Scott

"Um - Tay - how old are you?"

"Sixteen," he said.

"Me, too," I smiled softly. "Freshly, though."

"Yeah, same."

"When?"

"March fourteenth," he told me, looking at me briefly.

"You're kidding," I said.

"Don't tell me yours is the fourteenth, too!!"

"No, but it is in March . . . March thirtieth. You're older than me."

"Yeah, by like two weeks or something," he chuckled.

"Wow, we have a lot in common," I realized.

"I know, Zac keeps telling me that you're my twin," Taylor smiled, his eyes lingering on my face. Once our eyes met, we both looked away.

"Maybe we are twins," I suggested. "That would be weird. I already have triplets in my family."

"I already have seven kids in my family," he chuckled.

"God, guys, get in the pool before we drag you in!!" Zac practically screamed from in the pool, where the Jolt had obviously hit his system.

"Let's splash 'em," I said, grinning evilly, and Tay nodded, mirroring the grin. I tore my shirt up over my head, dropped it aside, and we both ran for the pool and leapt in.

The lukewarm pool water was a relief to the hot night California air, and I stayed underwater and swam around for a bit in the deep end before I came up for air.

"I think you knocked like half the water out of the pool, guys!" Dave was laughing.

"They're both skinny as hell, you wouldn't think they'd displace that much water!" Zac teased us.

"Ha ha," Tay laughed sarcastically. Trails of water ran down his face, and his rat tail was hanging over his shoulder again. He tried to smooth his hair down, and exposed a small trace of light brown hair underneath his arm. His lean muscle was becoming obvious in the water.

"I wish this place had a slide or something!" Clint said wistfully. Bob was standing on his hands under water, so only his feet were sticking up out of the water, and a good expanse of calf.

Zac took a gulp of air and disappeared under water. I felt a little playful, too.

"Hey, Tay!"

I leapt on his back and dunked him under water. His legs stopped me from pushing him any further down, and he shot back up. I clung to him, but slip-slided around on his wet skin. He gasped for air.

"This means war, Scott!"

He reached behind him with one arm and locked me in a choke hold on his shoulder. I took a breath before he bent over and dunked my face in the water. I felt the part of my body that wasn't under water flail, and Taylor flipped me over his shoulder and climbed on me to keep me under water. I burst out laughing under water, losing all my air. I couldn't help it. I'd forgotten what it was like to have fun with friends, I hadn't done it in so long, and now I was enjoying myself so much that I wished the night would never end.

I locked my arms around his middle and pulled him down with me. We began rolling around in the water, wrestling. Every time my head would surface, I realized that everyone was yelling and screaming with laughter and betting who would win. Tay and I meanwhile continued grasping and pulling and shoving at each other in a brutal but fun and friendly match. After a minute of struggling, we both had to have air, and let each other go.

Taylor

"It's Scott 'n' Tay Wars!" Zac announced.

"Water Wars!" said Bob.

"Obi-Wan Kenaqua, Luke Skywater, and Han Hydro!" Ike agreed. The Moffatts really got a kick out of that one, and we all shouted and swam and splashed around for about another fifteen minutes before Ike got a page that our pizzas were here.

They had ordered four pizzas, a pepperoni, a veggie, a sausage, anchovy, and green pepper, and a Canadian bacon and pineapple one. Scott and I took up the couch and filled our plates with one slice of each, both of us knowing that we were going to have seconds. Ike started talking to dad about what we were going to do tomorrow.

"I think we're going to drop by Steve Lironi's and talk to him," Dad said, after swallowing nearly a half a piece of the hot, moist pizza. I had to admit that it was wonderful to stuff my face with the stuff after I hadn't for a long time. Scott looked grateful for the cheesy substinance, too.

"Cool," I remarked.

"Glen Ballard?! You got Glen Ballard on your record?" Zac squawked, holding a copy of the Moffatts' CD and looking at the back.

"Yep, Glen is awesome," Bob was saying to Zac.

"He worked on Alanis Morissette's album, right?" Zac was asking.

"Yeah, he really helped us in the studio," Clint said.

"It makes me itchy to get back in the studio! Maybe you can come play bass for us," Zac grinned at Clint. Clint just grinned back.

"Yeah, our sister Jess just won't play bass for us," Ike said before filling his mouth with his third slice already.

"Oh, I think the fans would just dig that," Dave laughed.

"Most of them are Jess's age anyway," I laughed.

"TAY!" Zac, Ike, and my dad all moaned.

"Just kidding, we have some gay guys, too," I giggled, and then stuck a piece of pizza in my mouth before I could open it again.

Zac rolled his eyes at me. Don't act like you don't like that fact, he seemed to be telling me with the expression on his face. My eyes drifted away from Zac to the food on my plate, and I let myself out of the conversation.

I hate it when he acts like I'm gay, I thought bitterly, deciding to busy myself picking off all the anchovies, even though I didn't mind them. I didn't even say anything. I remembered on Howie Mandel, before we went out, Zac was hounding me about my shirt. He kept saying it looked more like women's lingerie and he wouldn't be caught dead wearing it if he were me and that I shouldn't forget my rainbow flag to wave around during "Gimmie Some Lovin'." For about a year now, Zac had made dozens of cracks about the way I talked or the lisp I had before I got rid of my retainer or the way I stood, or my fashion or something. Zac was really the one that needed a ticket and a stern warning from the fashion police, if you ask me, what with those yellow pants and yellow shoes, and camo pants with Gucci sweaters.

Scott

I finished my pizza and sat back, putting my T-shirt back on. I decided that I needed a good shower before the night was over because of my hair was so full of chlorine. I caught sight of Tay, who was sitting beside me staring blankly at his pizza and picking at an anchovy. I watched him for a sec to see if he would snap out of it, but he didn't. He just kept staring.

I laughed a little, and waved my hand in front of his face. He just sat there.

"Umm, Tay?" I snickered, and poked my finger into his shoulder.

"Whuh?" Taylor looked at me. "What?"

"You were zoned, dude, are you okay?" I asked him, smiling.

Taylor sat there for a minute, his eyes slipping back into a blank stare. "Oh!" he jumped. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

"Is it hard for you?"

We both laughed a little.

"No, I was just thinking about . . . everything," he told me, sliding his teeth over the left corner of his mouth and chewing on his lip a little.

I nodded. "Just checking. You looked a little distraught or something."

"I am. I guess. I might have a little jet lag. We've been in New York for two weeks and I think I just adjusted to the schedule. It's only nine-thirty here and I'm sorta wiped out."

"I hear ya," I replied. "I'm about to just conk out right here and now. Face first, into my pizza."

We laughed again. I left Taylor alone with his thoughts, seeing as how he'd returned to them so quickly. His mind must have been loaded with thoughts of the new album he'd said they were working on. My own thoughts turned to our performance at Oakhurst Mall in Yorba Linda, which was a little suburb of Los Angeles. My mind zapped. I wondered if we could invite the Hansons. Then, I felt disappointed, recalling that Walker had said something about visiting some guy tomorrow about the album. Plus, thrusting the Hansons into a group of screaming, rabid teenyboppers at the mall seemed not to be the wisest decision.

"Anyone want the last slice of Canadian bacon and pineapple?" my dad asked.

"I do," I piped. Some feeling in my stomach needed to be remedied. It might have been hunger, it might have been excitement at the appearance, it might have been disappointment about not inviting my new friends. Either way, that pizza was destined to take the place of that feeling.

Dad handed it to me and laughed.

"It looks like Taylor's been knocked out!"

Everyone looked at Tay. Sure enough, he'd leaned his head back on the arm of the couch and had fallen asleep - and in a very uncomfortable position, at that. He didn't even have a shoes or shirt on, just his swim trunks and a towel.

"We'll wake him before we leave," Walker said. "Let him sleep for now."

"I thought he looked a little spacey a few minutes ago," Clint remarked. "I thought he was tripping or something!"

"Tripping out on all that garlic," Zac said, burping. We all giggled like a bunch of immature school boys at Zac's flatulence.

"No sense in waking the poor kid! Let him stay on the couch for the night. We can return him to you in the morning," my Dad suggested.

"Oh, no-" Mr. Hanson began.

"Yeah, please? It'll be cool," I piped, even though all the pizza in my mouth fell out.

"Yeah, Dad, please?! We can make an exchange!! Taylor for a Moffatt!! Please?!" Zac looked absolutely ecstatic to be rid of his brother. Walker looked ready to fold, smiling at his son's excitement.

Bob

"Sure, I guess that would be all right," he nodded. "Seeing as how we are in the same hotel, and everything. As long as Tay gets up before eleven."

"Oh, well, we're doing a mall appearance at nine-thirty, so he'll have to be up before then!" Clint burst in.

"Great!" said Tay's dad. "Well, boys, any of you wanna come crash in the Hanson pad?"

"He makes it sound so appealing," Isaac said, rolling his eyes.

"Somebody come! Please?" Zac was begging. Scott shook his head. Scott was staying put. Even if he wasn't awake for it, he was having a friend stay over, and so he was staying where he was. He looked absolutely tickled to death about having his friend stay over with us. Scott's so boring sometimes - I mean, Taylor was asleep!

"Um, I'll come!" Clint and Dave said in unison. My eyebrows perked, enthralled at the prospect of having a bed all to myself, but Clint turned to Dave and said, "No, you go. I'll stay and baby-sit Dad."

Zac, Clint, Dave, and I giggled. Zac and Dave hopped up.

"I brought my GameBoyColors, wanna hook 'em up and play some Pokémon?" Zac eagerly asked Dave.

"Yeah, sure," Dave said, just as eagerly.

"Well, Frank, thanks a lot for inviting Tay to stay. We'd better get back to our room, call their mom, and say we got here okay," Walker said, standing up and offering my dad his hand yet again to shake. They sure were shake-friendly. Hehe. My dad vigorously shook Walker's hand.

"Same here. Sheila's probably going mad wondering where we are. Thanks for coming, and Tay's no problem, that's for sure. He won't wake up once, I bet!"

Walker grinned. Unlike all of his very blond sons, he had brown hair.

"Well, Ike, Zac, and surrogate-son Dave, let's go back to the Hanson Suite."

We all laughed, having been filled-in on that situation.

Dave grabbed his backpack and the sweat-pants he usually slept in and waved bye to us all as he and the Hansons departed.

"Bye, Clint, bye, Bob, bye, Scott!" Ike said.

Zac turned around. "If Tay snores, just pelt him with a magazine or something!"

I laughed. "We know how to handle that in this family!"

Walker also added, "We'll send up some clothes for Tay."

Scott waved his hand. "That's okay! He can borrow some of mine. We're like the exact same size."

Walker nodded, but said, "Well, see you in the morning, then!"

Then, they were gone.

"Ah . . ." Dad leaned back in his chair. "It's like a hundred decibels quieter in here now. I thought only my sons were loud . . ."

"AND WE ARE!" I said rather loudly. I added, just as loudly, "I CLAIM SHOWER FIRST!"

We all looked at Taylor to see if my loud voice caused him to stir; no such notion. Tay was out.

"Okay, I'm going to go to bed already," Clint yawned. "I claim it first thing in the morning."

"And I claim it after you," Dad said.

"Okay, I claim it after Bob," Scott said.

"Damn right," I said, sneaking in a curse word in hopes nobody would say "language" at me, and went into the bathroom. Oooh, this one was sorta art-decoish, with black and white tile and a red shower curtain that matched the red of the comforters of the bed and red trim of the room.

Dad scoffed as he picked up the phone to call our step-mom, his wife Sheila. "And Sheila said we couldn't survive without a woman to decide these things for us."