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“Just what I’m learning in class. How come you’re not in French class? It would probably be easier for you.”

“No, it wouldn’t. I never had a formal class. I just learned on the streets,” he said. “The streets, get it? So maybe we have something in common.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

“To some people, I guess, but you want to know something?” he said, leaning toward me. “I’m convinced that what we learn on the streets lasts longer and has more meaning than what we learn here. Take it for what it’s worth, and make whatever you want out of it,” he added. “If you can’t stand it, leave.” He bit angrily into his food.

“You’re pretty sensitive. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Me? You practically had me assassinated for asking about your street life.”

“That’s different.”

“Because it’s you. Maybe you’re not so interesting, after all. Maybe that’s why you’re so guarded.”

“Maybe I’m not.”

“I’ll bring a magnifying glass to school tomorrow and tell you,” he replied.

We stared at each other, neither wanting to give ground by relaxing a lip or even blinking, and then we both laughed.

I glanced slightly to my right and saw that my girlfriends—most of the school, in fact—were watching us intently. If they could hear our conversation, they would think they were watching a tennis match.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll tell you about myself, but only if you do the same.”

“I don’t have much to tell,” he said. “You’ll be disappointed, even bored.”

“I’ll pretend not to be,” I said, “and that will make you feel important.”

He smiled again. “You are more than vaguely interesting.”

“Ah, more than vaguely. I guess that’s progress,” I said. “You’re slowly slipping into the body of a human being.”

He laughed. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll play you show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

“Careful,” I said. “You could end up naked.”

His jaw finally fell.

“Finish your hamburger,” I said, “before it gets cold.”

Obediently, he began to eat, not taking his eyes off me. I could almost feel the wall between us begin to crumble. The question was, did I really want it to crumble? Did I really want to relive my past, and from what he was telling me, did I really want to hear more family dysfunction?

“I’ve been to five different schools since grade school,” he told me when the warning bell sounded.

“Five? Why?”

“Our traveling, mostly. For a little while, Summer and I had a tutor.”

“I had one when I first came here. I hadn’t been in school for nearly a year, so there was a lot of catching up to do.”

“How come nobody checked on you? I thought you had to be in school. It’s a law.”

“Are you kidding? When you’re homeless, you don’t exist. Nobody even looks or cares, and that includes policemen. Believe me.”

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t exist. Maybe I’m homeless and don’t realize it,” he said as we entered the building. “I mean, a house doesn’t automatically mean a home, and having parents doesn’t mean you have a family.”

I thought about Kiera. Maybe he had far more in common with her than he had with me. “I know what you mean.”