Three Thousand Miles To Forget Your Face

My twin brother and I shared a bedroom for as long as I could remember.

My mother used to promise us that as soon as things got better, we’d each get our own space. I held onto that promise for six years.

When I was twelve, we finally cleared out the dusty storage den at the end of the hall to turn it into a second bedroom. My mother stood in the doorway and didn’t even look at me when she said, "Nate, you’re the older twin. Let Lucas pick first."

Lucas chose the room with the south-facing window and the extra closet space. I didn’t mind.