The cafeteria was its usual chaos \u2014 trays clattering, voices bouncing off the tile, the smell of mystery meat and overcooked fries. Gabriel and I had claimed our usual corner table, the kind of place that gave us a good view of the room and no one dared crowd us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mark slid in beside us with his lunch, looking more comfortable than yesterday. Still a little wide-eyed at the sideways glances from the rest of the room, but he was settling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s when he<\/em> showed up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One of the knuckleheads from yesterday \u2014 the same jackass who thought shoving Mark around was a good idea \u2014 shuffled up with a tray in his hands. His steps faltered halfway, like his instincts screamed at him to turn back, but he forced himself forward. I could already smell the fear on him. Sharp. Sour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He set his tray down at the edge of our table. \u201cUh\u2026 hey. Mark.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mark looked up, cautious but polite. \u201cHi?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The guy rubbed the back of his neck. \u201cI, uh\u2026 just wanted to say thanks. For last night. You really helped me figure out that\u2026 spreadsheet thing.\u201d He stumbled over the word like it was foreign, then forced a sheepish grin. \u201cWould\u2019ve been lost without you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I didn\u2019t say a word. Didn\u2019t need to. Just fixed him with a stare \u2014 the kind of stare that promises bones will snap if a wrong syllable comes out. Gabriel leaned back, casual but coiled like a spring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mark, though\u2026 he smiled. Gentle, genuine. \u201cYou\u2019re welcome. You did great once you understood it. Just keep practicing, you\u2019ll get better.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The kid nodded quickly, relief washing over him, and bolted back to safer ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mark returned to his fries like nothing happened. Gabriel raised an eyebrow. \u201cOkay\u2026 what was that? Why\u2019d you go easy on him after he treated you like trash yesterday?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mark shrugged, soft-spoken. \u201cBecause it was the right thing to do. My dad always says\u2026 forgiveness is strength. Hate just eats you up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I nearly choked on my soda. Forgiveness wasn\u2019t exactly my go-to. Neither was Gabriel\u2019s. But there was something in the way Mark said it \u2014 not self-righteous, not naive, just\u2026 solid. Like it was bone-deep in him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel grinned slowly. \u201cMan, I gotta meet this dad of yours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mark blinked, then smiled back. \u201cYou should. Both of you. Come over for dinner. My mom will cook enough to feed an army, and my dad\u2026 well, he\u2019ll probably try to talk your ears off. But they\u2019d like you. I know they would.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I leaned back, chewing on that idea. A family that big, that open\u2026 it felt foreign. Dangerous, even. But looking at Mark, seeing how anchored he was in it \u2014 maybe it was worth stepping into his world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel nudged me with an elbow. \u201cDinner at the Harcourts. What do you say, Thane?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I smirked. \u201cAs long as your dad doesn\u2019t mind a couple of wolves at his table.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mark laughed, not knowing how close to the truth I was. \u201cTrust me, he\u2019ll welcome you like family.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The cafeteria was its usual chaos \u2014 trays clattering, voices bouncing off the tile, the smell of mystery meat and overcooked fries. Gabriel and I had claimed our usual corner table, the kind of place that gave us a good view of the room and no one dared crowd us. Mark slid in beside us […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-103","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-high-school-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/103","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=103"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/103\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":104,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/103\/revisions\/104"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=103"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=103"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=103"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}