Once I was you

Chapter one - You better not bet I bet

Biff Alan Hooper, high-school football-pro and best friend with the infamous Joe Hardy, bit into his steaming slice of "Prito's special". It was commonly known among the pupils of Bayport High that of all pizzas in the United States of America, this one was the best.

"Enjoying your beans?" A mischievous grin crept onto the muscular boy's face. Frank Hardy, seated on the other side of the small restaurant-table, smiled good-naturally. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. And for the record, it is not beans. It is an Ahi Tuna Poke salad with Teriyaki chicken, citrus fennel, Sesame, Quinoa, green beans…"

"Ah, there we have it. Green beans. I knew I was right." Biff smacked his tongue in satisfaction. "Honestly, though, I feel a little lonely eating this wonderful pizza all by myself. Not that I complain..."

"You, complain?!" Frank pointed his knife at his friend's nose. "My dear Biff, you better not complain about anything, least of all loneliness. I eat this delicious salad in utter loneliness every single Friday afternoon! This is my first glimpse into the world of equality!"

Though the words were uttered jokingly, it was a small bit of truth in them. This was actually the first time a Friday-order at Pritos' had consisted of equal amounts of salad and pizza. This was, however, also the first time the Friday-gathering had restricted to Biff Alan Hooper and Frank Hardy.

"Joe is a lucky fellow." More than a hint of jealousy could be spotted in Biff's voice. "And Tony and Phil too."

Frank nodded. "Yeah, I gotta say I know a bit more than I want to about that football-camp in Massachusetts. Joe has acting all crazy about it for weeks."

Biff stared dreamingly at the tomato on his fork. "You can't blame a guy for that. I would have loved to go too…"

"Hey, it's okay. I am sure you will be able to go next year." Frank patted his friend's back. Deciding it would be better to speak about something else, he changed subject. "Wonder how Phil and Tony are holding up at their camping? And Cal and Van? I am pretty sure they have bought half of New York by now." Frank's warm hazel-eyes softened at the mention of his girlfriend, Callie. Biff smiled too. "Yeah, I guess they have. Tony and Phil are probably fine too. But I am telling you this: I will miss Joe at football-practice."

A teasing sparkle lit up Frank's eyes. "I am staring to wonder if you want me to be Joe's twin! I am offended, Mr. Hooper! Perhaps I should challenge you to a duel or something?"

Biff didn't seem to take much notice of Frank's declaration on war. Instead he started laughing. "You, Joe's twin? I know you are brothers and all, but it's less difference between a mouse and an elephant than it is between the two of you."

Once again, Frank pointed his nose at the ceiling, attempting to look offended. "And may I ask whom is whom? I am not sure whether I would prefer being called an elephant or a mouse…"

Biff nonchalantly swallowed a bite cold cheese. "Of course you are the mouse, Frank! You couldn't possibly imagine Joe being that, could you?"

To the boy's surprise, Frank's face became serious. "Actually, I could. I mean, of course I couldn't imagine Joe being a mouse, but I most definitely can imagine how Joe would look being me. Playing the role as me, I mean."

"Care to explain?" Biff inquired curiously. Frank put up a serious expression and nodded. "Okay, here's the thing: Some time ago, me and Joe made a bet. He swore he could act like me for a week. Speak the same way as me, eat the same, do the same, yeah, literally everything. I thought no one really would notice any difference, but it was almost scary how accurate it became. I most certainly didn't need a mirror when he was anywhere near me!"

"What happened?" Biff leaned closer to Frank. This story he had never heard. Frank stabbed a corn onto his fork. After chewing on it for a suspiciously long time, he answered: "Obviously, he started speaking a great deal less. So… uhm… I mean, mum, dad and aunt Gertrude started to worry about him. They kept asking him if everything was okay. If he was bullied and stuff. He only frowned at them and assured he was okay in the calmest of manner, which of course didn't help much.

One day, after he had chosen a green, healthy salad over his favorite cheeseburger, aunt Gertrude became certain he was ill. "The boy is sick!" she screamed. It sounded like she had just solved an impossibly mystery. The only problem was that mum and dad believed she was right. Ignoring Joe's unusually polite objections, they took him to the doctor. I tried to get them from it too, but they only told me that Joey was sick and that they needed to help him. They thought I were afraid of the doctor or something."

"Wait a minute." Biff interrupted. "How old were you ecaxtely?" Frank blushed. "Uhm, six. I mean, I was six. Joe was five."

The fact that Biff started laughing so hard he had to wipe away tears didn't help Frank's face return to its normal color. "Are you… *laughter*… are you saying that you and Joe… *more laughter*… did this at age… *half muffled laughter beneath a hoodie*… five?! Joey… *yet another fit of laughter*… did this at age five?!"

Frank snorted. "You have an excellent memory, Mr. Alan Hooper. Yes, that was exactly what I said. So, do you want me to continue the story, or might I as well end it right there?"

"No, no!" Biff furiously wiped away the tears of laughter running down his cheeks. "Please, my dear, dear friend, don't torture me! Tell me the rest!" Frank, knowing Biff's struggle to maintain a close to normal expression was sincere, if unsuccessful, nodded gallantly. "Since you absolutely insist, Mr. Hooper, I will do as you ask."

Wiping away his solemn expression, Frank continued his story. "As I told you, Joe went to the doctor. Since aunt Gertrude insisted on coming along, they had to bring me as well. I remember the doctor as a very old, very serious and very scary man. The small, black glasses hiding his ash-grey eyes didn't make him look any less terrifying. In the least six-year-old me didn't think so.

Five-year-old Joe, however, knew six-year-olds were extremely brave. Gritting his teeth, he stuck out his hand and politely presented himself. "Hi, my name is Joey". I still remember the look of pure seriousness in his eyes. The doctor looked at him with surprise, and shook his hand in return. After hearing what was wrong with him, he recommended my parents to get Joe to a psychologist. I was terrified!

Obviously, I was not the only one. Mum freaked out, dad clenched and unclenched his jaw until I could hear something click in there, and aunt Gertrude went ash grey. But Joe? He only turned to all of us with the same precocious expression pasted to his face. "I'm gonna be all right. Nuthing's wrong with me. Promise." Only I knew he was right.

As soon as we got home, I demanded to speak to him. But you know Joe; competitiveness is his middle name. He refused to tell mum and dad what was going on. "A bet is a bet", he said, "and I will win it!" I was far too scared to tell dad myself.

Next day, Joe was having an appointment with the psychologist. I wasn't there, but I know the man said that the reason for Joe's strange behavior might have something to do with intellect. He believed Joe had an extremely high IQ, which resulted in him acting different than other children. The only mystery was that it had occurred so suddenly. In any case, he assured there was nothing to worry about.

I, however, was out of my mind. If they believed something was wrong with "the new Joe", that only meant there was something wrong with me! I didn't quite understand what it was all about, but I did get that Joe was too smart.

As you know, I was a first grader at the time. Next day, first thing I did, was to fail my math-test totally – intentionally. I knew all the answers, so I felt a little guilty. For me, this was like lying to my parents and teachers by telling them "I am normal» when in fact, there was something severely wrong with my intellect. Whatever that meant." Frank shrugged his shoulders, too absorbed in his story to notice how Biff desperately tried to muffle his laughter. Taking a sip of water, Frank continued.

"As you might predict, my first and throughout failure didn't settle my parent's nerves. Not only did Joe suddenly become a genius, but I transformed into an idiot as well! They didn't dare to take me to the physiologist as they did with Joe; after all, it was just an unimportant test from a first grader. Dad had a nice, long conversation with me, though. He told me that no matter what grades I got on my tests; the most important thing was that I was happy. Once again, he started his "are you okay?-interrogation". Was I bullied at school? Was it hard to concentrate? Didn't I have friends?

I shook my head to all his questions, silently kicking myself for still being too "intellectual". I had to change something before he sent me to a mental facility.

So, I failed the next test too. And the next. And… the next. I started asking all kind of silly questions. "Why is the moon a yellow piece of cheese"-kind of things. Joe stayed completely serious during my performance, only shaking his head, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brow. Poor mom believed we had gone crazy. Perhaps we had. I am still questioning myself to this very day.

Anyway, this didn't last forever. Seven days after Joe's sudden transformation, the bet was over. Ruffling his hair into a giant, yellow-curly mess and changing into a ragged, but comfortable trousers, he rushed down the stairs. A loud scream of long suppressed childish happiness echoed behind him.

And then there was me. I remember standing at the top of the staircase and watching him rush down the stairs. A happy-go-lucky ball of energy. What should I do to be more like him? More normal?

That was when the thought hit me. If Joe could copy me and be over-intellectual, surely I could copy him and be normal? As soon as the idea entered my mind, I knew it was an ingenious plan. Resolutely, I found the most awful trousers in my wardrobe and messed up my hair until I doubted I could ever untangle it. Recalling Joe's way of going down the stairs, I did my best to copy it. Waving my arms, screaming like a mad and jump the last seven steps. No problem. It just made a whole lot of noise.

To my surprise, mum met me at the bottom of the staircase. After assuring herself I was all right (she believed I had fallen down the stairs), she told me I had to study some math. I was utterly shocked by the change of event. Didn't she want me to be stupid? Had they changed their minds? This made no sense at all.

I was totally terrified, but I did know I had to speak with my parents. I couldn't go on lying like this. "Mum?" My voice was a mirror of my uncertainty. "Yes darling?" Mum's eyes gave me the last bit of courage I needed.

"Do you want me to be stupid?" Yes, I know it was a laughable question, but for me, it made perfect sense. For mum; not so much. After a long conversation, though, she had the pleasure of assuring me that there was nothing wrong with studying and getting A+."

Frank smiled at the memory. Biff took the opportunity to cut in an epilogue. "And since that day, Frank Hardy has done nothing but studying and getting A+. And so, he lived happily ever after."

"Yes, until this day." A flame suddenly lit up Frank's eyes. "Joe managed to act like me. I know I can transform into him too. I am willing to make a bet, Hooper. Are you?" Biff smiled back. "Are you challenging me, Hardy? Hooper never back down from a bet. But are you sure you are ready? I mean, I get that Joe could copy you. He is born actor. But you? Not to offend anyone, but you usually were the narrator in the school-plays."

Frank didn't take any notice of Biff's mock smile. "I know that, Biff, but I am not so stupid as I might seem. I now my brother. I know what makes him Joe. In short: I know how to win this bet. You in?"

"You bet I am!"

With a laugh and a handshake, the bet was made. Frank were going to copy his brother until he got back from the camp. Looking back at his decision, Frank knew it was the most dangerous he had made since… since he couldn't remember when.

Author's note: This is a pretty short story with only a couple of chapters. Hope you enjoyed! I would be very grateful if you would leave me a review and say what you think. I will post the next chapter as soon as I can!

Love,

The Long-Gone, Now-Returning HNB FJRAY