It turned out that feeding a hungry dragon was a dangerous business. The offcuts were acceptable to it as food, but it had a habit of snatching them away very quickly when offered. The idea of dumping meat into a bowl like it was a pet seemed wrong, so I elected the personal approach. Each meal time, I would sit on the floor with a plastic bag full of morsels divided into hefty chunks, and offer them by hand.

The infant had reflexes that were quick and definitely reminded me of birds of prey and reptiles in how circumspect and warily it treated everything. Still, there were hints of behaviour that seemed very similar to domesticated cats and dogs. From dogs, there weren't many recognisable traits, but the shadow of loyalty and the half-told suggestion of a familial brotherhood, like a wolf-pack, seemed to be present. Much more so was the haughtiness, the ego, the self-interest and implied ownership, that seemed to be at the heart of every feline personality I'd encountered.

The snatching of food didn't bother me, though it did result in nicks and cuts on my fingers and palms. There were lots of sharp edges on its face; the nose-tip, the spurs under the jaw, even the facial ridging was made of hard lines that could break the skin. That wasn't the worst though. It developed another habit that was downright painful. If I didn't hand over the morsel quickly enough, it would twist its head, and quick as a flash, the jaw would spring open and then close over my wrist, demanding that I drop what I was holding.

There was never so much pressure that I was in any serious danger, the jaw's grip light enough to be no more than a warning, but just like our first meeting with the littering of marks on my torso, I didn't come away unscathed. Each time it did this, there were a lot of tooth marks. A lot of them. There was no way for us to speak as two people could, but it was obvious what the creature was saying to me: do as I want, or I may take your hand.

It was relatively gentle about the way it told me, but ultimately, I knew what the action represented; a threat.

The behaviour was confusing though, because there were moments where I experienced the exact opposite. They were fewer, rarer, over those first few days, but they still happened. Only five times before it grew too big to comfortably do this, but on those occasions, after it had its fill and didn't want any more, it ignored the bed I had created, came across and sat down, curling into a warm scaly ball on my lap.

It was those moments that made me feel responsible for it, connected to it.

Not just because it was an amazing totally-impossible marvel that defied reality, but more because it was a living creature that I was making a bond with.

I cared.

At school, I kept my promise to Lucy and made an effort to talk to and be friends with Theo. He was one those rare kids that seemed a perfect fit for the super-cool end of the high school social spectrum, but had no outward interest in any particular clique. He was definitely good-looking; taller than me, shaggy-haired, clever and easy-going, with a sort of subdued rockstar air to him. The jocks treated him like one of them, the theatre groupies were all starstruck, the honor students were impressed by his smarts, and the girls?

They wanted him.

It was all too clear that he was the most recent, shiny new object, and more than a few of them didn't disguise how interested they were in getting into his pants or forming a relationship. It didn't surprise me, nor did it put me off interacting with him. How others reacted to Theo's arrival was typical behaviour for the teenagers at my school, and I didn't blame him for the predictable stupidity of everyone else. Instead, I tried my best to simply focus on the more relevant aspects of my school life.

Yet, it was like he just didn't care about any of that. For whatever reason, he only seemed interested in knowing me and my friends. Other people were acknowledged just as far as needed to get rid of them, then they were lightly brushed aside and ignored. It didn't make a lot of sense to me, and despite Lucy's insistence that it was because Theo wanted to 'tap your ass like it's going out of style', I didn't get that vibe from him. He was fascinating and a bit mysterious, but I was sure he genuinely did want to get to know us.

To get to know me, specifically.

It was a week and a half later that I first met up with him outside of class. We were halfway through the Wednesday lunch hour and I was sitting with Lucy and three other friends; Louis, Jonathan and Jessica. Jonathan was in the middle of explaining the technical merits and drawbacks between the rage virus and Kirkman's comic version, when he stopped in the middle of the sentence and looked past me. Lucy turned to see and her eyes lit up.

"Don't look now," she whispered, "but Prince Charming is about to arrive."

"Hope I'm not interrupting." Theo's voice came from close behind me, and he sat down in the empty space to my right, placing his books on the table. He flashed a smile to everyone. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"N-no," stuttered Jessica, so awestruck she might have been meeting Justin Bieber. "Um, you can sit here, if you want."

"Yeah dude!" Jonathan was overenthusiastic, his social cluelessness coming right to the front, voice awkwardly high-pitched and quick. "We don't mind. Of course you can!"

"Thanks." He glanced around our little group. "I don't think I've met most of you. I'm Theo."

The others said their names, all seeming shellshocked by his presence, their reactions awkwardly embarrassing. What the heck is that about? When it got to Lucy, she was all smiles, bold and carefree as always, the total opposite. If his presence was scaring the others, it didn't scratch her sense of confidence. "Lucy Atkinson." She held out her hand like a princess expecting a gentleman's greeting, grinning so widely I thought her face was about to split in half. "You can call me Lucy, or 'my lady'. Either is good. I'm his best friend."

Her took her hand, a coy smile, and then lowered his head and kissed her fingers ever so gently. "I'll remember that, my lady." She hummed her approval, and he turned to me. His tone dropped and became deeper and somehow more intimate. "Of course, I know who you are." His eyes drilled into me, like he was stripping away the layers of my soul just by sight and laying my innermost feelings bare. "There's no way I can forget."

His voice echoed through me, rippling off the walls of my consciousness, beckoning and suggesting. Dizzy, and for a moment confused, I tried to collect myself.

"Y-yeah." I forced a break in eye contact, even though, in truth, I didn't know if I wanted to.

It's happening again. Is he ... doing something to me?

Why am I feeling like this?

"Anyway." Theo turned to the group, the intensity vanishing, and he switched back to normal conversation. "What were you all talking about?"

"Um, the zombies from 28 Days Later. If- ... uh, if you've seen it?" Nervous, Jonathan was gabbling. "They're not really zombies. I mean, it doesn't kill people. It's just a virus like rabies or something, but way worse. Not lethal, but, um, not curable. I think it, uh ..."

He trailed off again, just like earlier, and in a repeat, Lucy turned to look at who was approaching this time. "Oh you have got to be fucking kidding." She practically hissed it, the anger showing. "I didn't think she was this stupid."

Taking a seat on the mostly-empty side of the table opposite Theo was Brittany, one of the resident Mean Girls of Mirrorvale. A pretty blonde who was obsessed with popularity and boys; she was a walking stereotype that was, sadly, all too common at our school. Rumour had it that she was recently single, and I didn't need to guess why she was here. I usually just avoided people from her end of the scale, preferring to mind my own business and stay out of theirs, but here she was, a bubbly whirlwind of lip gloss, mascara, short skirt and plunging neckline.

Lucy, however, wasn't big on avoidance.

"Brittany! I know how confusing 'left' and 'right' are, but you took a wrong turn." Lucy leaned across in front of me and gave a hand wave to a table packed with cheerleaders on the other side of the cafeteria's entrance. "See that? Just keep heading that direction until you hit the shoe-size IQs and plus-size egos. You'll fit right in."

"Oh, it's ... Lulu, right? Or was it Lacey?" Her eyelashes batted, and she giggled. "It doesn't matter, I'm not here to talk to you or your pet squad of losers and faggots." She looked over the rest of us; me, Jonathan, Jessica and Louis, dismissive and vaguely distasteful. "Seriously, eww. No, I'm here for Theo."

Of course she is.

I could almost hear Lucy clenching her fists and tensing next to me, but experience had taught me there was nothing I could say in these situations to stop her.

"Listen up, bitch." She leaned forward a bit more, exaggerating her size over the table, deadly tranquil and composed, though her tone had jumped a notch. "You've been given directions. So pick up that plastic ass and haul it back to your home on Whore Island."

"Theo, I'm Brittany," ignoring Lucy completely, she went on. "It's great to talk to you. We have French together, if you don't remember. Well, I'd love if you could come sit with us. I'll introduce my friends and their boys. Much more appropriate for someone like you than this table."

Lucy reached out and snapped her fingers in front of Brittany's face, interrupting the attempt at conversation. "Hey, Malibu Stacy! Did I fucking stutter? Or are you as deaf as you are brainless?"

Brittany grabbed her wrist, manicured nails digging into the skin. "This isn't your business, you crazy little psycho. Butt out."

"Let go of me," Lucy was ice-cold and didn't flinch, "and I will show you just how psycho I am."

"Ladies." Theo's intervention was smooth, calming. He separated their hands and carefully drew them apart. "Lucy, if you don't mind." She let him do it, and sat back down next to me. He didn't let go of Brittany, and turned to her, giving his full attention. I heard Lucy snort under her breath, irritated, but she didn't say anything else.

"I am flattered by your offer." He clasped her fingers in both hands, much like he had earlier when greeting Lucy, his thumbs brushing delicately over the skin. "You are a beautiful girl. I'm sure your friends are excellent company."

"You'll come with me then?" She was blushing, a bit breathless.

"No." He said it so softly I barely heard it. Then he leaned forward over the table and whispered in her ear. I couldn't make out the words, but it wasn't more than two sentences. She went pale, stood, and without saying another word, walked away to her table.

Through those seconds he was close to her, I felt something.

It was a pressure, a fuzziness, a distracting sensation that pulled at my mind and made it hard to think.

Hard to understand what was going on.

What IS that?

"Wow." Louis spoke up, finally. "What did you tell her? I've never seen her leave without getting her way."

Before anyone could answer, a teacher aide walked up to our table. "Please report to the office before your next class." He handed Lucy a yellow admin slip, and was then off again without another word.

"Fucking shit," she complained, glowering at the piece of paper. "What's that about? I haven't done anything this week. Best get going, I s'pose." She stood, grabbing her tray, and whacked me on the shoulder. "Text me after last bell, 'kay? See you guys later."

"Yeah, later."

Right on cue, the bell for the end of the lunch hour rang, five seconds later. The cafeteria immediately began to empty, the others at our table standing to follow with the crowd. Theo and I were last to get up, and I don't know what came over me, but I swallowed my apprehension and grabbed the situation full on. Left alone momentarily as everyone else exited, I gave Theo a light push to his left arm, demanding.

"What did you do to her?"

You didn't just 'say' something, you 'did' something, I'm positive.

"Brittany? I made sure she won't trouble any of you again." He didn't deny it, but he didn't explain himself either. Then, he flipped the encounter around, stepping very close, completely inside my personal space. My heartbeat soared, his left hand grabbing my right, and then his right came across and pulled the sleeve down before I could react. I was wearing a turtleneck style sweater to disguise the worst of the damage, and it took just one tug to reveal it all. "What happened to your wrist?"

"Nothing," I mumbled. "An accident."

"An accident?" His fingertips stroked across the marks, soft and fleeting, and I jerked my hand away, pulling the sleeve back in place. "What a strange accident."

"Yeah, well," I stepped back, putting some space between us. "A lot of strange things have been happening recently."

Bet you know something about it.

Theo smiled, that same weirdly hypnotic half-smile, and picked up his books from the table. "You better get moving. You'll be late."

"So will you."

He laughed and began to head toward the far cafeteria exit, his next class in the other direction from mine. "I'll make it. You'll text me later, too?"

"Maybe!"

"I hope so. Take care, Torsten," he called, glancing over the shoulder as he left, "and don't let anything bite."