It's because everyone else has abandoned me too. I look up, hearing Damen's familiar laugh, only to find him surrounded by Stacia, Honor, and Craig, along with the rest of the A-list crew. Which wouldn't be all that surprising with the way things are going, except for the fact that Miles and Haven are there too. And as my eyes sweep the length of the table, I drop my apple and my mouth runs dry when I see that all of the tables are now pushed together. The lions are now lunching with lambs. Which means Roman's prediction came true. Bay View High School's lunch time caste system has come to an end.

"So, what do you think?" Roman says, sliding onto the bench opposite me, hooking his thumb over his shoulder as a smile widens his cheeks. "Sorry for just dropping in on you like this, but I saw you admiring my work, so I thought I'd stop by for a chat. Are you all right?" He leans toward me, his face appearing genuinely concerned, though luckily I'm not stupid enough to fall for it. I meet his gaze, determined to hold it for as long as I can. Sensing he's responsible for Damen's behavior, Miles's and Haven's defection, and the entire school living in harmony and peace—but lacking the evidence needed to prove it. I mean, to everyone else he's a hero, a true Che Guevara, a lunch time revolutionary. But to me he's a threat.

"So I assume you made it home safely?" he asks, chugging his soda though his eyes are on me. I glance at Miles, watching as he says something to Craig that makes them both laugh, then I move on to Haven, seeing her lean toward Honor, whispering into her ear. But I don't look at Damen.

I refuse to watch him gaze into Stacia's eyes, place his hand on her knee, and tease her with his very best smile as his fingers creep along her thigh... I saw plenty of that already in English. Besides, I'm pretty sure that whatever they're up to is just foreplay—the first tentative step toward the kind of horrible things I saw in Stacia's head. The vision that freaked me so bad I took down a whole rack of bras in my panic. And yet, by the time I got myself upright and settled again, I was sure she'd done it on purpose, never considered it to be some kind of prophecy. And even though I still think she created it just out of spite, and that their being together now is merely a coincidence, I have to admit it's pretty disturbing to see it played out.

But even though I refuse to watch it, I still try to listen—hoping to hear something pertinent, some vital information exchange. But just as I focus my attention and try to tune in, I'm met by a big wall of sound—all of those voices and thoughts merging together, making it impossible to distinguish any particular one.

"You know, Friday night?" Roman continues, his long fingers tapping the sides of his soda can, refusing to budge from this line of questioning, even though I refuse to participate. "When I found you alone? I have to tell you, Ever, I felt awful leaving you like that, but then again, you insisted."

I glance at him, uninterested in playing this game but thinking that if I just answer his question, then maybe he'll leave. "I made it home just fine. Thanks for your concern."

He smiles, the grin that probably makes a million hearts swoon—but only chills mine. Then he leans in and says, "Aw, now look at that, you're being sarcastic, aren't you?"

I shrug and gaze down at my apple, rolling it back and forth across the table.

"I just wish you'd tell me what I've done to make you hate me so much. I'm sure there's got to be some kind of peaceful solution, some way to remedy this."

I press my lips together and stare at my apple, rolling it along on its side as I push it hard against the table, feeling its flesh soften and give as the skin starts to break.

"Let me take you to dinner," he says, his blue eyes focused on mine. "What do you say? A right and proper date. Just the two of us. I'll get the car detailed, buy some new clothes, make a reservation somewhere swank—a good time guaranteed!"

I shake my head and roll my eyes, the only response I plan to give.

But Roman's undaunted, refusing to fold. "Aw, come on, Ever. Give a bloke a chance to change your mind. You can opt out at anytime, scout's honor. Hell, we'll even make up a safe word. You know, if at any time you decide things have strayed too far from your comfort level, you just shout out the safe word, all activity will cease, and neither of us will ever speak of it again." He pushes his soda aside and slides his hands toward mine, the tips of his fingers creeping so close, I yank mine away. "Come on, give a little, will ya? How can you say no to an offer like that?"

His voice is deep and persuasive, his gaze right on mine, but I just continue rolling my apple, watching the flesh burst free of the skin.

"I promise it'll be nothing like those rubbish dates that wanker Damen probably takes you on. For one thing, I'd never leave a girl as gorgeous as you to fend for herself in a parking lot." He looks at me, a smile playing at his lips when he says, "Well, I suppose I did leave a gorgeous girl like you to fend for herself, but only because I was honoring your request. See? I've already proven I'm at your service, willing to jump at your every command."

"What's with you?" I finally say, peering into those blue eyes without flinching or looking away. Wishing he'd just give it a rest and rejoin the only other lunchtable in this school, the one where everybody's welcome but me. "I mean, does everyone have to like you? Is that it? And if so, don't you think that's just a tad insecure?"

He laughs. And I mean, a genuine, thigh-slapping laugh. And when he finally calms down, he shakes his head and says, "Well no, not everyone. Though I do have to admit, it is usually the case." He leans toward me, his face mere inches from mine. "What can I say? I'm a likable guy. Most people find me quite charming."