There was some satisfaction there, but not enough to overcome the sheer WTF-ery going on in my brain about the situation. I got through my classes like a zombie, not seeing or hearing, not really keeping with the program beyond shuffling along and groaning every once in a while. When lunchtime came, I debated where I should go to eat—to the library for some peace, or to the cafeteria to sit with my no-longer-so-estranged friends.

As much as I’d have liked to stare at Leaf awhile, appreciating that he had not two dimples but only one on the left side, the library won out, particularly after Mamacita. I settled in with a book and my packed lunch, inhaling my tuna fish with not a small amount of indelicacy. I would regret this choice mere minutes later when none other than my Friday date himself presented himself on my proverbial doorstep.

I smelled like a haddock.

Awesome.

“Hey,” I said, eyes sweeping over his jeans, new sneakers, T-shirt and a plaid shirt he’d left unbuttoned.

“Hello there, Serendipity.” He had such a nice voice, rich and deep, and he played my name like an instrument. It made me wriggle all over like an excited puppy.

...most things did. The hormones were intense.

“Hey.” I glanced over at Mr. Chekowitz. His gray head was dipped forward as he filed books on a cart. “Not sure I’m supposed to have company? They made an exception to the rule to let me eat here.”

“Don’t worry.” Leaf winked at me before sauntering over to talk to the librarian. I couldn’t hear their exchange, but Leaf smiled a lot, motioned at me, and Mr. Chekowitz nodded his grizzled head. The charming boy had charmed someone else. Not surprising, and I pushed aside my book bag at the table so Leaf could sit beside me.

“We have to be quiet. I promised,” Leaf said in a conspirator’s whisper before plopping down into his seat and unloading about forty tons of home-cooked food.

“Whoa, what is this?” I poked at the red top of the plastic.

“Deliciousness.” He doled out portions, halving everything. I eyed my brown-sack lunch, half of it gone already.

“...I kinda ate.”

“You’re not hungry?”

“No, I am. I always am lately. The kid likes their food. I just feel bad.”

“Don’t. Eat or I’ll be insult—mmm. I should explain.” Leaf produced a pair of plastic forks and motioned at me to dig in. “I told you many Rom have food rules, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” I could have argued more with him about whether or not I should let him throw food into my facial garbage disposal. Or I could enjoy the bounty before me.

Bounty it was.