They both told her that it feels like there’s a string between them, one that pulls them towards her at all times. That it felt that way for a while, though neither can pinpoint the moment it started.
Allison doesn’t know either, and she doesn’t feel the pull that way. What she does know is that she loves them both, in slightly different ways but equal amounts all the same.
She loves Scott with the fierceness of a first love, the first boy she fell for, the first one whose presence made her heart and stomach flutter.
She loves Isaac with the warmth of a fellow survivor, the one who grounded her after her world and her heart fell apart, the one who put them both back together.
And then she watches them circle around each other while they orbit her -- moths to a flame and tiptoeing around the feelings that she knows they have for each other. It’s like a dance, sometimes. Switching between pairs in the constellation that they are together, two and one, one and two.
It takes a while before they finally come together the way it finally feels right. Before Isaac quietly admits that he feels the safest when she’s holding his hand at the same time as Scott’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders. Before Scott tells them both that he can’t decide which kisses make him fly higher, and that he doesn’t think he’ll ever want to know. Before she gives in and stops trying to let one of them go for the sake of what’s considered normal and acceptable.
Before Melissa and Chris accept them for what they are, the trio that’s not to be separated.
She thinks she’ll never know the moment that started it all, the moment from which Scott and Isaac started feeling the strings pulling them in.
And then the truth about Derek comes out, the arrows, the bow, the family heritage. It’s Derek who tells them of the moment in the parking lot, of the way the arrow split in two and connected them all together. Allison still doesn’t feel the pull the same way the boys do, but the memory of the moment becomes clearer, and she finally understands why that simple wave on an otherwise insignificant afternoon is so firmly lodged in her mind.
She’d have loved them both anyway, in some way. This way, she can just tell all the naysayers that Cupid himself approves.