“I guess,” he said. “But I think you’re right. I was so sad over losing those friends that I wouldn’t accept that I had made new friends here.”

“That’s part of life,” said Abuela Sonia. “You learn to surround yourself with people who make an effort to be in your life. Do these new friends make you feel like you matter? Like they actually care for you?”

“Yeah,” he said, without hesitation. “They do.”

“They sound like keepers,” she said.

“Te amo, Abuela,” he said. “Just the way you are.”

She pulled him closer. “Just the way you are,” she repeated.

It was a promise.

Chapter Forty-Three

The next time Héctor walked through the double doors into Orangevale Middle School, it was like he’d stepped into a new world.

He needed help.

And it was okay to ask for it.

Maybe that was why the Room had shown up in the first place. He had asked the universe for help, out of desperation and sadness and fear, and it had provided. He still didn’t understand its magic or where it came from, but he couldn’t deny what the Room had done to his life.

He passed by the door.

JANITOR.

It wasn’t time yet, though. Héctor smiled at the Room. I’ll come back for you.

Héctor picked up the pace. He’d been thinking about this all morning, and perhaps it was time to tell a sympathetic adult. His first instinct was Mrs. Caroline, and he made his way toward her art class. She would definitely listen to him, and she’d promised to help.

Yet he found his body slowing in the hallway. What if she took Mike’s side? What if she took no one’s side, and nothing got solved? Suddenly, this didn’t feel like the right decision, and Héctor came to a full stop.

No. This wasn’t right.

How could he end this? How could he make Mike leave him alone?

Héctor turned back from the art class, aimlessly walking toward the entrance. He passed Ms. Heath, who merely nodded her head at him. A brief flash of nerves shot up his spine as he remembered what she last said to him.

He was done trying to tell people what had happened to him. And that’s when the first spark of an idea hit him: he had to show everyone what was going on.

He needed help for this, and he knew who he needed it from, but . . . where were the Misfits outside of lunch?

“Think, think,” Héctor whispered to himself. “Where would you hang out before school if you weren’t popular?”