The big wooden clock in the hall chimes twice, and Ginger stands up to take my dishes. I’m reminded that most people don’t always eat off plates you throw away.

“Your new caseworker will be here in an hour. Want me to run you a bath?” she asks.

“No, thank you.” It’s weird having someone cook for me and lay out clothes and try to talk to me about school. That’s not how Mom and I function. We’re a team, but we know how to take care of ourselves.

I shower in my new bathroom and put the old Hard Rock Cafe sweatshirt back on. That’s two showers in two days. A record. Then I sit on the big white bed and hold Mom’s guitar. I don’t play it—just close my eyes and let my fingers feel the strings, the back of the neck, the upper frets. I sing an old Willie Nelson song that was one of Mom’s favorites to pass the time and calm my mind.

When the doorbell rings a half hour later, it’s a symphony of bells. I walk out onto the landing and peek down at the top of Ginger’s and Dan’s heads. They give each other a look like they’re starting a relay race, and Dan tugs on the end of Ginger’s ponytail before she opens the door. Mom never dated, not really. I’ve never lived with two grown-ups under one roof.

Ginger is saying, “Please, please come in,” and I sneak forward to get a better look. Dan spots me and waves me down. If having two adults around means two sets of eyes, maybe it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I shake my head and take a step backward toward my room, but then Ginger turns now too and waves at me.

“Lou, come on down and meet Melissa!” she says in this weird high-pitched voice I haven’t heard her use yet.

I tuck my hands into my sleeves and shuffle down the stairs as slowly as possible. If Mom were here, she’d tell me to “stop draggin’ your feet” and “walk like you’ve got places to go,” but I don’t think she meant places like this.

Melissa, my new caseworker, is not what I expected. She has a pixie haircut and earrings that run up and down both ears. There’s one in her nose, too. She’s also wearing all black. I see a motorcycle in the driveway behind her. Melissa is cool. Maybe she’ll get where Mom and I are coming from.

She walks straight past Dan and Ginger and makes a beeline for me. I back up against the stair post.

“Hi. You must be Lou.” She cocks her head at me. “Maria’s talked you up.”

I swallow and nod. What am I supposed to say?