"It's definitely weird," Beverly says, sending the ball rolling down the lane again, perching on her toes as she watches it. This time, it clips one pin, which teeters some before falling over, but she'll take it. At least it's better than embarrassing herself too completely on her first turn. Even if she had, she'd rather bowl a game with nothing but gutter balls than be in P.E. right now, so she supposes that, really, she wins either way. "And not exactly ideal. I mean, sometimes you just want a little privacy, you know?"

It's not like she's ungrateful, or like she doesn't recognize that she's lucky to have a place to stay at all with people who seem to genuinely mean well. That doesn't mean she wouldn't appreciate a break from being surrounded by other kids around her age, with whom she historically hasn't gotten along very well.

"But thanks," she adds, finding that she means it. "I'll keep that in mind."