I can’t believe my mother’s buying this. I can’t believe she seems to be considering letting me go after everything I’ve told her. We’re all sitting in her living room, my mom and I, my stepmother and my stepmother’s parents, Ander and Mariam. I know no other way to call them than by their names. My stepmother insists I call them grandma and grandpa, but not in front of my mom. They’ve come to ask her permission to let Ander take me on a motorcycle trip through Northern California and Nevada. I’m eleven years old and terrified she’s going to say yes.