"You two are related?" I squeaked.

"Aurora, this is Trevor. And jeez, no, we're not related for real. I'm adopted," Reese said of the big guy filling the chair beside me. Trevor gave my attention a wide grin, clearly happy to be noticed. "Thank God," she added a moment later, watching with some misgiving at the way her sort-of cousin was ogling little five-foot three me.

He ran a large hand through his wavy brown hair as he exclaimed to the other guy in the seat next to him, "See, I told you Dandoy! The new girl's got that Asian, runway model look."

I looked like a model to him? Despite my obvious lack of height? "Models are giraffe tall," I pointed out as Reese rolled her eyes. And I wasn't Asian. I was Scot-Irish German, on my mother's side. I hadn't a clue about my father.

With rusty, curly, unkempt hair, and a splash of freckles across his face, the one dubbed Dandoy craned his neck to see around Trevor and wink at me. "Hey, Aurora, right? Are you going to eat those peas?"

"Um, no?" I blinked at the mountain of peas already sitting on his tray. A soupspoon came my way to help itself to my untouched pile.

Moments later, a single, hand-tossed pea went sailing through the air to smack a girl on her shoulder at the next table over. The few tables on the patio were beginning to fill. The lunchroom monitor was pulling double duty by coming out to do a sweep of the patio.

The girl Dandoy's pea hit giggled when she glanced up, her attention captured. Brown eyes peered coyly through long brown bangs. She was obviously with the guy sitting next to her, the one built like a football player. In fact, the whole table of guys she sat with seemed to be testosterone-buff athletes. Five big guys and a little brown-haired girl.

I blinked at the spoonful of mash potatoes that came sailing back to land just short of Dandoy's tray. Ah, unrequited love.

The rest of lunch was uneventful. There was idle chatter of an upcoming trig test, talk of the autumn dance that Reese still needed to go dress shopping for, and an upcoming movie release she was dying to see. Reese kept me at the center of conversation, her gestures sweeping, pulling me along. Trevor snuck peeks at me, each glance percolating with curiosity at my quietness. Micah would nudge my foot, his eyes full of encouragement. I guess he knew how backward I could be while surrounded by so many people. I tended to close myself down when too many sets of emotions were going off all at once. Sometimes it gave me a headache, or even influenced my emotions, making them not my own. I wasn't a fan of that.

All the while Reese was leading the conversation at our table, my irritation was growing at the flying food being exchanged between our "star-crossed lovers." Miss Juliet was a pretty bad shot. I found myself intercepting more than the occasional wayward pea. Micah's hand shot up from time to time to block the mushier projectiles without even looking. Color me impressed.

Well, it's about time. I eyed the group across from us with annoyance, watching them take the food-flinging Juliet with them as they made motions to leave. I still had a heaping scoop of mashed potatoes occupying the middle compartment of my tray, and they so didn't want me to use it. Trust me, my aim was excellent.

From the corner of my eye, I caught the movement of Dandoy's hand pulling back, readying for one last shot. My eyes went wide as I recognized the orange projectile. Where had he gotten a gumball?

And then we all spotted the carton of chocolate milk he was aiming for, left behind on the table.

"No!" we all shouted at him. Too late.

I and the others watched in horror as the gumball went flying in a perfect arc to peg the milk carton. Skidding across the table with the force of the blow, the carton hit the top of a chair to explode its chocolaty contents all over the back of Juliet.

"Oh shit!" Trevor swore as her large boyfriend turned, along with the rest of the group, their expressions ugly. Trevor dumped the contents of his tray and held it up as a shield. "Incoming!"

Reese rolled from her chair and under the table, while all I had time to do as I covered her escape was to shield my head with my arms. I pressed myself flat to the table, holding my breath, waiting for it to be over...

The next twenty seconds, before the lunchroom monitor came running outside, was twenty seconds of food fighting hell. We found ourselves huddled, helpless in our crouched positions while an onslaught of milk sodden potatoes and fistfuls of mashed peas rained down. I cringed in my exposed position with my eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the impact. But I never got hit. Not even by a single pea. I peered out between my arms to the sight of Micah sitting in the seat across from mine, holding a tray over my head. He switched chairs so he could shield me?

Finally, the lunch monitor's piercing whistle put an end to the great Pea and Potato War of seventh period. Which we clearly lost.

Micah tossed the tray away, shaking the potatoes from the back of his mane. "Are you okay, little one?"

Nodding, I rose up from the food-splattered table. I cringed at a puddle of milk creeping my way. "I'm fine, Micah, but you didn't have to do that. You must be a mess."

"It's okay. No blood, no foul." He shrugged as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a crisp, white crewneck undershirt clinging to a subtly toned chest.

Good cheddar, he's hot! I gulped, averting my eyes. My cheeks were burning when I glanced back and got a good look at his strong, bare shoulders as he peeled off his milk-soaked dress shirt.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked me again. He reached across the table to tip my head up with a gently placed finger under my chin. "You're starting to...change colors."

"Uh huh." I gulped again. Wow—I mean, wow. What can you really say to someone when you're struggling with the impulse to lunge across the table and straddle them? I mean, I guess that's what this sensation was. I'd been attracted to guys before, but never like this.

My hands clamped down on the edge of the table as I stood my ground, my breath passing through parted lips. A foreign, bittersweet tang was stirring in my taste buds. Holy crap, what is wrong with me?

Swallowing hard, I tried to purge myself of the unfamiliar flavor. True, I had tasted many emotions in my time, but this? I hadn't the faintest clue what it was. I wasn't even sure if it was an emotion. Letting go of the table, I stepped backward to pull my chin away from the humming warmth of his touch—which wasn't doing anything to help assuage the I-want-to-straddle-him-now urge.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Micah inquired again, raising his eyebrows at my strange expression. "You didn't hit your head on the table when you ducked?"

"Oh-h-h, I think I did," Reese said feebly from underneath the table.

"What was that?" I shook my head to clear it. "Do you need help, Reese?"

"I don't know," she answered, pushing a chair backward. She peered out at spotless me standing beside a disgruntled Trevor, who was picking potatoes from his hair and on the verge of pounding his friend Dandoy for his lack of judgment.

"I'm bleeding a lot, but head wounds tend to do that." Reese lifted her hand from the side of her head to show me the palm that was indeed covered with blood. So much for the safety of the outdoor tables.

"Trevor," I hissed, suddenly sober, the strange taste/compulsion dissipating. I kicked the giant kid in the ankle to get his attention. "Scoop up your cousin. We have to get her to the nurse."

Trevor looked down and groaned, "Oh Reese, not again." He bent over, pushing the entire table aside as if it was a mere toy. He eased hands under her to pick her up. "Ah man," he said, carefully parting her short hair to get a better look at the gash. A creeping red was encroaching on her blue tips. "You're going to have to go to the emergency room to get stitches. Jeez, what did you hit your head on?"

"I don't know, something sharp, dummy!" she snapped, and then whimpered, "Trev, I don't want to ride in the ambulance."

"The last time she rode in one, it got into a traffic accident three miles away from the hospital," her cousin informed us. "It's okay, Reese. I'll wait with you while Aunt Karen arranges to drive you in."

"I can stay with her," I said, taking hold of Reese's hand as it dangled. "Just help me get her to the nurse, and you can go to your next class."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I said firmly, tucking her arm across her stomach. Reese is my friend. It was true, I realized. I had made a friend. Imagine that.

"Okay," Trevor nodded, then turned to head for the building with a repentant Dandoy in hot pursuit. "Let's go get you medical attention, you little klutz."

I was gathering up Reese's book bag with the intent to follow them when a hand pressed against the small of my back.

"You're going to be a while waiting for her mother to come pick her up," Micah murmured close. He reached around me to place a brown paper sack in my hands. "You should eat something while you're with her."

"O-okay," I stammered, taking the bag. "Will I see you again today?"

"I'll be around when you're done seeing her off."

My pulse beat erratically when Micah leaned in from behind, wrapping arms around my waist. He pulled me into a warm embrace. "I need to speak with you about something," he whispered into my ear. His lips then brushed the spot where the scar was buried beneath my hair.

With his arms still around me, he shot a hard look to the Aquafina machine where Alexander still stood, scrutinizing our interaction. The gentle strength of Micah's hold shifted around me as his posture straightened to address the intensity in the other's gaze.

"She is my little female to look after. Not yours," he growled low, his embrace tightening briefly before letting me go.

I stumbled into the cafeteria, paper sack in hand,leaving the two boys alone to stare each other down.

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VOTE if you agree things just got interesting! Who wants Aurora to hid around the corner and listen on the guy's coming conversation?

Thanks for reading!  Chapter Thirteen posts on Friday 7pm est, to kick off the weekend.