I skulked over to the counter and slipped onto one of the red stools, holding my copy of The Book Thief in front of my face. Please don’t notice me, I begged silently.

“Your mom’ll be right over, Georgia honey!” Pearl hooted. Pearl is the other waitress, and she always does everything at top volume.

Cringing, I glanced at Missy. She was looking right at me with narrowed eyes and a tight little smile. I turned my back on her as the pasta in my stomach threatened to revolt. Great. If Missy comes over, maybe I can barf on her.

“Hi, sweetie,” Mom said as she leaned across the counter and landed a kiss on my forehead.

I felt like I’d just reached a desert oasis. Mom will know how to handle Missy, I realized. “I need to ask you—”

“I want to hear all about it. I’ll be back in a sec.” She hauled a huge tray piled with dinner plates to a table by the window. It was seven o’clock, and the diner was packed.

The diner burned to the ground last year, but Swifty had rebuilt it with the help of a big insurance check, and it’s way nicer now than it ever was before. And more crowded.

Swifty shouted, “Order up!” and Mom hustled over to the grill to pick up the dinners. She held up her index finger, giving me the “One minute!” signal.

Argh—I didn’t have “one minute”! My problems had followed me all the way to my safe place and were threatening to attack.

I cast a nervous glance toward Missy’s corner. Her family was getting up to leave. Please, please, please just go, I thought.

I hid behind my book. The librarian had tried to tell me that it would be too hard for me. She must’ve had me confused with Rafe. (Note to reader: Rafe has never read The Book Thief or any other book except the CliffsNotes for the Captain Underpants series. Okay, I’m exaggerating. He also sometimes reads the menu at McDonald’s.)

A moment later, Mom brought me a glass of chocolate milk. Chocolate removed.

“How was your first day of middle school?” she asked gently, crossing her arms on the counter. Finally—some time for just Mom and me.

“Oh, it was—” I looked toward the table in the corner. Missy was gone. Good, I thought. Now I can really tell Mom all about it. “It was okay, but—”

“Excuse me?” A bald man held up his coffee cup. “Refill?”

“Sure.” Mom scurried away to grab the carafe. The minute she refilled his cup, someone else was ready to order. Then another table’s food was ready, people were leaving, someone dropped a spoon…. Mom got caught in the chaos, and I couldn’t reach her.

I wished she could just take a night off and hang out watching movies on the couch with Rafe and me. But she works too much. Even when she’s around, it’s hard to get her attention—because Rafe hogs it all.