The Journal of Curious Letters by James Dashner

“Ah, the cookies are done.” She turned and scuttled off toward the kitchen. “You two are just about the silliest kids I’ve ever-” A loud buzz from the kitchen cut her off. “Yeah, you’re a regular Mozart-well, except for the whole music thing.” “Uh, sis, you’re two years older than me-pretty sure you never changed my diaper.” “And to think I used to change your diaper.” Lisa folded her arms and shook her head, her eyes set in a disapproving stare. “Could you get me something to clean my face?” “I think I’m gonna be sick, Mom,” Tick groaned, wiping his cheek. She leaned forward and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. Instead of responding, Lisa stood up from the piano bench and walked over to Tick. Sounds like an armless gorilla is playing in there.” “Will do, once you give up beating that poor piano with a hatchet every day. “Dad whipped you by five touchdowns last time,” she said sweetly, folding her arms. Wavy brown hair framed a slightly pudgy face like she’d never quite escaped her baby fat. She turned around on the piano bench to look at Tick, her perfect teeth shining in an evil grin.

Lisa stopped playing her music, much to Tick’s relief, and, he suspected, to the relief of every ear within a quarter mile. “Oh, well, in that case, I’ll call and tell him it’s an emergency and to get his tail right home.” Mom threw her arms up in mock desperation. His mom laughed, even though he could tell she tried not to. “And you have no problem being named after such a creature?” Kayla looked up from her tea set, giggling.

“Yeah, it sucks your blood right before you squish it dead.” Tick pressed his thumb against his pant leg, twisting it with a vicious scowl on his face. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve ever heard. Why don’t you just call me ‘Tick’? Everyone else does.”

“Mom,” Tick said, “people stopped calling each other ‘Tiger’ a long time before I was born.

The Journal of Curious Letters by James Dashner