After school, I'm eating lunch. This time, though, I'm doing so in the kitchen table with both Mom and Grandma Enedith, as opposed to every single day since we arrived here where I'd take my food to my room.

"Could you please instruct this beast on how to chew his goddamned food without making noise?"

"He's not even making any noise, Mom," she says before taking a bite of schnitzel. She even goes as far as reaching for my hand across the table. "Besides, I like my dear John eating lunch with us."

"You keep pampering him too much! That's why he's such a worthless brat."

"There's a reason why I'm eating with you today, Mom," I say, purposefully ignoring Grandma Enedith's retorts. "Some kids from school have mentioned an old factory, whatever that is, and I was wondering if you knew anything about it."

"Your Grandfather Albert, may his soul rest in peace, built this whole house working on that fine factory." Grandpa Albert is Grandma's weakness. She always cries whenever his name is as much as mentioned, and today is no exception. She continues regardless, her voice recovering from sad and jittery to angry again. "Until one day those wretched communists got one too many votes and they weren't quick enough to sell the land to those Chinese, apparently to build some mall or something like that."

Make no mistakes here: this is the longest Grandma has ever talked to me without blasting me with a barrage of insults.

"I heard thieves and the like roam the place now, so you're not allowed to go there."

Thieves? She might be talking about The Fist, whether she knows it or not.

"May I ask you where the factory is, just in case someone tries to drag me that way?" And just like that, I learn that this old factory is down the main road, not a mile away from home. Oh yeah, I'm not supposed to go there, am I? "I'm definitely avoiding that place no matter what."

Mom laughs. "You sound like Martin."

"That kid is a nightmare!" Grandma roars. "Even saying his name aloud is a bad omen!"

And yeah, this time she nailed it.

Two hours later I tell mom I'm going to Lyle's, but instead, you guessed it, I head straight for the factory. I bring the note in my pocket just in case. It might be some kind of ugly trap, maybe someone noticed me going to Newt's yesterday and I'm in trouble, but that's unlikely, otherwise Lyle would be in trouble too. Maybe Lyle himself got a note and he's being dealt with as I walk?

I shake those thoughts. It doesn't help to be dark and pessimistic about this, whatever this is. Instead, I focus on the road. As I reach the outskirts of town, the houses are sprinkled here and there, scattered with no apparent order. Mostly old manors surrounded by big extensions of lifeless lawn. Also, I can't help but notice that there's no sidewalk in the road, where occasional vehicles speed by.

Up ahead I can see the factory, looking completely abandoned, surrounded by tall weeds and trees that seem to sprout everywhere. Might be eucalyptus, but I'm not sure.

Once I'm there, though, the dark thoughts invade me again. This is a really good place to be murdered, not so much as a thieves hideout, mostly because the whole place looks busted. Every single window is broken, the front gates are destroyed, and there's no single wall that doesn't have layers over layers of graffiti. Even the place where should've been the main entrance shows no sign of ever having a door. But now that I'm here, I can't back away, can I? Although one thing's for sure: It sounds like a pretty smart idea right now.

Nonetheless, I step inside, carefully dodging the many beer bottles that litter the chipped flooring, entering a small reception room that leads to a narrow corridor leading to many small rooms that one day might have been used as offices, and beyond the corridor, yet another gate leading to a huge empty space. I take my surroundings in before stepping inside.

The first thing I notice is the amount of dust in the air, lit up by the sunlight coming through the small windows on the opposite wall. It gives the place an even more eerie look, but then I notice that the same dust is covering the floor, and sure enough, I see small footprints leading to a corner on the far right. It being pretty much the only set of footprints I see, I guess I can count Rude out of the possibilities, which lets me breathe a little more comfortably. I follow the trail slowly, which leads to yet another small room, this one having a table and a few usable chairs, all of it looking dusted off. I step inside once again, inspecting the place, not sure what I'm looking for, when the door I just crossed sweeps shut, making me jump in place, adrenaline rushing to my limbs to face whatever danger, already sporting combat position from karate.

"So you're really dumb enough to come here."

The owner of the footprints isn't other but Scarborough. I draw a few deep breaths to calm down the impulse to rush this girl and break her tiny nose.

"You scared the freak out of me."

"I know," she replies coldly, not a hint of amusement in her features. She adjusts a black baseball cap on her head before shoving her hands in her hoodie, quite a poor wardrobe choice considering we still have over two weeks to go until autumn. "Take a seat."

"I'm okay, thanks."

"I didn't ask. Sit down." Her bossy attitude is paired with a gesture towards the closest chair. So what else can I do? I pick the chair and sit down, crossing my legs.

"So, I guess this isn't a friendly meeting, is it?" I meet her right eye, the one that isn't curtained by her hair. Not unlike yesterday, when Zeus made me sit in her table, she doesn't look one bit amused.

"I'm afraid it's not."

"That's too bad. I was starting to wonder about the silent girl from classroom four, you know."

"And that's exactly why I wanted to see you here. That nosy attitude is going to get us both in trouble, and I'm okay with my share as is." She leans against the door behind her, blocking my only way out.

Let's just throw her off-balance. "Does this have anything to do with you being an Outcast?" As I expected, she looks bewildered. But then her half-face morphs into anger.

"And knowing about it you're still looking at me like you mean to fix my life and become my bestie or some dung?"

It's my turn to look bewildered. Was I that obvious? I rub my eyes before answering with a curt nod. Then I elaborate. "As you guessed, I'm bound to get in trouble anyway, and though I had a very good insight on what's happening if I become an Outcast, I still feel sympathy for the lot of you."

"I'm not the least interested in your pathetic sympathy." Damn her unyielding attitude. "You don't know what I had to endure with those idiots, nor anyone seems to know either how it all ended."

"I'm not one of them, you know?"

"And I'd very much prefer you to be one of them."

What the fuck? Is she for real? "I can't fathom why you would prefer having another bully in town instead of a friend."

"Because a new idiot making fun of me is manageable, while having the usual crew bully me out of existence because that idiot is a nosy motherfucker is a completely different prospect."

"All right." I stand up and start pacing the room. "Let's assume I pay no heed to your fair warning."

Then she's the one pacing the room, or rather, walking up to me, and in a swift move, she shoves me against the nearest wall, pinning my neck down with her forearm, and I can notice something sharp pressed a bit too tight against my belly.

"You guessed right, asshole. That's a knife." She's so close I can feel her minty breath on my face, and she's now grinning at me like a psycho. "Although this is just a fair warning, just know this: You wouldn't be the first person I stab. Please mind your own business from now on, so I don't have to mince your remains to feed the dogs, deal?"

All right, she's downright scary as fuck. And even scarier is that she has me where she wants, and even if she decides to stab me to death, I wonder how long it's going to take for someone else to find me in this wasteland.

She has the upper hand, and she probably planned it all to go this way.

Except she doesn't know that in all the years I practiced martial arts, I learned damn well how to deal with knives. To top it off, I'm stronger than she is, so it happens in a flash. I grab her arm, twisting it up behind her back, and soon enough she's the one pinned to the wall, screaming in pain and forced to drop her weapon. I kick her knife out of reach before letting her go, and she stumbles to the chair I was using earlier, holding her arm. We're both silent for a while, and though she's trying her best to conceal it, she starts to cry.

"I'm sorry, Scarborough." I pick up her knife, and send it flying out the window and out of sight. "That was... unexpected."

"Just go. Do whatever you want. Go to the police station; tell them the crazy chick with the scar tried to kill you. I don't care."

I pick up the other chair and sit a few feet away from her. "I heard they don't do much anyway," I tell her, trying to light up the mood a bit. "Besides, I'm not hurt."

She holds my gaze for a second before hiding behind her hair curtain. "Why are you still here anyway?"

"I should probably get the hell away from you, right? I mean, I'm not the first you attack with a knife, am I?"

"Yeah, you should. There's still plenty of debris I could use to beat the crap out of you."

"Well, to be fair, that didn't go all that well, considering you also had the surprise factor and shit." I try a smile, but she's not looking at me. She's still holding her arm, now a bit tighter. Her tears fall in rapid-fire on her black leggings. "Look, I suppose you only wanted to scare me away, and you kinda managed to do so."

"Doesn't really look like you're too afraid of me."

"I am, trust me, but that's not the only thing that I feel for you." I shift in my chair, trying to find her right eye, but there's no use. "I'm wondering right now what kind of background you have that makes you want to scare people out of your life with a motherfucking knife."

"If you ask around, people will tell you how crazy I am." Her eye finally meets my own. Crying made it look redder, which accents the light green iris. "In case the whole dung with the knife wasn't enlightening enough."

"You know, it's okay for you to say you're sorry about that. You might think I'm a naïve imbecile, but I'm quite the understanding guy."

"If this is how you're going to make fun of me, it's kind of bland."

"That's the thing, I'm not going to make fun of you. I'm not telling anyone about today either. I might even be benevolent enough to heed your words and stay the hell away from you and all."

"Huh. You sure will."

"I might. On one condition, though."

"What do you want?"

"Let me see your face."

"Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen, pal."

"Come on, you owe me that at least."

"I don't owe you a damn thing, bitch!"

"Sure you don't, after luring me here and almost stabbing the life out of me."

"Ugh." I got her there, obviously. "Okay, I'll do it, but then you owe me."

"Just humor me."

At first she hesitates, but then she looks away, her already concealed side out of my sight, and her hand motions, taking her hair out of the way. I can't really deal with the anticipation, but I try my best to keep my cool. Then she slowly takes her cap, leaving it on the table before turning around to let me see her.

So this is what she meant by "crazy chick with the scar". That's what she was concealing: a big, angry scar that snakes all the way from her brow to her chin. I don't know how it happened, but it doesn't look like it was an accident.

"Stare much?"

I glance down at her feet, but I can see that she's fixing her hair over her face again. I wonder what I should tell her now. I feel like I breached into something very private, no different from entering the bathroom while she showers or something. She's the one to break the now reigning silence.

"Quite ugly, I know. That's why I keep it hidden."

Actually, it's kind of hot, but I can't find it in me to tell her that much. Hell, it's kind of a miracle that I'm talking to a girl to begin with.

"I'm not saying you should brag about it, but it looks kind of cool."

She throws me the first thing at hand: her cap. "Kind of cool? Are you stupid, or you're just trying to get your ass kicked?"

"I mean, I don't know how you got the scar, but since you already have it, you should make the best out of it. And without some stupid or sad story behind it, it's badass."

"The best out of it? Are you listening to yourself? Is this you trying too hard to say something nice? You might as well keep your mouth shut."

"Well, you obviously know something I don't," I say, trying on her cap.

"Something you'll never know," she says, jumping out of her chair and snatching her hat. "Now that you got your whim, can you please promise you'll stay away from me?"

"Actually, fuck that." I smile my best smile at her, leaning forward in my chair.

"What!? We had a deal!"

"I never agreed to anything." I change my smile for a bored expression. "So fuck the Outcast, and Rude, and Amanda, and fuck the police, and The effing Fist, and this stupid town, school included."

She takes a second to assimilate what I just said, but she doesn't look particularly impressed by my foolhardy display of bravery.

"Look, I normally wouldn't care if you throw yourself to the wolves." She scratches her nose before crossing her arms. "But the thing you're too stupid to get, is that trying to mess up with me will bring a new wave of bullshit to my life, and to be fair, I'll just get you in trouble first, since you're so ready to fuck everything."

"If that's all that scares you, we can keep it a secret and that would be pretty much it."

"Uh-huh. And then you'll use that same naivety of yours and befriend Rude and his ugly sister, and we'll all be friends and go for pizza on Saturday nights, is that it?"

"No, but I might know a cool place to get pizza that I could bring anywhere you like. Even to your super cozy crib here."

"Dude, seriously. You don't get the message, do you?"

"I'm well known in Celadon Bay for being quite a dense motherfucker."

"I can see that!" she barks back. Then she rubs her eyes, already tired of fighting me. A few sighs later, she locks her eye with mine. "You have been warned. I don't care anymore what you do. But if you get me in trouble with Rude's crowd, I'll go full rogue on you and I won't hesitate to make you pay for it. Understood?"

"I can live with that," I reply to her back as she exits the room, leaving me alone in the creepy old factory.