You lied on your back on the tire swing outside your house as your twin brother, George—who you all called ‘Georgie’—sat on a chair by the swing. He watched you as you swung, bored, as a bored expression was on his own face. Suddenly, he perked up a bit. “Wanna go on a walk?” He asked, his Texan accent more pronounced with this new excitement. “Where?” You asked. “RadioShack.” George grinned.