I bit my lip. I wanted to tell him the truth all of the sudden, because I could tell he'd been honest with me, but I knew it wasn't safe.

"A mix up. A teacher reported this burn I got by accident."

Brandon nodded slowly. "So can't they just talk to your parents and clear things up?"

"Mom's out of town for the weekend. She'll be back soon."

"Oh. So then maybe you're not staying."

"Nope. I'm not."

"Good for you." Brandon stood and dusted himself off. "Andrew and Ryan are gonna be home soon, and I'm supposed to make sure they do their homework."

He didn't say goodbye as he turned to leave, and for some reason I decided that meant I should go with him. Another even larger woman, also in colorful clothing, was standing in the kitchen now, along with two younger black boys who looked like they were still in elementary school.

"And that's Alex. Hopefully just a temporary," Ms. Loretta said to the new woman.

"I'm Ms. Cecily, Alex." She stuck out a fleshy hand for me to shake, and I took it, mostly because Brandon was watching and I no longer wanted to seem like such a d.i.c.k in front of him. "Brandon, take Ryan and Andrew upstairs and get them started on their homework."

The boys followed Brandon, and I trailed a little further behind, wondering why n.o.body was telling me what I was supposed to be doing. Maybe that was a good sign, though. Hopefully it meant I wasn't going to be worked into their little system.

Upstairs, I plopped back on a bed...my bed, I supposed, and watched Brandon settle one boy into a desk in a room across the hall. He returned with the other kid and took the boy's folder out of his backpack, then thumbed through the papers before setting it down. "Get to work," he ordered. bed, I supposed, and watched Brandon settle one boy into a desk in a room across the hall. He returned with the other kid and took the boy's folder out of his backpack, then thumbed through the papers before setting it down. "Get to work," he ordered.

The boy glanced over his shoulder at me, baring crooked teeth. "New kid?"

"I'm not one of you," I spat, more severely than I'd intended. It was just that it was like the fifth time I'd been called that in a thirty-minute time period. I wasn't new, and I wasn't a kid. I was just...f.u.c.ked.

"Leave him alone, Ryan. He's grumpy," Brandon said.

A squeak and a rustle reminded me that the Seb character was still behind me. I whirled around to see if I'd get a better look at him this time, but he remained covered all the way up to his hairline.

"I'm not grumpy. I'm just not gonna be staying here. I'm sorry for you all if you got problems, but I don't."

Brandon rolled his eyes. "Dinner's at seven. See ya." He strode out of the room, and I immediately wanted to kick myself. Driving away my first potential ally in this d.a.m.n place was probably not the smartest thing to do.

Ryan started writing on a worksheet, ignoring me, so I lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Despite all my talk, I knew it was only that-talk. It would take a day or so until they reached my mom, if she'd only planned on a short trip. She'd deny Hector had done anything wrong, of course, but they'd probably want to talk to him anyway. And Hector wasn't really the talking sort.

Maybe he'd skip town?

That thought instantly chased most of the bad ones away, and I seized the opportunity to close my eyes and grab a few moments of rest.

Chapter 5: Bad. Very Bad.

"Dinner!" a woman's voice boomed. A loud, bra.s.sy woman's voice. Not my mother's.

Opening my eyes slowly, I took in the shadows that hung over wooden bunk beds, each perfectly made, and empty. This was not my furniture, and not my room.

The sheets I lay on smelled faintly of lilac. Not my bed.

I bolted upright as I finally remembered where I was. But in the dim light and without anyone around me, the whole thing seemed totally surreal. I was tempted to close my eyes again and let it all be a dream.

"You'd best be gettin' yourself down here if you plan on eating, 'cause you ain't gettin' nothing later!"

I picked up the edges of the pillow and curled them around my head, even if it wouldn't be enough to shut out that kind of a voice.

Footsteps pounded on the stairs, and a moment later Brandon appeared in the doorway. "Don't tell me you can sleep through Ms. Loretta's yelling...'cause if you can, I'm f.u.c.king jealous."

"What the f.u.c.k," I grumbled. "What time is it?"

"Dinner time."

"I don't f.u.c.king care." Why should I play house with these people?

"She wasn't kidding about no food later. The fridge and the cabinets have locks." Brandon smirked at me, one dimple showing in the hallway light.

Well, maybe one meal wouldn't hurt.

Dwayne, Ms. Cecily, Ms. Loretta and the younger boys were already seated around plates of chicken thighs and green beans. The table had a red cloth over it and it was fully set, with real silverware and gla.s.ses.

I stood back for a moment to take in the scene. I couldn't remember the last time I'd sat at a table for a meal-at home we ate in front of the TV, and our food tended to come out of a box. Definitely no fine china for us.

"Have a seat, Alex," Ms. Cecily said. She was a lot less brisk than her sister, but I still hesitated, feeling like an intruder in their foreign family ritual.

The food smelled good, though, and my stomach flipped, reminding me I'd had nothing all day but a bottle of water and some aspirin. I eventually slid into a chair next to Brandon and picked up a fork so I could nervously shove the green beans about.

"Those are for eating," Ms. Loretta said. "We don't waste food in this house."

I looked up at her round face just in time to see the last member of the household enter the room.

Seb the r.e.t.a.r.d came in carrying a pitcher of water. His thin figure, strangely pale for the neighborhood, surprised me...though he had a kind of brownish undertone to his skin, so I didn't think he was straight-up White. Definitely not with eyes like those-huge and almond-shaped, and so dark they looked black.

Ms. Loretta caught my staring. "You haven't met Sebastian?"

"Seb was sleeping," Brandon answered for me. "As usual."

Seb-or Sebastian-poured water in everyone's gla.s.ses, then sat down and silently began eating.

"Did you finish all your homework?" Ms. Cecily asked, of no one in particular.

"Yup." Ryan slurped in a green bean through crooked teeth. "Me and Andrew finished everything, and Brandon checked it."

"And you, Dwayne?"

Dwayne mumbled something with a piece of chicken in his mouth, and Ms. Loretta slapped his wrist. "Finish chewing first."

He swallowed. "Yeah, I'm done."

"What about that paper that's due Monday? Have you started?"

"Um..." Dwayne rubbed the back of his head. "I was gonna start tomorrow."

"And if I hear that excuse one more time, no TV until it's done."

The taller of the two boys-Andrew, if I remembered right-snickered. "Good, 'cause Dwayne never lets me watch what I want."

Brandon served himself a second helping of green beans. "Too much TV will rot your brain, boy!" he said, and I got the distinct impression he was mimicking Ms. Loretta.

Ms. Loretta must have, also, because she gave him a glare. "Watch yourself, boy."

I finally raised my fork to my mouth and pushed in a bite of chicken. I felt like I'd stepped into some kind of wholesome family TV show: a meal of veggies and proteins, two parent-types, and their annoying but loving family.

It was freaking me out.

I was definitely the which-one-of-these-things-does-not-belong which-one-of-these-things-does-not-belong, with my complete silence. Well, me and Seb, 'cause he hadn't said a word to anyone, either. He just kept shoveling food into his mouth, black eyes lost and unfocused.

When we'd finished the meal, each one of us took our dishes to the sink, washed them, dried them, and then replaced them in tidy cabinets. Ms. Loretta watched me do mine with her hawk-eyes, like she was afraid I'd do it wrong without supervision. Maybe she thought I wouldn't know how, growing up in whatever s.h.i.thole she'd imagined for me.

But unwashed dishes meant roaches, so I'd done a fair share of cleaning in my day.

Ms. Loretta nodded approvingly as I set my fork back in the drawer. "Suzie said she'd be by early to talk to you. You have a little over an hour to read and shower, then it's lights out. Don't be keeping my boys up-they have ch.o.r.es tomorrow."

She and Ms. Cecily headed off to watch TV in the living room, their wide backsides taking up the entire length of a ridiculously orange couch.

I followed the train of boys up the stairs, wondering if I should try to slip away during the night and make my way back home. It'd probably cause more trouble in the long run, but if I could at least warn my mom of what was going on, maybe she and Hector would have a chance to get their stories straight.

Then again, if I caught Hector at a bad time, he might just beat me senseless and worry about the consequences later.

"You wanna shower?" Brandon stood in front of a closet full of black metal crates stuffed with clothes. He tossed me a wrinkled t-shirt and a pair of faded gym shorts from some school I'd never heard of. "The boys go first, but they shower fast, 'cause they usually hate it."

Despite myself, I almost cracked a smile. I remembered that phase. "Uh, yeah, I guess."

Dwayne grabbed a book and climbed onto the bunk above Seb, who had somehow already managed to return to his coc.o.o.n of blankets. I sat on my bed and waited for further instructions "You need shoes for tomorrow?" Brandon asked.

"Yeah. Sure." If I did have to bolt, shoes would be a plus.

"What size?"

"Uh...like ten and a half."

More like nine and a half, but I wasn't going to make the mistake of outgrowing another pair anytime soon.

"Well, these are a ten." A pair of scuffed-up, ratty-a.s.s black Keds sailed across the room and landed by my feet.

f.u.c.king perfect.

"You don't have anything less...f.u.c.ked up?" I picked up the shoes by their laces, noting a sour odor.

"Hey, beggars and choosers, and all that s.h.i.t." Brandon laughed. I let him mock me without a fight, mainly because when he laughed it showed off his dimples. The skin in those dimples seemed a little paler than the rest of his face...like dollops of cream against some cinnamon.

Time to distract myself.

"So...uh...do they come up and check on you or some s.h.i.t? Or do they mostly leave you alone?" I directed the question to Brandon, since he was really the only one talking to me.

"If you do what they tell you to, they mostly let you be."

"How long you been here?"

"Just six months. Dwayne's been here the longest-almost a year now."

Six months to a year? Jesus, I hoped that wasn't going to be my fate.

"And what's wrong with him?" I jerked my head over toward the mound of covers that was Seb. "I haven't heard him say a word since I got here."

Dwayne rolled his eyes at me from his higher perch, turning a page in his book. "Seb's r.e.t.a.r.ded."

I glanced back at Brandon for a better explanation, and he arched his brows at me with a smirk. "I wasn't kidding before. He really is. He don't talk at all. They said there's something wrong with his vocal chords or something, but he don't write or do sign language, so he's gotta be r.e.t.a.r.ded."

"Oh."

I wondered if he were deaf, too, because he didn't stir at the conversation.

Scampering sounds followed by much more solid footsteps announced the younger boys and Ms. Cecily in the hallway. All three took a left into the room across the way.

"Showers're free," Brandon said, and a towel hit me square in the face. "Best hurry up before lights out."

"Are you gonna go fir-" I peeled off the towel to find Brandon undressing.

Oh, Jesus.

My fingers locked into fists as I looked away and concentrated on the strands of Seb's strange blond hair. "Uh, you first?"

"There's more than one shower." Brandon's laughter dragged my eyes back to him, but thankfully he now had his towel securely around his waist.

Only that left his entire torso exposed. His trim, caramel-colored torso.

I had a feeling I was going to need a lot more than the alphabet to get through this.

"Will y'all shut up now? I'm trying to read this s.h.i.t for a book report," Dwayne growled.

Unfazed, Brandon sauntered out of the room. I took three deep breaths, went through the alphabet backwards, and followed.

At the end of the hallway was a large green-wallpapered bathroom-yet more evidence of the sisters' tacky taste-complete with a double sink and two tiny shower stalls that looked like they'd been ripped out of a school locker room. They had plastic on the sides but only that cheap-a.s.s white curtain on the front. Brandon ducked into one with his towel still attached, then tossed it over the bar once he'd pulled the curtain shut.