By the time they were old enough to go to school; James had been shamelessly running laps around the house for years. Donna was more reserved, saving her super-speed for being able to finish long books much faster than normal. Each child thought the other was weird. Barry and Iris both loved their children of course, but sometimes it almost seemed like they liked James better.
At least to Donna, it did. And even children with an excellent capacity for understanding how anything works can be hurt by something that they suspect, no matter how unlikely it is.
And so whilst James was called: "The life and soul of the party", Donna sat quietly in the corner. Even in school, they were in the same grade, the same class. James always had a crowd of kids around him in his free time. Donna sat alone.
At home, James would be with his friends or chatting easily with his parents while Donna sat on the couch and read a book. A thick book. James would tease her.
His parents would tell him to stop, would make him apologize, but these wounds, while trivial to an adult, seem deep to a child.
Donna would forgive her brother, of course, just like any good sister would, but she still hated the feeling of being alone.
When they were eight, James sat next to Donna on the couch the one day and turned to his sister seriously.
James was rarely serious, so Donna thought she'd better listen to whatever was on his mind.
"Yes, James?" she said.
He shrugged. "Why do you think we're so different?"
"Physically or personality wise?" Donna replied.
"Both."
"Oh." Donna sat back, delighted to impart some information to her brother. "Well…"
About halfway through her explanation of DNA and genetics she noticed he wasn't listening.
She sighed. "Anyway, that's physically. Personalities just develop."
He nodded vacantly. "I just wanted to know because you're so quiet, and everyone says I talk a lot."
"You do talk a lot," Donna agreed. "Some people are just quieter than others."
He nodded again. "Mom and Dad aren't quiet."
"No, they are not," Donna said. "But some other people are. Remember Jill?"
She was referring to a girl in their class, who never seemed to have anyone to talk to.
"Yeah," James said. He stood up. "She's kinda boring. Bye!" he called, zooming off.
Donna sighed.
"What am I going to do with him," she muttered.