It was a single story. Sprawling. The green grass of the sports field stretched so far back that Héctor couldn’t even see the fence on the other side of campus. Did it go on forever? Probably. Everything seemed to in this town. Long streets, an endless horizon, so much space. There were no buildings leaning up against one another, no growing and diving hills with homes that seemed like they were riding the wave of the earth.

Other kids were streaming up the steps into the school, and he took a deep breath. “I can do this,” he said, almost to himself.

But his mami heard him. “I know you can,” she said, and then she reached over and grabbed his hand. “You’re amazing, mijo. You’re gonna make so many friends, and everyone is gonna love you.”

“They better,” he said, grinning. “I put on my best outfit for them.”

“Go impress ’em,” she said, then kissed him on the forehead. “Be the Héctor I know and love.”

“It’s a new stage,” he said. “And this is opening night.”

“That’s a neat way to think of it,” said Mami. “You gonna join the drama club today?”

“If I can find it,” he said as he opened the car door and jumped out. “Papi is picking me up, right?”

She nodded, and Héctor blew her a kiss. He shut the door. She drove off.

And then it was time.

Héctor Muñoz stood at the bottom step, kids streaming around him and into the wide-open double doors. So. This was his new school. It felt even stranger that his first day here was at the beginning of October, too. No matter; he had to make a good impression.

So he joined the flow, and moments later, he was inside his new school.

The halls were bright, the tile shiny, and the echoes of voices and scuffling shoes bounced around him. The energy felt . . . different. It wasn’t as loud here as his last school. No one was reciting a monologue in the hallway, or singing, or practicing a synchronized dance routine. There weren’t any kids running with a giant canvas hoisted on their back. As he counted six kids wearing green cargo shorts, he deeply missed Tim and Sophia, his best friends back in the Mission. I’ll have to text them, he thought, and he pulled out his phone.

“No phones out in the halls!”

The voice rang loud and clear, just off to Héctor’s left, and he froze in place, long enough for someone to bump into his backpack.

“Out of the way,” the girl whispered, and she looked over Héctor from head to toe, then shook her head, her blond curls bouncing back and forth.

Seriously? he thought. Did she just judge my outfit?