“How about a little bike tour of the city?” Simon asks.

Even with the stress of biking, I have to admit that it feels good to get out. Simon takes the lead, which removes some of my anxiety, and we do a loop around the big park, which is paved and a little easier than bumpy brick roads.

“I got a call about a new house earlier today,” Simon says over his shoulder. “It’s historical, lots of them are, but it sounds like this one could be pretty special. We’ll save it for last.”

I have no idea what to say to this, so I make a vague “ah” noise, then immediately hate myself for it. Simon must think I have the spine of a jellyfish.

Simon glances back, his pedals spinning beneath him. “Perhaps later we could stop by the high school, see where you’ll be starting school in the fall. I even thought we could call around and maybe connect you with other students who will be in your grade?”

Panic bubbles up inside of me, although I manage to keep my gaze pointed forward. I do not want to be connected to a peer through some pity friend date. After years of being around a rotation of adults, I’ve figured out something crucial: adults go through some state of amnesia that makes them forget what it’s like to be a teenager. Otherwise, why would they come up with such horrible suggestions?

“Mmm,” I say, narrowly missing a curb.

He swoops in on the silence. “We can do that later. Before we get to the houses I have to check on, I’ll just show you around town. Get you oriented. Give you the Salem real-estate pitch.”

What I want to say is No thank you, but what comes out is “Sure.”

It’s all the encouragement he needs. He speeds up and I wobble after him, trying to listen but devoting about 90 percent of my attention to not crashing and dying. According to Simon, Salem is technically a suburb of Boston, but it has its own urban, college-town feel with lots of local businesses and plenty of quirky charm to give it its own identity. And even though it has a big tourist draw, most people live here year-round, with the population swelling temporarily near Halloween. The architecture is distinctive, boxy Georgian and Federal designs, which Simon attempts to explain the difference between, all painted in muted colors and pressed tightly together, lining the redbrick sidewalks.