We snaked our way through the masses moving all over the place.

  He looked back a couple times like he wanted to say something. “Since you probably don’t know many people yet, you should come out with us Saturday night,” he announced as we turned down another hall.

  “Really?” I squeaked a little when I said it, which was mortifying. Was he asking me out? Or was he just being friendly? Either way, it looked like I might be getting started on a real social life. I’d done alright in Colorado, but it had taken a while.

  “Yeah. We meet at the mall at six. Food court. We’ll see a movie after.”

  “I’ll check with my mom.” I had a hard time not smiling like an idiot.

  “Cool.” He abruptly stopped when we were in front of another door and said, “This is your room.”

  “Thanks.” I looked at him, still smiling.

  “I bet you wonder what I’m doing in a Spanish class, right?”

  “Uh, no.” I wasn’t going to admit to that. I didn’t want him to think I was some racist.

  He laughed. “My mom’s white and I grew up with her. My dad died before I was born.”

  That sucked. “I’m sorry.” I wondered about mine. He could be dead for all I knew. But I hoped not. I still wanted to meet him sometime, even though Mom and Grammy both said he was a waste of space.

  “Don’t be. It’s just the explanation.” He laughed again and disappeared.

  I walked into the room in a daze and sat down at the first seat I found.

  A kid came in and stood next to my desk for a moment, looking confused, but eventually he sat somewhere else. I must have taken his seat.

  I made it through the rest of the day, eating lunch alone, which bit. But lunch give me some time to people-watch. Middle school was so funny—there were these tiny, squeaky sixth-grade boys walking around next to these giant eighth-graders who looked like they were about to start college. I couldn’t tell from watching who the really popular kids were here. It had been obvious at my last school. Here, it seemed that kids with different styles and even ethnicities still mixed, unlike at my old school. It probably meant it would be easier to find friends, since kids might not be as judgy.

  As I put my tray up, Mateo was on my mind again. And maybe a sort of date Saturday night. I just had to ask Mom. There was no way she’d say no. I smiled at how proud I knew she’d be. She’d started asking me about boys two years ago. I think she was disappointed that I wasn’t already dating.

  I’d pointed out that it was hard to do since she moved us around so much. Before Steve kicked us out, there’d been a cute boy who’d been in my art class and seemed to like me. But that was over.

  Maybe something new was about to start.

  The whole bus ride home, I kept going over the moments I’d shared with Mateo. I couldn’t wait to tell Mom about it, even though she would still be at work. She’d gotten a job as a tow truck dispatcher, working the two-to-ten shift.

  “How was school?” Grammy asked when I walked inside. She was sitting in an old brown recliner in the front room, knitting to some guitar music playing in the background. Still, she didn’t look anything like a stereotypical cozy grandma. Despite the gray hair, she looked too young. Well, that plus the collection of ’90s rock concert t-shirts made her stand out.

  “Good.” I grinned. “I think I got asked out.”

  “Oh, no,” she said more firmly than I expected. “You’re too young to date.”

  “What?” What was she talking about? She should be happy for me. I was almost thirteen. That was definitely old enough.

  She finished a row and rested her hands in her lap. “You won’t be dating while you’re living here.”

  I was really just confused at that point. “But why? It’s not a real date, anyway. It’s a bunch of us hanging out at the mall.”

  Grammy pursed her lips and started a new row. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  I stared at her, stunned. She wasn’t going to be the one to decide if I could date or not, anyway. Mom would be fine with it. I squinted at her and closed my mouth.

  “Who’s this?” I asked, motioning to the CD player.

  “Classic Soundgarden.” She paused. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”

  “Okay.” I frowned, thinking about the situation. Why was she being like this? All controlling and weird.

  We had our cocoa, and she had me tell her about Mateo. Of course I hardly knew anything, but I told her what I knew. He was obviously in eighth grade, too. And I knew about his parents. But beyond that, I’d be guessing.

  Then we left at four to go to Starbucks for her knitting group. We didn’t talk the whole way over there. She must have been thinking about Mateo. He was on my mind, too, and the further we got from the house, the better my mood got, even if I knew to keep quiet about it. Why couldn’t Grammy be more like Mom?

  When we walked in, there was a long wooden table in the back with a bunch of ladies with skeins or bags of yarn next to them. Some were Mom’s age but most were older. All of them turned to wave at Grammy. We ordered our drinks—a strawberry smoothie for me and peach tea for her—and headed over. There were only two seats left, at different ends of the table.

  Grammy introduced me and one of the older women said, “Come on and sit here, Sarah.” She patted the chair next to her.

  I paused for a second because I couldn’t remember her name.

  “I’m Candace,” she reminded me. She had silvery gray hair, stylishly short, and wore a knitted vest over a short-sleeve button-down shirt. I scooted around the end of the table to get to the chair and dropped into it. Keeping away from Grammy was probably a good thing since I was still pissed at her. How could she want to keep me from dating?

  “How old are you, Sarah?” a woman wearing a black-and-white striped tunic asked. She was working on what was clearly a sweater vest in orange and white.

  “Thirteen.”

  A woman who looked old enough that her light brown hair was probably dyed was working with yellow yarn. She asked, “Do you have yourself a boyfriend?”

  I looked to see if Grammy had heard, hoping she had. Maybe she’d change her mind if her friends thought it was okay. But she was involved in a discussion at the other end of the table. “No.” But I thought of Mateo and smiled. Just two more days.

  “Joanne, she’s only thirteen,” Candace said. “You’re always rushing things.”

  “What? That’s how they are nowadays. Even my Madison has a boyfriend.”

  “I don’t think it’s the same thing. Isn’t she nine?”

  Joanne winked at me. “Besides, she’s Katie’s daughter and she’s grinning. There is somebody, she’s just too shy to tell us about it.”

  The younger woman next to her said, “Joanne, leave the little thing alone.”

  “What? I was just teasing. She knows that, right?” She smiled at me and my cheeks warmed as I pictured Mateo’s grin. But it was fine.

  The woman whose name I didn’t know looked at me and said, “There’s no reason to rush things, honey. You can be independent as long as you want to.”

  The thing was, I didn’t want that. I mean, independence was fine, but I did want things to move forward. I really hoped everything went well with Mateo on Saturday. Not that I was mentioning him yet. I mean, it’s not like anything was definite.

  “What did you bring to work on, Sarah?” Candace asked, peeking into the bag I still held in my lap.

  “I have a sweater, but I also brought my laptop because I was hoping to figure out how to design my own cardigan. But I’ve never designed anything myself before, so I need to learn how.”

  “You don’t need the internet for that, honey,” the last woman said. Soon enough, I learned her name was Debra and the three of them were schooling me in pattern design. Joanne had her design with her for the bright orange vest she was working on and she went over that with me.

  I loved knitting so much. It was the one constant in my life, ever since Grammy had first taught me. We moved from house to house, boyfriend to boyfriend, but always I had my knitting, which grounded me wherever we happened to be.

  I pulled out the pencil and paper I’d brought, and started sketching out what I wanted to create. The ladies helped me with the details. I still had a lot of work to do, but I had the beginnings of a real, unique pattern.

  I’d be able to make good progress on my design over the weekend. And now, I just had to make sure Grammy didn’t keep me from going out Saturday night.

  “Sarah, can you come out here?” Mom called from the living room later that night.

  Mom and Grammy were both standing up, in matching arms-crossed stances, on either end of the plaid couch. It was one weird scene.

  Grammy said, “Sit.”

  So, I sat in the middle of the couch.

  No one said anything but they were still facing off. I was in between two gunfighters.

  “Grammy told me you got asked out,” Mom said. She smiled at me. I was relieved to see her cheeks less puffy than they had been. Maybe she was getting over Steve.

  I glanced at Grammy, who was definitely not smiling.

  “Well, he just invited me to hang out at the mall with everyone. It’s not a date.” Even if I hoped I was wrong about that.

  “That’s great, honey,” Mom said, sounding pleased. “What’s his name?”

  “Mateo.” I couldn’t keep a smile from stretching my face when I said it.

  “His name is beside the point, Katie,” Grammy said. “She’s not going to be dating while you live here.”

  Mom rolled her eyes. “It’s not dating, Mom. They’re in a big group.”

  “She was asked by a boy. It’s close enough.”

  Mom and Grammy used to fight when we lived here before, but I’d never seen Grammy so insistent. It seemed best to stay quiet. Mom had my back.

  “She’s my daughter and I’m fine with her hanging out with some friends on a weekend night,” Mom said. She looked at me. “It is a weekend night, right?”

  I nodded.

  Grammy glared at me, which hurt. “She may be your daughter, Katie, but it’s my house. My rules.”

  “You just never could deal with my decisions, could you?” Mom snapped. She uncrossed her arms and began studying her pink nails.

  “They haven’t been good ones, Katie. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” Grammy’s voice was tense.

  “What happened was not my fault!”

  Grammy dropped her arms to her sides and looked off to the side. Then she looked right at me and said, “It’s very simple. Sarah’s too young to date so she won’t while you two are here.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

  I wondered why Grammy was really being like this. I’d never understood why they seemed to almost hate each other, but it had something to do with Mom in high school and boys, from hints Grammy had dropped. She’d never tell me the whole story.

  Mom sat next to me, putting her feet up on the coffee table. “When are you supposed to go?” she asked quietly after Grammy had walked away.

  “Saturday night.”

  She put her arm around me and rested her head against mine. “Well, you’re in luck. I’m off Saturdays and Sundays.”

  “Really? How’d you manage that?” Usually the new person had to take the bad shifts.

  “Just got lucky, so I’m not going to complain.”

  “So you’ll let me go?” I couldn’t keep the excited note out of my voice.

  “Yeah, of course you can go. This is important.”

  This whole thing was making me feel queasy. I didn’t want Grammy mad at me, but I needed to go on this not-date. Like Mom said, it was important.

  The next day, Grammy came up beside me as I stared at the green skeins of yarn lining the wall in front of me at this giant knitting store. She side-hugged me and rested her head against mine.

  “About tomorrow night, Sarah,” she said. “Why don’t you stay home and I’ll show you a new stitch? We can drink some hot chocolate and I’ll let you choose the music.”

  I laughed and she gave me a sheepish smile.

  But, seriously. I hated how she felt about this. But I had to go. And Mom had said it was okay. “It’s not a date, Grammy.”

  She squeezed my shoulder and let go. “That’s not what you said when you got home yesterday.”

  “I know. I was hoping it was, but it isn’t. It’s just a bunch of kids hanging out at the mall.” I reached out and picked at a green wool, avoiding looking at her.

  “If you’d been asked by a girl, it would be different.”

  The wool was too rough for the sweater I wanted to make.

  Grammy stepped away but continued, “You need to be careful with boys. Don’t let them take over who you are.”

  I narrowed my eyes. I guessed what she was talking about. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re so young and have your whole life in front of you. I want you to make good choices that make you happy in the long term.” She looked very serious, which pissed me off.

  “I am making good choices! Why shouldn’t I have a social life?” I stepped to the side to look at more of the yarn, feeling a forest green that I rejected for being too scratchy.

  Grammy picked up a skein and looked at the price before putting it in her basket. “If this boy asked you to hang out with them, he’ll expect something from you. Boys always have expectations.”

  I shook my head. “He won’t. Mateo’s really nice.”

  “You hardly know him, honey.”

  “I can just tell.” I wanted it to be true, just like I wanted it to be a date. Why did she have to be like this?

  She sighed. “I just don’t want you to end up like your mom, jumping from man to man.”

  I laughed, even though I was offended for Mom. “Grammy! I’m thirteen. And it’s not a date. How is hanging out with a bunch of kids going to lead to that?” Besides, what was wrong with being like Mom? We did alright most of the time.

  “I don’t know, but it did with Katie,” she said in a faraway voice.

  “What do you think of this one?” I held up a fine-gauge alpaca/silk yarn in a rich bottle green. I did wonder how Mom because so man-focused.

  She looked back at me. “Looks nice. What’s it for?”

  “The sweater I’m going to make.” What in the world was she so afraid of? I wasn’t Mom.

  “Grab a couple and let’s go.” Her shoulders looked tense as we walked to the registers.

  Although I appreciated her buying the yarn for me, I wasn’t going to be staying home with Grammy tomorrow night.

  I was staring into my closet Saturday afternoon when I heard a knock.

  “Come in.”

  Mom opened the door. “Hi, honey, can I get some yarn from you? You have any to spare?”

  “I think so.” I had loads. But I had more important things to think about right now, like the fact that I only had six shirts, two skirts, and three pairs of jeans. You’d think it wouldn’t be hard to pick from that.

  “Are you trying to decide what to wear tonight?” She smiled, but it looked a little forced. Her eyes were red and puffy again.

  I pushed a couple of the shirts to the side. “Yeah, but it’s not like I have a lot to choose from.”

  “I know.” She put her arm around my shoulder. “I’m sorry about that. We’ll get settled again and I’ll be able to buy you some more.”

  “Cool.” Something else was on my mind. “Do you think there’s any chance we might end up wherever my father is?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Jeremy? I doubt it. Though I don’t have any idea where he is now. For all I know, he’s still in the Air Force.”

  She’d told me this before, but I’d hoped she’d gotten new information from one of her old friends she was on Facebook with.

  She reached out for a pink t-shirt that had thick silver stitching around the sleeves, collar, and hemline. “This is cute.”

  “You think so?” I pulled out jeans.

  “No, something more adorable. What about that white skirt of yours?”

  I pulled it out and held it up and she clapped once. “It’s perfect. What shoes do you have?”

  “My ballet flats is it.” Now that she’d mentioned it, I could see she was right about the outfit. Jeans weren’t cute enough.

  “Great, honey.” She hugged me and said, “I hope it really is a date.”

  My stomach did a flip. “I know. Me, too.”

  “I’m so excited! My baby’s growing up!”

  I beamed, my heart swelling, and hugged her back. I caught a whiff of her vanilla scent.

  “Thanks, for letting me go, Mom.” She really was the coolest mom. I knew that from meeting my friends’ moms, who were always trying to tell them to do boring and stupid things.

  She pulled back and looked at me. “Don’t worry about Grammy. She’ll come around eventually.”

  I hoped she was right. I didn’t tell her about Grammy trying to convince me to stay in. Mom might be mad at her. I didn’t want them to fight again.

  Mom took the skirt from me and laid it and the shirt on the bed. “Yes, this will definitely work. Even if he didn’t mean for it to be a date, he’ll change his mind for sure.”

  “You think?” My heart leapt. I wanted him to like me so bad. I’d waited so long for a boy to like me.

  “For sure!”

  I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. I sat on the bed next to the outfit and looked at it some more. She was right. He’d totally be into me tonight.

  She sat next to me and put her arm around my shoulders again. “What’s he look like, honey?”

  I closed my eyes and pictured him. “He has green eyes and black hair that’s kinda long, especially his bangs, and he’s about my height but he looks taller, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do. The cute ones often do.” She fell back on the bed, eyes closed. “I’m actually a little jealous of you. I miss Steve.”

  I glanced at her, a little weirded out that she could be jealous of me. And how could she miss that jerk?

  She sniffed and I knew she was going to start crying. I shouldn’t say anything but I was too curious. “What about the guy you were talking to when Steve caught you?”

 

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