The Watcher

He squeezed my hand. “See you then.”

At lunch, Damiel held a table for us near the middle of the room. The three girls I’d seen talking about him the other day stood by his table with their lunch trays as though they wanted to join him. When he saw me and waved, they shot me dirty looks. That alone was intimidating. He already had his lunch with him, so I pointed to the concession stand, where I needed to get mine, and he gave me a nod.

Hurrying, I grabbed a panini sandwich and an iced tea. Heather caught up with me in line. Her hair in a messy ponytail, she wore a baggy sweatshirt and jeans, not her usual stylish gear. Grayish rings circled her eyes.

“What’s with the outfit?” I asked.

She flushed and said apologetically, “It’s Jesse’s. I was up most of the night studying for a huge Spanish test and I’m a bit shaky. Spilled coffee all over my shirt.”

“How was the test?”

“Okay I guess.” For Heather, “okay” was at least an A. I wasn’t far behind, but I didn’t stress about things the way she did.

“I’m having lunch with Damiel today and he’s got us another table.”

“You won’t sit with us? Is it the sweatshirt?” she teased. “No, seriously. That’s great. I’m happy for you. I didn’t know you were into the bad-boy type.”

Was that what Damiel was, a bad boy? Come to think of it, who was I kidding? “He’s nice to me.” I had always figured “bad boys” didn’t treat girls very well.

“That’s the best kind,” she said. “Remember the movie on Friday? Dean already got tickets online. Do you want him to get one more?”

“Um, not sure yet.”

“Good. You want to make him work for it. But from the way he looks at you—”

“What do you mean?”

Heather raised her eyebrows suggestively. “I think you know.”

I blushed. There was something in the way he looked at me that was all-consuming. I wondered what exactly that was as I paid for my lunch and went to join Damiel. The cafeteria was getting crowded and I noticed a few people eyeing our large table enviously.

He was looking at me that way again, and I realized it would be so easy to get pulled right into him, as though his world was all that mattered.

“Wow,” I said. “You got us a private table?”

“I do what I can,” he said with a flourish.

I sat beside him and opened the can of iced tea, trying to act casual. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Good,” he said with a slow, sultry smile. “Better now.”

A fluttering in my stomach made me not want to eat. Unwrapping my sandwich, I hoped my appetite would return once I had actual food in front of me. It didn’t.

The lasagna on Damiel’s plate must have been the special, but I hadn’t even seen it on the menu. As he cut a forkful and put it into his mouth, I noticed he was staring at me. He didn’t even try to hide it.

Then again, why would he? With Damiel, I always knew where I stood, but what surprised me was that I couldn’t help but stare back. When he smiled at me, his eyes weren’t just brown, they had shimmering bronze flecks that caught the light. As I gazed into them, the rest of the cafeteria faded and blurred into the background.

“You should eat something,” he said after swallowing a few bites.

Suddenly realizing I’d been staring way too long, I focused on my dry, unappealing sandwich.

“Here,” he said, holding up a forkful of lasagna for me to taste. “Try this. It’s the food of the gods. I swear.”

Was he seriously offering to feed me in the school cafeteria? Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a few girls glaring at me. Good thing I didn’t know any of them.

He leaned in closer, raised his fork slightly, and nodded. A voice in my head said C’mon, live a little.

Slowly, I inclined toward him and opened my mouth. It was the most perfect lasagna I’d ever tasted.

“You weren’t kidding, were you? That’s a drug,” I said. “I didn’t think the staff here could actually cook.”

The corners of his mouth curled into a grin. “They can’t cook a damn thing. I got this at a restaurant last night and they just heated it up.”

My sandwich was now seriously outclassed, but I took a bite anyway. The lasagna had sparked my appetite. The butterflies in my stomach had subsided, too.

He offered me another forkful of food. I accepted readily, not caring as much this time about what people were thinking, because he was looking at me even more intensely than he had before. He practically smoldered, and I suddenly got how intimate this gesture of sharing food was meant to be. I could feel it all the way to my toes.

“It goes better with a bit of Chianti.” He took a swig from a stainless steel water bottle, then held it up for me. “Want some?”

I didn’t accept it and lowered my voice. “You brought wine to school?”

“They had it at the restaurant, too. It’s great what you can get at a restaurant. You should try one sometime.” He took another bite of his food, savoring it. “It’s even better fresh out of the oven. How about it?”

As I leaned back in my seat to finish eating, I wondered exactly what he was offering: di

“I can get reservations for Friday,” he continued.

“I already have plans on Friday.”

“How about Saturday?”

Could I actually go out with Damiel? He was charming enough, but he wasn’t exactly the type I’d bring home to Mom. I tried to recall her work schedule. If she was working, I wouldn’t have to introduce them. She’d never let me get on the back of that motorcycle. “What time?”

“Seven?” he asked. I winced slightly. If my calculations proved correct, she’d be working until seven. “What’s wrong?”

“My mom should be coming home from work around then, and she hates bikes…”

“I have a car, too.” He motioned to the rain outside. “It’s not bike season anymore.”

I relaxed a little. “Then seven would be great.”

Lunch was almost over. Back at the table where my friends sat, Heather had already left but Jesse and Michael lounged on the benches, talking. Michael glanced over at me and I felt a twinge in my chest. I turned to see Damiel smile at him with such malice it startled me. Michael’s expression hardened, and I could swear the energy crackled between the two of them. In my mind’s eye, everything went black, followed by a blinding flash of light. It made me dizzy. Damiel put his hands on my shoulders, steadying me, and a shudder ran up my spine. It was pleasure, wasn’t it? It had to be.

Smiling down at me, he said, “Let’s get you to class.”

“I can get myself there,” I said, guilt sweeping over me. It was difficult enough to get over Michael, but doing that with someone he despised made me seem petty. It wasn’t my fault that Damiel liked me and Michael didn’t, or that the two of them had some weird bad blood between them. But it had been harder to see Michael than I thought, and I’d soon have to sit through English with both of them.

“Besides,” I added, “I need to freshen up.”

I’d read once that the antidote to some venoms is to inject small doses of the venom and let the body develop its own antivenin. They do this with farm animals, horses, sheep, and goats. I would have to do this to myself with Michael. See him in small doses at school every day until seeing him no longer made me suffer. I couldn’t expect Damiel to understand, but I needed some time alone to prepare myself for a class with Michael. I needed to let the small dose of him I’d just seen in the cafeteria prepare me for the larger dose.

Damiel squeezed my shoulders gently a few times, and I sighed. I was so tired all of a sudden, I could have taken a nap right then and there. He dropped his hands and whispered in my ear, his breath almost tickling my skin. “See you in class, beautiful.” I drank it in and walked away, not looking at anyone on my way out.

Perhaps Damiel was an antidote all by himself.