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“You going to go invisible again?” he asked. He was standing right behind me, and his breath
smelled sour, like lemons.
I turned and shoved him back a few steps. “Get out of my face,” I said. “Your breath stinks.”
That started another stupid argument, of course.
I was sorry I’d ever come up here. I should have stayed in bed, I realized.
Finally, I persuaded him to stand a foot away from me. A major victory.
Yawning, I turned back to the mirror. I was starting to feel sleepy. Maybe it was because of the
heat of the attic. Maybe it was because I was tired of arguing with my dopey brother. Or maybe it was
because it was really late at night, and I was tired.
“I’m going to turn on the light,” I told him, reaching for the chain. “Tell me if I go invisible
again.”
“No.” He shoved his way right next to me again. “I want to try it, too.”
“No way,” I insisted, shoving back.
“Yes way.” He pushed me hard.
I pushed back. Then I had a better idea. “How about if we both stand in front of the mirror, and I
pull the light chain?”
“Okay. Go ahead.” Standing an inch in front of it, practically nose to nose with his reflection,
Lefty stiffened until he was standing at attention.
He looked ridiculous, especially in those awful green pajamas.
I stepped up beside him. “Here goes nothing,” I said.
I stretched my hand up, grabbed the light chain, and pulled.