Page 14 of Fighting the Forbidden

“There. That should be enough.” He smirked at the lunch lady.

“Thank you, Remington.” She swept the change off the counter, deliberately examining each dime and nickel as she dropped them into her drawer. “Now, beat it. You’re holding up the line.”

“Come on.” Remington nudged me with his elbow and jerked his head toward the cafeteria.

Mortified, but grateful and curious, I grabbed my tray and followed. “Thank you for doing that,” I said as I fell in step with him.

“It’s bullshit.” He lifted his tray. “Dogs shouldn’t eat this garbage. Kids shouldn’t have to pay for it.”

“Uh, yeah.” I hurried to keep up with him.

He banged his tray onto a table in the back of the large, crowded cafeteria, not bothering to ask the other kids if we could join them. Everyone seemed afraid of his presence, either offering a quick, mumbled greeting or looking away. Remington didn’t seem to notice or care.

“How long you been here?” he asked, stabbing his plastic spork into the center of the glob of meat on his plate.

“Couple weeks.” Switching schools mid-year had sucked.

“Is Royal your first or last name?”

“Last. It’s Griffin…everyone calls me Griff, though.”

He nodded once. “What grade, Griff?”

“Fourth.”

“Sparks or Sheely?”

“Sheely.”

He grunted. “She’s a witch. Her grandson’s in my class. Gonna kick his ass one of these days.”

“What grade are you in, Remington?”

He flicked his ice-blue gaze at me. “Remy. No one calls me Remington except my asshole dad.” He jerked his head toward the lunch line. “And the crusty lunch ladies.”

I snorted and took a bite of my sauce-covered…meat. “Why’s your dad an asshole?”

His icy stare settled on me again. “Why can’t your parents pay your lunch tab?”

That shut me up.

My stomach rumbled, so I held my nose and choked down the gross food while Remy gave me tips about the school and neighborhood. Turned out, we didn’t actually live that far from each other.

After I’d finished my last bite, Remy slapped the table. “Let’s go.”

I glanced at the wide, metal doors that led to the playground. “Outside?”

He followed my gaze with a blank expression. “Later. I want to check on my sister first.”

“You’ve got a sister?”

“Yup. She’s in kindergarten. Downstairs. Come meet her.”

It wasn’t like I had a burning desire to have kick balls thrown at me or slice open my leg on the rusty slide, so I shrugged. “Okay.”

We grabbed our trays and dropped them off at the wide, metal window, then I followed Remy into the hallway.

“No one’s gonna stop us?” I whispered.

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