I repeat the word to myself and make a silent promise to Mrs. Monroe I will use it in a sentence three times today.

“Take your seats,” the bus driver calls. “Time to get moving.”

Sapphire plops down in our seat and smooshes me up against Karina.

She grins at me and sticks out her hand. “Hi! Remember me? I’m Sapphire Creede, but everybody calls me Fire.” She grabs my hand and shakes it like she’s trying to wring out a wet towel.

“I’m Piper,” I say. “Just Piper.”

A girl across the aisle waves and says, “I’m Luz. I was at the meeting too. And this is my little brother, Marco.”

A kid behind me taps me on the back. “Hey, I’m Jerome. This is my running buddy, Noah.” Jerome punches Noah in the shoulder. “I’m the good-looking one, he’s the smart one.” Noah blushes and looks away.

Sapphire hoots with laughter. “Don’t you wish!”

I smile and relax. I like how they tease each other, just like my old friends did.

I let their voices wash over me while we make our way through the neighborhood. We pass the Sixth Street Community Kitchen. There’s a long line of people waiting to get breakfast. We pass the Christian Center. We got winter boots there on Saturday. I curl my toes in my warm boots and smile. I run my hand over the bright-red-and-blue backpack I got full of school supplies. All of it donated. Some of the other kids on the bus have the same backpack. I hear Mrs. Monroe say, “Use the word in a sentence, please.” The people who donated the supplies and backpacks are magnanimous.

We stop at two more shelters to pick up more kids. The bus is full now. I didn’t know there were so many kids in the world without a home. I always thought homeless people were grownups. Not kids.

The bus comes to a stop in front of a school. The sign says Ridgeline Middle School.

Karina and some other kids get up. She slings her backpack onto her shoulder.

She eases past me. “See you later,” she says.

My heart jumps. “Wait, why are you—” But she doesn’t hear me.

I watch her on the crowded sidewalk, wondering why she got off at the middle school instead of the elementary. A few other kids join her, including Jerome and Noah. They turn away from the school instead of going in it and walk in the same direction we’re going.

I look at Sapphire. “Why did they get off the bus?”

She fidgets with something in her coat pocket. Finally, she says, “They don’t want the kids at school to see them get off this bus.”

“How come?”

“Because, ‘Just Piper,’ then the kids will know they live in a shelter. This,” she says like she’s explaining things to a two-year-old, “is the homeless bus.”