...my little brother Mikey. At least I guessed it was Mikey; in front of me was a boy about eleven that looked remarkably like me including the cat ears, wearing a light purple teeshirt and black shorts over a light pink long sleeved leotard and ballet shoes.
"Hey Jonni," he said nervously, "C-can I come in?"
"Sure thing sweetie," I said, instinctively using a term of endearment I never would have in my old life. I stepped aside and he hurried in and hopped up onto my bed. Guessing he wanted privacy,might closed the door again and sat down next to him. I put my arm around him comfortingly and asked "what's the matter hon?"
He rested his head against me and sniffed. "Bully trouble," he mumbled, "I hate it when they make fun of me just 'cause I'm not macho."
I grimaced and glanced at the stone wondering if I should use it to help.
