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silverware clanked. The place seemed crowded, but every table had an open seat, as if they were all waiting for someone to arrive.
    The waitress walked away, leaving me to choose a spot on my own.
    I wove between the tables toward the back. A man in a black coat hunched in the corner, playing with a lighter. The woman sitting next to him rubbed a butter knife against her shirt and checked her teeth in the reflection. I paused before their booth.
    “Well?” the man grumbled. “We won’t bite.”
    “Speak for yourself,” the woman said.
    I slid into the booth seat across from them, and the woman handed me a cup of coffee. “Three sugars, no cream.”
    “How’d you know?”
    “Wild guess.”
    She introduced herself as Kiana and the man as Nick. I started to reply, but Nick cut me off. “We know who you are,” he said. “The question is, J.T., do you?”
    “What do you mean?”
    Neither one of them answered. I took a sip of my coffee. It was cold and a little too sweet.
    “Drink up,” Nick said, standing. “There’s something we need to show you.”
    I took another sip before following them out through a back door into the alley. A nearby Dumpster overflowed with garbage, tainting the air with the smell of rotting fruit and coffee grounds. Kiana shut the door behind me. She leaned against the brick wall, crossing her arms.
    Nick drew a long samurai sword from beneath his coat. The blade flashed silver as he raised it before him. “You think you’re a tough guy, don’t you? A real fighter?”
    I glared at him, not saying anything.
    “If you’re a fighter, then this belongs to you.” He held out the sword, offering it to me. “Take it.”
    I reached for the hilt. Before I could grab it, Nick snapped his wrist, slashing the blade across my arm.
    The pain shocked me. I clenched my wrist. “I’m dreaming,” I said, surprised by how much it hurt.
    “Tell that to the judge,” Nick replied. He offered the sword to me again.
    I looked at Kiana. “Go on, J.T.,” she said. “Prove that it’s yours. If you master the pain, you master yourself.”
    I reached for it again, but Nick gave me another slash on the arm.
    “Just a dream, right, bud?” He rested the blade against his shoulder.
    I tried one last time to take the sword. Nick only had to move the slightest bit before I flinched.
    He shook his head, giving me the same dismissive look that people always had. “We’re wasting our time on this one,” he said. “He’s nothing special.”

I STAYED IN BED the next morning, not wanting to sleep anymore and not wanting to get up. The dream had felt so real that I kept checking my arm for cuts. After lying awake awhile, hunger finally got the better of me. I hurried out to snag breakfast before the cafeteria closed.
    Campus appeared eerily empty. Most students who lived within a few hours of ASMA had probably gone home for the weekend. Even Dickie had left, dragging a sack of dirty laundry out early that morning.
    I ran into Sage on my way into the main building. “James!” she called. “Are you going to be here tomorrow?”
    “Sure.”
    Sage seemed so happy she could barely contain herself. “My dad’s coming to visit!” she said. “It’s his weekend to see me, and he wants to have a picnic. Will you come?”
    “To the picnic?”
    “He wants to meet my friends. You’ll like him.”
    “I don’t know,” I teased, thinking of the IM I’d gotten from ghost44. Was this what she meant by seeing me again? “Tomorrow is Tater Tot casserole day. I’d hate to miss those crispy, golden Tater Tots, dripping in creamy sauce with mushy carrots and gray peas.”
    She smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
    Sunday turned out to be a beautiful, blue-sky day. Sage’s dad burst into her dorm around one, bearing a large wicker picnic basket and a smile that crinkled his eyes. I’d seen him once before, on the day all the parents had helped their kids move in. He was older than most parents, but he