By Prince's fifth birthday he knows better than to talk about Clover.

He is her, and she is him, but Clover is ten years old and knows how people will look at her if she tells them who she really is.

As far as Jax, his mother, and his father know, Prince is a genius. As soon as he was able to form his mouth around words he spoke with a vocabulary highly advanced for his age. Clover’s mother makes her take violin lessons as a desperate attempt to get her to forget Princeton, but it isn't a good solution.

So, Princeton is a prodigy on the violin as well.

He can do math problems at the level of a fifth grader, read books with long words, and no one in his family knows it’s because Clover can do those things, as well. But he’s smaller than Clover, younger, and sometimes he longs for the equality that people treat her with.

It isn’t fair, he thinks, that Princeton gets to be smart, but Clover gets to be taken seriously. They’re the same person, after all.

He prefers to focus on his life rather than hers when the sessions with Doctor Horadi roll around; they’re incredibly dull, and although he can’t block out what she sees and hears, he can ignore it. It comes, he learns, at the cost of his normalcy; focusing on anything in one body makes the other rather clumsy.

The doctor has asked him a question, an important one, and he hears it but at the same moment he wrestles with Jax on the floor of their living room, and as someone that didn’t always understand the concept of siblings, he cannot lose this round.

“Princeton?”

Clover blinks, her mind dragged away from the headlock Jax has her in miles away, and Doctor Horadi gazes at her, very serious. “Huh?” she asks.

The doctor hesitates. “Are you Princeton, right now? Is Clover sleeping?”

Prince loses the match; Jax is triumphant, but ruffles his brother’s soft brown hair affectionately and says, “You’re still a squirt. I’ll teach you to fight properly so no one kicks your ass for being a nerd.”

These are both important moments, and Clover is torn. It’s still so hard to say different things at the same time, but she focuses in, tells her brother that she wants a rematch, and answers the worried doctor’s question.

“No, I’m not sleeping,” she snaps, and watches helplessly as Jax tackles her to the carpet again. “I've told you a thousand times, Princeton was an imaginary friend I had when I was five years old.” She leans back into the couch of Horadi’s office and sighs. “I wish my mom wouldn't make me see you every week. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Prince zeros in on the wrestling match again, tuning out the other sights and sounds as best he can. Sometimes, even though he wants to be treated like a ten year old, he wishes he was just Princeton. He loves having a brother, being able to see both his mother and father every day, and Clover’s mom and dad are away so often. He almost thinks he’d rather be one person, just Princeton, than be as lonely as Clover Lee.

He’s jealous of himself.