Aaron has always towered over me—him as tall and thin as I am short and stout, a visual representation of what opposites we are, even though we have the same unruly brown hair, the same dark brown eyes, the same pronounced eyebrows and strong hands, made slender and nimble by our respective passions. We’re fun-house-mirror versions of each other, a bastardized set of twins. Always one goddamn step from clicking together completely.

“That’s all I’m trying to do,” he said. “And I’m sorry I’ve failed until now. But you need to meet me halfway.”

“I have been meeting you halfway. Every time I’ve been in your dreams it’s—” I choked around the words, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. I turned around, putting my back to him and the living room and marching into the kitchen.

“Rosie, what are you—” I heard him say, feeling his lanky form following ten feet behind me.

“Right there,” I said, pointing out the kitchen window into the dark yard. “You and me used to sit right out there and play pirates and help Dad with his little projects and we—we connected!”

“Yeah, we did!” he agreed. “But why—”

“I can go back there in the dreamworld!” I shouted. “I don’t even participate, not always. Sometimes I just want to watch you and Dad, being together, laughing, and—”

A sob rose in my throat, making it hard to talk.

“I’ve been trying to connect, I have.”

“That’s not how to connect, Rosie,” he said, softer than he had any right to be when we were supposed to be shouting at each other.

“Why not?” I yelled. “You get to read everyone’s minds and you’re telling me you don’t use that to understand people better?”

“Clearly not!” he shouted, throwing up his hands. “Because you just said that I don’t understand you and apparently I’m reading your mind all the time!”

He paced around, his arms waving like he was a frustrated, neglected marionette caught in a strong wind.

“I didn’t say you were good at it,” I snapped, that toxic feeling of being mean to someone I loved circling round and round in my chest, the strong and recognizable monster that I felt completely powerless to stop.

“For fuck’s sake, Rosie.” Aaron groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. It was so late. Early. The clock on the microwave glowed 5 a.m. I remember thinking that our parents were expected back in sevenish hours and in that moment, I wasn’t sure if Aaron and I would still be standing there.