For the first time in three months, I walk to my locker. I turn the dial and open the metal apparatus. It's exactly as I left it. Some things never change.

I turn around and see Jose on the opposite side of the hall. Last spring, he would have scooped me up in his arms and kissed me like his life depended on it. Now he won't even look at me.

Some things never change, but some things definitely do.

"You okay, girl? You look like you've seen a ghost," Taisley says as she materializes beside me. In a pair of tight jeans, a body-hugging blue sweater, and high-heeled boots, she looks like a model on a magazine cover.

"Ex-boyfriend," I admit, nodding toward Jose.

"He's kinda cute," she remarks, pursing her scarlet-stained lips as she stares him up and down. "Is he seeing anyone?"

I roll my eyes. "He's all yours."

"I'm totally kidding! I would never date your ex," she assures me, although I don't think I believe her. "Anyway, I have my eyes on someone else."

"Who?"

"Oh, just a boy."

"You've been a student here for five minutes. How many boys could you have met?"

Her sapphire gaze lingers on Damian as he walks toward us. I guess I have my answer.

"He's off-limits, Taisley," I scold her.

She licks her lips. "He has a girlfriend, not a wife."

"Good morning," Damian greets us. He's adorned in a light blue t-shirt that brings out his eyes and hugs his toned chest in all the right places.

"Good morning to you, too, handsome," Taisley says coyly.

"Oh, look! It's Jessica!" I wave my hand, signaling for Damian's girlfriend to join us.

"Hey, guys!" She skips toward us and immediately locks her fingers through Damian's. "Happy first day of school!"

"Ah, yes, another year at Starkton High is about to commence. I'm quaking with excitement," I joke, causing Jessica and Damian to giggle. Taisley, however, looks unamused. I'm beginning to believe the only humor she finds funny is her own.

"I'll make sure this year is one you never forget," she says with a wink. "Trust me, fun is my specialty."

"I go to school and work two jobs. I don't have time for fun," I remind her.

"Why not quit your job at that silly diner? Doesn't Daddy pay you enough?" Taisley inquires.

"I'm not quitting Gabby's," I retort.

She shrugs her shoulders. "Whatever you say, girl."

"I'm not saying you should quit, but you are going to burn yourself to the ground if you don't make some time for yourself soon," Jessica voices, her hazel eyes wide with concern. "Just be careful."

"I will," I promise my friend. I give her a quick side hug before I say goodbye and make my way to my first class.

As the days go by, I start to take Jessica's warning to heart. Never in my life have I felt so drained, so mentally and physically exhausted.

It's only the fourth day of school, and it seems her prediction has already come true: I've burnt myself out.

I enter the cafeteria and spot my friends at our usual table. I force my body to move toward them, but my footsteps are slow and sluggish. I feel like a mild breeze would knock me over.

It was easy to balance two jobs over the summer, but now that I have to add school and homework into the mix, I feel like I'm drowning. I'm barely sleeping. I haven't eaten an actual meal in days. I don't want to let anyone down—not my teachers, not my friends, not Gabby, and definitely not Bradley—but I'm so tired. I need a break.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jessica stands up and guides me to the table. "You look like you're about to pass out. Here, have my pizza."

"Thanks." I bite into the cheesy bread. It tastes like cardboard. "So how's everyone's day going?"

"Better than yours, probably," a voice that I recognize as Taisley's mutters.

"I'm fine." I don't sound convincing, and Damian rolls his eyes.

"I'm taking you to the nurse," he declares.

Before I can protest, he grabs my shoulders and leads me to the nurse's office, where he physically sits me down in a green-cushioned chair.

"Damian, this is ridiculous," I say.

"Layla, you're stretching yourself too thin. You're getting sick."

"You're not my dad."

"Someone has to be!"

Furious, I rise to my feet, a list of slurs on the tip of my tongue. I don't get a chance to say any of them, though, because I lose my balance and drop to the floor.

Then the world goes fuzzy and fades to darkness.

<><><><><><>

My eyelids feel like weights as I slowly draw them open. Blinding fluorescents shine above me, causing me to squint. I hear the high-pitched voice of the school nurse as she presses a cool rag to my sweaty forehead.

"What's going on?" I try to sit up, but she eases me back down.

"You fainted, sweetie," she tells me.

"Oh." Tears sting my eyes. "Well, I... I feel better now."

"I doubt that. You have a fever of 102.9."

"Any higher and I'd have to go to the hospital," I try to joke, but her face is void of humor.

"Have you been sleeping?" she asks.

"Here and there."

"Eating?"

"I had a bite of pizza at lunch today."

"This is serious. You're still growing. You need to take care of yourself," she chides me. "I'm sending you home. I already called your dad to come and pick you up."

"My dad?!" I sit up too fast, and the room starts spinning again. "My dad... he won't be able to make it. He doesn't even have a car. He... he—"

"He's already on his way. Now lay your head down and rest while we wait for him."

I watch the minute hand on the analog clock spin around the dial. Hank is coming here. Hank. Is. Coming. Here.

My stomach churns. My father has never even attended a parent-teacher conference. Am I truly supposed to believe that he's coming all the way here to pick his sick daughter up from school?

A half-hour passes before the nurse reappears. Behind her is Hank Dodds, in the flesh. He's dressed in a pair of grease-covered jeans, a wife beater, and a flannel shirt that probably hasn't been laundered in months. His hair, however, is combed neatly to the side, and he shaved his scraggly beard.

Next to Hank is an elderly woman with grayish-blonde hair and hazel eyes. She reeks of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume—a combination that makes my already queasy stomach do somersaults. I've never seen her before in my life, but Hank seems oddly familiar with the old crone.

"Get some sleep, sweetie," the nurse says, handing me a lollipop and a packet of saltines.

"Thank you." I pop the candy in my mouth to soothe the nausea and follow Hank and the strange lady outside.

The three of us walk to a scratched-up Honda Civic. The woman gets in the driver's seat, Hank claims shotgun, and I crawl into the back.

"Who are you?" I ask once the three of us are in the car. There's no way Hank would ask one of his lady friends to pick me up from school. I'm astonished that he came at all.

"My name's Margo," she replies, starting the engine. "This piece of shit"—she gestures to Hank—"is my son. Guess that makes me your grandma."

My jaw drops. My whole life, I've never had any other family. No aunts, uncles, or even distant cousins. It's always just been me and Hank, and he hardly counts as "family."

"You're my grandma?" The word leaves a strange taste in my mouth. "I... I didn't know you were still alive."

"Yeah, well, Hanky here likes to pretend my heart attack in '89 killed me. As if!" She rolls her head back and laughs.

"Oh." I wrap my arms around my torso. "Are you... are you staying with us?"

"I ain't got no choice! Your lives are a mess!" she declares, turning the Honda into the trailer park and stopping in front of our mobile home. She rotates her head to look at me, and I notice that she and my father have the same nose. "Layla, you can't be happy livin' like this. Let me step in and help. What do you say?"

What do I say? I've known this woman for five minutes. She's a stranger. She isn't family.

Then again, neither is Hank, and I've cohabited with him for the past sixteen years.

"Sounds good to me," I finally reply. I know lots of kids who live with their grandparents. What's the worst that could happen?

We get out of the car and make our way inside. Margo guides me to my room, covers me with a blanket, and tells me to holler if I need anything. I can't recall the last time someone tucked me in. It's a nice feeling.

I shut my eyes as she closes my bedroom door. When I woke up this morning, I didn't expect to end the day with a grandmother.

But if she can keep Hank in line, I'm not going to complain.

A/N:
I like Margo.... I hope you guys will, too!