The lunch line smelled like overcooked vegetables and fryer oil, but not in a way that made me want to turn around. Cape Cod Tech\u2019s cafeteria wasn\u2019t fancy, but it was big, loud, and full of movement \u2014 a hunting ground of sorts, if you thought about it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Today\u2019s special was Salisbury steak. Or at least, that\u2019s what the sign claimed. The slabs on the serving tray were dark brown and glistening under the heat lamp, and while I\u2019d had my share of questionable cafeteria food, this actually smelled\u2026 decent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The lunch lady, a short woman with hair the color of cigarette ash and laugh lines deep enough to store secrets, plopped one onto my tray with a scoop of mashed potatoes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAny chance,\u201d I said, lowering my voice conspiratorially, \u201cthat a starving new kid could talk you into a little extra?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her eyes narrowed, but the corner of her mouth twitched. \u201cOh, I see. Think you\u2019re charming, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I leaned on the counter just enough to make it look like I had all day. \u201cNo, ma\u2019am. I know<\/em> I\u2019m charming.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She laughed \u2014 actually laughed \u2014 and before I knew it, she was sliding not one, but three<\/em> extra slabs onto my tray.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t say I never did nothing for you,\u201d she said, waving me along.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I found a table near the back wall, the kind where you could see the whole room but not get boxed in. The wolf liked vantage points. I\u2019d barely taken my first bite when I saw him come in \u2014 Gabriel, hood still up, moving with that cautious awareness of someone who\u2019s learned to read a room before stepping too far into it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He made it three steps before a kid \u201caccidentally\u201d shoulder-checked him hard enough to jolt his tray. Gabriel didn\u2019t spill anything, but the other guy smirked like he\u2019d won a prize. Gabriel\u2019s expression didn\u2019t change, but I caught the faint flare of his nostrils, the kind you get when you\u2019re swallowing down the urge to snap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He scanned the room, saw me, and after a pause that felt like a choice, he came over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMind if I sit?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I shrugged toward the empty seat. \u201cGo ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n For a while, we ate in silence, the cafeteria noise filling the gaps. He picked at his food like he was just killing time. I\u2019d already finished one slab and was starting on a second when I decided to break the quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou know,\u201d I said, \u201cthis stuff\u2019s not bad. I was expecting worse.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He gave a small, almost amused snort. \u201cGuess you\u2019re easier to please than I am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I speared another bite, chewed, then slid one of my untouched slabs across the table toward him. \u201cHere. You look like you could use it more than I can.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He glanced from the meat to me, suspicion flickering in his eyes before giving way to something else \u2014 surprise, maybe. \u201cYou\u2019re\u2026 giving me food?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYeah. Unless you\u2019re vegetarian, in which case I\u2019ll take it back and reconsider everything I thought I knew about you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A smile ghosted over his face before he caught it. \u201cNo. I\u2019m not vegetarian.\u201d He pulled the tray closer and took a bite. \u201cHuh. You\u2019re right. Not bad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n We didn\u2019t talk much more, but something eased in his posture. And for the first time since I\u2019d arrived on this island, I felt the faint outline of a pack forming \u2014 small, fragile, but real.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The wolf in me approved.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The lunch line smelled like overcooked vegetables and fryer oil, but not in a way that made me want to turn around. Cape Cod Tech\u2019s cafeteria wasn\u2019t fancy, but it was big, loud, and full of movement \u2014 a hunting ground of sorts, if you thought about it. Today\u2019s special was Salisbury steak. Or at […]<\/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-15","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-high-school-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15","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=15"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":16,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15\/revisions\/16"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}