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“No, but you can’t wait that long to go back to school. You can’t miss that many days. You haven’t been to your school since before Thanksgiving? Is that correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Where did you go to school when you were living with your father? If you give me the name, I can contact them and put them in touch with your school here so at least they know you didn’t actually miss that many days.”
“I’m really hungry,” I say, avoiding her question as I get up and go to the kitchen. “Could I have a bowl of cereal?”
“Of course.” She gets up. “I also made more of those blueberry muffins you like.” She takes a container from the counter and opens it, showing me the muffins.
“Thanks.” I take one and grab a plate from the cupboard. “I’ll just have this. I don’t need cereal.” I sit on the stool next to the island and peel the wrapper off the muffin.
“Would you like some juice?”
“Yeah, but I can get it.”
She’s already taking it from the fridge. She pours it in a glass and sets it in front of me. “You didn’t go, did you?”
“These are really good.” I hold up the muffin. “They’re a lot better than the kind you make from a mix.”
Penelope stands across from me. “Nova, I need you to answer me. Did you go to school while living with your father or not?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Your school here will need to know.”
“I didn’t say I was going back.”
“But you would if you were able to. If you had a place to live.”
“I guess. Maybe.”
“Then I need an answer.”
“No.” I set the muffin down. “The answer’s no.”
She frowns. “I don’t understand. Did your father not enroll you?”
I laugh a little. “If you knew my dad, you wouldn’t have to even ask.”
“What do you mean?”
“The guy left his 4-year-old daughter at a grocery store. You really think he cares if I go to school?”
She turns away and walks over to the dishwasher. She opens it and starts unloading the clean dishes, putting them away in the cupboard. That’s weird. We were in the middle of a conversation and she just decides to unload the dishwasher?
I finish my breakfast and take my dishes to the sink. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”
As I’m leaving I hear Penelope talking. “What happened there?”
“Where?” I turn back and see her holding a stack of plates.
“When you were with your father.” She sets the plates down on the counter, seeming determined to get answers as she walks over to me. “What made you leave?”
I shrug. “I just didn’t like it there.”
“That’s not the reason. There’s something else. You started to tell me when you were sick, but then you fell asleep.”
“What did I say?” I ask, not remembering telling her anything.
