Shattered Castles 1 : Castles on the Sand by E. M. Tippetts Page B

inside?”
    I nod and together we walk into the school.
    JP walks past and I sneak a glance. He just looks away.
     
    A t lunchtime I dig the lighter out of my pocket and take a look at it. It isn't a cheap little Bic. It's all metal with, “Alexander W. Katsumoto” engraved on the side in script. It feels wrong to have this, as someone clearly gave it to him as a gift. I just wonder what kind of strange person would give a kid a cigarette lighter, as Alex has been flipping this thing like a psycho for a few years now.
    Kailie slides into the seat next to me, and I stuff the lighter back into my pocket, then notice she doesn't have any food. “Can I borrow five bucks?” she says. “I will totally pay you back.”
    I pull out my wallet and hand her twenty. “Just keep it.”
    “Thank you.” She gives me a hug and I notice how her bones dig into me. I watch her go through the cafeteria line and fill her tray full of food, then return to the table and wolf it down. I try not to stare, but other people in the cafeteria talk behind their hands and giggle. One girl mimes jamming her finger down her throat. I glare back at her. If they could see her barren room, they wouldn't be teasing her about an eating disorder. And even if it was an eating disorder, I don't see how that's funny at all.
    “Your parents not feeding you?” I ask.
    “I have to earn points to get meals, and I'm not earning the stupid points.”
    “How do you earn them?”
    “Finish my homework, do my shifts in the Inn. Total control.”
    I nod. Her parents no doubt think they’re setting the bar low, but I understand how Kailie sees it. To her, they’ve effectively said she’s not worth feeding unless she does her chores. I don’t think her parents are bad people, but I do think they’re clueless sometimes.
    She kicks me under the table. “Cheer up.”
    “People are laughing at you-”
    “I don't care. Stop it with the frownie face.” She scrapes her plate clean and licks her fork.
    “Don't kick,” I say. I lift my feet and sit cross-legged on the bench.
    She braces the sole of her shoe against my shin and shoves.
    “Ouch . What's with you?”
    She kicks hard enough that I stand up in order to avoid falling flat on my back.
    I gather my lunch and leave the cafeteria. She's in a mood again, and I know it's best to just stay away from her until she gets over it.
     
    A t the end of the day, I pack up my things at my locker and swing the door shut with a metallic crash. Alex, Ryan, and the rest of that crowd all loiter at the end of the hall. Apparently going to church hasn't changed Alex's social set at all. Not a big surprise. As I walk towards the exit, I grasp Alex's lighter in my hand and my steps slow. Only when they all stop talking to each other and turn to look at me do I realize I'm staring at them. I stop, not sure what to say or do next.
    The hallway is just as cold as outside, because it isn't all the way enclosed. There are clerestory gaps along the entire length that let in the cold air, rain, snow, and whatever else nature throws at us. It's a pretty design, but far from ideal. Try opening your locker on a freezing cold day when you can't wear gloves to manipulate the little metal lock, or imagine the patches of rust that develop over time. A tile floor gets extremely slippery when it rains or ices over.
    Alex steps away from the rest of the group and comes over to me. All eyes are on us. Right now, the age gap feels enormous. Alex is an adult, and the way he towers over me with those muscular shoulders and broad chest makes me feel like I'm an elementary school kid. He doesn't talk, just waits.
    I hold out his lighter to him. “I assume you want to keep this. It's way too nice to just give away.”
    Again with the raised eyebrow.
    I feel like I'm babbling, like I should just duck my head and flee. The moral high ground I had this morning allowed me to yell my way through the encounter. Without that, I feel so nervous that I'm