I should be good; I’ve had a lot of practice. I’m only fourteen, but I’ve known for as long as I can remember that some people lead and some people get out of the way. It’s a universal rule. A cosmic inevitability. If you ask me, people who aren’t out in front are just looking at someone else’s rear end. My ability to lead is a gift. I must have been born with the innate ability to take control of the situation. See, people like being around someone who’s not afraid to exercise authority. I’ve shown my capacity to assume command ever since I first had a name tag stuck on my shirt in kindergarten; I raced to be the line leader every time we went to the drinking fountain or out to the playground for recess. I’m quick to raise my hand to volunteer to head class projects. I’m the one who took it upon himself to post the emergency exit routes out of our house and put together that disaster survival pack in our crawl space. Upon reflection, a loaf of bread probably wasn’t the best item to stash under the family room in case of a terrorist attack or severe-weather warning.
