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other across
the room, much to the chagrin of the two scowling teachers that I
assumed had discipline duty for the day. The scent of over-cooked
French fries and salted hamburgers carried over the fainter smell
of sack lunch sandwiches and potato chips.
    I picked up my lunch, paid a few dollars to
the bored lady with a hairnet next to an ancient computer, and
carried my tray to a table near the door and a wall, a convenient
location where my back would be protected. The glares of several
students I passed confirmed the necessity of the position.
    When I sat down, a skinny student with spiky
brown hair looked up at me from his hamburger of mystery meat and
squishy peas. I gave him a half-smile that I hoped came across as
friendly. The last thing I needed was to be hustled during
lunch.
    “ Welcome to our school,” he
said amiably. At my questioning look, he shrugged. “I work in the
attendance office and saw the picture on your file. I’m
Brock.”
    “ Jaze,” I said. At his nod,
I shrugged, “But I guess you already knew that.”
    “ Yeah, I’m not really
supposed to see that stuff, but I can’t help it if someone leaves
the files lying around.” He gave an affable grin, “You’d be
surprised what you can find out in there. Did you know that Mr.
Corley once gave a student detention for not combing his hair?” At
my lack of comment, he continued, “Well, you’d have to know who Mr.
Corley is to find that funny. He’s bald.”
    His good-humor was contagious and I found
myself warming up to him. It turned out that he was in my same
grade, a junior. He told me he had failed his driving test for
failure to yield to a cow, and had to work in the evenings to help
pay for repairs on the Driver’s Education car.
    “ Who thinks to look for a
cow in the road in the Metroplex? I was being a responsible driver
looking out for pedestrians and all, not searching the roads for
livestock.” He let out a laugh. “But the driving instructor sure
saw it. He yelled so loud I think the cow might have died of fright
before I even hit it!” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “But hey,
it’s not my fault his brake didn’t work. I shouldn’t have to pay
for faulty school equipment, even if I was going a little
fast!”
    While he was talking, a voice from across
the cafeteria caught my attention. Scanning the mass of unfamiliar
faces, I found my neighbor at the long table against the far wall.
My stomach soured when I saw who she leaned against. Chet glared at
me, his dark eyes narrow. I met his gaze for a moment before reason
kicked in and I turned away. This wouldn’t be a good place to start
another fight. I toyed briefly with Principal Stewart’s comment of
possible suspension, but knew better than to press my luck.
    I finished my food in near silence,
responding to Brock’s questions with one-word answers until he
turned back to the other students at the table and left me in
peace. At the end of lunch, however, I was forced to ask him where
to find my fifth period history class.
    “ You’re in luck; that’s my
classroom, too! I can help you get caught up!” he replied with the
same enthusiasm you would expect to hear from a kid who had just
been told he was going to Disneyland.
    I suppressed a groan and shouldered my
backpack. Wary and on edge, I studied the hallways we passed. Chet
and the other werewolves had finished lunch and left early; I
wasn’t convinced they would pass up an opportunity to seek revenge
before school ended.
    Fortunately, my last three classes crawled
by without incident. Brock saved me a seat in Economics and took
time to show me where the gym was for Physical Education even
though he had Advanced English that hour. He then met me with an
enthusiastic grin outside the gym doors after school.
    “ What’d you think of Coach
Meyers?” he asked. He had a bright orange backpack slung over one
shoulder, and when he turned I saw a ‘kick me’ sign stuck to it
with gum. I pulled it off and handed