Fifty-five minutes until my first day at Hills Village Middle School, and I was stuck at the breakfast table with Captain Irritation.
“What is that? Rabbit poop?” Rafe asked, eyeing my cereal.
“It’s muesli,” I said.
“Moose pee?”
My older brother is sooooo sophisticated. “Muesli is like granola,” I told him. “They eat it in Europe.”
“They also eat slugs in Europe,” Rafe pointed out.
“Snails,” I corrected. “Escargot.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “That word even sounds like barf.”
I looked over at Mom. Her face was quivering, as if she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or frown. I love my mom, and I have no idea how she can find Rafe funny. It must be a gene I missed.
“So, are you two excited for your first day?” Mom asked.
Changing the subject. Nicely done, Mom.
“I can’t wait,” Rafe and I said together. Only his voice clearly meant “I can wait,” while my voice meant “I’m so excited that I’m about to explode!”
“Just because you didn’t like sixth grade doesn’t mean that I won’t.”
“Yeah, because you’re nuts.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “It’s like prison in there. You’ll get eaten alive, Little Miss Pink Backpack with a Pony on It,” he growled.
“Mom!” I screeched.
“That’s enough, Rafe,” Mom said, casting a worried glance my way. “Stop trying to scare Georgia.” I knew she was nervous about my first day. After all, Rafe had had a pretty rough sixth-grade year.