The next morning, I'm bound to suffer through Celebrity Time round two. Again, it's Amanda who approaches me the second I'm through the front door. This time, though, only a few people follow her. She looks around at her cohort, and I see some of them flinch and move away with no need for a single word.

So this is the power of Princess Amanda and her thick-headed brother.

"Good morning, John Foster."

I try to adopt as best as I can a style more worthy of my cousin Martin. "Good morning, Amanda Riggs."

"You remember my full name! I'm so glad."

"You're really hard to forget," I tease, somehow managing to make it sound like a good thing. Whatever to earn this girl's favor and stay out of trouble, I guess.

"Well, now. Aren't you sweet?"

"It has been said." I manage a smile, even when the only one who called me sweet was Vee, but I guess she saw through the ruse. She's giving me that look that tells me she's trying to figure me out.

"You're a mysterious one, aren't you?" I feel the scrutiny in her eyes, but there's something else there, something I realize I've seen many times in so many girls around my cousin. This girl likes me.

"John, come check this out!" We turn around and find Lyle on the other side of the patio waving his cellphone. That's my cue.

"Sorry, Amanda. I guess I'll see you later?" And I rush my way to Lyle, who quickly mimics showing me something on his screen. "I owe you, man."

"Damn right you do. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I got ambushed, though."

"This is a social experiment," he explains, as if this statement makes a lot of sense.

"What kind?"

"I need to find out if my presence alone is enough to deter her from approaching you."

"Dude, wouldn't that make me look even better?"

"Because you hang with the cool guy aka me?"

"I mean, I'm the one with the looks. Hanging up with you will enhance the gap between us."

He gives me an irritated look. "You don't undersell yourself, that's for sure."

So this is what Martin felt when he made fun of me. Interesting feeling, I must say.

"I mean, I can if it makes you feel better."

I almost expect him to retort, but he goes back to business.

"No matter what, stay with me today."

"Okay, deal."

A tall kid on the chubby side approaches us, and Lyle greets him with the crazy handshake he did yesterday with Newt.

"Sup, Potato?"

"Sup, Lyle. Newbie."

"Potato?"

"Don't mind this douche," Potato tells me. "He calls me that because I like the cafeteria fries. I'm Terry."

"John."

"Yeah, everyone knows your name by now."

"You still called me newbie, though."

"Did I?" he asks, as if he didn't realize.

"John's gonna share tables with us today," Lyle explains to him.

"Oh? So you're finally one of the cool guys?"

"I don't know you, but Lyle is everything but cool."

"Hey! Cut it out already!"

"Geez. See? He can't keep his cool at all."

"You're so dense, Newbie."

"I like him already." Potato gives Lyle a smirk, and then they entwine themselves in a friendly fist brawl, only interrupted by Ms. Higgins bell. Once in the classroom, I follow Lyle to their table. It's Ms. Higgins herself who enters the room once we're all inside.

"Good morning, people."

"Uh-oh." This comes from Potato, who's sitting right next to me. "Don't let her looks deceive you, she's a monster."

"What? I met her yesterday and she seemed nice."

"It's a fluke, I tell you."

"Dude, she saved me from Zeus yesterday."

"Zeus?"

"Long story," I tell him, remembering that he doesn't know that's how I call Mr. Sunderland.

"Everything okay there, Mr. Foster?"

I raise my head like I have springs in my neck. "Absolutely, Ms. Higgins."

"Okay. I hope you guys can catch up on whatever you're talking about after class?"

"Absolutely. Sorry for disturbing the class."

"Huh. So polite, Newbie," Someone to my right says, and when I look that way I can't catch who did it. Instead, I catch a glimpse of Scarborough as she avoids my gaze. The curtain of hair covering half her face is there today as well, allowing me to see only the tip of her nose.

I don't know if it's just me missing Veronica too much, or if there's really an uncanny resemblance despite some minor details.

----

"You know, Newbie?" Potato is doing what gave him his nickname: eating French fries from a paper cone at nine fifteen in the morning. We're sitting in the wooden sidewalk that borders the classrooms, overlooking the patio. "One would say you have the hots for Scarborough."

"You know what, Potato? It would be nice if people remembered I have a name," I snap back, both because I have point and because I don't want to talk about this girl, which, fairly enough, drew my attention for the whole first two periods.

"I hear ya." He picks a bunch of fries and shoves them into his mouth. "Likewise, though."

"He has a point, though," Lyle tells me. "And you don't want to be interested in her either way."

"She looks like someone I know, that's all."

"Sure, sure." He rolls his eyes. "We talked about this, and you're just doing whatever you want. You're going to get us all in trouble." This perks Potato's interest, although he doesn't stop shoveling food. Lyle lowers his voice. "I told him about Newton."

Potato approves with a nod. It doesn't escape my ear how he said he told me about him instead of saying we visited him. Poor Newt. Even his only friend needs to deny him.

Then I catch Potato looking behind me, and he shrinks in his chair, looking away and going as far as to stop munching. When I look behind, a tall, muscular guy with spiky black hair is coming our way. If his golden skin is any indication, this guy likes to spend time outdoors. I know who he is before anyone introduces him.

"So I finally get to know the new kid."

I expected him to sound more like a douche, but he actually sounds nice and friendly. I stand up, finding out what I already expected: he's like nine feet tall. I offer him a handshake.

"John Foster."

"I know your name, kid." He takes my hand and squeezes hard enough to pulverize bricks, or choke a lion. The trademark of a show-off. "I know everyone's name around here."

I can't decide if I should mention that I know him already. If he asks who told me, I might end up selling someone. That someone being Lyle, I take no chances. "Mind if I ask your name?"

"What?! Didn't Potato tell you who owns his greasy ass around here yet?" He probably noticed he was eating fries, and his disgust is evident. "You really like that dung, don't you? That's why you look like a damned whoopee cushion."

I have two options here. I either let him annoy the hell out of me, or I play a practical joke to light up the mood and possibly get beaten to a pulp in the process. And yeah, letting him annoy me isn't an option. "Okay, that's rude."

Needless to say, all three of them look at me, two of them in horrified awe.

"Well, what do you know? You're right!" he laughs, forgetting Potato for the time being and focusing again on me. "Rude Riggs. That's the name."

"Is Rude your actual name?"

"Yup, you got that right."

Wait, does he think I actually guessed his name? If so, the guy is denser than I am.

"Hold it. Riggs? Same Riggs as Amanda from my class?" I play dumb to level up the terrain.

"What's your business with my sister?" He doesn't look amused, but I was expecting it.

"She was the one who welcomed me yesterday. Quite a friendly girl."

"Friendly, but otherwise, off-limits. You hear me, Newbie?" He pokes my chest with a finger, except it feels like he's actually boring holes in me.

"No worries, man."

"You look like nice folk." There goes Ms. Higgins' bell, interrupting his speech. "Stay out of trouble, and who knows? We might even be friends. I'll be watching, though." He points at both his eyes and then at me as he leaves, in the most cliché move in the history of humanity. As soon as Rude is out of sight, Lyle joins me.

"You're such a sweet talker, man."

"Gee, I'll take that as a compliment."

"Or maybe you're just full of dung."

"You're just jealous," I tease him. "That's really cute, though."

"Shut up."

"What about you, Potato? You okay, bud?"

He gobbles the last of his fries before answering. "No, I'm out of fries."

"He might need a change of pants, though," Lyle adds, and we laugh our way to our classroom. We make it to our seats, another teacher files in, and as soon as I'm opening my notebook to take notes, I see a piece of paper neatly folded inside. I scan the room looking for someone who looks particularly guilty of leaving something in my notebook, but nobody does.

I consider showing it to Lyle, but something tells me that whoever left the note, didn't want other people to know about it, so I unfold it carefully under the table.

Old factory. 4 pm. Come alone.

See? Come alone. I was right.

This makes things far worse, though, because now it could be literally anyone. In order, ranging from worst to best, my new friend Rude, some jealous lackey, Amanda, it could even be Lyle testing me out. Literally anyone could have left the note here. Hell, it might even be a ruse, or a practical joke to see if I go to this old factory at all, which let me tell you, I don't know where it is.

But something stands true for the whole town of Maple Heights: no matter where you want to go, it's bound to be nearby.