Milo and his twin rode their bikes side by side, their wheels clicking along the sidewalk. Milo grinned as they zipped past the garage where his dad kept his tools. They will race all summer, they thought.
They raced past the open garage door. Inside, a shelf held rows of dad's tools. Milo held up a shiny wrench and gave it a little wave.
At the pool party, they wore matching clown outfits with red noses. Milo held the shiny wrench in the air. The wrench flew and bonked his twin — clonk! — and the red nose went flopping into the water.
Milo's grin disappeared. His twin swam to the other side without looking back. He bobbed in the deep end alone.
The twin treaded water in his clown shoes. Milo watched the ripples on the pool surface. He stood there until his wrench felt heavy.
Years later, Milo and his twin sat side by side in black coats. Milo leaned close. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered.
His twin squeezed his hand and squeezed back.
They sat together, their hands still linked. Milo thought about all the summers they had yet to share.
They remembered they were still brothers.
Milo's twin almost smiled — the way he did when they rode bikes.
The sun warmed their shoulders. The ceremony was over.
They stood up together. Milo and his twin walked home, side by side.