When couldn't couldn't I get in trouble here? I get in trouble here?

"Fine. What do you have to do?"

"Our homework!" Ryan sang out. "We got to do our homework! We got to do our homework!" He danced around himself as he sang.

Kill me now.

I took them both downstairs to the dining room and dropped their backpacks on the table in front of them. "All right, then. Do it. I'll...come back to check on it in a while."

"But I need help!" Ryan protested before I could even take a step away, scrunching his nose and curling his lip to reveal his messed-up teeth. That kid really needed braces.

Andrew nodded solemnly. "Ryan always needs help."

I shook my head. "But you haven't even tried it yet. How can you know you need help?"

"Because I do," Ryan whined.

"Jesus, just take the homework out and f-...and try try it." it."

Ryan huffed and finally dragged out his folder. "Okay, but I'm still gonna need help."

I took my break upstairs. Seb had slipped in at some point while I'd been with the boys, and he was already hidden in his blankets by the time I reentered the room.

Lucky kid.

I stared at the back of his head for a minute or two, wondering if I should follow his lead, or go out back and quit being such an antisocial freak.

"Alex! I need help!" Ryan screeched. I need help!" Ryan screeched.

I rushed back down before Ms. Loretta could leave the meatloaf she was making and call me out for failing at my duties.

"What? What do you need help with?"

The scene I came upon stopped me in my tracks: three paper airplanes on the floor, and Andrew making a goal with his thumbs and index fingers as Ryan flicked a crumpled wad toward him.

"Aw, you've gotta be f-"

"Bad word!" Andrew warned.

I took a deep breath. "You've got to be kidding me. You haven't even picked up your pencil."

"Duh." Ryan rolled his eyes. "Because I need help."

Dwayne wandered past, the smell of his sweat thick in the air. I pretended to be hard at work studying the outside of Ryan's folder so I could ignore the fact he had had actually stripped off his shirt. I wondered if Brandon had as well? Maybe if I could sneak back upstairs I could catch him out the window... actually stripped off his shirt. I wondered if Brandon had as well? Maybe if I could sneak back upstairs I could catch him out the window...

"Ya know," Dwayne said, "it's easier if you separate them. They never do their work when they together."

Andrew's eyes went wide. "But I need help, too. Who's he gonna help first? My show's on in thirty minutes, and I gotta be done to watch!"

"Maybe you shoulda thought of that before you started playing paper football," Dwayne responded.

The headache I'd had earlier was gearing up for a sequel. Actually, I felt like I'd been in various stages of headache for at least a week now.

"Can you just take one of 'em?" I muttered, face buried in my hands.

"Okay."

Dwayne's reply startled me enough that I looked up. f.u.c.k, he had way too many muscles for a sixteen-year-old.

"Okay?"

He shrugged. "Sure. I can take Andrew up and help him since you probably too stupid to help him anyway. But what're you gonna do for me if I do?"

"Huh?" I blamed my less-than-brilliant response, as well as the fact that I'd ignored an insult, on the way the sweat coating his muscles gave them a brilliant sheen.

"I ain't gonna do it for nothin'. I'll take Andrew today if you mow the lawn for me this Sunday."

"f.u.c.k no," was my immediate answer.

"Bad word!" Andrew trumpeted.

"Jesus, will you shut up!" Whirling around, I very nearly clamped a hand over his mouth. "Fine." I jerked his chair back violently, and was pleased to see him flail from my efforts. "Take him. I'll mow the f-...I'll mow the lawn. Whatever."

Dwayne dropped his hand on Andrew's shoulder to lead him away. "Nice doin' business with ya."

Ms. Cecily came in just as I opened Ryan's folder to get a look at whatever it was a first grader-or was he in second?-well, whatever it was a kid his age was supposed to have for homework.

"Afternoon, Alex. Is Andrew doing his work? You know that one likes to sneak away and turn on the TV before he's done."

"Mhm," I mumbled, digging for a pencil in Ryan's backpack and then shoving it into his hand. "Dwayne offered to take him."

"Did he now?" She laughed. G.o.d, I really was the b.u.t.t of everyone's jokes here. "Well, you see that they finish up before Ms. Loretta has dinner ready. We havin' meatloaf tonight, my favorite."

I thought she'd had a few too many loaves of meat in her lifetime, but I just nodded so she'd leave us alone.

"Okay. So what all do you have to do?" I asked Ryan. He was doodling in the margins of a piece of paper he'd yanked out of his folder.

"Gotta write a paragraph about my family."

"So...do it."

"Yeah"-he stuck his tongue to the top of his crooked teeth and stared up thoughtfully-"but which family do I write about? My real one, or my foster family?"

Foster family. My skin p.r.i.c.kled with immediate rejection. No way was I part of any foster family. family.

"Write about your real family, kid."

"Okay." He nodded, gripping his pencil. It didn't quite make it to the paper, though. "I have a brother. Do you have any brothers?"

"Nah."

"My brother's bigger than you."

"Good for him."

"He plays football."

"Will you please just write?"

"You don't play football? Dwayne and Brandon do."

"No, I don't. And I don't want to."

"My brother Jordan was gonna teach me how to play."

"Well maybe if you finish your homework you can go back to your real family and he'll do that, okay?"

Ryan bit his lip, his eyes fluttering down. "Nah. He won't."

"Great brother you have there," I muttered. Though I was really one to talk.

Ryan's pencil finally started to move across the paper, and I sighed in relief. Thank G.o.d he only had to write a paragraph.

"'kay, done!" He shot up from his chair. "I'm gonna go watch TV!"

At last. I picked up the paper and was shoving it into his folder when I remembered Ms. Loretta had said they'd check to make sure things were done right. That wasn't really a big deal, though. I could just fix any mistakes myself-it'd be easier than having to drag the brat back over here.

Pencil poised with the eraser tip down, I looked at what he'd written.

I have a brothr. His name is Jordan. He play futball and he wus guna teech me but he ded now cuz he wus shot.

Oh, f.u.c.k.

I couldn't get away for the cigarette I so desperately needed until after dinner. It was really f.u.c.king hard to get any time alone at this place.

I crawled behind the shed again, but this time I sat facing left so I'd be able to catch Seb if he tried to sneak up on me. Not that I'd minded him all that much. Of all the people I was trapped here with, he was pretty much the most tolerable. At least he kept his mouth shut.

One cigarette shrunk down to the b.u.t.t, and I stamped it out. I'd told myself I was going to ration the pack-no more than three a week-but I really didn't have much resolve. The day had sucked beyond measure, from my complete lack of a life at school, to dissing a little kid's dead brother. Another cigarette was in order.

This time it was only a slight breeze that caused me to look behind me, where I saw Seb standing inches away.

Little f.u.c.ker. How had he managed to get through the barely-one-foot clearance on the other side of the shed? And why?

I stood up and crossed my arms. "Really, man?"

His eyes bounced slightly, but his face remained completely expressionless. Maybe the r.e.t.a.r.d had a sense of humor?

"I hope you didn't come for another cigarette, 'cause I ain't gonna waste any more on you."

More bouncing black eyes.

"Well, if you gonna stay, then sit down."

I did first, and he followed my lead. More comfortable leaning straight back against the shed, I rested my head and stared up at what would've been stars, if not for all the light pollution. "s.h.i.t, I've had a lousy day. Did you know that Ryan kid's brother was dead? Do you know what happened?"

Seb had started digging in the dirt again, tracing out spirals...and I really needed to learn to stop asking the kid questions.

"Well, I'll ask Brandon or something. I just wish I woulda known. I sorta said something stupid. I mean, he didn't say nothing about it...maybe he'll forget. Kids forget s.h.i.t like that, right?"

He lifted a pinch of dirt and then opened his fingers, letting the breeze carry it away.

"I'm such a r.e.t.a.r.d...uh, no offense or nothing." I sighed. "I guess I just forget that everyone has their own s.h.i.t going on. Maybe I've had my head up my a.s.s...but today at school was just such complete c.r.a.p."

Shifting his weight, Seb turned to look at me. I took that as my pa.s.s to go ahead and complain some more.

"Do you know what I did during lunch? I ate alone. No one f.u.c.king said a word to me, so I finished in like five minutes and went and hid in the bathroom. Me, hiding in the bathroom! Can you f.u.c.king believe that s.h.i.t? That ain't me. I don't hide in the bathroom unless I'm waiting to make a f.u.c.king deal or something!"

I clamped my mouth shut, embarra.s.sed by my sudden outburst.

"This place..." I continued more calmly, "this is just not me. I don't belong."

Seb wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving behind smudges of dirt, then gingerly reached over to me. I held still until his fingers came to a stop millimeters above the gauze on my wrist.

"Oh, that?" I laughed bitterly. "Well, that's it. That's why I'm here."

Now that he'd drawn attention to the area, it started to itch. I scratched a bit through the fabric, but it didn't really offer that much relief, so I went ahead and unwrapped it. Seb appeared fascinated, and I let him brush his pinky along the outskirts of the wound. It was healing up now, but it still looked pretty nasty, with red and pink rivers of flesh running through it.

"It don't really hurt anymore...and it definitely wasn't worth all this s.h.i.t. See, what happened was, this b.i.t.c.h teacher-"

One of Seb's fingers accidentally touched a part of the wound, and I inhaled sharply through the pain. "Hey, watch it."

He shoved his hands back into the dirt.

"Anyways, I was saying, this b.i.t.c.h..." but I faltered there, thrown off by Seb's wide, attentive eyes. I shook my head slowly. "Okay, so I guess she's not really a b.i.t.c.h. I mean, I don't think she liked me very much, but I wasn't exactly a good student. I guess she was just doing her job. She thought my mom's boyfriend did this to me."

Seb c.o.c.ked his head, eyes narrowing. It was probably just my own thoughts getting in the way, but I really imagined that look said, And did he? And did he?

I bit my lip. "You sure you can't talk, right?"

No response.

Blowing out a breath, I finally gave in. "Yeah. Hector did it. He's done other s.h.i.t, too...but it wasn't gonna go on forever. I had things under control."

Seb's eyes drifted to the ground. He scooped up a handful of dirt and deposited it in a neat little mound, then smoothed out the sides.

"So, whaddaya think, Seb-should I stick around? Or run away and try to find my mom?"