They kept me in the living room for another thirty minutes after the shed.
Amanda had forms. Stef and Lena had questions. The normal stuff. School records, any medications, allergies, emergency contacts. I did not have a lot of answers for some of those but I gave what I had.
At some point Amanda squeezed my shoulder, said she would check in next week, and left. And then it was just me and the two of them.
Lena leaned forward a little. The kind of body language that means I actually want to hear this.
"Tell us about yourself," she said. "Not the file stuff. You."
I thought about it for a second.
"I draw," I said. "Mostly anime style but I do original stuff too. Portraits, paintings. I was selling commissions at my old school."
"Can we see?" Stef asked.
I pulled the sketchbook out of my bag and handed it over. Watched their faces while they went through it. That is how you know if somebody actually gets it or if they are just being polite. Stef stopped on a double page spread I had done of a city at night, all linework and no color. She looked at it for a real amount of time.
"Sean," she said. "This is seriously impressive."
I nodded. Tried not to look like I cared too much.
"So that is how you were making money," Lena said. Not a question. More like she was putting it together.
"Yeah. My mom was not really handling the basics so I handled them."
Neither of them said anything judgmental about that. They just listened. So I kept going. Told them about my dad leaving, my mom falling apart after, Cierra, Miss Greenfield, the whole thing. The short version but the real one.
When I got to the part about Cierra getting placed with her teacher Lena pressed her lips together. Not pity exactly. More like she understood what that cost.
"How often do you get to see her?" Stef asked.
"Whenever I could afford the bus. So not enough."
Stef and Lena looked at each other. One of those looks that means they already talked about this.
"If Miss Greenfield is okay with it," Lena said, "Cierra is welcome here whenever. And we will take you to see her every weekend. Pick you up too."
I looked at her.
"Every weekend?"
"Every weekend," Stef said.
I did not say anything for a second. I was trying to figure out if I believed them. I looked over at the kids in the kitchen, the ones who had been here longer. Nobody was making a face like that was some line these two always ran. They just looked like it was a normal Tuesday.
"That is more than my mom did in years," I said. "So. Thank you."
"You do not have to thank us," Lena said. "That is just what we do."
Okay, I thought. We will see.
But I hoped she was right.
* * *
After that they brought the kids in properly.
Callie first. My age, maybe a little older. She had been the one on the couch watching me walk in earlier. Up close she had this look like she was always doing math on whether to trust you. I recognized it. I had the same one.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey."
That was it. But it was fine. Some people you meet and you just know you are going to figure each other out eventually. No rush.
Then Jesus. Big dude. Athlete energy, easy smile. He looked at my hair and nodded like it was the right call.
"Respect," he said, meaning the hair.
"Appreciate it."
Mariana after that. She came in like she had somewhere better to be but was choosing to be here. She looked me up and down once, fast, clocked the septum ring, the ear piercings, the green.
"Okay," she said, like I had passed something.
"Okay," I said back.
She smiled a little. I think that counted.
Then Jude came down the stairs. The one from earlier who had asked about the hair. He sat down across from me and just looked.
"Still green," he said.
"Still green," I said.
He seemed satisfied with that.
"What about Brandon?" I asked.
Stef answered before anyone else could. "He is staying with his dad for a bit. You will meet him soon."
Something passed through the room when she said it. Not a big thing. Just a ripple. I filed it away.
* * *
Then Lena told me about Anchor Beach.
Good school. Strong arts program, which she said specifically while looking at my sketchbook still sitting on the coffee table. Charter, so there was a proficiency test to get in. Standard stuff, nothing I could not handle. She said it without making it sound like a threat, more like information.
Then she mentioned she was the vice principal.
"So you are my boss," I said.
"I prefer advocate," she said, smiling.
"Right. You are my advocate who also has the power to suspend me."
Stef actually laughed at that one. Lena tried not to.
* * *
Dinner was spaghetti and garlic bread. The table was loud. Everyone talking over each other, someone complaining about something that happened at school, Jesus eating like he was being timed. Mariana was on her phone until Stef gave her a look and she put it away. Jude sat next to me and narrated things quietly like I needed a tour guide, which honestly I did.
"That is Mariana's spot," he said under his breath, pointing. "She will not say anything but do not sit there."
"Good to know."
"And do not finish the garlic bread. Jesus thinks he gets the last piece but Stef usually takes it."
I looked at Stef. She had her eye on the basket.
"Noted."
It was a lot of people. A lot of noise. Not bad noise though. Just the sound of a house that was actually full.
I had not been in one of those in a long time.
* * *
After dinner Lena showed me back to the room.
"This is normally Brandon and Jesus's room," she said. "But with Brandon at his dad's, you will have it to yourself for now. Jesus does not mind."
I looked at Jesus in the doorway. He shrugged.
"Long as you don't touch my stuff."
"Would not dream of it."
He pointed at my sketchbook. "You think you could draw something for me sometime?"
"Depends on what you want."
"My face. But cooler."
"I can work with that."
He grinned and went back down the hall.
I sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress was real. The pillow was real. There was a window and the light through it was that quiet gold that comes right at the end of the day.
I opened my sketchbook to a new page.
First thing I drew was the shed. From memory. Just the door and the window and the light coming through at an angle.
One week, I thought. See if it stays this way.
But for the first time in a while I was not already counting down to leaving.
That was something.