That was how it began: Ricky, the only child who learned early how to be alone, and Baby Gemini, who was already two people in a thrift-store coat.
At night, they’d park under the overpass and watch the headlights blur past. Baby Gemini would lean their head on Ricky’s shoulder and whisper, “Which one of us do you like better? The one who laughs too loud, or the one who counts your freckles when you sleep?” baby gemini and ricky
Ricky hit it. The machine groaned and started. Baby Gemini smiled for the first time—two different dimples, one shy, one sly. That was how it began: Ricky, the only
Baby Gemini went quiet. Then, softer: “That’s the right answer.” That was how it began: Ricky