Juliana’s phone buzzed and she took it out. “Guess we still get service in here,” she said. After a moment, she sighed. “It’s my big sister. She’s here to pick me up.”

Then she tucked her phone away in her jeans. “Do you want to do this again, Héctor? Like . . . maybe tomorrow morning?”

He smiled at her. “Yeah, I would like that,” he said.

“Okay, then I gotta go.” She grabbed her backpack from the couch. When she opened the door, it was still a shock. The hallways of Swifton Middle stood beyond the doorway. That’s never going to get old, he thought.

This time, when Juliana turned to look at him from the doorway, she waved at him.

Then she was gone.

He approached the door slowly, then ran his hands over the wood. It felt solid under his fingers. When he opened it, Orangevale Middle School beckoned to him.

Just like that. Without a sound, without any effort, this Room had taken him back home.

“I don’t understand you,” he said aloud, shaking his head. “But . . . you’re real.”

Héctor’s mind was in a whirl as he ran to get picked up.

Chapter Eighteen

This was not how Héctor thought he would be spending his Saturday.

His week had passed in a blur, and it seemed that every waking moment, all Héctor could think about was the Room. He had no theories about how it worked or where it came from. It was just . . . there.

Unfortunately, Héctor found that it was hard to focus on literally anything else. Schoolwork was a challenge, and at home, his head was in the clouds. His abuela noticed it on Wednesday evening at dinner, which meant she got to deploy her favorite Spanish saying:

“Héctor,” she said, and she was already grinning. “Estás comiendo moscas.”

Ugh. It literally meant “eating flies” in English, but sometimes things didn’t translate directly. It was her way of saying that his mind was wandering.

It wasn’t like she was wrong, though.

When he had gotten home from school on Friday, his mami was standing in the driveway. “Tengo una sorpresa para ti,” she said, and he could tell she was trying her hardest not to be too excited.

He loved his mother’s surprises. Usually it was a trip to the thrift store, or some piece of clothing that she knew he would love. Once, it was his favorite pan from the panadería. She always gave it a lot of thought, so this was finally enough to pull Héctor back to the present.

“I know you didn’t have a great time walking around the neighborhood,” she said, coming up to him as he got out of Papi’s car. She grabbed his hand and led him toward the front door. “So I thought maybe it wasn’t the exploring, but the method of exploration that needed to change.”