Ted had eaten fourteen tater tots. Two more meant sixteen, which was how many he’d asked Shy to cook for him, but they were so salty and greasy, and he was so thirsty and full. Lately his parents had either been eating weirdly fancy gourmet food, or snacks like tater tots and Oreos. They used to order in a lot. Now they never ordered in, not even pizza. His mom was always cooking. They even made their own personal pizzas, with prosciutto and arugula on them. They were supposed to have capers on them too, but Ted picked them off. Two hours after bedtime he woke up to pee and found them sharing his box of Cocoa Puffs, shoveling them into their mouths with their hands like they were starving. Ted found this new behavior worrisome; he was thinking of asking the school nurse about it.

“You want the rest?” he offered his babysitter. She’d said her name was Shy, but that wasn’t a real name.

Shy grabbed the tater tots from off his plate and tucked one in each cheek. “I’m saving them for later.” She stood up from the kitchen table and gestured for him to follow her. Ted was a lot like her when she was younger. He thought he didn’t need anyone and was happy to just read and play games on his own. Really though, he was lonely. Together, they explored the two-story town house, looking for the next activity.

“Is there a game you want to play?”

“No,” Ted said. The only games he ever played at home were on his iPad. He wished he had Settlers of Catan, like at the Strategizer, but it was so complicated, he wouldn’t have been able to explain how to play anyway.

“Really? I love games. I like making up games. Like, I used to walk around our house in England counting all the green things. And then I would do it again and count all the blue things. Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

“I used to line up my mom’s nail polish bottles and count them. She has forty-three. Two are clear and the rest are colors.”

“So you don’t have any games in your room or anything?” Shy asked. Their house was small compared to her spacious brownstone. Ted’s room was messy, with just a single unmade bed and a round green table with two low blue stools. It wasn’t messy cozy, either—it was just messy. In one corner stood a laundry basket full of unfolded clothes. Shy knew she was spoiled. Nena came to clean and do their laundry every Monday. But was it really such a big deal to wash and fold Ted’s little skater-boy T-shirts?

Ted kicked the legs of one of the stools and it fell over. “I mean, we could make a game.”

“Okay.”