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shook his head. “Maybe April can tutor you. She’s a bright girl. Got a good head on her shoulders.”
     
    I bit my tongue to swallow back a retort. I didn’t need a tutor. A few teachers told me that I just needed to try, that I was smarter than my test grades showed. I knew it didn’t help that I didn’t do my homework, but I never saw the point of it, of studying. Most of the classes were pointless, and what good were tests? They weren’t true measures of determining how well you learned the material—only a gauge of how well you test. And besides, I didn’t need a degree for what I wanted, so all of this was moot for me.
     
    “Now, did anyone tell you about the time for breakfast?” he asked, crossing his arms. His eyes bore through me.
     
    I shook my head. Was he going to bend? I sure hoped so.
     
    “Just this once, I’ll make an allowance for you. You can fix yourself something.”
     
    Sweet. My stomach felt like a huge pit of emptiness that was dying to be filled.
     
    But the man still wasn’t done. “Don’t forget your chores. There’s a chore chart in the kitchen for everyone. You’ve already been added to it. Now, is there anything you have questions about?”
     
    I so wanted to give him lip, to throw his rules back in his face, to walk out. Only remembering April’s words—that Walter wasn’t so bad and that she’d help me—got me to think twice. I was too old for foster care. It was either here, in Walter’s house, or the streets. The idea of roughing it, of not being able to even possibly have my own life, to live on my terms without being homeless and completely broke, was not one I wanted to entertain.
     
    I cleared my throat. “Nope.”
     
    “Very well. You’re in agreement, then? With the rules and chores and part-time job?” Walter leveled me a cool stare, one that would rattle the dead.
     
    It pained me, but I nodded. For now, I was in agreement, but if he kept getting in my face…well, all bets would be off.
     
    He nodded back, walked over to the bookcase, and removed a book. How quickly he could ignore me, pretend I didn’t exist.
     
    I already hated the guy. Guessed that kind of made him into a father figure after all, at least for me. I hated my father too.
     
     
     
    ***
     
     
     
    Since I ate a later breakfast than everyone, I ate a later lunch too, which turned out to be great because I ate both meals in peace. No sideway glances, no annoying questions, just me and my stomach and my food.
     
    Other than dinner when I was forced to be around people, I kept to myself. Finally, it was nighttime, but when I tried to sleep, I couldn’t. The bed was just too soft. After tossing and turning for a good two hours, I had enough. I wasn’t about to have another terrible night of sleep—I’d been exhausted all day today as it was—so I left my room, went downstairs, and lay out on the couch. Much better.
     
    I was just dozing when someone approached. I didn’t bother to open my eyes, just continued resting. Maybe he or she would leave. But there weren’t any more footsteps. The person was staring at me. I never could sleep when someone was staring at me. Too many kids in foster homes had done that to me. Half the times, they ended up trying to torture me. Not that they succeeded once I hit puberty.
     
    Who could it be? It better not be Walter. Or Jacqueline. The boys wouldn’t bother me, would they? Actually, they probably would. They were troublemakers all right.
     
    Curiosity was getting the better of me, so I cracked both eyes open.
     
    “You’re sleeping on the couch?” April asked in a whisper, her blue eyes wide.
     
    “Isn’t that what it looks like?” I closed my eyes and yawned.
     
    “But why? You have a bed upstairs. Your bed has to be more comfortable.” She sounded truly baffled.
     
    I opened my eyes and saw her frown. “It’s not a big deal. Why does it bother you?” I wasn’t used to having someone give a damn about me, and it