The Best Thing

"Hannah!"

"What, Dennis?"

I impatiently turned to look at my brother, standing at the end of the staircase with a cane in one hand and a wrapped box in the other. My heart lurched at the site of him standing up for me. I knew how hard it was for him to muster the strength, and to think he did it for me made me want to cry. How could I be so cruel?

"I got you something for your dorm."

I smiled at my twin brother and kissed him on the cheek. Because he was handicapped, he never quite grew to his full height. The doctors had predicted when we were younger that he'd grow to be at least 6'1. Instead, he was as tall as he was at 16; which, at 5'9", wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"I'm going to open it on the ride there, okay? I'm going to be late for my flight otherwise."

He nodded, his head tilting ever-so-slightly to the side as a result of his injuries. I stood on my tippy-toes to push a slight kiss onto his forehead before helping him sit back down into a nearby armchair. My brother couldn't walk long distances without beginning to tremble. With two years of physical therapy, he has gotten better, but his road to recovery was still a long one. The doctors said he'd be able to walk normally in no time, but it was painful watching and waiting for it to happen. Thankfully, all of his mental capacities were still in tact.

"I love you, to the moon and back."

A tear fell down my cheek as I looked down at my twin brother.

"And I love you, even more than that."

After a hasty good-bye to my parents, I was off to the airport, driven by none other than my next-door neighbor and best friend Andrew Shaw.

"You never answered why you accepted Chicago when there are so many good colleges and universities nearer to home."

"Because it's away from here, Andrew. I can't handle Belleville, Canada anymore," I answered honestly.

Andrew looked at me from the driver's seat and examined me with his dark brown eyes. We had talked about Dennis's accident multiple times, and I had forgiven him for not body-chucking the guy who skated over my prostrated brother into oblivion. But I could never reverse the aversion I had to hockey since that day. And nothing Andrew Shaw said to me could keep me in Canada, the hockey capital of the world, any longer.

"What's in the box?"

I glanced down at the wrapped gift and shrugged. "Dennis handed it to me as I was leaving."

"Can I see?"

"I don't see why not, best friend," I responded humorlessly, tearing open the small box in the passenger seat of Andrew's car. The box was easy to get into, and once I tore the lid off, I realized just how much I was going to miss my twin brother. I started to cry.

"Oh no, no no no no"

Andrew slammed on the breaks and pulled to the side of the road. Cars honked at us as they passed by but I couldn't bring myself to calm down.

"Please stop crying, you know I can't handle when you cry," Andrew pleaded, clear desperation ringing in the tone of his voice.

"I can't help it," I sobbed, chucking the box at him. Inside was a picture frame that held an old photo of my brother and I from our 14th birthday party. It was the last time we had a joint birthday party, so our parents went all out and rented a venue. The photo was of me on his back with my arms around him; neither of us were focused on the camera because we were both looking at each other, laughing our asses off, enraptured by the moment. Those were the days when we lived easy.

As soon as Andrew saw the picture, his face softened. He understood why I hurt so much, but he never accepted it.

"Hannah," he began.

"No, stop talking. I know what you're going to say and I don't want to hear it."

"I love you. I always have, and I always will."

I swallowed. I wasn't expecting that. I felt the worry lines on my forehead deepen as my eyebrows furrowed. I tried to search Andrew's expression for any clues, but I found nothing.

It was no secret that we had hooked up a few times in high school after parties and other such events, but both of us were always at some level of intoxication so I played it off as built up sexual tension between the two of us that needed a healthy release. I was about to say something, anything, but he continued on.

"I love you, so I'm not afraid to tell you when you're wrong. And you are so wrong when it comes to your brother. You always said you hated how he couldn't live his life to the fullest now, but you forget that he's still alive. You go on as if he's a missing part of you, but he's not. He always will be a part of you, temporary handicap or not."

"Shaw," I tried to interrupt, but he wasn't having it.

"No, let me finish."

I frowned and he continued on. I had calmed down and stopped crying soon after he said he loved me, but I still felt awful. Because Andrew was right and I knew it.

"Hockey is something you'll always be afraid of, and I get that. Especially after what your family has been through. But it will also always be a part of me, do you get that? It's something that runs in my family and I can't give up on it."

I nodded; I understood. I've known Andrew for so long that it all made sense.

"I've been scouted, and something will probably come of it in the next few years or so. I just wanted you to know. When I make it to the NHL, you have to come to my first professional game, okay?"

My eyes widened and my throat started to swell up, making it difficult for me to respond. I shook my head. I couldn't possibly watch another hockey game; not in person, at least. Not when I was attached.

"It hurts you that Dennis will probably never be able to live his dream, but it hurts me just as bad that you won't even come to see me live mine."

A single tear fell from my eyes. Fucking Shaw. I nodded. "Okay."

"Okay. Let's get you to school."

He pulled back into traffic and we were at the airport shortly. Most of my stuff had to be shipped to Chicago, so I was traveling with only one check-in bag and a carry-on. Attendants at the curbside counter took care of my luggage as Andrew and I bared the cold in order to say our goodbyes. The wind was blowing my dark brown hair in every direction humanly possible, so by the time I had it out of my face I had just enough time to close my eyes as Andrew brought his lips down to mine in a slight, lingering kiss. His fingers wrapped around the backside of my neck and his thumbs traced the length of my jawline; my hands fell from where they were holding my hair back to cupping his wrists.

"I'll miss you, Hannah."

I smiled and kissed him once more, quick as ever, and assured him I'd miss him as well.

As I turned away to walk into the airport, I heard Andrew call out to me.

"There's something under the frame too, just by the way!"