“HECK-tor,” the kid said, grinning.

Héctor winced. His name was pronounced wrong all the time, so he was used to telling people about the accent mark and the right way to say it. But suddenly, he wasn’t sure this was the right time to correct anyone.

“Well, nice to meet you, HECK-tor.” The kid stuck his hand out. “I’m Mike, and I’m going to be your best friend.”

Héctor’s mouth fell open a little. “You are?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “I can tell you have style. You’re unique. And I think you should join me and my friends at my table.”

Héctor leaned to the side to look past Mike toward where he was pointing. Over near the table between the sports kids and the popular girls, there was a half cafeteria table with two other boys at it. They seemed deep in some discussion with one another, until they turned exaggeratedly and stared at Héctor and Mike.

Were they laughing?

“Think about it,” said Mike, clapping his hand down on Héctor’s shoulder. “You’d be a good fit.”

He sauntered off. Héctor watched him as he sat down at the smaller table with his friends, then turned back to the Table of Misfits.

Aishah looked like she was going to be sick. Jackson was sweating, and Carmen wore a tight frown on her face. Even Taylor was avoiding Héctor; he furiously texted someone under the table.

“So . . . what’s going on with y’all?” said Héctor. “Are we at a funeral or something?”

“Bruh, don’t do it,” said Jackson, standing up. His food wasn’t even eaten, but he dumped it in the trash can at the end of the table. “It’s not worth it.”

“Don’t do what?” Héctor asked.

“Mike is not your friend,” said Carmen. “He and the Minions are the worst.”

“The what?”

“The Minions,” explained Aishah. “Carlos is the Mexican kid, Frank is the white one.”

“Why are they named after those things from the Despicable Me movies?”

“They do whatever Mike tells them,” said Taylor, brushing his blond hair to the side. “Whatever he says.”

“So . . . what is he? Like, the school bully or something?” Héctor shrugged. “I’ve dealt with bullies before. They’re all the same.”

“Not him,” said Carmen. “Trust us, there’s a reason we’re all at this table.”

“He tries to be your friend,” said Aishah. “Or at least that’s what he was like to me.”

“He did the same to me,” said Carmen. “And he’s nice and he’s popular, and all the teachers here like him.”

“So it seems like everything is fine, unless you know better,” explained Taylor.

“And then he turns on you,” continued Jackson. “He did that to me the first week of school. That’s . . . that’s really why I’m sitting here and not with the rest of the band.”