* Taking out the bread from the freezer, Misha looked at the boy, beating the runny yellow goo in the big bowl with the whisk, a pile of broken egg sh...ll on the counter next to him, thick clumps of sticky egg white spreading out from the mess along the black granite counter top. ‘That’s it Jace, keep up beating in the air, it will make it fluffy when we cook it.’ The boy, balanced on the breakfast stool, wobbling with every beat of the whisk in his hand, yellow substance splashing over the. Their expressions were always the same -- trying to look embarrassed, but actually pretty happy. I knew the feeling; my Mom could make me feel that way every time she'd shout out my name at a Little League game or point me out in a school play.I guess I was feeling pretty down by the time my turn came. Maybe I was even crying a little, I don't know. When they called my name I walked toward the stage in kind of a daze; the faces of the kids around me were just a blur.Then I got up to the podium. More

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