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Aside from the fact that they were disgustingly close friends when we were kids, Lizzie broke the fundamental law of friendship in fourth class when she agreed to be my brother’s girlfriend.
It didn’t matter to me that it was totally innocent. In my eyes, it was a crime against girl code and had resulted in us not speaking for three whole weeks.
Never one to hold a grudge, I’d given in and resumed my post of being her friend, while I secretly counted down the days until they broke up and I got my friend back.
I had never admitted it at the time, and never would, but a lot of my anger was caused by a hefty dollop of jealousy. Not so much because Lizzie was going out with my brother. But because he had asked her, when Gerard never asked me. Hugh was Lizzie’s childhood sweetheart and Gerard was mine. Lizzie got a shot with hers, and I didn’t.
“The Hizzie era was like a million years ago.” Flopping down on the couch beside him, I threw my legs over his lap and sighed. “We’re in the Hatie era now.”
“The Hatie era.” Gerard threw his head back and howled with laughter. “Oh, Claire-Bear, that sounds fucking terrible.”
“What?” I slapped at his arm. “It’s better than the Kughie era.”
“Kughie!” The term only caused Gerard to laugh louder. “I can’t… I can’t…”
“Oh, shag off, Gibs.” Hugh chuckled, tension easing from his shoulders. “Like yours is so much better.”
“Yeah,” Katie snickered in agreement. “Clibsie.”
“Whatever lad, I’d take Clibsie any day over Kughie.”
“Is that so, Glaire?”
Gerard choked out another laugh. “Glaire’s still better than Hatie.”
“Team Clibsie for the win,” I teased, fist-bumping Gerard. “Unlucky, guys.”
“Okay, Team Clibsie,” Katie giggled. “Care to put your money where your mouth is and find out who the superior duo is?”
“My money’s upstairs,” Gerard replied solemnly. “Walking around on four legs.”
“I was joking,” she chuckled, clearing off the coffee table. “Let’s play a game. Team Clibsie versus Team Hatie.”
“Hatie,” Gerard snorted.
“How about losers clean the kitchen after takeaway night,” she offered with a smirk. “Every Saturday night for a month.”
“Make it two months, and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Gerard counter-negotiated, attention piqued.
“Two months it is,” she challenged. “Do you accept?”
“Oh, it’s on like Donkey Kong,” Gerard replied, fully invested now. “You’re going down, Hatie.”
“What kind of game?” I asked, curious.
“What about Scrabble?” Katie offered. “You guys have a board, right?”
“Phone another friend there,” Gerard shot back with a big fat thumb’s own. “Because it’s a no deal from me.”
“Monopoly?”
“No, I can’t be dealing with any board games with words on them.”
“Poker?”
His eyes lit up with mischief. “Strip poker!”
“Ew, Gerard!” I balked. “Gross.”
