to compete against here. Zac. She'll be comparing me to him. Shit, what if he was really good? I'll be such a letdown. Forty years from now she'll be thinking 'Man, Zac Hanson was amazing in bed. Isaac? Well. I didn't fall asleep.'

Great, now I'm psyching myself out. Okay, let's get the thoughts of my brother having sex out of my head. Yikes. I can do this. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I can do this.

All right, into the house. Where is she? Duh, bedroom. Here we go. Maybe I should say a little prayer for this to go well. Ew. No. That's just wrong. Fuck it, let's just go. I pushed open her bedroom door to find her lying on her bed, staring right at me.

"So how long did you stand on the porch?"

"Uh..."

"I think Zac stood out there for a good five minutes."

I flinched at the mention of my brother's name. Insecurities coming back. She noticed.

"Sorry. I guess mentioning...him...isn't a very good idea at this particular moment."

I nodded. I didn't want to dwell on Zac.

So, like...is she expecting me to make the first move? I took a hesitant step towards the bed. She got up, startled.

"No, not here. Uh...." Now she looked embarrassed. "I just thought it would be weird...I mean, I have to sleep in this bed every night and the...memories...it would just be weird. So, um. Guest room."

She led me into the guest room and stood by the bed. I hovered awkwardly near the door.

"How are you...feeling about this?" she asked tentatively.

"Good", I replied honestly. "I really want to do this."

"I know, Isaac." Simple words, but they spoke volumes. She seems to understand why I want this so bad.

I smiled. "You always call me Isaac. I've never heard you once call me Ike in the past four years. No one else calls me Isaac unless they're mad at me, but you always do."

"Oh God." She looked startled. "Do you not want me to? You never said anything--"

"No no, I like it."

She smiled. "It suits you." She held out her hand. "Come here, Isaac."

Oh man. This is it. I pushed away any guilty feelings about Taylor and swallowed my nervousness, and took her hand.