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forgot to take your meds today, I’m one of those high school girls. Plus, it’s supposed to be the biggest event of the season, with free candy,” I added, knowing that anything involving sugar would seal the deal.
    A long pause passed between us until he asked, “Will you be there?”
    â€œI gotta check with my parole officer, but I think I can swing it,” I said while toiling with my love-hate battle with my phone. Despite all its buttons and high-tech features, it had no arms, no lips, no breath. This tiny device served as both a gateway and wall between us. “I wish you were here.”
    â€œI feel you,” he whispered. The double meaning made me laugh out loud, as did the next topic of discussion.
    â€œSo ...” Caleb drawled, trying to sound sultry, but coming off extremely sleazy instead. “What are you wearing?”

4
    L unchtime: where social lines were clearly marked in the sand and where group status hung in the balance of the faintest whisper.
    Legends were born, hearts were broken, and the weak were herded to the slaughter in front of a live studio audience. Here lay the watering hole for all members of the food chain and hunting ground for predators. And I was the deadliest of them all.
    Just a taste. That was the Cambion policy, our credo. Just take enough to appease the spirit, then move on. It sounded simple enough, but sometimes taking a little was worse than taking none at all.
    I inhaled the boundless life that hummed in the air and consumed the electricity just under their skin. I could see their energy if I squinted my eyes—a turbulent haze or sweltering heat on the horizon line. This was my daily vitamin and Lilith’s food supply.
    Energy in assorted temperaments mingled in large gatherings like these, serving up a convenient buffet platter of human life force. Each sip of energy, no matter how small, gave me joy and replenished my starving psyche, a free-for-all without guilt. Though strictly for dietary purposes, I still felt weird about feeding from anyone who wasn’t Caleb. I didn’t want a stockpile of memories of another guy in my head. It was too intimate, too personal, so direct contact was for emergencies only.
    I sat at the far end of the cafeteria with the leftovers their peers chewed up and spat back out. These discarded table scraps assembled into a patchwork of loners, from bookworms to goths, to that one weird kid who never bathed and talked to himself. My allure didn’t work on the willful and chaste, which revealed more about my lunchmates than I’d really wanted to know.
    What no one realized was that they were the nicest people in the entire school. Unfortunately, this was a dead zone for anyone who was part of a preexisting clique, but it was an excellent place for those like myself who wanted to stay under the radar. Not even Malik had the nerve to come over, but he watched me from the east wing of the cafeteria, licking his chops.
    Trying my best to ignore him, I dove into my writing assignment headfirst. Papers and folders spread across the rectangular table, sorted by priority, subject, and difficulty. Between Caleb and work, I had to squeeze every moment to keep up with classes. I had to write a poem for English, which now seemed to be an effortless task. No doubt Nadine’s lingering influence had something to do with it, because much like her prose, mine was now leaning toward the dark and dismal.
    While I was trying to find a word that rhymed with “fester,” a voice whispered my name. “Hey, Sam.”
    I lifted my head in time to see Mia sitting next to me, wearing a hoodie and shades over her eyes. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
    â€œI should ask you the same question.” She nudged her chin toward my lunchmates.
    â€œUnlike you, this is my lunch period and I want to keep a low profile. How did you get out of class?”
    She waved her hall pass in front of my face.