Meet Maxx Demelo, future cult leader extraordinaire.

After we had dismissed group for the evening ten minutes early due to zero participation, Kristie had mentioned that members were allowed to miss only a certain number of sessions. I hadn’t realized that they were held accountable for their attendance to such a degree.

Having already missed one meeting, Maxx would be able to miss only one more before Kristie would have to report his attendance record to his probation officer. That would come with some hefty consequences, given that his jail time was suspended contingent on his group and counseling participation.

“Are you coming?” Renee asked, nudging my arm with her tray. Startled, I took my eyes from Maxx to follow my roommate to a newly empty table. Thank god, no smelly frat guys.

I sipped on my water while Renee started eating her salad. I watched her as she cut up the lettuce into tiny pieces before putting them in her mouth.

“Does that make it taste any better?” I asked, eyeing her food skeptically. Renee gave me a look that said Shut up and let me eat.

In the lull of silence that followed, my eyes flitted across the room again. Maxx continued to stand beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. He was leaning against the wall and looking relaxed. But even from here I could see the fine tension in his neck and shoulders. His jaw was rigid, and his eyes darted around the room, always moving, always looking.

His blond curls stuck out on top of his head as though he had been running his fingers through his hair. He wore a tattered and worn pair of jeans and a faded blue T-shirt. Without trying, he was still the best-looking person in the room. I hated how some individuals were born with the innate gift of looking awesome without putting forth any effort. It wasn’t fair for the rest of us average-looking folks.

He surreptitiously checked the time on his watch and then went back to leaning, ever so casually, against the wall. He kept his head down, purposefully not making eye contact, and it was for that reason alone that I knew he was up to something.

“You sure you don’t want anything to eat? You know you’ll be hungry as soon as we get back to the apartment,” Renee said, interrupting my stalkerish staring.

“I’ll be fine,” I responded dismissively. Renee’s lips pinched together.

I gave her a smile, albeit a forced one. “If I get hungry I’ll just raid your stash,” I joked, hoping tonight had allowed me to resume my attempts at teasing her.

Renee’s lips relaxed, and she smiled back. “I may have gotten you some of those buttered crackers you like. You know, just so you stop eating mine,” she added, and I tried not to look shocked. But damn, I hadn’t been expecting that.

They may seem like just crackers to you, but for Renee, that was a huge step. And it showed me, more than anything else, that she was trying to repair our broken friendship.

Who knew crackers could fill me with the warm fuzzies?

“Thanks,” I told her honestly, and this time my smile was easy and natural and bordering on ecstatic. I didn’t quite know what to do with all these olive branches she was tossing my way.

“I’m gonna go grab an apple,” she announced, getting to her feet. I leaned back in my chair and chugged the rest of my water. My eyes wandered back over to Maxx, and this time he was standing in front of the exit. He looked around and then quickly opened the door.

What the heck was he up to?

A young boy, probably no more than fifteen, slipped into the commons. Maxx put his hand on his shoulder and leaned down to speak to him. Maxx glanced around the room again before quickly depositing the boy at a table near the back, hidden in a dark corner.

I watched Maxx as he hurried to the dinner line and grabbed two trays, loading them up with food. Not knowing what possessed me, I got to my feet and followed him. I slipped into the line behind him, grabbing a tray, though not putting anything on it.

I really was taking this stalker thing to an extreme this evening.

When Maxx reached the front of the line, he scanned his card. Then he scanned it again. I watched as his mouth formed a thin line and his face flushed red as he swiped his ID card over and over again.

I peeked over his shoulder and read the machine. Insufficient funds. Maxx looked back toward the corner table, where he had left the boy. He picked up the trays and started to walk away with them.

The woman working behind the cash register called after him. “You can’t take that! You haven’t paid for it!” she yelled. Maxx stopped and looked around, realizing he suddenly had the attention of most of the people in the commons.

The smirking look of confidence that he typically wore was replaced by embarrassment and something that looked a lot like panic.

Before the woman could approach him, I stepped in front of her and held out my student ID card. “I’ll pay for it,” I said shortly, giving her my version of the stink eye. Hey, I could pull off intimidating when I wanted to.

Maxx, realizing I was there and had come to his rescue, looked ready to argue. I shot him a warning look and turned back to the lady, who had a nasty case of psoriasis and was obviously looking to wield what little bit of authority she had in her sorry life.

“You should just go ahead and swipe this. The line is getting pretty huge,” I commented dryly, daring her to argue with me.

Bitchy cafeteria lady grabbed my card with an indignant huff and quickly swiped it, practically shoving it back into my hand. “Thank you,” I called out sweetly, depositing my still-empty tray back on the stack.

Maxx hadn’t waited for me; he was already across the room. It’s not like I expected a thank-you or anything, but an acknowledgment of some type would have been nice. Clearly manners were a foreign concept to him.

I followed Maxx back to his table. He couldn’t get rid of me that easily. I was more than a little interested in the boy he had snuck into the commons, why he had loaded up the trays with enough food to feed an army, and why he couldn’t even look me in the eye after I had stepped in to help him.

I approached the table and could hear the young boy talking to Maxx in an excited voice. “Thanks, man. I’m starving!” he said sincerely. Looking at the frail boy with hollow cheeks and tired eyes, I knew that he meant it. He looked like he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in a while.

It was clear that he and Maxx were related in some way. They both had been graced with a head full of thick blond waves and the same blue bedroom eyes. But where Maxx was tall and broad, the younger boy was thin and slight, though it was hard to tell if that had more to do with diet and lifestyle than with genetics.

From the protective way Maxx interacted with him, as well as the clear family resemblance, I figured they were siblings. As I watched them, I recognized that almost-tender nurturing all too well. And I felt a moment of connection with Maxx that made my chest ache from missing my sister.

Maxx slid one full tray to the boy, who attacked the food as though he would never eat again. He smiled down at the younger boy in a way that made him even more attractive, something I hadn’t thought possible.

I hung back, blatantly eavesdropping.

“Why aren’t you eating at school?” Maxx asked.

The younger boy looked up with those blue eyes that were so much like Maxx’s and shook his head. “Uncle David hasn’t paid my overdue lunch charges in two months. Sometimes Cory will give me part of his lunch, but I feel, like . . . pathetic asking,” the boy said, shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“What about food at the house? Can’t you make yourself a packed lunch?” Maxx asked, becoming more agitated.

The boy wouldn’t look at Maxx; he was too focused on filling his mouth with as much food as possible. “Yeah, if I want to bring cat food and beer for lunch,” he replied, drinking some of his soda.

Maxx’s brow furrowed, and I could tell he was angry. “I gave that asshole enough money to cover whatever you need for months. You’re telling me there’s no fucking food in the house? And you don’t have money to cover lunch at school? Where the fuck did it all go?” Maxx snarled, and the boy shrugged.

“He hasn’t been home in over a week. He probably went to Atlantic City again,” the boy said, seeming unconcerned even as his older brother seethed beside him.

Maxx smacked the table with his hand. “That money is for you! Not for him to dick around with! I swear, I’m gonna fucking kill that bastard!” Maxx’s voice rose, and he looked around to see if he had been overheard. And then his eyes fell on me.

Busted.

Maxx’s eyes met mine, and they narrowed in annoyance. Obviously he was not happy to see me.

I walked to stand next to the table and smiled down at the boy. I tried not to laugh at the way he was now staring up at me with his mouth hanging open. He had a smear of potatoes on his chin, and I thought about wiping it off. But I didn’t want to give the poor thing a heart attack if I touched him.

I turned back to Maxx, who was refusing to make eye contact, his head bowed down as though he found the table really interesting. I stared at the top of his curly head, willing him to look at me, but he was doing a great job of pretending I wasn’t there.

“How’s it going, Maxx?” I asked, pouring just enough sugar into my voice to be obnoxious.

Maxx’s shoulders stiffened, but he still refused to look up. He pushed some peas around on his plate. “Fine, thanks,” he said through gritted teeth. I knew without him having to say a word that it irked him that I had paid for their food. I got the distinct impression that Maxx was used to taking care of things and balked at the thought of accepting charity of any sort.