The Downside of Being Up Read Free Page A

afford a pool, my mother decided to make her children better than their children. That was seven months ago. In the time since, my sister has been enrolled in ballet class, science academy and some junior lawyers of tomorrow organization. Me, I was bought a cello, a physicist starter set and a kit on human genomes.
    Using the physicist materials, I accidentally set fire to the cello while my sister twirled the wrong way every eight minutes back at ballet class. Let’s just say that none of my mom’s plans to make her kids into supergeniuses worked out too well. And the Holstons still had their pool. Now this.
    â€œCan we move?” Hill asked.
    â€œYeah, can we?” I added. Leaving town seemed like a great idea. “I can be packed in an hour.”
    â€œShut up, Bobby,” Hill snapped. “If we move, you’re not coming. You’ve already destroyed enough of my existence in this lifetime.” Hill turned back to our mother. “Please, Mom? I mean, they had to take Mrs. Mank out on a stretcher and all the kids are telling their parents she was attacked by Bobby Connor’s puny baby boner. It’s like some sort of tongue twister they’re chanting around school.” My sister started to imitate our school’s new theme song. “Bobby Connor’s Puny Baby Boner. Bobby Connor’s Puny Baby Boner. Bobby Connor’s Puny Baby Boner! Try saying that three times fast.”
    I paused and thought about it.
    â€œShe’s right,” I said to my mother, who stared blankly off into space. “We have to move.”
    â€œShut your face, Bobby!” Hill yelled again.
    My mother sat worriedly in a chair.
    â€œOh my goodness,” she said, more to herself than to any of us. “My goodness.”
    â€œMaybe the boy just likes math,” Grandpa Ralph said, coming to my defense. “Like he really likes math. So much so that long division arouses his pickle?”
    I gave Grandpa Ralph a “What the heck are you talkin’ about” look. He smiled at me with crooked teeth and popped a purple jelly bean into his mouth.
    â€œJust wait till your father comes home,” my mom said. “Just wait, young man.”
    And sure enough, as if she had my dad on a string, a moment later his car pulled into the driveway. I gulped as my father, brown shoes, striped tie, white shirt, tan jacket over his shoulder, walked through the front door.
    â€œSo, what’s up?” he said.
    â€œBobby was,” answered Gramps. “But not very high.”
    â€œHuh?”
    My dad scanned the room, clearly sensing the tension.
    â€œLet’s put it this way,” Grandpa Ralph said. “Pork is on the dinner menu, and from what I hear, there ain’t very much of it.”
    â€œNot helpful, Gramps,” Mom said, shooting her father-in-law a look. Grandpa Ralph grinned at me and popped another jelly bean in his mouth. This time, green.
    â€œWe have a situation, Phillip,” Mom announced, and then she kinda nodded in my direction.
    Dad slowly turned. “Okay, what’d you do, Bobby?”
    â€œNothin’,” I said.
    â€œNothing other than ruin my life,” Hill added. “Again!”
    â€œI didn’t ruin your life,” I said. “Last year wasn’t my fault.”
    â€œâ€˜Last year wasn’t my fault,’” she mocked in a high-pitched voice. “‘I’m just innocent little Bobby, who only thinks about himself and never does anything wrong.’”
    â€œShut up, Hill,” I said. “It wasn’t my fault you missed all that school.”
    â€œâ€˜It wasn’t my fault,’” Hill repeated.
    â€œStop it! The two of you,” Mom ordered. She turned to Dad and explained. “Bobby paraded an erection in math class, which caused his teacher to fall and get sent to the hospital.”
    â€œHe did what?” Dad exclaimed.
    â€œHe paraded an erection,” Mom