“Nope. The money is too uncertain.” Lorna straightened her spine. “I’m going to go to college and become a fancy litigator. That’s a kind of lawyer. They make a ton of money.”
“And she’ll do it too.” Skye grinned affectionately at her sister before turning to me. “Your new best friend is the most ambitious person you’ll ever meet.”
“Well, it makes up for having an actress and a moody writer in the family.”
Lorna’s sister scowled. “Stop teasing Jamie about his writing. You know it sets him off.”
The brother was a writer. How cool. “I love books.”
“Yeah, see?” Skye gestured to me as she stood. “If Jamie finds out you’re telling everyone about his writing, this place will turn into World War III, and I don’t have time for that.”
“Jane can keep a secret. Can’t you, Jane?”
I nodded vehemently.
“Told you.”
Skye offered me her kind smile. “Jane, I love my sister, but try not to let her bulldoze you into agreeing to everything she wants you to agree to. Or doing stuff during this burgeoning best friendship of yours that you’re not comfortable with.”
Lorna huffed. “I wouldn’t do that.”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “I have to get to work. There’s money on the counter for pizza and Jane is welcome to join you. I’ll tell Jamie to order more than one pizza, so there’s enough for everyone. That boy could eat through a house.”
Skye disappeared down the hall, and I could hear her talking to someone.
Obviously, Jamie. Despite my shyness, I was curious to meet him. If he was anything like his sisters, I’d probably fall in love with him immediately.
After Skye left, Lorna turned toward me on the sofa, tucking her knees to her chest. “Skye has been living in LA for a couple years, but her new job means we can afford to move here instead of the crappy apartment she was sharing with a buddy. She said there’s a big shopping area here. Is that true?”
I nodded and told Lorna about Brand Boulevard, a stretch filled with shops and restaurants, a movie theater, and how there were plans in development for an outdoor shopping mall. I told her how Glendale was the one place you could get authentic and great Armenian food. We didn’t eat out a lot, but we’d eaten enough takeout I could recommend my favorite places. I also offered to take Lorna to my favorite bakery.
After listening intently, Lorna cocked her head to the side and studied me. “You seem way older than thirteen. I know why I’m wicked mature.” She gestured dramatically to her chest. “But why are you?”
I was a little thrown by the change of subject. I considered it, though, and remembered the time I’d overheard Willa and Nick talking about me. It was not long after I’d arrived to stay with them.
“She’s like a little grown-up,” Willa whispered to Nick. They were in the kitchen; I was in the hall, having gotten out of bed for a glass of water.
“I know. That’s what growing up in the foster system does to you.”
“Yeah, knock every ounce of childhood out of you. This is why I prefer fostering younger kids. If we’re lucky, we can keep them long enough to give them a proper childhood.”
“Do you wish we hadn’t agreed to take Jane?”
“No, I’m glad. She’s been through a lot. At least we know she’s safe here.”
Overhearing that hadn’t eased my worries. What if one day, Willa decided they couldn’t handle a teenager on top of two young kids?
It occurred to me that all the worrying was probably one of the reasons I came off twenty years older than my actual age.
“Foster kid,” I replied to Lorna. “Seen a lot too, I guess.”
Lorna considered this and nodded. “I knew from the moment we met, we were kindred spirits. Do you know what that means?”
I nodded. I read a lot.
“So, you agree?”
I nodded again.
She smiled. “Do you want to see my room?”
I followed her down the hall, but as she marched ahead, I slowed to a stop at the first open doorway. It belonged to the smallest room where a boy, several years older than me by the look of his long legs, laid on a single bed pressed up against the wall under the window. He’d unpacked his room quite neatly for a teenage boy. A poster of the album cover for Eminem’s record, The Marshall Mathers LP, hung on the wall above his headboard. On the opposite wall was a scary-looking poster with blurred