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again.”
    Sometimes I didn’t even do my homework. It seemed like a waste of time since I wasn’t going to be there much longer. Once in a while Bertha asked me if I had homework, and I was pretty good at just shrugging and changing the subject.
    Besides, I was used to getting marked-up papers like that ’cause back in Raleigh, I wasn’t exactly Student of the Year. Jackie was the only one who ever fussed at me for not going to school or not doing my homework, but I reminded her that she was not my mother so she should leave me alone. When my teacher called the house to tell Mama how bad I’d done on my math test or ask why I hadn’t turned in my book report, Mama would holler and carry on for about five minutes and then she’d throw up her skinny arms and heave a big sigh before she said, “What’s the use?” Then she’d shuffle out of the room in her bedroom slippers, muttering about how she didn’t deserve that aggravation.
    At least in Raleigh, I had friends at school, but here, when I sat at a table in the cafeteria, girls made faces like they smelled something bad and slid their trays away from me. Most days, I pretended like I had a stomachache and spent the afternoon in the nurse’s office drawing more stars and hearts on my arm with a marker.
    At recess, Howard followed me around, reminding me he was my Backpack Buddy and asking questions a mile a minute.
    â€œDid you ever visit your daddy in jail?”
    â€œWhy ain’t your sister here, too?”
    â€œYou want some of my Bible bucks?”
    Sometimes I answered him and sometimes I didn’t.
    The thing about Howard was, everything just rolled right off him. It seemed like nothing bothered him one little bit. It was clear that nobody at school wanted much to do with him, but he didn’t seem to mind. His brother Dwight was always surrounded by cussing, punching, ball-tossing, fist-bumping boys, but Howard never joined them. A couple of times when I rode into town with Gus and Bertha, I’d see his older brothers, Burl and Lenny, tossing a football or shooting hoops with their friends, but Howard would be sitting on the steps scribbling in a notebook or over by the garage fiddling with his bicycle.
    Bertha had commented about him one day when we drove by. “That poor boy is too much of a loner,” she said.
    â€œNothing wrong with that,” Gus said.
    Bertha shook her head. “Not for a child. Children need friends.” Bertha sighed. “I don’t get it. He’s just as sweet as he can be.”
    â€œI bet it’s ’cause of his up-down walk,” I said.
    â€œWell, that’s mean,” she said. She turned around to face me. “You’re going to make so many new friends here in Colby, Charlie. I just know it.”
    I stared out the window and pretended like I wasn’t even listening to her go on about all the things I could do. Like Girl Scouts and 4-H. She told me about her friend Jonelle who lived in Fairview and had a daughter my age. We could visit them some Saturday if I wanted to or maybe we could go to the mall down in Asheville. On and on she went, talking as if my life in Colby was going to be like living in Disney World.
    â€œYou’re gonna talk that girl’s head plum off, Bertie,” Gus said.
    Bertha laughed and slapped him playfully on the arm.
    â€œWhere do you think that dog is?” I asked Gus.
    â€œCould be anywhere,” he said. “That mutt gets around.”
    I’d been looking everywhere for that stray dog. I’d seen him twice since that day he’d come to Gus and Bertha’s, but both times he darted off into the woods when he saw me.
    â€œHe sure loves my meat loaf, I can tell you that,” Bertha said. “He licks that pan clean and then hightails it outta there so fast I hardly get so much as a glimpse of him.”
    I leaned back against the seat and sighed. I bet I was never