I look at my new set of felt-tipped pens. There are thirty-six, all lined up neatly in the holder on my desk. Well, they’re neat now. At first, Forest Green was out of line by a sixteenth of an inch and Magenta’s label wasn’t facing straight up, but I got them back into place. So now, they’re perfect. Satisfied, I settle onto my pink canopy bed and open my book.
Then it starts. Thumping, thumping, and more thumping.
Then humming—the theme song for Robo- Knights, a cartoon about robot knights on wheels who don’t seem to do anything except crash into each other.
Then thumping and humming together.
“Mason!” I holler.
My door opens, and my seven-year-old brother sticks his head into the room. “What, Jerzey Mae?” he asks. He’s wearing his striped brown shirt, which makes his huge brown eyes look even darker. And his eyelashes are so long they look like giraffe eyelashes. It figures—he gets the long eyelashes, not me or either of my sisters. He dribbles his basketball as he watches me.
I sit up on my elbow and stare at him. “I’m trying to read. Can’t you stop humming and banging that ball around for two seconds?”
He looks at his watch, the big digital one Mom gave him for his last birthday. “Okay.” He stops the humming and the dribbling. Exactly two seconds later, he starts again. “You said two seconds.” He grins.
I jump to my feet and close the door in his face. I hear him laughing, “Hee hee hee!” as he dribbles down the hall. I yank open my dresser drawer and pull out some earplugs— pink, to match my room—and stuff them in my ears.
