www.zjimenez.com - Every, Singel, Time

Every. Single. Time.

I love saying,

“I’m not doing it, and you can’t make me!”

My mom always fires right back with,

“Oh yes, you are!”

And guess what?

She wins.

Every.

Single.

Time.

That’s why I end up going to school every single

day. No matter what.

In class, I sit next to Pipino, the class

troublemaker. Nobody dares laugh at his name.

And right in front of us is Coco, the smartest kid

around—it’s like she’s got two brains. Maybe more.

And man, can she play soccer!

I’m not tall or strong. I don’t wear glasses or

braces either—though honestly, I think they’d be

kind of cool. They kinda give you a cool look.

_______________________________________________

I hate the word “share” (obviously made up by

adults just to torture us), but what I hate even

more is when the teacher goes,

“Matew, up at the board. Now.”

That’s me—the kid who always wishes he could

just go invisible. It’s never worked. Not once. And

I’ve never met anyone who’s managed to pull it off,

either.

My Uncle X says if I knew anything about

quantum physics, it might actually be possible.

Then he goes off about particles and some

experiment with a cat by this guy Schrödinger.

I just nod like I get it, but in my head I’m yelling:

“Give me a break! I’m just a kid!”

My Uncle X doesn’t want me using his real name.

Says fame’s not his style. He wants me to call him

“X,” because it sounds like a secret code—like I’m

in some spy movie or something. Fine. From now

on he’ll be my Uncle X. Works for me.

He’s cool—I like him and Aunt Elisa a lot.

My aunt still thinks I’m a little kid… and she probably always will. I don’t mind.

She still brings me dinosaur Band-Aids—straight

_______________________________________________

(the story continues in the full book)