I wanted to read a kid’s book but I didn’t have any money so I couldn’t buy it. So I went to the library, but after looking for the book for such a long time, I just couldn’t find it. No matter where I looked, the book wasn’t there. So I had to ask the librarian. So I walked up to the librarian and asked the librarian. But I was sooo embarrassed because it was a kid’s book and I’m a pre-teen now, not a kid. And just as I was hoping I could live through the embarrassment of asking for a kid’s book as a pre-teen (almost a teenager 😜😎✊) the librarian asked me whether I was enjoying the series that the book was a part of. I didn’t know what to say; it was as if I was frozen and my entire life flashed before my eyes. So I did the only thing I could think of, and said I was getting the book for my little brother who just started to learn how to read. I told her that of course the book wasn’t for me, that a pre-teen like me would never read a little kids’ book and that I was almost a teenager, and that what she was saying was absolutely ridiculous, and that she should leave me alone. She looked at me weird and then said, “Oh, he must be a smart kid to read such books.” But I, of course, objected. I told her “No, my brother’s a retard and that makes sense because only a retard like him would read such a childish book meant for kids, and that a person of superior intelligence and high IQ like me would only read really advanced adult books, like the Art of War and Harry Potter.” She said “Okey-doke” and finally stopped grilling me about the recipient of the book. After she found the book for me on the shelf where it was supposed to be, I took the book and started running, because I couldn’t take it anymore. This has been weighing on my soul and conscience for such a long time now, and every time I remember it, I start shaking again. I am so glad that my secret is finally out in the world.