"Sadie, Sadie, dammit! Bring back those keys!" my brother called.

I pretended not to hear him. I dropped the keys to the handcuffs, holding him to the refrigerator door, on the hall table. It wouldn't hold him forever, just long enough.

His car keys were hanging on the hook by the door, why not? I'd literally earned his new Jeep for him, while I took the used Prius. Today, was my day. I went out through the garage, dragging the aluminum flight case on wheels down the drive to the Jeep.

The hours in the gym paid off. Lifting it was much easier than I'd thought. Amazing what you could do, if you put your mind to it. Not that I'd ever doubted it.

Hi, I'm Sadie Green, kid inventor, about to take the state championship science fair by storm. The guy in the handcuffs? My twin brother Barnie. Not this time, sorry, it was time for me to tell my own story.

This one started the summer after third grade, that's when I discovered my dad's old erector set in the basement of my grandparents house. I'd always been bored with Barbies, but dad wouldn't let me use real tools. Here was my entrance into the world of makers.

"What is it?" My dad asked the next morning.

The whole family was spending a week on my Grandparent's farm. It was half of our summer vacation. From here, we'd leave on a ten day Disney cruise, but this was by far my favorite part.

"It flips pancakes," I said.

He laughed.

It took four tries to get the timer right, but the flip was perfect. By the third morning, I had it perfected. Enter Barnie.

"That's really cool. I bet it could win first prize at the school inventor's fair," he said.

We'd been selected as a Shark Tank Super School, and our usually fun-filled inventor fair was being put on steroids. The prize was going to be a ten thousand dollar investment in the invention that won.

"Girls don't do science, Sade," this from my Grampa.

He's a good guy, but he's a Korean War vet and he's been babied his whole damn life by gramma, who does everything for him that doesn't require a wrench. He's a sexist pig, but he's my sexist pig, and I love him anyway.

But, at the time, I believed it. Barnie convinced me he would split the prize with me if I helped him come up with something good. Then he could enter it, a boy always won. I later found out this wasn't true, but again, didn't know that then.

So, for the rest of the summer, we worked. I learned to solder,and weld, although we burned a spot on grampa's work bench, which he didn't find until Christmas, when he moved the big tub of tree lights we'd used to hide the spot.

The resulting creation was amazing. It was an automated oven lift, that allowed my wheelchair bound Aunt Betty, to resume her passion for baking, without having to have someone else slide the baking trays in and out.

"Oh, Sadie," she said, with tears in her eyes,"You don't know how much this means to me. Daddy doesn't like to do woman's work, and I've burned more cookies waiting for mom, thanks!"

That had sealed it for me. To me, inventing was about creating solutions. For Barnie, it was about being the center of attention. So, for 8 years, he'd been the front man, while I won prize after prize, after prize. He had split them with me, but somehow, he always came out just a bit ahead.

"Sure, you built the rocket wings, but, I'm the one in the YouTube video going 50 on inline skates!" he said.

But, not this time. Today was the day for entries into the state finals of the inventor's section of the state science fair. There was a scholarship to MIT on the line, and he wasn't even interested in going to school there. Meanwhile, I knew my invention would sweep the prize pool.

I turned into the parking lot of City Community College. There was a long line of cars at the curb, all unloading projects. I parked and climbed down.

"Sadie? Where's Barnie?" It was Lewis Lewbronski.

He'd submitted the same water desalination project in a dozen different formats for the past five or six years. He'd taken fourth two times.

"Yeah, I'm entering this year," I said.

"What? The reigning champion won't be here?" he said.

"Well, I'm sure he will," I said. I checked my watch. In about five minutes, my mom would be home and if my papers weren't submitted by the time Barnie got here, all bets were off.

"So, what's your invention?" he asked.

"Well, you'll just have to see, won't you?" I teased.

I rolled my case in through the stage door of the theater, we'd each be presenting on the stage there. Today was a preliminary check in with the tech director, and I had to check the program data to make sure they'd gotten everything.

"You can't even do this, anyway," Barnie had said the night before, when I'd revealed he was on his own this season. "You haven't even qualified for this level of competition."

I pulled out a greasy, creased, ream of yellow pad paper and slapped it on the kitchen table.

"What?" he laughed. "Our contract from fourth grade? Are you kidding?"

In fact, I wasn't. In our initial agreement, I'd consulted Uncle Bart, the family attorney. And he'd recommended an Intellectual Property clause. All Barnie cared about was the attention, meanwhile, what he didn't know was that, legally, the prizes were mine, even though he'd been photographed accepting them.

It was fine. I really didn't care. I loved my brother, and several of our wins had come from innovations in my design he'd suggested. He was a really brilliant guy, just not an inventor. He'd end up writing, or acting, or something.

So there, in Bic Pen and yellow legal pad, was the phrase "Author of Things". I'd highlighted it for Barnie.

"Author of things?" he said. He laughed. "Seriously? That's your 'in'? You think they'll let you enter because you made me promise to call you Author of Things?"

"Oh I'm already entered. See, we've been filing under an LLC for years. An LLC that uncle Bart made me CEO of. My name is on all your paperwork, from seventh grade on," I said.

"What?" Barnie scrambled through his desk and pulled out last year's entry. He flipped through it.

I knew I was right, I'd filed every entry for the past eight years. Barnie couldn't be bothered. I had to admit, though, he did have a flare for presenting that I would miss. I sighed.

"Last page," I said, tightening a screw in my latest creation.

He read it. "You're serious?"

"You're leaving me out? What am I supposed to do?" He asked.

I sighed, "Look, maybe you should have thought of that all those weekends I was at the farm perfecting this, while you were off camping and going to the movies. You didn't help, you're not getting any credit."

"They'll never buy it," he said.

"There's nothing to buy, I've been the legit inventor of everyone one of your wins, and you know it," I said.

"But, we're partners," he whined.

"Sorry, bud, but you bailed. This one is mine," I told him.

"Sadie Green?" an official looking man with a big white clipboard called.

"Over here, I'm coming," I said.

I wheeled my box up to him and handed him the packet.

"Whoa, is that for real?" he asked.

I grinned, "Uh, yeah, been working on it for six months."

He smirked, "Six months, sweetie, these guys have been working on their entries for years, you know that right?"

"Well, that's too bad, don't know what to tell you," I said. "Maybe it's because I got everything right the first time."

"Yeah, okay, good luck," the guy said, stamping my papers. "You know a chick never wins this, right?"

"First time for everything,"I said.

I wheeled my kit into the bay marked "Green" in the scene shop, just off the stage and ran the aircraft cable lock around the handrail and through both handles of my flight case, then locked it.

Barnie met me on the way out.

"Give me my keys," he said, falling out of an Uber at the curb.

"Oh, I'm driving," I said. "If you're nice, I'll give you a ride."

He climbed in, beet red. I pulled away from the curb.

"I Just can't.."

"Uh, Barnie, you can shut up, or walk home, you choose," I said, pulling back to the curb.

He was silent the rest of the way home.

The next night, my family was there, when the same jerk who'd told me a chick had never won, delivered a white envelope to the state's "science czar". The Honorary Doctor Schmuck, some political hack with a bachelor's in biology he'd never used. He did have a great smile, and as my grampa pointed out, he filled out a tuxedo nicely. Two big requirements for the job, apparently.

"And the grand prize goes to, Sadie Green, with her solar powered, microwave propulsion unit!" the man said.

My brother groaned, my grampa laughed and my mother was weeping. Only my dad held it together.

"Good job, Sadie, we knew you could," he said.

I accepted the trophy, and the check for the scholarship. It was the proudest moment of my life. And now it was time to tell my brother.

"We have a patent," I said.

"We, kemosabe?" he said. "Thought I was on the outs here."

"Look, Barns, you're my brother. I had to do this. But, you know I'd never cut you out. You're one of the biggest reasons I ever started doing this to begin with. From day one, you were there, encouraging me, so, read this," I said.

"Green and Green inventions unlimited, patent issued," he said. "What?"

"Yeah, and Boeing wants to talk," I said.

He grinned,"No way! We're only seventeen!"

"Well, this is what happens when you have a genius twin!" I said.

That night, at home, I sat on the kitchen counter, drinking milk from the carton, staring at a photo. My dad caught me.

"Don't let your mother see that," he said.

He dug out cheesecake, served up two slices and took a swig of the milk, handing me the second plate and a fork.

"Whatcha looking at Sade?"

I turned the picture, it was Barnie, rocket wings in place, his freshly pressed suit, that he'd insisted on wearing, gleaming.

"You two make a good team," he said.

"Even if you are the brains behind the operation," Barnie said, from the kitchen door way.

I laughed,"Sorry about the cuffs, bro."

"It's cool, I'll pay you back for it. You have to sleep sometime."

Dad cut a third slice of cheesecake.

"Dear, you're not drinking milk out of the carton, are you?" Mom called from upstairs.

"No, of course not, honey! I know how much you hate that!"