My Big Brother Always had a short fuse but now it's permanently lit. Okay, it was never hard to set Will off. It used to be a game I played, mostly just for kicks. It was funny, watching the blood throb in his temples. But sometimes, when trouble was staring at me and I wanted to aim it in a different direction, I'd rile Will up until he blew. Then, when Mom or Dad started griping about my behavior, I'd point at my brother, all red-faced and cussing, and ask, "What about Will?" I never thought I'd get sick of that question. Check It Out It's been a long time since I've said it straight to my brother's face, but I love him, wicked bad temper and all. We used to be best- friend brothers. Will's seventeen, which makes him five years older, and I've always looked up to him. Mostly because he never looked down on me. When I was like four, and most other kids still rode tricycles, Will took the training wheels off my little blue bike and taught me to ride it. You can't keep up on four wheels, Trace , he said. Even on two, it took a while, but eventually, I did. At least, I came close. Excerpted from What about Will by Ellen Hopkins All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
