Diane really didn’t care for gossip.  But the whole point of attending a public mainstream school was to not lose touch with real people.  And that was probably the most attractive thing about Samantha.  She was a regular girl - well, if you didn’t count the whole occult club thing.  That was exactly typical.  But it was those very atypical facts about a person that made them interesting.

Diane ignored Ash’s brief rant, though the words about rich kid stung.  But that was a subject for a later conversation.  Instead she concentrated on Ash’s concerns.  “If I decide to write anything that relates to the group or might sound like you, or isn’t something I can attribute to a zillion other wiccans or get from some online sources, it will get an editor’s review by you.  I just …

Diane frowned.  “I am starting a Writing Club.  It will have a discord sponsored by Heather Daniels.”  Heather Daniels was quite possibly the next JK Rowling.  The first book of her trilogy  was, according to sources, being made into a movie.  It was about some invasion of a Middle Earth type realm into Victorian Earth.  The second book was out and already a best seller.  It wasn’t her first trilogy.  She had written another, but it hadn’t been as popular.  “I like the stuff I write to have some authenticity.”

“You know, I’m not a member of your group.  Only way to check someone out is to get to know them.  Besides, I recognize him.  He’s on a sort of hit list by the popular kids.  But the feeling I get is that they are only telling one side of the story.  I’ll be right back - probably.  I am going to make the mistake of feeding the stray.  I don’t know why Mom packs so much of this stuff in my lunch.  Oh, where was that meeting?  After school … right?”  She scribbled the room number down.

[color=92278f][b]Boudin[/b][/color]
http://www.louisianaseafoodco.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/boudin-smoked-sausage-e1451772359421-400x244_c.jpg

Mom seemed to think she she needed way more food than she did.  Just one of the boudin would have made a meal.  And she had already had chicken gumbo and salvage yard salad.  No telling what was in that.  She walked over with the rubbermaid container half stuffed with boudin.  Two of the giant things.  Diane had broken off half of one for herself.  They WERE good after all.  She plopped down right in front of Troy.

“Hi.  I don’t dare leave my laptop unattended for more than a few seconds, but I saw you working earlier and figured you might like what’s left of the boudin my Mom made.  It’s sort of like Popeye’s Cajun rice stuffed in a sausage casing, but way better.  The only downside is that people are jerks and if they watch you eat it, their minds go straight to the gutter.  You might want to use a fork.  She handed over a plastic one.

“Nice wrap by the way.  Smokey quartz?  I do some amateur wraps myself.  Never wear them.  Used to sell them at a flea market.  Wiccan, or just a style thing?”  She smiled and stood up.  “Well, gotta get back to my laptop - before someone decides to spill garbage on it or throw a football at it.”  She gave a nervous smile and stepped away.  “Bon appetit.”

Diane realized she had been starting to fight a cold sweat.  She hadn’t really spoken to a guy like that in over a year.  Well, she had spoken to grown men - marines.  And there had been some of the people she had met in Europe.  But …  She knew that Troy looked imposing.  He was 6’5” and she got that many might have thought he could be some angry axe murderer.  She saw … a big, scruffy, stray dog - who needed feeding.