Luke has always been competitive, But when the new girl comes...
Wrapping Paper
“Jake!” I screamed up the stairs. “Get back here!” Jake, my older brother thundered upstairs, my basketball in his hand. We had just been playing one on one outside on the basketball court on the park. “Give me back that ball! Just because you can never get the ball to go through the net, you jerk!”
“I know you are but what am I?” He yelled. Ugh, he can be so stupid sometimes.
“Just give me the stupid ball!” I shout. He saunters down the stairs, trying to twirl the ball and his fingers. It keeps slipping and falls down to my feet. I snatch it up and dash out the door, Jake chasing after me. The door slams shut and hits Jake in the face. I dash down the street and to the court. I toss the ball up and it goes in the basket. I smile, grab the ball and run back home. I just won the game.
I open the door and Jake is there, sitting on the chair, ice pack on his cheek. He moans. Mom stands over him, cooing. When she sees me standing there, she looks up and frowns. “Luke, what did you do to your brother?”
I twirl the basketball. “Nothing, mom.” I look at him. “He’s probably just faking.”
She glares at me. “You did something! Look at him. He says you punched him after he won the basketball game you two were playing.”
I gawk at her. Did she really believe that? Jake is a liar. “He’s lying! He ran into a door, that’s what happened. He’s a liar.”
Mom replaced Jake’s ice pack. His face wasn’t even hurt! I was about to point this out, when mom started in again. “Luke, you really need to control you temper. It’s getting out of hand. And your competitive spirit. It’s good to be a little competitive, but this is crazy. I’m going to talk to you later about this.”
I glare at my brother. What a jerk. Mom left the room to get a snack for Luke. What the heck. He’s not a two year old. He’s only a year older than me. He’s 13 and I’m 12.
Right after mom leaves, Jake sticks out his tongue at me. I glare at him and stick mine out. Mom walks in and Jake covers his face with his ice pack just in time. I don’t.
“Luke!” Mom glares. “Stop tormenting your brother. I’ll talk to you later. Go to your room.”
I stomp up the stairs, hating my brother every step of the way.
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