It was three words she'd been longing to hear, hadn't understood why he'd kept them from her, had forced him to share them. But suddenly, just the way he spoke, they became more than they ever were before. They used to be something she was supposed to say to someone allowed to put their tongue in her mouth… She'd never understood until now.
"I love you, Carly."
She wished she hadn't made him say it. She wished he could've said it on his own and really meant it. Because, god, from him it'd been amazing enough even without being true.
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I love you, Carly.
It felt so true it freaked him out. Girls had asked him to say it before and he'd always found a way around it… He had no idea if saying it was what made it feel true or if felt true just because it was true. What did he know? He was just a kid. Was he supposed to know so young? Probably not.
One thing he did, know, though. He wanted to say it again. He wanted to say it again so much it scared him. So he didn't. Not yet. No reason to rush.
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"Hey, Gib!" Spencer shouted.
"Spence!" Gib shouted back, "How goes it?'
Spencer hopped down from his ladder, tossed his hair from his face, frowned. "Where's Sam and Freddie?"
Carly shrugged, let Gibby pass her up the stairs, lied, "Freddie's got a dentist appointment and Sam's grounded for throwing a casserole in her mom's boyfriends' face."
"Oh," Spencer shrugged, "Okay."
Gibby was waiting in her room, "Well?"
Carly laughed, "He doesn't have a clue." She put her arms around his shoulders and kissed the last boy her brother would ever guess he needed to be suspicious of.
Gibby liked clueless brothers.
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It was like the old dreams where he was flying. No plane, no wings, just flying. The world below, the sky around, the horizon always out of reach. In the dreams, he'd suddenly fall, the ground approaching fast. He'd wake, screaming, mom would hurry in. It always took a song to calm him.
The dreams were long behind, but he felt like he was flying again when shiny pink lips smiled at him, or dark eyes sparkled with laughter. She made him reach for the horizon again. It'd take just one mean word, and he'd be falling to his death.
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Carly knew how carefully he avoided saying it, but she'd gotten tired of waiting, asked him to say it once. He had, but they were just words that time and she tried not to let it bother her.
The second time it was in the car, unprovoked but awkward. Then he gave a curt nod afterwards, the silent punctuation mark at the end of a declaration. But she could tell he was scared.
The third time felt like the first time. He said it over the phone. It gave her butterflies and all he said was "Cool, 'night, love you."
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She found him in the boy's locker room after a baseball game victory. He heard the wolf whistles and taunts from the others—classic signs of a woman afoot—but didn't turn in time to see who it was before warm fingers covered his eyes.
"Guess who?" she giggled.
"What are you doing in here?"
He felt her lips against his ear, "I just wanted to tell you something." He was on the bench getting out of his cleats. She slid into his lap
"I love you," she said for the first time, killing him wonderfully.
"I love you, too."
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Carly panicked when she found an extra day on her girl calendar, bought a pee stick. Whew. Close. Crisis over…until Spencer saw it in the trash.
"WHY WOULD YOU NEED ONE OF THESE? WHO'S THE GUY? WHEN DOES THIS GO ON? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?"
She came clean about Gibby. Spencer would've been cooler about it, but Gib was his friend. It felt like betrayal.
"Dude, she's my little sister!"
"And YOU'RE her brother!"
"What?"
"What?"
"You betrayed me, Gibby."
"How?"
"She's my sister!"
"And I'm Gibby! I still don't get it."
Carly laughed. Gibby shrugged. Spencer gave up.
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Kinda for a joke, but mostly because it was adorable and she wanted to, they got each other hamsters. They didn't know what Carly's was, because she was uncomfortable checking. Gibby's was a boy (they were kind of interested to see if any girbly-hamsters would come along.) He called his Her Heart and she called hers His. That way when people asked what they gave each other for Christmas, he would say "Carly gave me Her Heart" and Carly would say, " and he gave me His."
It was a magical metaphor until His died. Gibby still loved her, though.
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It was a big decision, so it was supposed to be hard to make. But it wasn't, not to them, anyway. Of all the schools they'd applied to, they both got into that one. Loved ones chirped up friendly warnings that schools aren't meant to be chosen that way. That young love is fine, and all of that, but college is hard, people change, and even good things end eventually. Pick a school for yourselves, not for the two of you.
"Thanks, but I did pick this school for me, Spence."
"Mom, this is the school I'm going to. Period."
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She helped him unpack in his dorm room. He was putting up a poster when she turned from filling his sock drawer. It was huge and featured a dark-haired woman in a bikini. He'd had it in his bedroom at home. She'd taken it in stride, but now she put her foot down.
"No,"
"Why not?"
"Because I don't like her."
He smirked, "She's not real."
"Exactly."
He looked from the poster to her and sighed, rolled it back up, "Fine."
"Really?"
"Yeah, won't need it if you'll be over here a lot." He wagged his eyebrows.
"Deal," she giggled.