"Sure," he murmured, sitting down on the bench while he watched for her to make the call. With his luck, they'd make some big deal out of it and make them both come home. Or try, at least.

He wasn't exactly making a reputation for doing what the people at the Home told him to.

While he waited, he hummed to himself, tapping his palms on his knees like drums. He was restless, but he was always restless. They were shuffling around his meds at the Home, but it was all bullshit. How were they supposed to know him after only a few weeks?