Page 31 of Wicked Hungry

I look up, hopeful.

“But the teachers are crying for blood, you know that? They’re finding wrappers all over their classrooms. Now I realize it’s not just you. A lot of children seem to be having meat cravings these days. But not everybody has two whole boxes of meat snacks in their lockers. You see how we’re in kind of a sticky situation?”

God, the meat looks good on that tray.

“What do you want?”

If his hand wasn’t still pressed against my chest, I would jump past him and dive at the tray. I’ll tell him anything he wants if he’ll just let me eat.

“I’d like to vouch for your character to the teachers, but I don’t know you well enough. I’d like to give you a free meal right now, too, but these two things, you have to earn them, you see? And you’re going to have to owe me a favor, too. And I take favors very seriously.”

“Tell me what you want,” I say. “Please.”

“What I want is a reason not to call your mother. Does your mother know about your meat, Stanley? About the three solid pounds of meat snacks we found in your locker?”

I shake my head.

“Is your mother encouraging you to deal in meat snacks?” he asks me.

I shake my head again, my face growing warm.

He shakes his head, smiling. “No, she doesn’t like meat, does she, your mother?”

I shake my head.

“Okay, listen. You owe me a favor.”

I nod my head.

“You promise to repay the favor when you’re asked.”

Piper has let go of me and is back in his seat. The flute, strangely, is in his hands. Stranger still is the fact that I can’t remember him taking it down off the wall or putting it to his lips. And yet it seems so natural there, like a pencil in his hand.

“I’m not sure,” I say.

He plays a little tune. Just a few notes, but I find myself nodding.

“Of course. I owe you a favor. I’ll repay the favor when asked.”

His smile is as big as my confusion, but I forget everything else as he hands me the still-steaming tray.

Biting in, I taste the juices that I’ve been smelling for what seems like hours. It’s all I can do to keep myself from ripping it apart with my bare hands.

“So, Stanley. Let’s cut to the chase. Have you been taking the supplements?”

I stare at him, my mouth open. What if they’re illegal?

“Just nod or shake your head.”

I close my mouth.

“I said just nod or shake your head, Stanley.”

Why can’t I just shake my head?

“You can’t tell me, can you?”

“I don’t know. I want to talk, but—”