![]() ![]() I’ve always been an excuse for him to drool over the Princess of Perfection. Even when I used to help him run lines for the school play, he always made sure Laina would be around. I scramble to my feet, smoothing my clothes and yanking my hair into a loose bun. I ignore a sharp knock, but Mom opens my door anyway. ![]() I’m so not in the mood to sort through my clothes for Laina’s annual clothing drive. I throw my shoes, one by one, into the middle of my bedroom floor. Keeler didn’t always compare me with Laina, I wouldn’t need to ditch. My A-plus in history should have balanced it out.Īfter more than a week of serious butt kissing, I almost convinced Mom to ease up on my sentence, but then Laina piped up with maybe if you stopped skipping class, you wouldn’t be failing. It’s not like one little D in biology would have ruined my life. ![]() I grab the last handful of hangers out of my closet and hurl the clothes onto the growing pile on my bed. ![]() And if my sister weren’t so freakishly perfect, I wouldn’t still be grounded. Hello, my name is Andrea Andersen, and I am a second-class sibling. We could sit around and chat about how our flawless family members are systematically destroying our lives. Something like AlaTeen, but without the drug talk. There should be a support group for kids with perfect siblings. ![]()
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