{"product_id":"something-like-home-isbn-9780593566213","title":"Something Like Home","description":"\u003cb\u003eThe Pura Belpré Honor winning novel in verse, in which a lost dog helps a lonely girl find a way home to her family . . . only for them to find family in each other along the way. From the Newbery Honor winning author of \u003ci\u003eIveliz Explains It All.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Trust me: this book will touch your heart.\" —Barbara O’Connor, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eWish\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eTiti Silvia leaves me by myself to unpack,\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003ebut it’s not like I brought a bunch of stuff.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eHow do you prepare for the unpreparable?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eHow do you fit your whole life in one bag?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eAnd how am I supposed to trust social services\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003ewhen they won’t trust me back?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLaura Rodríguez Colón has a plan: no matter what the grown-ups say, she \u003ci\u003ewill\u003c\/i\u003e live with her parents again. Can you blame her? It’s tough to make friends as the new kid at school. And while staying at her aunt’s house is okay, it just isn’t the same as being in her own space.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo when Laura finds a puppy, it seems like fate. If she can train the puppy to become a therapy dog, then maybe she’ll be allowed to visit her parents. Maybe the dog will help them get better and things will finally go back to the way they should be.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter all, how do you explain to others that you’re technically a foster kid, even though you live with your aunt? And most importantly . . . how do you explain that you’re \u003ci\u003enot\u003c\/i\u003e where you belong, and you just want to go home?\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews \u003c\/i\u003eBest Book of the Year\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Exquisitely written, \u003ci\u003eSomething Like Home\u003c\/i\u003e touched my heart deeply. This beautiful story is\u003cb\u003e destined to become a classic.” —Holly Goldberg Sloan, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of \u003ci\u003eCounting by 7s\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e“A sparkling gem of a book\u003c\/b\u003e that will spring open the deepest places in your heart. I loved it, start to finish!” \u003cb\u003e—Rebecca Balcárcel, Pura Belpré Honor-winning author of \u003ci\u003eThe Other Half of Happy\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e★ \"Arango’s writing is \u003cb\u003ea joy to read\u003c\/b\u003e, combining strong storytelling, compelling characters, and rich language....\u003cb\u003eBeautifully executed\u003c\/b\u003e.\" \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e, starred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e★ \"Abundant bird facts—which Laura learned on daily walks with her father—add sensitive insight into Laura’s interpretation of \u003cb\u003efamily and loyalty\u003c\/b\u003e.\" \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e, starred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e★ \"Arango's writing is \u003cb\u003eintimate and heartbreaking\u003c\/b\u003e, tackling such hefty issues as cultural identity, addiction, the pain of displacement and the anxiety it causes, and the adulation and rationalization that a child in pain can offer to adults they love.\" \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Horn Book\u003c\/i\u003e, starred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e★ “\u003cb\u003eExtraordinarily honest and sensitive\u003c\/b\u003e, this novel in verse tactfully and gracefully deals with foster and kinship care and some of the many emotions involved.” —\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e, starred review\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"This\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003estory\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003eprovides honest insight into the difficult subject matter of \u003cb\u003efoster care, addiction, and finding identity\u003c\/b\u003e.\"\u003cb\u003e —\u003ci\u003eThe Bulletin\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"Arango’s follow-up to her Newbery Honor debut is \u003cb\u003ea triumph\u003c\/b\u003e for readers who need the hug without having to ask for it.\"\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003cb\u003e—Booklist\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eAndrea Beatriz Arango\u003c\/b\u003e is the Newbery Honor-winning author of \u003ci\u003eIveliz Explains It All.\u003c\/i\u003e She was born and raised in Puerto Rico, and is a former public school teacher with almost a decade of teaching experience. Andrea now writes the types of children’s books she wishes students had more access to. She balances her life in Virginia with trips home to see her family and eat lots of tostones de pana. When she’s not busy writing, you can find her enjoying nature in the nearest forest or body of water.Time and Space\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e The drive to Titi’s house takes exactly eighteen minutes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I know because my current Rubik’s Cube solving time\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e is about two minutes,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and I solve my scratched-up, faded cube\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e a grand total of nine times.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I can feel Janet watching me in the rearview mirror,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e probably wondering if I’m okay,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and I wish for the hundredth time that I could\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e twist my way out of her too-clean car,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e line my life back up as easily as the sides of my cube,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e erase all the ways I messed up this weekend,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e so that instead of driving to the rich side of town,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I’d be at my parents’ bright red food truck,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and instead of a black bag of packed clothes at my feet,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I’d be dishing up plates of yellow rice for my friends.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Janet doesn’t actually care how I feel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She’s just here ’cause it’s her job.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e So even though she offers to carry my bag\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e after we park,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e even though I’m sweating through my shirt\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and my glasses keep slipping off,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I carefully put the cube in my sweatpant pocket,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e lift my bagged-up things with my own two hands,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e take a deep breath, ignoring Janet,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and start walking by myself toward my aunt’s door\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and my weird\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e       weird\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e          new life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Did You Know?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Most birds don’t recognize their family members\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e after more than a year has passed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e So it makes sense that I’m wearing\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e my favorite owl shirt\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e as I stare at a woman I don’t recognize,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but that Janet assures me is my aunt.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Titi Silvia is a doctor,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but one that looks like a model,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e like the doctors on those TV shows\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e my mom won’t ever let me watch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e And even though I usually try not to care\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e about the clothes I wear or how they fit,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I definitely care today\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e as I feel her staring first at my hair\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and then at my wrinkled clothes,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e moving down to my socks and slides\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and then back up to my stomach,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e like everything about me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e is out of place, different\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e from what she’d like.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I don’t know how I’m supposed to greet her,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e this woman that is basically a stranger\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and who looks nothing like me,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e so I just shrug at her awkward hola,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e wait for her to tell me where to put my stuff,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and then I leave her and Janet talking\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and hide in the office,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e    aka my (temporary) new room.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e My Room That Is Not My Room\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Titi Silvia’s apartment is beautiful,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but it almost doesn’t look real.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e It’s all white and clean\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and full of art that makes no sense,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and I can tell my aunt’s really tried to turn her office\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e into a bedroom for a kid,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e because there’s a big inflatable mattress in the middle\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and she’s added a princess blanket that is\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e pretty babyish\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and way too pink,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e which she probably bought\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e because she doesn’t know what sixth graders\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e actually like to watch on TV.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e And if I was here for different reasons,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I’d probably just laugh at the blanket\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and bounce on the inflatable bed,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e but the problem is,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I’m supposed to actually live here.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Titi Silvia already mentioned\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e something about Ikea and furniture\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e as I slid past her in the hall,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and who wants a temporary place\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e to act like a forever one?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Especially when that place\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e is with a rich perfect stranger\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e who the social services people keep telling you\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e over and over and over\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e    is “safer” than your parents\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    is a “good” solution\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    is someone you’re “extremely lucky”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e to have offered you a home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e My Aunt That Is Not My Aunt\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I hear Janet leave\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and I pick up my cube again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Not because I want to practice,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but more ’cause I want to have an excuse\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e not to talk\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e if Titi Silvia decides to come in.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I don’t care what Janet says.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e This is not where I want to be.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Especially when my aunt does walk in\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (she doesn’t even knock!)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and starts talking to me in soft Spanish\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    like we’re not strangers and\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e this is our shared language,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    like she’s always been around and\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e this is a super-normal visit\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    and not what it actually is.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e All I’ve ever heard about my titi\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e is that she’d never lend Mom money\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    when we needed it,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e never help Mom out\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    when she was sick,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and Dad always tells me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e to ask when I don’t know something,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e to not keep my questions inside,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e but even though I want to ask Titi why,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e    why didn’t you help when we needed you?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    why did you wait until now to show up in my life?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e it’s hard to ask questions\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e when you don’t want to know the answers anyway,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e hard to talk when your head feels like\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    it’s inside a bubble\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and your body feels like\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    shooting up into the air,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e harder, even, than listening to my aunt’s constant\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e    hola Laura, hola mi amor\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and so without looking up from my Rubik’s Cube,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I just lie and say:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e    no hablo español.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Yo Sé\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e The truth is,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I do speak Spanish. A little bit.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Just not the way Titi Silvia does.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Dad was born here\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and understands it better than he speaks it,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e so I only ever spoke it with Mom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e And if I’m being honest,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e whatever we were saying\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e was more of a mixed Spanglish\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e than whatever it is that Titi talks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e The food we sold at the food truck?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I got you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Prices and customer service?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nobody’s ever complained.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e But Titi is fast-Spanishing awkward stuff\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e about her recycling system\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and what my new school will be like,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and it’s not that I don’t understand her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But not as perfectly as I did Mom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Unpacking\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Titi Silvia leaves me by myself to unpack,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but it’s not like I brought a bunch of stuff.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e How do you prepare for the unpreparable?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e How do you fit your whole life in one bag?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e And how am I supposed to trust social services,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e trust Janet,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e when she won’t trust me back?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Questions I’ve Asked Janet\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e How long will I be with my aunt?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e What will happen to our trailer?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e What will happen to the things I don’t pack?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When can I talk to Mom?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When can I talk to Dad?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e What does kinship care mean?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Why do I have a caseworker?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e What even is a caseworker?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Do my parents know where I’m going?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Who knows where I’m going?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e How long will I be with my aunt?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Is this because I called 911?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Is this my fault?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Answers Janet Has Given Me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Did You Know?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Some birds hold funerals\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e for the birds in their families\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e that have passed away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Other birds will cry by empty nests\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e for a long time\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e hoping that the bird that died will\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    wake up\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    come back\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e so they can all go on\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e with their normal bird lives.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I’m not a bird,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but in case you can’t tell yet,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I kinda wish I was.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Their lives seem so much simpler\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e so much easier to understand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e My two-bedroom trailer is empty of people now,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    abandoned,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and all because of me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e And it feels like everyone just wants me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e to move on\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e to be cool.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e But every time I think about\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e me living with my aunt,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e think about my Crenwood neighbors\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e gossiping about where we are,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e all I want to do is yell\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e really really loud,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e shout at the world that this is not permanent\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e this is not forever\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e this was a mistake\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and my parents are getting better\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and if everyone would just wait a few days\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e would close their eyes and go to sleep\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e then everything would swirl back\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (like it never even happened)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and we could all pretend\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e nothing ever, ever changed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Riverview Elementary School\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e RES is bigger than my old school,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    nicer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    cleaner\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e with student artwork on every wall.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e My homeroom teacher is Ms. Holm,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e whose classroom is full of books and plants,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and I’m happy to realize I’ll get to stay with her all day,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and not have to swap classrooms\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and memorize schedules\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e that I know will just get me turned around.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Before? Stuff like that didn’t make me nervous.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Now? I feel so lost I could almost cry.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Too many changes,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e too many new things,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e too many goodbyes and hellos and\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e silences in the dark,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and so even though I know\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I’ll only be at this school\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e for a tiny amount of time,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e knowing where I’ll spend my day\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e knowing I have one assigned desk\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e with my name duct-taped on,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e it’s not something I needed before,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but today?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e It makes me feel like a little\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e snuggled-up parakeet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e It makes me feel calm.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Picture This\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e You’ve been in the same town\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e with the same kids\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e all the way from kindergarten\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e to sixth grade.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e And sure,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e maybe there’s been a new kid here and there,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but probably not a lot\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and usually at the beginning of the year.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Then imagine you get to Riverview\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e on a windy October day,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e on your very first year of middle school,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e on Picture Day (!)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e when you’re not expecting any more change,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and all of a sudden there’s a new girl\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e standing in front of your class,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e a girl you’ve never seen before\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but that clearly doesn’t belong here:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e the food truck girl,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e the fidgety girl,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e the trailer girl\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e from all the way across town.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Just a Regular, Normal Kid\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I try not to stand out,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e really, I do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I didn’t know it was Picture Day\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e when I got dressed this morning,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but I think my plain blue jeans\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and black hoodie\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e are okay,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e the gel I used this morning\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e keeping my thick and wavy brown hair\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e in a frizzy ponytail\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e that is at least\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e semi-contained.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e But I’m still the new kid,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e which means Ms. Holm\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e asks me to introduce myself,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e asks me to stand in front of the whole class,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e ’cause teachers somehow\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e still haven’t figured out\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e how obviously terrifying\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e having twenty-five pairs of eyes on you is.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e How it leaves you with absolutely nowhere to hide.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e The Introduction I Don’t Make\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Hi.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e My name is Laura [LAH-OO-RAH]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and I used to live on the other side\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e of Loumack County, Virginia,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e in the Crenwood Trailer Park,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but now (and just for now)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I live with my aunt in this part of town.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e My parents are in rehab,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e which is why I’m here,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e in a school that hands out\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e organic blueberry muffins for breakfast\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and has no writing on the bathroom stalls,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e in a classroom where\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e probably everyone has a perfect family\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and nobody has any secrets\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and even though I wish\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e you were all nice and friendly,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I have a feeling\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e you’re not.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e The Introduction I Do Make\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Hi,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I’m Laura [LAW-RAH].\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I Miss My Friends Back Home\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I spend my lunch period in the library,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e because my amazing introduction\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e didn’t really win me any new friends,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and as I play alone\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e with the basket of fidget toys\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e set out on one of the tables,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I wish\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e (for the hundredth time)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e that I knew how to explain to\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Remedios, Pilar, and Betsaida\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e that I didn’t ghost them,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I got taken,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e that nobody asked me or cared\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e what I thought about the whole thing at all,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and if it had been up to me\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and not social services,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I would have stayed with my parents,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I would have never left home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Decisions\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I know I messed up back in Crenwood.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Janet and Titi don’t have to say it out loud\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e for me to understand that it’s true.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e But just because I let my parents down\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    this time\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e doesn’t mean I will again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e And if Janet thinks I’m just going to\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e forget everything that happened\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    she’s wrong\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e because I already repacked\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e everything I had unpacked,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e my black bag sitting in the closet\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e all ready to go.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I just have to find a way to fix this,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e find a way to undo this,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and then I’ll be back with Mom and Dad\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and they’ll be perfectly okay\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e and I’ll never\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e never ever\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e have to make another decision\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e ever again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Someone Is Always Watching\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I may not have a phone,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but I do have a laptop now,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e since every student at Riverview\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e gets their own to take home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e And when I google Harmonic Way\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e (the place Janet said my parents are at),\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I see pictures of smiling people\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and gardens full of singing cardinals\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and board games and crafts and baking,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e though the Google reviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e are only at 2.9 out of 5.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e I’m about to click into some of them,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e the reviews,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e to try to read what people have to say,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but then my neck hairs start tingling\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and my arm hairs start prickling\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and when I look up,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e there’s a kid with braids next to me at the table\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e smiling\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and I slam my laptop shut.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Trust Is Overrated\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e The kid introduces himself as Benson, he\/him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Says he’s in sixth grade (but not my class),\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and although I eye him suspiciously,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I tell him I’m Laura, she\/her,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and in Ms. Holm’s class.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Benson is Black and short and skinny,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but what I most notice\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e is his humongous smile--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e like we’ve been friends our entire lives\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and are just meeting for lunch to catch up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e And even though I’m pretty sure I’m frowning,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e he still tosses his stickered water bottle\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    up and down,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e smiling at me in between sips,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e his eyes twinkling into a laugh.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e He’s weird, this Benson.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Too friendly. Too nice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But just as I’m about to make an excuse,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e say something like how I need to head back to class,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e the bell rings\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e        (thank you, thank you)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and I hurry out,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e laptop and backpack in hand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Dad would tell me I’m being rude,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but it’s not like he’s here to see this anyway.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And I’m not sure what Janet from social services\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e would say,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e but she definitely made it clear\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e back at my trailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e that she thought I should feel grateful\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e for my aunt and my new school,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e which she talks about like it’s\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    a forever thing,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e a “positive” change.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Basically, adults know nothing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nothing nothing period.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e And as for me? I’m definitely not ready\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e to explain to anyone\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and especially not any of the kids\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e at this rich, temporary school\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e why I live where I live.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e My After-School Routine Because I Live with a Very Controlling Aunt\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Get off the bus at the Stonecreek Apartments\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and walk to building 1380,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e then climb the stairs to apartment C.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Connect my laptop to the Wi-Fi\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and then message Titi at work to tell her\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    I’m here\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e even though she could definitely\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e just check her doorbell camera,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e which\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e (like I’m some sort of prisoner)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e already records me on the way in.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Titi Silvia Is the Worst\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e Organized\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and I mean organized\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e to the extreme.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e She has schedules for everything\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    like for cleaning (yuck)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e and for eating\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    or for how she washes and blow-dries her hair\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e every Tuesday and Friday night, no exceptions,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e before pulling it back into a tight bun.","brand":"Yearling","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300900786405,"sku":"NP9780593566213","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593566213.jpg?v=1767736933","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/something-like-home-isbn-9780593566213","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}