When Aaron Minyard met his twin brother when he was twelve years old, he was convinced they’d get along great. He wanted to find out if Andrew could hear his thoughts, if they would invent their own language. It only took one conversation with Andrew for Aaron to change his mind.
When Aaron stupidly said “You know what they say about twins,” Andrew had replied, “Yes. Same fingerprints. I could frame you for murder.”
It’s now four years later, they’re living together with their adopted mom, Betsy Dobson, and they still don’t get along.
It’s not like Aaron thought Andrew had an easy life before he met him. Hell, Aaron hadn’t had the best time of it himself with an abusive alcoholic birth mother, so he was sure Andrew was hiding a dark past. He just wished Andrew would talk to him about it.
Andrew doesn't really talk to people, though.
So, Aaron leaves him alone. They have their own rooms, their interactions are limited to family meals and the drive to and from school.
They don’t even have a lot of classes in common, with Andrew getting higher scores in Arts and Languages, and Aaron doing well in Maths and Science.
They have an understanding, and everything was fine the way it was.
Until Aaron made the mistake of opening up about feelings at the dinner table.
“Betsy,” Aaron starts, pushing around the crust of his pizza slice and not looking up from his plate. “Can I use the car on Saturday?”
“That depends, honey, what for?” Mom says, pointing at his plate for him to eat the crust too.
He stuffs half of it in his mouth and mumbles, “To take out a girl.”
Andrew immediately looks up and glares at him with eyebrows raised.
To be fair so does Betsy, but her eyebrows don’t go so impressively high. Andrew can be really expressive when he wants to be, which is basically never.
“Take out?” Betsy repeats. “As in date? As in that thing you’re not allowed to do?”
“You were serious about that?”
“You think I told you I didn’t want you to knock anybody up as a joke?”
“Betsy,” Aaron blushes. “I just wanna take her out, not, you know… have… intercourse… ”
“Nice try pretending you don’t use the word ‘sex’, buddy,” Betsy snorts. “No dating in high school, that was the deal. Your brother has no problem with that rule.”
“He’s fucking frigid!”
Betsy points at their half-full swear jar.
“That’s very rude, Aaron.”
“It’s true,” he dares to mutter, but Betsy’s glare tells him it wasn’t as quiet as he thought it was.
Andrew, who has been silent during this whole thing, is still staring at Aaron, eyebrows down and impassive again.
“He doesn’t even want to date anyone, though, he isn’t affected by it,” Aaron complains.
Betsy grins that special way she does when she’s had a terrible idea. “Alright, I’ll change the rule. You’re sixteen now, I hope you’re more responsible in your decision-making skills.”
Aaron doesn’t want to admit how high his hopes are getting.
“You can date,” Betsy says, and Aaron’s heart is beating double-time. “When Andrew does.”
The pizza slice in Aaron’s hand falls on his plate with a thunk.
Then, Andrew laughs, louder and happier than Aaron’s ever heard him. He grins at Aaron. “You’re fucked.”