We Were Here by Matt de la Pena

isolating myself, mostly to do with how retarded everybody here was and how all they wanted to do was talk about peoples’ shits or spit on you or hide meth in their damn shoes, but I didn’t tell him any of that. Just shrugged again.
    Jaden pulled my file out of a drawer and opened it up. Heran his finger over a couple lines and said: “Jenny says you’re still refusing to talk in therapy.” He looked up at me. “Any idea why that is, bro?”
    Something happened inside me as I watched him sitting there looking in my file. I sort of snapped. I don’t even know why. I clenched up my fists and stared right back at him, not saying shit.
    “Miguel?”
    I was close enough that I could reach out and punch dude right in his pretty-boy face. Toss him out of his chair. Step on his neck like what happened to me in Juvi. It was a crazy feeling, too, ’cause I don’t even really hate the guy that much. I just felt pissed off.
    “Jenny’s one of the top counselors in the entire system. Look, the only way to move past what happened back home—”
    “What the fuck do you do here?” I interrupted.
    His eyes got mad wide and he tilted his head a little, said: “Excuse me?”
    “You bring people in here and talk and talk and talk. You open up their stupid-ass files and act like it has all the answers about ’em, and then you talk some more. But you don’t know me, man. You don’t know the first thing about who I am or where I come from.”
    Jaden leaned forward a little, nodding slow. He looked me in the eye a few seconds and then said: “You know what, Miguel? I think you’re right.”
    “I know I’m right,” I snapped back, waving his ass off.
    “I don’t know the first thing about you. I really don’t.” He closed my folder and put it on the desk. “I’d argue that nobody really knows anybody. Not even members of their own family. But I can promise you this, okay? I really wanna help, Miguel. Whatever that means. I wanna help.”
    I looked at him and then leaned back and crossed my arms. I started calming down, which pissed me off even more. I hated that something some damn counselor could say would make me calm down when I didn’t even feel like it. I looked at the cocoon on the wall again and shook my head.
    Jaden looked at where I was looking and then put his eyes back on me. “And I’m going to continue trying to help, Miguel. Every single day. And if you ever wanna come in here and talk about anything—seriously, anything. The books you’re reading, basketball, girls, whatever. You come get me and we’ll talk, okay?”
    “Can I be dismissed?” I said.
    Jaden looked at my file on his desk. Then he nodded and said: “Absolutely, bro. And I wanna thank you for talking with me tonight.”
    I got up and went toward the door, but he called out: “Miguel!”
    I stopped, turned around. But I didn’t really look at him.
    “It’s a huge burden is all I’m saying. What happened with you back home. I know you’re a tough kid, Miguel. And you’re smart, too. Even so, it’s hard to carry all that weight around on your shoulders. Sometimes it’s good to just talk to someone. Even if they’re not as tough or smart as you.”
    “Can I be dismissed?”
    He nodded and I went out.
    I walked back into the kitchen. The dishes were already done, so I went to the bookshelf in the game room to look through the books, and right then somebody pulled into the driveway—I knew ’cause the headlights flashed through the curtains, lit up the shelf I was looking at. I turned around.
    Demarcus went to the window and looked out at the drive way. “Les is bringin’ in another newbie, son.”
    “Who?” Reggie said.
    “Yo, he a big son of a bitch.”
    Tommy and Reggie went to the window too. But I stayed right where I was. The only thought going through my head was how I knew they were gonna throw new dude in my room. And how all my solo time was pretty much ancient history. I turned back to the books, listening to