My brother Linus

I think I might be regaining some of my former status. I have a boyfriend and I've been asked to try out for cheerleading. Supposedly it's because of my moral fiber or something. Whatever. Since when did that matter? The cheerleaders in Texas didn't have any.

So even though I really wanted to, I was planning on saying no because daddy told me no cheering. But then West told me that I should and stalker/boyfriend tops dad in authority.

Sadly, my brother isn't excelling as well as I am. Back in Texas he had a few friends and was on some sort of flag football team or something. Here, he has no friends and couldn't make the chess club. Poor Twerp. The other day I found him playing with Dad's paper shredder.

"Hey... you. Wanna see my cheer?"

"It's Lyle. No. I'm busy,"

"Come on, I need, like, an audience,"

He kept shredding.

"Look, its not like you have anything better to do. And I don't think Daddy will be very happy when I tell him you're jamming up his favorite shredder,"

He got all red in the face and started stuttering. I took that as a sign to start.

"Ready! OK!" And I was just about to do my super awesome back hand spring when the little brat stabbed me in the side with a pair of scissors. "Linus, that was so not cool!" I shouted, stabbing him right back in the arm. He started bleeding and screaming and it took a minute to remember that we wasn't special like me. Oops.

"Suck it up, twerp, it'll heal over," I said. "Daddy! Linus is bleeding on the carpet. Hey! Do you wanna watch my cheer?"

"Dad! I think I'm gonna need stitches!" Linus/Lyle yelled over me.

In the end we got him a nice purple band-aid... After Daddy told me how great I was and bought me some new shoes. Seriously, I don't know what he complains about. If he's lucky he'll get a scar. Chicks dig scars. I do.

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