Now for some Carly POV.

Principal Franklin seemed like an okay guy. He listened to his students. He thought up great solutions for the school. Overall, he was an intelligent man and I thought he was pretty likeable.

That was until he decided to have spirit week.

The first four days were okay.

There was western day which, in my mind, Gibby took all too seriously. (There were still piles of horse manure in the halls.)

There was pajama day. (Freddie was mysteriously absent.)

On Wednesday, everyone had to wear school colors, which I really think they should change. (Gray and brown are not cheerful at all.)

And I don't know how she did it, but Sam got Principal Franklin to have International Food day in the cafeteria. Sam was finally able to achieve her dream of eating ham from every country. (And she still cleaned out my fridge when we got home.)

So spirit week was drawing to a close. The excitement was dying down. Then, when I was checking the school website for homework, I saw it. Tomorrow's theme.

Bring Your Older Brother to School Day.

I hate Principal Franklin.

"Are you going to behave?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to raise your hand in class instead of shouting out?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to avoid, at all costs, setting objects on fire?"

"As best as I can."

I sighed. "Fine, Spencer, you can come."

We got to school in record time.

When we walked through the front doors, I was relieved that some other kids had also brought their older brothers.

Sam and Freddie were waiting by my locker. Well, actually, Sam was busy ogling all the older guys walking around. Freddie was standing there looking slightly, dare I say it, jealous.

"Sam, you have a little drool in the corner of your mouth."

She and Freddie spun around. Simultaneously, they said, "Hey Carly."

After a couple slaps, they both realized that Spencer was standing behind me.

"Hey, Spence, what are you doing here?" Freddie asked.

Spencer grinned. "It's Bring Your Older Brother to School day."

He started doing his "Elevator Repairman Dance" (no idea why he calls it that) and already I'm regretting my decision of bringing him here.

Sam smirked and looked around. "Ooooh, so that's what this is. I just thought it my early birthday present."

Freddie glanced at his watch and laughed nervously. "Look at the time. We should be heading toward first period."

And with that he grabbed Sam's wrist and dragged her to English. (Did I mention Freddie's gotten stronger?)

I turned to Spencer who, by now, was drawing quite a crowd.

"Spencer, stop it. You're making a scene."

Due to his current state of dance inebriation, Spencer didn't hear me. He answered with tap, tap, tap.

"Spencer."

Tap, tap.

"Speeeenceeeeer."

Tap, tap.....tap.

I took out my phone and looked at the time. Noodles.

"SPENCER!! I HAVE 30 SECONDS TO GET TO PRE-CALCULUS!!!"

He froze. "Why didn't you tell me!?!"

"Well, you were—"

My sentence was cut off as Spencer picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and took off. In the wrong direction.

"Turn around, it's the other way! Up the stairs, third floor, fourth door on the right."

Spencer let out a groan. He skidded to a stop and reversed direction.

20 seconds.

Spencer started to slow as we went up the stairs. I decided he needed encouragement.

"Come on, Spencer! Move those legs, man. Usain Bolt's got nothin' on you!"

10 seconds

We made to the third floor. Spencer panted as we sprinted down the hallway.

5

Doors flashed by.

4

Spencer grabbed the handle.

3

He turned it.

2

He wrenched the door open.

1

We burst into the ...Spanish classroom?

The bell rang.

"Spencer, FOURTH door on the right."

"Oh."

I was late to Pre-calculus. And the teacher made me explain why I was late in front of the whole class. So I ended up introducing Spencer who made a point to shake everyone's hand on the way to my desk.

The whole time in class, he kept raising his hand to ask ridiculous questions such as: "How come eleven isn't firsteen and twelve isn't secondteen?" and "If I concentrate hard enough, will X find me?"

English wasn't any better. I had to present a report on Wuthering Heights. Guess who clapped the loudest. Bingo. Before AND after my presentation, Spencer stood up clapped and cheered and pointed out to everyone that I was his sister Carly.

Third period, I had health. Spencer got kicked out halfway through. No need to elaborate.

Lunch was...strange. Sam had a half a cold pizza. (I decided not to ask.) Freddie had a sandwich. I planned to pay for lunch with the three dollars and fifty cents in my pocket. I'd forgotten to tell Spencer to bring money and when he found out it was $3.50 to get lunch he refused to pay that much for a "lameburger". So what did he do? He went around asking kids for little bits of their lunches until he amassed a stockpile of various foods. Everyone in the cafeteria watched as he mixed all the ingredients together in a bowl he took from someone, grabbed a fork, and proceeded to dig into his "super-salad". Let's just say many kids looked a little bit green.

World history was okay. And I say it was okay because Spencer didn't disturb the lesson in any way. He quietly slept through the whole class.

Now, we're in my last class of the day. And I can truthfully say that I regret ever signing up for art.

When all the students and brothers were seated at individual stations, the elderly teacher began.

"Good afternoon class. For those older brothers who don't know who I am, my name is Mrs. Headlyburg."

Spencer snorted and I elbowed him in the side.

Mrs. Headlyburg continued. "So far we've covered basic drawing and basic painting so now I think were reading to move on to basic sculpting."

Dear God.

Spencer grinned and started fidgeting in his seat.

"Use the materials from the bin at the front of the class. Please finish ten minutes before the end of the period so I can comment. Begin."

Spencer was up and out of his seat before anyone else reacted. His arms were full of random materials when retreated to a corner to work. I didn't hear from him for the rest of the period.

Time passed.

"Okay, dearies, time to see what you've created."

Mrs. Headlyburg walked around examining each person's sculpture. She occasionally let out an "Mmm hmm" and an "I see".

She stopped in front of my sculpture. Her eyebrows rose to her hairline. It was disappointing to say the least. My pitiful wax/clay/feather sculpture resembled the failed baking of a cake.

"Ms. Shay. What is this?"

I replied nervously. "Um...it's supposed to be a bird taking flight."

"Well, good effort, but it seems that the bird has melted and congealed into the Blob. Go home and practice, Ms. Shay."

"Yes, Mrs. Headlyburg."

She walked past me and continued check the other sculptures. I was putting my sculpture in my bag when I heard a shriek.

"MY WORD! What is this monstrosity?"

I froze and closed my eyes. Please don't be Spencer. Please don't be Spencer. Please don't be—

"This is a walrus cooking a delicious breakfast of bacon and eggs." It was Spencer.

I turned around to see Mrs. Headlyburg gaping at a sculpture that was very big, very tall, and very messy.

Mrs. Headlyburg regained the ability to speak. "Do you think this is funny?"

Spencer looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I ask you to create art and you give me a walrus cooking ham and—"

"Bacon."

"What?"

"He's cooking bacon and eggs. You said ham."

Mrs. Headlyburg did not look happy. "Whatever. This cannot be considered art. Real art is supposed to have meaning. Real art is supposed to say something."

Spencer was frustrated. "What is it with you teachers and art? Why does art have to be boring to you guys? Why can't art be about having fun and being random?"

"Because it just can't. Now, I suggest you remove this...thing from my room."

She started to walk towards Spencer's sculpture.

His eyes widened. "No, don't touch—"

But it was too late. Mrs. Headlyburg's hand made contact with the sculpture and it collapsed. On her.

We were in Principal Franklin's office.

"Is she going to be okay?"

Principal Franklin replied, "Yes. She didn't sustain any major injuries. She's going to be fine."

Spencer sigh of relief.

Principal Franklin continued. "However, she is going to be out for a couple months. I need a new art teacher. Are you interested?"

I shook my head and made cutting gestures across my neck, trying to get Principal Franklin to retract his offer.

Spencer answered. "Why, I would love to."

He turned to me. "Did you hear that, Carly? I'm gonna teach here for a couple months."

My name is Carly Shay and this is my life.

How was it? Please Review.

A thanks to pigwiz for getting Wuthering Heights stuck in my head. :)

*By the way, for any of you who are reading my story "My Mistake", its status is now incomplete. The next chapter will be posted by Tuesday Dec. 22.