It seemed like the most sensible thing to ask. But for a few seconds, Juliana didn’t say anything, like she was struggling to remember how to speak again.

“Maybe a couple weeks ago,” she finally said. “I almost got in a fight. Found this place just after it.”

“What kinda fight? With who?”

This time, she didn’t answer his questions. “I needed a place to calm down. Sometimes . . .” She paused, and it looked like she was trying to find the precise words. “Sometimes, I get so angry I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“And so you found this.” Héctor waved around him. “This place.”

She nodded at first, then shook her head. “Actually, no. It’s never looked like this until today.”

“What?”

Juliana returned to the couch. “It was . . . different. Really dark. Only a few lights. And there was this huge beanbag in the middle of the room, and it was like . . . three times the size of my whole body!”

She seemed so excited when she spoke about it. But then she looked at Héctor. “Wait, how did you find the room?”

He took a deep breath. Could he tell Juliana the truth? Could he trust her? This was not something he’d had to think about a whole lot when he lived in the Mission, but now? Héctor recalled how quickly Mike had turned on him when he had said he was gay.

Juliana seemed nice. She also went to a school thousands of miles away from him. What could it hurt to tell her at least a little of the truth? She wasn’t going to affect his life.

“I was having trouble with some kids at my school,” he said. “And I needed a place to hide.”

“And this is what your room looked like?” Juliana smiled. “Not bad. This is pretty comfy.”

Héctor sat down next to her. “I know. And it has all my favorite games and my favorite food in the fridge and . . . well, it’s nice. I keep wanting to spend more time in here.”

Time.

Oh no.

He shot up from the couch. “Juliana, I’m sorry, but I’m going to be late if I don’t leave right now.”

“I don’t know if this is the case for you,” she said, “but I’ve actually never been late when I spent time here.”

“Wow,” he said, his eyes wide. “I thought I imagined that. I took a nap and had breakfast here once. Somehow, time reversed so I wouldn’t be late.”

“No way!” she said. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s not! It’s imposs—”

He didn’t finish saying the word; a grin spread over Juliana’s face.

“You were gonna say it. That word. Again.”

“I was. But . . . how do we explain this?”

“Maybe we don’t,” she said. “I don’t really care to. I’m just glad it’s here.”