The Encyclopedia of Me by Karen Rivers

came clomping into the room, wiping grease off his hands. “I heard you talking about
Everybody
!” he said. “This is going to be so great.”
    â€œWhatever,” I said. “Big deal.”
    â€œIt IS a big deal,” he said, grabbing me off the couch and whirling me around the room and then throwing me back, nearly breaking my neck. “I’m getting the video camera! Let’s interview each other about how it feels to be famous.” He turned the camera on and started this pretty bad voice-over about how we’re going to be in
Everybody
magazine. And then.
    Then.
    The minute the camera hit Seb, he started an A-1 haywire meltdown freak-out. Whatever Charlotte Ellery wants to call it, it doesn’t change what it was.
    Which was terrible.
    I won’t say what he said, but it was a lot of swearing and yelling. At me. At everyone. When he gets like this, he’s said that he actually doesn’t even really see anyone else, but it sure seems like he does. Then he started hitting himself on the head with one of the encyclopedias. I think it was
S
.
    It was really hard to watch, but also hard to know what else to do. Sometimes when it happens, I feel like I become part of the wall. I am invisible. And I can’t move. I can’t look away. What happens to Seb seems totally private, but he does it in such a berserko way that it’s completely public, so you look. Even when you shouldn’t. Even when you don’t want to.
    Dad tried to wrestle the book out of his hands, and the rest of the pile of encyclopedias teetered and fell in a cloud of gold dust. The fan hit the floor and Hortense jumped and meowed so loudly, everything paused for a second while we watched her climb up the drapes. Then Seb let go of the book, pushed Dad off, and ran up the stairs into his room. He was sweating. His hair was soaked.
    He slammed the door so hard I could hear Lex’s signed, framed poster of LeBron James smashing on the floor. Then I heard Seb throwing more stuff around. I could see Lex’s jaw working, but he didn’t say anything.
    Dad sighed and put the camera down as though it weighed a thousand pounds. For a second, he leaned on the table. It almost looked like he was going to cry. Lex went, “I’ll go.”
    And Dad said, “No, I’ll do it.”
    â€œI don’t mind,” said Lex. “No big.”
    â€œLex!” shouted Dad. “I’m going.”
    â€œFine,” said Lex. “Whatever. Do your thing.” He sat down on a chair and started tipping it backward.
    â€œStop it,” I mumbled.
    â€œDon’t tip the chair,” said Dad. Lex ignored him.
    â€œDON’T TIP THE CHAIR!” Dad repeated.
    â€œSTOP IT!” I yelled. “It’s not Lex’s fault!”
    â€œHE’S TIPPING THE CHAIR!” yelled Dad.
    â€œBUT HE ISN’T WHY YOU ARE MAD!” I shouted.
    â€œHey,” said Lex. “Forget it. It’s fine. I’m not tipping. See? Nice work, Peacemaker.”
    â€œDon’t call me that,” I said.
    â€œGuys,” sighed Dad. “Oh, forget it.”
    We listened as Dad went and knocked on Seb’s door and Seb screamed, “Go away! Get the #^&@^&# out of here!”
    Dad called, “Go ahead, guys, go outside.”
    â€œBut . . .” I started.
    â€œGO,” he said. “NOW.”
    Dad gets way stressed out when Seb’s in his rage cycle. I should also mention that Dad handles Seb completely differently than Mom does. Mom’s done a lot of research and has all these elaborate steps that she follows, and the step she’d take right then would be to ignore Seb entirely. It’s part of the chart that she has attached to the fridge.
    Dad is the opposite. He always goes in and tries to hold on to Seb and hug him and go on and on and on about how much he loves him until Seb snaps out of it. Mom gets so mad when he does that. She says he’s