Do you share your food easily? With whom, and why?

I don’t. Do not touch the food on my plate, do not take a sip out of my glass, do not sip out of my straw, do not put something off your plate onto mine.

Once I was chewing gum. Tracy, then seventeen looked at me.

“Don’t have anymore,” I told her. She gave me the sad face.

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I stared at my toothbrush. Then dropped it in the garbage can. I grabbed a new one. I was not like Tracy at all however, Tracy and I are close. We are so much alike in our ways that mom said we were twins born apart and attached by the soul. So to Tracy, she loved that, and doing things like that with her brother didn’t bother her a bit.

I did and she popped it in her mouth and continued to chew it. I stared at her with a surprised look.

“Give me half of yours,” she said.

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“I’ll get one next time. I’m in a hurry.”

I’ve always been like that.

She even used my tooth brush once.

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“Yeah, out of your mouth. Where else?”

“Out of my mouth?” I asked.

“What?” she said. “Dad always told us we were made of the same stuff.”

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To put a face to my story, Tracy from her college yearbook.