Mami stood next to Abuela, and the two of them pierced him with their gazes. He swallowed down another spoonful.

“It was . . . bien. Okay. I don’t know.”

He focused on the bowl. On the little bits of oil he could see floating in the soup. On the—

“Héctor. Mírame.”

He looked up at his mami.

Oh no.

She had her hands on her hips.

He cast a glance at his papi to try to beg for help. But he was just as intensely focused on his posole as Héctor had been.

“¿Sí, Mami?”

Her smile was gentle, but her eyes were locked with Héctor’s. “Why don’t you know how school was?”

He sighed. “It’s nothing,” he said. “It’s just . . . weird.”

“Weird how, nieto?” asked Abuela.

He pushed his spoon around the bowl. When he looked up at his abuela, he could see concern on her face.

“I’m new,” he told her. “I’m just trying to find a place, especially since they don’t have a drama club.”

Abuela nodded at him. “Pues, that stuff is hard to navigate,” she said. “But you’re starting to make friends.”

“Sort of,” he said. The Misfits were certainly friendly with him. But did that count as actual friends?

“I know this is a huge adjustment, mijo,” said Mami. “But we’re all here for you.”

“Exactly,” Papi said. “Any time you need something, one of the three of us can help.”

He smiled. “I know.”

But Mami was swamped with her new job, and his papi had gotten a new commission to help plan a building in town. They were so busy. He didn’t want to add to it, to make them feel like he was a burden. So he saw this as the perfect chance to direct the conversation elsewhere. “Actually, Abuela,” he said, “I was wondering if I could come over this weekend.” He turned to his parents. “If it’s all right with you.”

“I’m free,” she said, and Héctor’s parents nodded at her. “What did you have in mind?”

He rubbed his hands together. “I think it’s time to teach me the family recipe,” he said.

She put a hand to her heart. “Am I hearing this correctly? You’d like to learn the legendary Muñoz tamale technique?” She gave Papi a pointed look. “Do you think he’s ready?”

“I don’t know,” his papi said, shaking his head. “Twelve. That’s pretty young. He might not be able to handle it.”

“Come on, Papi!” Héctor said. “Look, exploring Orangevale by foot was not a vibe, and hanging with Abuela is the only good thing about this place.”

Mami and Papi exchanged a look, and Héctor winced. Oh no, that was a little too forward. But they didn’t comment on it. “Well, I’m glad you’re trying your best,” said Mami. “You have my blessing.”