Two friends went downstairs to check the available beverages and found coffee, tea, and a bottle of Coke. Perfect—the experiment required three different colored drinks.

Violet brewed the coffee and tea while Noah carefully followed online instructions to remove an egg from its shell without breaking it. The experiment only needed eggshells.

They took three cups to Noah's room to keep them safe from the dog and placed them on his desk. Violet poured a different drink into each cup and added a hollowed-out eggshell to each.

"It's about 5:30, so check them at the same time every day," Violet instructed. "Make a chart for each day and cup, and observe the results for a week. It's super simple. I can help you with your science fair poster board afterward."

"You're an angel, Vi," Noah said fervently. "I never would have thought of this."

"That's what the internet is for, dummy," she replied with a smile. "But I'm always happy to help."

Noah was practically a brother to her. He'd been a vital part of her life for as long as she could remember. She couldn't imagine doing anything but helping him.

Unlike her brothers, Noah never gave her a hard time. They were kindred spirits, always on the same wavelength, which was funny considering their different hobbies.

Kaleb, her brother, also had different hobbies, and felt distant lately. When he was around, he only teased her. She missed their closer relationship.

Sometimes, she wished Noah were her twin. Despite their differing pastimes, their personalities were compatible. As they grew older, Kaleb and Violet seemed increasingly incompatible.

"I wish I could do more for you," Noah said dejectedly. "I can't help with your homework, drive you places, or stop people from bullying you. You always help me, but I can't return the favor."

She was surprised. Violet never felt their relationship was unequal. She helped him with homework, mostly because it gave her an excuse to see him. Sixth-grade homework was easy, so they finished quickly and could hang out.

Noah didn't do much physically, but that was because he was younger. He helped in other ways; he was her safe place.

Violet loved her family, but didn't always relate to them. They were supportive and cared deeply, but didn't fully understand her.

Noah always did. He understood her needs before she even spoke, knowing when to talk, when to let her be, and always saying the right thing.

With him, she felt completely herself, which was difficult to explain, because her personality shifted sometimes. Her family seemed to expect her to be consistently the same.

Noah accepted her different moods. He didn't care which "Violet" was present; he understood them all.

"That's not true!" Violet blurted out more forcefully than intended.

"Yeah, it is," he sighed. "Thanks for saying so, though. I wish I were older. If we were in the same grade, I'd never let anyone mess with you. We could sit together at lunch and do homework. And I'd totally punch that guy who throws pencils at you."

She chuckled. Noah could throw a mean punch; he wasn't a black belt for nothing.

"That sounds nice, but I like you as you are, Noah. You can't magically make yourself older."

"It would be cool, though, wouldn't it?" he asked with a rueful smile.

He was still bothered. Violet wasn't great at cheering people up.

"You're my emotional support! Like…um…" she struggled to articulate her earlier thoughts.

Noah raised an eyebrow. "Like those emotional support dogs?"

"No! You're not my pet, stupid! You're my safe place."

"How's that better than being a pet? In either case, I've lost my humanity," he said, laughing slightly.

She scowled; he understood. Her clumsy explanation had actually helped.

"Noah," Violet whined, "Don't be like Kaleb. I like spending time with you because you're not like him."

He sobered instantly. "Is he being mean to you again?"

Not exactly mean, but a distance had grown since middle school. He'd stopped inviting her to sit with his friends, which is why she sat with the choir and orchestra kids.

Violet wanted to prove to Kaleb she could take care of herself. She sensed his resentment at having to look after her since upper elementary. She continued doing so after he saw she was fine because she was tired of being isolated and wanted to date like everyone else.

Kaleb wasn't mean, but he teased her more and spent less time with her outside of family events. He'd play board games with her, but rarely cards alone.

Why? What had she done to make the person she loved most want to distance himself? Was it her clinginess when younger? She was trying so hard to improve.

"He doesn't seem to want much to do with me," she said sadly. "I miss him. I miss the way things used to be."