Page 61 of Love so Hot

"Home sweet home," the social worker announces with fake cheer.

I roll my eyes. "Looks like a reject from a haunted house catalog."

She ignores my quip, probably used to smart-ass comments from kids like me. As I step out, clutching my pathetic duffel bag and Lauren's letter, the social worker's hand lands on my shoulder. I resist the urge to shrug it off.

"Come on, I'll show you around."

We climb the creaky steps, and I can feel eyes on me from every window. Great, an audience for my grand entrance into Orphan Manor.

"So, what's the deal here?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant. "Any secret passages or resident ghosts I should know about?"

The social worker's lips thin. "This is a respectable group home, Larry. I suggest you lose the attitude if you want to make friends."

I snort. "Friends? Please. I'm just here for the five-star accommodations."

As we enter, a group of kids in the living room fall silent, their gazes a mix of curiosity and wariness. I meet their stares head-on, chin lifted. I may be the new kid, but I'm nobody's punching bag.

One boy, lanky with a mop of dark hair, grins and gives me a mock salute. "Welcome to the island of misfit toys, newbie."

I can't help but smirk back. Maybe this won't be a total disaster after all.

The social worker leads me up a narrow staircase, the walls adorned with faded motivational posters that scream "trying too hard." We stop at a door with peeling blue paint, and she gestures inside.

"This is your room. Your roommate should be here shortly."

I step in, taking in the cramped space with its twin beds and weathered dressers. "Wow, it's like an island resort. Do I get a chocolate on my pillow too?"

Before she can respond, a whirlwind of energy bursts through the door. A boy about my age with shaggy blond hair and a grin that screams trouble maker.

"New meat!" he exclaims, bouncing on his heels. "I'm Roman, your personal welcome wagon and roomie extraordinaire."

I raise an eyebrow, torn between amusement and wariness. "Lawrence. Professional orphan, apparently."

Roman's eyes light up. "Oh, a fellow connoisseur of the system! Welcome to the club. We have t-shirts and everything."

Despite myself, I feel the corner of my mouth twitch. "Let me guess, they say 'I survived foster care and all I got was this lousy t-shirt'?"

Roman doubles over laughing. "Oh man, we're gonna get along just fine. Come on, let's get you settled in. I'll show you the ropes of this five-star establishment."

I follow Roman out of our room, his endless chatter filling the hallway. As we explore, I can't help but notice how he seems to know every nook and cranny of this place.

"And here," Roman announces, dramatically gesturing to a small alcove hidden behind a tapestry, "is where we come to plotworld domination and avoid Ms. Grumpypants when she's on the warpath."

I snort, peering into the cramped space. "Cozy. I'm assuming Ms. Grumpypants isn't her real name?"

"Might as well be," Roman grins, pulling me along. "Now, let me introduce you to the rest of our merry band of misfits."

We round a corner and enter what looks like a common room. A few kids are scattered about, some playing board games, others reading. They all look up as we enter, curiosity evident in their eyes.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Roman announces with a flourish, "meet Larry, our newest inmate—I mean, housemate."

I roll my eyes at his antics but offer a small wave. "Hey."

As the introductions fly, I find myself struggling to keep track of names and faces. My mind wanders to Lauren, wondering what she'd make of all this. The thought sends a pang through my chest.

Roman must notice my distraction because he suddenly claps a hand on my shoulder. "Earth to Larry! You still with us, buddy?"

I shake off the melancholy and force a smirk. "Just wondering if I made a wrong turn and ended up in the circus instead of a group home."

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