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immediately back down.
    So does Frank, backing away from Henry’s grip. His eyes dart my way and in that brief look I see something worse promised. Just as quickly he looks back at Henry, face carefully blank as he turns and walks away, trying to resume his careless swagger, but failing at least a little.
    Henry’s friends sit back down, muttering about punks, and the other kids at the table look somewhat awestruck at the scene that’s just played out, that someone who is considered cooler than them has been taken down by these guys, while they are being allowed to share a lunch table. A couple of them shoot me confused glances, wondering what about me could have earned such defense.
    I observe this from my peripheral vision, however, as I’m staring at Henry myself, awed. He’s turned toward me now, and gazes back evenly, an expression in his eyes that I can’t decipher. He doesn’t seem to be angry with me, even though his breathing is still accelerated. As I watch, he takes a couple of deep breaths, mouth relaxing from anger to grim, clenched fists loosening. He nods tightly at me, resuming his place at the table.
    I’m no longer hungry, but I don’t move from my place, openly watching Henry. I can’t help it. It almost seemed as if he… protected ...me, as Frank had said. But…why would he do that? I’m confused, perplexed. A couple of times he glances covertly at me, but in those looks I can no more garner a reason than sprout wings and fly to the moon.
    For the first time all year, I spend the afternoon looking forward to photography. I can’t get the drama of lunch off my mind. No matter how I look at the situation, it still looks like he stood up for me.
    Why?
    When he comes into the classroom, I’m looking directly at him, trying to read his face. He stops next to the table when he sees my questioning look, looking at me with the same unreadable expression he had had earlier. A flush creeps up his cheeks, and he looks away, jaw clenching. He gives me another tight nod, for the first time not saying hello and I suddenly understand.
    He’s bothered and embarrassed that he had stood up for me, and in front of not only his friends but other students, among whom the story has spread like wildfire. I’d heard it being talked about when others didn’t know I could hear, and people have been looking at me as if trying to figure something out. Now he’s obviously sorry he had done it.
    Tears prick the backs of my eyes as I turn my head back down toward the desk. For just a little while I had felt the elation of having a guardian angel, having someone who wouldn’t let someone else be mean to me. Those couple of hours of feeling that safety only makes it more painful to have it taken away.
    As soon as the bell rings, I quickly scoop up my books, ready to flee. I feel a hand clamp down on my arm. Heat floods from the point of contact as I still, staring at the hand that now holds my arm firmly. The same hand I’ve studied so much, with the light scar across the back. His grip is solid, and yet gentle enough that I know I could easily break contact.
    “ Kate,” Henry says softly, and my heart lurches at the sound of my name coming from his mouth. “Please, I want to tell you—”
    I don’t wait to hear what he wants to say. I run, pushing past the other students in the doorway. A few people shove at me as I pass, but I manage to keep my footing.
     
     

Chapter Four
     
    I run through the halls, pushing and shoving through the thick throng of teenagers until I reach the safety of the doorway. I leap down the steps, running toward my escape. I’m not sure if my feet tangle up as I reach the sidewalk or whether someone trips me, but suddenly I’m sprawled on the sidewalk, my books and papers scattering.
    “ Kate!”
    I hear him call my name and look back to see him coming out of the door. I scramble up, leaving my books and papers where they lay. Taking the time to gather them will only give him the