“He’s been here about a week and hasn't talked at all. Half the time it’s like he’s not even there,” Devon said. “Found out from Green his name’s Quinn Ave.”

“His name’s a road?” Jack asked, surprised by the lack of effort. The state must have given him that one, he thought. They come up with the worst names, his own included. Devon breathed a laugh.

“It’s not short for avenue.”

“That’s what the A.V.E. stands for?” Jack asked, his world view suddenly shaken by this new information. He started questioning what other road signs stood for.

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” Devon said.

“He got transferred here from out of state,” Chris said.

“That's what I thought,” Devon said, commenting on the altitude of Jack’s eyebrows.

“From where?” Jack asked. Warm blood still seeped through his fingers. Devon exhaled another lungful.

“Uh, Michigan I think.”

“He’s almost always in Green’s office,” Chris said, lying back on the table. His legs took up most of its length. 

Green was the social worker in charge of this Home. He doubled as a sort of counselor when the budget was tight, and it was always tight. The kids who went to him often were usually the ones recently taken from their guardians.

“It’s still bleeding that bad, huh?” Devon asked. Jack let the faucet that was his face do the talking. “Med room it is,” he sighed, getting up. He stomped on his half-finished cigarette and held out a hand to help Jack up. Jack ignored it preferring to keep his, potentially broken, nose shielded.

“I’ll be here.” Chris waved them off before crossing his arms behind his head to watch the clouds.

Walking uphill was uncomfortable at best. Every movement bumped and jostled Jack’s nose. He could feel the swelling setting in but refused to comment on it. He didn't want to look like even more of a bitch in front of Devon.

“You should steer clear of Kyle for the next couple days,” Devon said as they walked past the playground. The caretakers stared. Jack was warm with embarrassment.

“I’m not trying to spend quality time with him.”

“He’s been a loose cannon all month.” Devon held the back door open. “I don’t think he has a plan.” Jack’s stomach soured at the concept. Their shoes echoed off of the concrete floors and empty hallway.

“What’s he gonna do?” Jack whispered.

“Most likely? Be homeless for a while.” Devon exhaled through his teeth. “He kinda has to skip town to find a new job after how he got fired. Everyone heard about it within a week.”

“It was that bad?”

“Small town.” Devon gave it a second thought and shrugged. “But also, yea.” He checked both ends of the hall, making sure they were alone. “He got caught getting high at work. It sounded like it was just weed, but I don’t know. He’s done other stuff. It turned into a huge fuckin’ argument in front of a bunch of customers.”

“Wha-” Jack choked and coughed on a blood clot that slid down the back of his throat. Devon held open the door to the med room as Jack walked in past him.