Max was parked in front of the TV—an Xbox controller in one hand and a fresh bag of chips in the other—when his little brother deigned to waltz down the stairs.
“Well, look who it is,” Max said without taking his eyes off the virtual football players on the screen. “Finally decided to come home, huh?”
He hadn’t intended to sound so hostile when he saw Aiden next, but after being stuck at home alone with no car, he’d had plenty of time to stew.
Aiden didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. “I was gone for a couple of hours. Not exactly newsworthy.” He stopped at the foot of the stairs and stood there like he hadn’t decided if he was going to stay or not.
“Well, thanks for taking the car without asking. I loved being stranded here with no idea where you went.”
“You weren’t stranded. God forbid you walk somewhere.”
“Right, because walking for miles during a New York heat wave sounds like a great idea. Maybe after that, I can invade Russia in the winter.”
“Fine!” Aiden snapped. “Sorry I took the car for a whole afternoon. I didn’t realize I’d be depriving you. Maybe we can get a celebrity to sponsor a charity for you, since you have so many problems.”
Max stared at him, incredulous. “Seriously, bro? Why are you being such a dick?”
Aiden looked down at his shoes. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“Aiden . . .” Max paused his game and tossed the controller aside. “Look, I don’t want to fight anymore. In fact, I planned to apologize when I saw you next, but then you disappeared, and you didn’t answer any of my texts. Did you not get them?”
“Oh, whoops.” Aiden dug his phone out of his pocket and checked it. “Yeah, I got them. Sorry. I didn’t have my phone on me.”
“Since when? You always reply. I’ve joked before that it’s because you have to have the last word. Were you ignoring me?”
“No, I swear. I was busy.”
Max huffed. “I want to talk this out, but I can’t do it alone. Are you going to work with me here or not?”
Aiden’s face softened. “I think I can manage that.”
“Cool. Grab a seat.” Max waited for Aiden to fall into one of the chairs. “I’d ask where you’ve been all day, but I think I can guess.”
Aiden hesitated. “I was with Oliver.”
“Yeah, no shit. You guys hung out without me. Again.”
“Well . . . yeah.”
“You didn’t think to invite me? I invited both of you to lunch.”
For some reason, Aiden’s whole face turned red, as if he’d been dunked in paint. “We weren’t trying to exclude you. It wasn’t planned. You were at lunch anyway.”
“Yeah, but I texted you guys as soon as I got back. Neither of you thought to call me?” He eyed Aiden. “Where were you guys, anyway?”
“What does it matter?” Aiden’s tone was getting defensive again. “We weren’t here, and apparently that’s a crime now.”
Max’s temper flared like a roman candle. “If you’re going to feed me bullshit and cop an attitude, then we don’t need to talk after all.” Not that Max was being especially well-mannered, but he was the injured party here. He was entitled.
“I don’t want to be interrogated.” Aiden still wasn’t looking him in the eye. “I’m exhausted. I was planning to take a nap before Mom and Dad get home, but instead, I came down here to talk to you. And this is the thanks I get? Sarcastic comments and accusations? I don’t have the energy for this.”
Max frowned. “Why are you so tired? Did you and Oliver go rock climbing or something?”
Aiden froze, and even in profile, the embarrassment on his face was so palpable, Max swore he felt it as much as saw it. For a moment, his brain struggled to comprehend what it meant. Then, the implication slapped him across the face.
“Oh.” Max gaped at him. “Oh. I— Wow, okay. Didn’t see that coming.”
“See what?” Aiden looked cagey. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Bro, come on. Twin telepathy. You and Oliver . . . um.” He swallowed. “You know what? I don’t think I can say it.”
“Please don’t.” Aiden covered his ears. “I’ll die.”
Max shifted his weight in his seat as his annoyance melted into awkwardness. Jesus. His little brother, deflowered by the boy next door. He wasn’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to him that two young, virile men in love might do the do. Maybe because he hadn’t wanted to think about it. His brain had conveniently skipped over that possibility, but now it was staring him in the face.
His stomach lurched. For a brief moment, he thought it was because he was bothered by the idea of his brother having sex. With their mutual friend, no less, who now knew what Max had going on downstairs. But all of that was superficial. What upset him the most was the fact that Aiden hadn’t come to him first.
“Well, Aiden.” Max hesitated, not sure where to begin. “I want you to know that I love and support you, of course. But, um, I have to admit I’m a little hurt.”
“Hurt?” Aiden’s head jerked up. “Why would you be hurt? I’d think you’d be surprised, if anything.”
“I am surprised, but it kinda pales in comparison to the fact that you didn’t talk to me about this. When I thought I was going to lose my virginity, you were the first person I came to. Not my friends, not our parents. You. You didn’t do the same, and . . . Well, it sucks.”
The remorse on Aiden’s face intensified. “I didn’t plan this, Max. It just sort of happened. I didn’t mean to—”
“Exclude me. Again. Yeah, I’m sensing a theme here.” Max tried to push down all the negative emotions that were bubbling up in him, but they kept rising: sadness, anger, resentment, and a whole, heaping dose of rejection. Max pushed through it, though. No matter how upset he was, it was time to be the big brother. “Well, I’m here now if you want to talk about it.”
“Actually, I want to go to bed.” Aiden stood up like he meant to leave. “I need some time to process.”
Anger won out. “Wait, seriously? After dropping a bomb like that, you’re gonna walk out on me?”
Aiden rubbed one of his temples. He looked like he was fighting back a fresh bout of irritation. “What ‘bomb,’ Max? I’m twenty years old. I had sex with a boy I’m dating. It’s not a big deal. It’s . . . a decision that Oliver and I made together. I get that we’re brothers and all, but you can’t be involved in everything I do. What happened was between Oliver and me.”
Max swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “Okay. I get that. We were supposed to talk about other things, though. I was going to apologize for being a jerk earlier.”
“Apology accepted.”
Max waited for him to add more. The silence stretched on until it was so thin, it snapped. “I thought maybe you’d like to apologize too. For ditching me.”
“I’m sorry we ditched you. I don’t think either of us intended to do that, and I know Oliver was really upset about it.” He paused. “You might have to get used to it, though. Now that Oliver and I are dating, we’re going to want to spend time together as a couple. Things aren’t going to be like they were at the beginning of the summer.”
The emotions inside of Max bubbled over, black as tar. “So, that’s it, huh? You get a boyfriend, and suddenly you don’t have time for me anymore?”
“Honestly, Max, this is for the best. We could stand to spend the summer apart. There are some aspects of our relationship that are unhealthy, and I think deep down you know that. In particular, I need some space to figure out who I am when I’m not being your twin brother. I’ve never gotten to do that before, and it’s long overdue.”
Max recognized, on some level, that what Aiden had said was insightful and poignant, but his brain had already plunged into full-blown panic mode. Alarms blaring. Red lights flashing. Sirens wailing in the distance. In their entire lives, they’d only been apart in the brief moment between their births. Ridiculous as it was, Max had assumed they’d never be separated again. What would he do without his brother by his side?
As fear washed through him—cold as deep, dark water—Max did what he always did when he was afraid: he got angry. “What the fuck, Aiden? You think you’re Oprah now? You can keep your armchair psychology to yourself, because I’m not buying it.”
Aiden frowned. “It doesn’t matter if you buy it or not. It’s the way things are going to be from now on.”
“I can’t believe you. I’ve been there for you through everything. High school. Puberty. When you came out. And now, you’d rather spend all your time with him?”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” Aiden shrugged. “It’s not a you-versus-him thing. We’re all going to have to learn to live together.”
“You know, for someone who’s so smart, you sure can’t see what’s right in front of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You say you need space to figure out who you are, but you’re going to fill that space with Oliver. Instead of being ‘Aiden, Max’s twin,’ you’re going to be ‘Aiden, Oliver’s boyfriend.’”
It was a baseless accusation, but it sounded good, and Max would have said anything to make Aiden doubt his decision.
It seemed to have the opposite effect, though. Aiden’s eyes hardened, and the look he leveled at Max was pure ice. “I’m sorry, Max. I’ve made up my mind. Maybe . . .” He seemed to steel himself. “Maybe I don’t need you as much as you need me.”
It would have been kinder if Aiden had punched him. Max wanted to tell Aiden off, but one look at his brother’s face, and he couldn’t do it. Beneath the nonchalant façade Aiden was putting on, Max could see gears turning in his head. What Max had said had gotten to him. It was a small consolation, but it kept Max from losing hope entirely.
“I’m going to bed.” Aiden made for the stairs.
Max called after him. “I hope you’re happy.”
Aiden paused with his hand on the stair railing. “I can’t tell if that’s sincere or sarcastic.”
“Neither can I.”
Aiden left. Max stared at the door long after Aiden had closed it behind him. All of a sudden, he understood what Aiden had meant about being exhausted. He attempted to get back into his game, but he barely made it fifteen minutes before he threw the controller down and went upstairs. He had no idea what he intended to do once he got there, but he couldn’t sit still any longer.
He poked his head into the hallway that led to their rooms. Aiden’s bedroom door was closed, and there was no light visible beneath it. It seemed he really had gone straight to bed.
At least he hasn’t graduated to lying to me. Yet.
Max let his thoughts wander as he debated his next move. He’d wanted to apologize to Aiden, and he’d accomplished that, but that was about the only good thing to come out of their talk. Max understood, more or less, why he was angry, but Aiden had never been this irascible with him. Where had his mild-mannered brother gone?
Maybe you don’t know Aiden as well as you think you do.
That was a troubling idea.
Max ended up going to his room and flopping onto the bed, though he’d only woken up a few hours ago. He pulled his phone out, and a persistent flashing light told him he had notifications. Probably Facebook messages, texts, and shit. His friends from back in Westchester had been blowing him up the past few days. He’d been ignoring them in favor of spending time with Aiden and Oliver.
And why wouldn’t he? They were here and his easiest source of companionship, besides Jessica, the friend he’d had lunch with.
Looks like I bet all my money on the wrong horse.
He sighed. Why was he so bitter about all this? So his brother had gotten a boyfriend, and now he was more interested in him than he was in Max. Big deal. It sucked, but it was no Shakespearean tragedy. There had to be something more going on.
The last thing that Aiden had said to him stuck out in his head. “Maybe I don’t need you as much as you need me.”
At the time, Max had dismissed it as a jab said out of anger, but now he wondered if there wasn’t some truth to it. It was true that Aiden relied on him for social energy and support, but Max needed Aiden for attention, affection, and to feel like he was the best at something: being a big brother. Had he spent all these years playing up how much he did for Aiden because he needed to be needed?
It was possible. He and Aiden were such different people, after all. If they weren’t brothers, would they be friends?
“Damn,” he whispered to his ceiling, “I’m deep.”
Normally, he’d laugh at his own joke, but right now, he didn’t have it in him. All this thinking was wearing him out.
He was contemplating taking a nap of his own when he heard the front door open, followed by the sound of his parents’ voices.
“Well, fuck.” He rolled out of bed. “Can’t we cancel the rest of today?”
Mom and Dad had brought home taco ingredients. Max hung out with them in the kitchen while they cooked, and tried to distract himself. Aiden didn’t appear until dinner was ready and Mom had called him twice.
They ate in relative silence. It was unusual for the Kingsman household, but not so much so that Mom and Dad got suspicious. Several times, Max tried to catch Aiden’s eye, but not once did Aiden glance his way.
When dinner was over, Aiden disappeared back into his room, and that was the last Max saw of him. He spent a few hours playing video games, but after he died a series of bloody and avoidable deaths, he admitted his heart wasn’t in it. He went to sleep, praying that things would be clearer in the morning.
He couldn’t remember exactly what he dreamed, but it involved Aiden, and Max was anxious the whole time. He was pretty sure they were yelling at each other over some sort of fictitious problem. Max had borrowed Aiden’s hover scooter without asking or something.
What bothered him most about the dream was that it never got interrupted. In the past, when they’d argued, Aiden couldn’t sleep until things were right between them. It’d started when they were kids, and hadn’t changed over the years. Aiden would sneak into Max’s room after a fight and tug on his foot until he woke up. They’d sit cross-legged on his bed and talk it out.
But Aiden never came. Max had never been so sorry to sleep through the night.
Around eight in the morning, he woke up to find himself sticking to the sheets with sweat. He considered shaking off his bad dream and going back to sleep, but for once, he didn’t want to spend half the day in his room. If he was going to be ignored, he intended to be present and accounted for.
Rolling out of bed, he ducked into the bathroom, took care of everything he needed to do in there, and got dressed. When he walked out into the living room, Mom and Dad were awake but it seemed Aiden wasn’t.
“Morning, Aiden,” Mom said without looking up from her newspaper. She was seated at the breakfast table while Dad fussed in the kitchen.
“It’s Max, actually.”
Dad stopped halfway through scooping bacon out of a pan to glance at him. “Oh, hey. You’re up early.”
“Sorry, Max.” Mom’s brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m so used to Aiden being the first up.”
“It’s okay. Is there coffee?”
Dad gestured at the pot with a spatula. Max poured himself a cup and then doctored it with enough milk and sugar to make it arguably not coffee anymore. Precisely how he liked it.
He sat down at the table next to Mom and sipped it while fucking around on his phone. He was halfway through a tell-all message to Jessica when Aiden’s door opened, and out strolled the man himself.
Aiden made it three steps into the living room before he stopped short. “Max, you’re up early.”
Max didn’t look up from his phone. “So I’ve heard.”
“How’d you sleep, honey?” Mom asked.
Max couldn’t resist the opportunity to cut in. He glanced up. “Oh, I bet he slept great. He was all tuckered out from yesterday.”
A line appeared between Mom’s eyebrows. “What happened yesterday?”
Aiden didn’t glare daggers at Max so much as swords, dipped in poison, that were also somehow on fire. “Nothing. I didn’t sleep well. Isn’t that right, Max?”
“Sure.” Max’s smile was beatific. “Why not?”
Mom looked between them. “Boys, I’ve been a lawyer for thirty years and a mom for twenty. I know when something’s up. What’s going on?”
“Nothing, really.” Max turned his smile on her. “I’m teasing my brother.”
She looked unconvinced, but a glance at her watch sent her scrambling to put her dishes in the sink. “I have to run. Be good today, boys. Say hi to Oliver for me.”
Funny how she assumes we’re going to see him.
Mom kissed Dad goodbye and dashed for the front door. Dad turned back to the stove and called to them. “Want some breakfast?”
“I’d love some.” Aiden took a seat at the table across from Max. “I’m starving.”
“Sex will do that,” Max muttered.
“What was that?” Dad asked.
“I said ‘Eggs will do, Dad.’” He grinned. “If we have any.”
“Coming right up.”
Dad busied himself frying eggs while Aiden glared murderously at Max and Max pretended not to notice. After a while, Aiden pulled out his own phone and started texting. Max tried to peek at the screen, but Aiden held it away from him. Max would have bet money that he was texting Oliver.
“Here you go.” Dad appeared with a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast for both of them. He produced a pair of forks from the pocket of his apron. “I have to head into work as well. I trust you boys can fend for yourselves until I get home.”
“We’ll be fine, Dad,” Aiden said.
“Merff,” Max said while shoveling eggs into his mouth.
Aiden’s lip curled up.
Dad laughed. “All right. See you boys for dinner.”
No sooner had the front door shut behind him that Aiden pounced.
“What is the matter with you?”
Max didn’t look up from his phone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t pull that shit with me.”
Max was so startled to hear his brother curse—something Aiden usually saved for special occasions, like their birthday and Christmas morning—he looked up. Aiden’s eyes had narrowed. Aiden’s face was different than Max’s in anger. Max tended to get red and veiny, whereas Aiden got pinched and pale, like a crumpled piece of paper.
Judging by the creases around Aiden’s mouth and forehead, he was plenty angry now. “What were you thinking, saying those things to Mom and Dad? Did you think it would be funny to tell them I’m not a virgin anymore? Before I’ve had a chance to tell them Oliver and I are together? Or was that some kind of sick revenge because I blew you off?”
Max pressed his lips together. What he’d done was wrong, but hell if he was going to admit it. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were keeping it a secret. Maybe if you’d talked to me, I would have known.”
That shut Aiden up. Max grinned triumphantly.
Aiden stood up from the table. “I’m gonna invite Oliver over. When he gets here, I want you to play nice. It’s not his fault you’re—” he stopped and corrected himself “—we’re having some issues.”
“Fine by me. I can play nice. Oliver is my friend, after all.”
Aiden glowered but didn’t speak as he stalked off toward the basement. Great. Now Max couldn’t go down there like he’d planned. Aiden had probably done that on purpose.
“Whatever.” He finished downing his breakfast and dropped his plate and mug off in the sink. He started to go back to his room, but at the last second, he took a detour for the second time that week and walked into Aiden’s room instead. It was messier than it had been last time, and there were more photos tacked up on the corkboard.
Max plucked one off the board at random. Aiden had the curtains drawn, so it was a shade too dark for details, but Max recognized the scene: their joint eighth birthday party. The photo featured two rows of kids sitting at a long table at some sort of pizza place. Aiden and Max shared spots at the head of the table while a host of small faces leaned forward so the camera could see them around their neighbors.
Of course, Oliver was there, sitting right next to them, sporting the terrible bowl cut his mom had given him that year. He was looking at the camera, eyes and smile sparkling. In fact, everyone in the picture was looking at the camera, except for Aiden and Max.
Aiden was looking at Oliver. Max was looking at Aiden. It was so damn fitting, Max wanted to cry or rip up the photo. He couldn’t decide.
Was this how things had always been, and he’d been too self-involved to see it? In all the years he’d taken the lead, was he secretly chasing after Aiden?
This raised all sorts of uncomfortable questions Max didn’t want to deal with. Who was he if he wasn’t Aiden’s big brother? What role did he fulfill? What was their relationship going to be like now that so much had changed?
He had no idea how long he stood there, staring at the photograph while stray thoughts wreaked havoc in his mind, but he was startled back to the present when he heard a knock at the window.
He dropped the photograph. For a second, he thought he was hearing things, but then the knock sounded again.
“What the fuck?” He pulled the curtains aside and blinked in the sudden light.
It was Oliver. He waved at Max and gestured at the window like he wanted to be let in. Max threw it open without thinking.
“Hey, I see you got my text.” Oliver climbed over the sill. Once he was in, he shut the window again and drew the curtain back, dimming the light. “I thought this would be more fun than the front door. It’s like our thing, you know?”
Max was too confused to form words. The fuck is he on about?
What happened next in no way helped him regain the ability to think.
Before Max could react, Oliver swooped in and kissed him. With enthusiasm.
Max stiffened like a corpse. It all happened so fast, he didn’t know what to do. But there was one thing he definitely didn’t do. No matter how angry he was with Aiden, no matter how much he resented Oliver . . .
He did not kiss Oliver back.
It took Oliver all of three seconds to realize his mistake. He wrenched his mouth away, eyes wide with horror. “M-Max?”
“’Fraid so,” Max said, still stunned. His eyes actually hurt, they were open so wide. “Nice to see you too, buddy.” He didn’t know where the humor came from, but it was all he could do not to giggle like a nervous child.
Of all the thoughts that flitted into his head, the most troubling was how comfortable he was with the idea that he’d kissed another dude. He wouldn’t say he’d liked it, per se, but he suspected that was because it was Oliver.
Now’s not the time for a sexual-identity crisis, said a voice in his head. There are more pressing matters at hand.
He touched his fingers to his lips. “So . . . that happened.”
Oliver stumbled back a step and covered his mouth. “Max, I am so sorry. I—”
There came the sound of footsteps in the hall. “Oliver? Is that you? I got your text.”
Aiden entered the room a second later. Max and Oliver didn’t have time to do more than look up in terror.
Maybe it was the fear on Oliver’s face. Maybe it was the fact that Max was touching his lips. Maybe it was how they’d jumped away from each other, guilt hanging so heavy in the air it seemed to blot out the light.
Whatever it was, Max could tell right away that Aiden knew exactly what had happened.
“Aiden,” Oliver said, his voice pitched too high. “Hey. I just got here.”
Poor Oliver, Max thought. He doesn’t know it’s too late. This is where twin telepathy comes in handy.
He was completely unsurprised when Aiden rounded on him, eyes sharp as knives, and snarled, “Get the fuck away from my boyfriend.”
Though that didn’t make it hurt one bit less.