Guardian (The Guardian Trilogy) by Sara Mack

to Shel.  “Besides, I’m driving.”
    “I
think you’ll be okay,” she yells across the table.  “I know you won’t finish it
and besides, we’re supposed to be celebrating!”
    I take
a drink, and it does taste good.  We turn our attention to the band and the
dance floor.  I have to admit that people watching is one of my favorite
activities.
    Eventually
we order.  When our food arrives, my chef salad is monstrous.  As I’m cramming
another bite into my mouth – why can’t they ever cut the lettuce in small
pieces? – I hear a male voice, “Well look at what the cat dragged in!”
    I look
up just as Shel is jumping out of her seat to hug some big guy.  He wraps his
arms around her.  What the heck?
    She
steps back from him, excited.  “When did you get into town?  What are you doing
here?”
    “Last
night, actually.  My buddy plays guitar,” he nods toward the band.  Then he
seems to notice me.  With a soft expression he yells over the music, “Hey Em. 
How’ve you been?”
    Who is
this person?  How does he know me?  I stare at him stupidly.
    “Emma!”
Shel scolds me.  “Say hello to Matt!”
    Matt? 
Holy crap, I wouldn’t have recognized him in a million years.  He still sports
his textured blonde hairstyle, but he’s bigger than I remember.  More
muscular.  I smile, embarrassed.  “I’m sorry!” I yell.  “I so did not recognize
you!”  I stand up, and he gives me an awkward hug.
    He
smiles and looks around.  “Listen, I’ll be come back when the band breaks.  I
can hardly hear!”
    “Okay!”
    Matt
waves and makes his way to the restroom.
    “I
didn’t think he was coming home until next month,” Shel says between bites.
    I try
to remember the last time I saw Matt.  An image springs to mind of him stopping
by James’ house the summer after high school while we were washing the Jeep.  I
smile as I remember trying to stay out of the water fight that ensued only to
end up drenched anyway.  Wow, that was two years ago.
    After
we finish our dinner, the band takes a break.  A DJ fills the silence, but he’s
nowhere near as loud.  Matt reappears, pulls a chair over from another table,
and takes a seat.  He’s tall, over six foot, and his knees bump the bottom of
the tabletop when he sits.  I chastise myself for wondering if he’s on
steroids.  The last time I saw him he was still wiry Matt; he played baseball
in high school.  Now, his white Old Navy ringer tee barely stretches across his
chest.
    “So,”
he looks at our drinks.  “What can I get you ladies?”
    “Oh,
nothing for me, thanks,” I say.
    “Another
daiquiri, please,” Shel requests.
    Matt
calls a nearby waitress over and orders the daiquiri and a beer.  Turning his
attention back to us he asks, “What brings you guys out?”
    “We’re
celebrating,” Shel looks at me.  “We are officially employees at Bay Woods
starting Monday.”
    “That’s
a nice course,” Matt comments.  “I golf out there quite a bit, when I’m home.”
    Shel
and Matt delve into conversation, as if they see each other every day.  I
basically observe and nod once in a while.
    Someone
taps me on my shoulder.  I turn and come face to face with some random stranger
with greasy hair and bad skin.  His rancid beer breath is right in my face.  I
lean away from him.
    “You
wanna dance?” the guy slurs.
    Dear
God, no.  “Um.  N–no thanks,” I say politely and turn back around.
    “Wahs
your problem?” he peers around my shoulder.  “Yous think you’re too good or
somethin’?”  He grabs my arm.
    “Hey!” 
My skin crawls where he touches me.  I try to pull away and lean back at the
same time.
    Matt
stands abruptly, knocking his chair over.  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,”
he growls and takes a step forward.
    Drunk
guy lets go of my arm.  “What’s it to you?” he says angrily and stands up
tall.  With the two of them facing off like this, it’s clear that Matt has