I sit on the roof long after Quasar fades, watching the clouds drift along the sky. I've known him my whole life, but he always manages to confuse me.

Finally, I scuttle back down the roof and into my room, shutting the window behind me. The neighbors will be up soon, and we've already had enough complaints about my roof-top adventures. I turn around, expecting my room to be empty, but instead find it occupied by a 12 year old boy. Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

"Why are you climbing in through your window?" Oliver, my little brother, looks at me accusingly through his thick glasses, trying to look serious in his train patterned P.J.s. Of course he knows I was on the roof, I spent most of my adolescent years up there, which my tiny yet sophisticated brother disapproved of greatly.

"Well, if I was inside before climbing through, then I'd be going out. So, if I was climbing in, that would have to mean I was first outside. So I was outside, but I guess I wanted to come in, as I am now inside. It's really the only thing that makes sense." I can't help but grin at the glare he gives me.

"Holly, come on! What would happen if you fell?" Now he looks scared as well as angry, throwing his hands into the air. Suddenly feeling guilty, my grin slides away. Oliver has that effect on people. Groan. He's like a puppy, with huge blue eyes magnified through his glasses.

So I walk up to him, sling him over my shoulder, and stroll out of my room with him sputtering and flailing about.

"I should feel insulted," I say, trying to keep my voice light, ignoring his protests. "Don't you trust me enough to not fall off by now? Really, you worry too much."

I go into his room across the hall and dump him, rather unceremoniously, onto his bed. "I'll make you a deal, okay? If you stay out of my room, I won't fall off the roof, got it?" I lean over him and stare into his blue eyes with my green ones. We glare at each other for a while before he glances away, mumbling something about weird older sisters. I'm going to choose to ignore that last comment...

"Fine, but if I see you out there again, I'm telling mom." He jumps off his bed and starts herding me towards the door. "And you have to stay out of my room, too."

Oliver slams his door behind me while I stand there in the hallway, still a bit confused. I probably should be more careful. It's not like he has no reason to worry, but I still see no danger of going up on the roof.

My mom once said my biological parents must have been cats. Dad laughs and says I simply defy gravity. I've always been the oddest of our odd little family. Oliver and I were adopted, so no one in our house is actually blood related. We get along well enough, I suppose, though I still don't understand most of the conversations we have.

I shake my head and go back to my room, falling face first into my bed. Looking up, I find metallic sparrows flying around my room, resting on bronze trees with green glass-like leaves. The air shimmers, and the shining metal shifts to an icy white, where foxes with fur like snow make their way around sparkling white pine trees. This is my imaginary world; sometimes it's snow and ice, a place called Stiria, others it's metal and glass, Hyalus. Quasar insisted on the names. For a moment, it stabilizes in the latter, a scene depicting a bronze mountain. I notice that above my ceiling, the sun shines gold in the sky.