I’m in eighth grade and I suppose that makes me some sort of big shot. That’s what Nonny thinks. I do really well in school and I have a lot of friends and I always hear my mother telling people on the phone that I’m “sought after by all the kids,” whatever that means.

Do I really think I’m the best?

I’m going to say the next line with very tiny letters, because if I say it any bigger than that, somebody might hear.

No.

But you see, when you’ve got a brother like Nonny, and he looks at you like you’re the sun and the moon and the stars all put together — well, it can kinda scare you into thinking you have to do everything right.

Allow me to illustrate with a story.

It all began about two weeks ago.