We made it to school with time to spare, so I headed to the vending machines to get myself a granola bar. Standing close beside me, Malachi was alert and scanning the hallways, always the Guard looking for danger, but his eyes got snagged on the selection of goodies behind the Plexiglas.

“You didn’t eat breakfast, did you?” I asked.

“I’m still getting used to being hungry,” he said as I popped another three quarters into the slot and got a bar for him, too.

Nutrition in hand, we headed into the open cafeteria, past the Goths sleeping on their backpacks, past the skinny, wannabe-gangsta kid in dirty jeans completing his oh-so-sneaky drug deal behind one of the wide, round pillars around the perimeter of the room, past the procrastinators hunched over their homework, and past the cheerleaders crowded around …

Tegan.

She sat behind a table, underneath a banner that said NADIA VETTER MEMORIAL FOOD DRIVE.

“Is that for your Nadia?” Malachi asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, indeed. I have no idea what she’s up to.”

I set down my backpack at a table and slid into a chair, watching Tegan accept cans of food and cash donations from the rest of the student body. Her short brown hair was stylishly messy around her pixie-like features, and her attire carefully treaded the line between painfully fashionable and outrageously slutty. She had this holier-than-thou look on her face, and I had to turn away because it was pissing me off.

“Are you going to eat that or merely crush it to dust?” Amusement laced Malachi’s voice as he sat down in the chair next to mine.

I looked down at my now manhandled granola bar. “This is how I like them.”

At that exact moment, Tegan spotted us. She waved me over, first happily, and then frantically when I didn’t move fast enough for her.

“If I want to avoid drama, I should at least go say hi. She’s trying to be nice.”

Malachi stared at her with curiosity. “Do you want me to go with you?”

This was our fifth day of school together, but we’d spent morning and lunch times discussing everything from the finer points of knife wielding to the art of sending a text message, leaving us little time for socializing. Which was fine with me. Especially as I took in the hungry expressions on the faces of the cheerleaders, all eyeing Malachi like they were hoping to have him for dinner.

“Um … maybe let me handle this one alone.” I got up from my chair. “I won’t be gone long.”

Tegan came out from behind her table to greet me. “I left a message for you last night. You didn’t call back.”

Ah, the smell of entitlement in the morning. “I haven’t checked my messages. I was kind of busy.”