Hey, Shell-bell," I say, leaning over her and wiping her face with a napkin. "It's the first day of school. Wish me luck."<br />Shelley holds jerky arms out and gives me a lopsided smile. I love that smile.<br />"You want to give me a hug?" I ask her, knowing she does. The doctors always tell us the more interaction Shelley gets, the better off she'll be.<br />Shelley nods. I fold myself in her arms, careful to keep her hands away from my hair. When I straighten, my mom gasps. It sounds to me like a referee's whistle, halting my life. "Brit, you can't go to school like that."<br />"Like what?"<br />She shakes her head and sighs in frustration. "Look at your shirt."<br />Glancing down, I see a large wet spot on the front of my white Calvin Klein shirt. Oops. Shelley's drool. One look at my sister's drawn face tells me what she can't easily put into words. <i> Shelley is sorry. Shelley didn't mean to mess up my outfit. </i><br />"It's no biggie," I tell her, although in the back of my mind I know it screws up my "perfect" look.<br />Frowning, my mom wets a paper towel at the sink and dabs at the spot. It makes me feel like a two-year-old.<br />"Go upstairs and change."<br />"Mom, it was just peaches," I say, treading carefully so this doesn't turn into a full-blown yelling match. The last thing I want to do is make my sister feel bad.<br />"Peaches stain. You don't want people thinking you don't care about your appearance."<br />"Fine." I wish this was one of my mom's good days, the days she doesn't bug me about stuff.<br />I give my sister a kiss on the top of her head, making sure she doesn't think her drool bothers me in the least. "I'll see ya after school," I say, attempting to keep the morning cheerful. "To finish our checker tournament.