The next day, after lunch, everything is ready to proceed at the Newton's household. I message Lyle to wait for me outside and walk with me to Newt's, but not telling him what's going on.

"You'll have to wait and see," I tell him when he asks for the hundredth time. "You won't believe a word I say if you don't see it first-hand."

"Man, why do you have to be so cryptic?"

"Again, you won't believe it."

"Then let me just hear it!" he says, throwing his arms in the air. "What's the difference if I won't believe it anyway?"

"Exactly my point. What's the difference if you won't believe a word regardless?"

Lyle sighs in defeat. "Do you think Newt will allow Corrine to visit at some point?"

"Corrine? Do you want to set them up or something?"

"Well, not exactly."

"Also, what's up with Corrine? Why's she suddenly in our table now?"

"You've been away for too long. And Potato is no longer a respectable member of society in my eyes," he sort of explains, not really answering my question, then he adds, "So Corrine volunteered to fill my social quota in your absence, which I didn't hate."

"Wait a minute..." I say, turning to him, noticing he's trying way too hard to keep a straight face. "Are YOU dating Corrine?"

"Gosh, John, of course not..." he harrumphs and, to my surprise, genuinely blushing.

"You sly dog!"

"It's not like that!"

"I'm sure it's not," I say sarcastically.

"It's not," he assures me, now pink all the way to the ears. "We're just... getting to know each other is all."

I nod in approval, nudging him lightly with my elbow. "Good for you, man. I hope it works well for the two of you."

"Geez. You don't have to look so proud."

"I mean it, though," I say, and we walk around the corner, almost reaching Newt's house. As planned, Eugene's pickup truck is parked outside. "It is a good thing if you two are okay with it. I'm sure Newt will be delighted, too."

"I don't know about that."

"Let's just try. If he doesn't want, then he doesn't want."

Except, if things go according to plan, there will be no need for all the secrecy anymore.

Eugene and two more people from the ranch get out of the truck and start unloading painting supplies from the back. Being this close, Lyle finally recognizes our literature teacher.

"Is that...?"

"Mr. Sunderland, yes."

"What's going on? Who are those guys with him?"

"It's part of the surprise. A tiny one."

Lyle actually shuts his mouth after that, and the two of us meet up with Eugene and the rest. I recognize Ralph from yesterday, and I remember the other guy's face even if I never heard his name.

"John. I'm glad you made it," Eugene greets me, and I lift a fist, which all three of them bump. "Mr. Ackerman. What a pleasant surprise."

"I'm conflicted here," Lyle says, and turns to me. "I believe I just saw you BUMPING FISTS with MISTER SUNDERLAND."

"I mean, I did mention you wouldn't believe it."

"You're welcome to try it, too," Eugene chips in, offering the same gesture to Lyle with a smile.

"AND HE SMILES, TOO?!"

"Lyle, don't embarrass me, man," I joke, gently nudging him with my shoulder.

"But, John!"

I roll my eyes and decide to ignore him. "What's the plan?"

"I'll go talk with Mrs. Newton while Ralph and Dave get rid of the graffiti," Eugene explains. "You'll be moral support when we talk to Charles."

"I'll help with the painting meanwhile," I volunteer, but Eugene cuts me off.

"Not while your wounds are still healing," he says, showing a sliver of his usual grave tone. "I know you're itchy to help, but for now you'll have to stick to the plan." Then he turns to Lyle and smiles. "Maybe Mr. Ackerman here wants to lend a hand, too?"

Lyle looks at the group of farmers in confusion and then at me, pinching his brows together. "I don't know what's going on here, but if it's something to help the Newtons, I'm game."

"Much appreciated, Mr. Ackerman," Eugene says, giving Lyle a soft pat in the shoulder. "I'll go talk to Mrs. Newton first. I'll give you a signal."

And then Eugene walks to the front door and rings the bell. Mrs. Newton opens the door the same way as always, just a little to peek outside. I wonder how she will react when she learns that those days are now over.

"So, what's the deal?" Lyle asks, and turns to Ralph and Dave. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Would you believe it if I told you that Mr. Sunderland is the leader of The Fist?"

"Well, no," Lyle replies, scratching his head. "But quite a few unbelievable things are happening lately, so I don't even know anymore."

"Don't allow the actions of a few dictate your judgement, boy," Ralph chips in. "We Fists are not monsters. We're actually trying to do the right thing."

"Wait, are you really part of The Fist?"

"The part you never heard about, at least," Ralph replies with a reassuring smile.

"Did you just bring The fucking Fist to Newt's house?" Lyle demands, now angry at me.

"I suggest you watch your mouth if you appreciate having a tongue, kiddo," Dave interrupts in a tone that remarkably matches that of Mr. Sunderland. This makes Lyle flinch a little. "We're here to right wrongs, not to harass this family."

Lyle frowns, but he does appreciate his tongue enough to remain silent. We all turn to Mr. Sunderland and Mrs. Newton.

"Not everything is black or white, Lyle," I say. He sighs, relaxing a bit. "Give them a chance to prove you wrong, okay?"

After a while, Eugene calls us, and all four of us join them at the door. That's when Mrs. Newton realizes Lyle and I are also here, and she gives us a warm smile.

"Our friends here will proceed with the repairs, if you don't mind," Eugene explains to her. "I'm sure you're familiar with the younger faces."

"I certainly am," she replies, suddenly showing concern as her glance rests in my still black eye and the cast in my hand. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing much," I say with a smile. "I'll be fine."

"He had a fist fight with a bully, that's what happened." The unmistakable gruff in Newt's voice shows no contempt as his matted hair pokes outside the door. "What's going on here? What's this all about?"

Eugene is the one to reply. "Mr. Newton, such excellent timing. We wanted to have a word with you, if you don't mind."

Newt looks at me for a sign, and I just nod silently, so he looks at his mother, who gives him a happy smile.

"Let's not be in the doorway," Mrs. Newton says, opening the door wide. "We can talk inside."

All of us enter the house excepting Ralph and Dave, who start with the painting instead. We all sit at the kitchen table. It takes Eugene a while to explain the whole situation to Newt, who listens carefully without interrupting (I'm willing to bet this was hard-drilled in the classroom last year, before he got bullied out). Newt's ever-present frown clearly says he's not entirely buying the whole "Fists-gone-farmers" situation, but his eyes are restless as he absorbs the information, and I bet he's weighing down the possibilities. In the end, Eugene makes the one question that brings a spark to Newt's face.

"Would you like to go back to school, Charles?"

"It's almost time for mid-terms," Newt replies coldly. Meaning he's considering it. I smile proudly, exchanging a glance with Lyle.

"Meaning there's no time to waste," Eugene finishes. "Are you in?"

"We'll help you study, of course," I tell him, this being the first thing I say since we walked inside. "I'm sure Lyle could use our help with that, too."

"So full of dung, I tell you..."

"And I bet Corrine will also be willing to give us a hand."

"Corrine Bates?" Eugene asks. "She'd be a huge asset. An exceedingly smart student."

"I didn't say yes, you know," Newt interrupts, definitely trying to cling to his usual skepticism.

"Charles..." Mrs. Newton scolds, and he sighs in defeat.

"I need a haircut," he says, finally conceding.

Eugene's phone starts ringing in his pocket, and he apologizes for a second to answer it, walking outside.

Lyle and I stand up to follow him, but Newt stops me. I turn around to face him, and I see he's fidgeting as he chooses his words.

"I'm not sure how this all became a thing," he starts. "But I know none of it would be happening if you didn't fight Rude last week."

"It was all a very happy coincidence," I tell him. "I really thought I'd be screwed over for the rest of my life after fighting Rude. But I found a huge ally in doing it," I complete, turning my gaze to Eugene.

"Maybe. But still, you were the one who got the snowball rolling. And for that, I want to thank you."

"You should have seen his moves, man," Lyle says, putting an arm around Newt's shoulders. "He went friggin' Bruce Lee on Rude. It was like watching a goddamned movie."

"Charles," Eugene calls, pocketing his phone. "Come outside, please."

All three of us inch our way out, followed by Mrs. Newton. The amount of people in the street multiplied. I recognize a lot of faces from yesterday, escorting a few new ones, one of them being one of Rude's cronies from classroom six. Newt clings to my shirt, and a glance is all it takes to notice he's gone pale. I immediately realize these are Newt's bullies, so I give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as I walk one step in front of him.

"Sunderland," one of the new faces says, finally breaking the silence. His green eyes register nothing but hatred as they scan his surroundings. "Why did you drag us here?"

"You have lost all codes," Eugene replies in his usual classroom voice. It doesn't seem to have the same effect on these people, even though they're also surrounded by people from the ranch. "We agreed to keep activities outside Maple Heights, and yet here we are, with an entire household under your foot. You even went as far as to bully an underage boy."

"That was when we still had a leader, Sunderland," the other guy says, unflinching. "You don't get to boss us around like you do with your fake-ass farmers."

"You don't seem to grasp how dire your situation is, Allen," Zeus says, summoning a thunderstorm in the neighborhood. I seriously wonder how this Allen dude isn't wetting his pants yet. That doesn't seem to be the case for the guy from classroom six, however, who takes a tentative step backwards, only to be stopped by Ajax. He does look ready to faint when their eyes meet. "We might be farmers now, but we still abide by the old rules. And so will you, if you want to stay in town, unless you want to fight us all for leadership."

"Please say you'll fight," Ajax challenges, giving Allen a smug smile. "I'll go first."

"Will you really go that far for that kid and the woman?" Allen argues.

"You really don't get it, do you?" Ralph replies, rolling his eyes. "We finally are reaping the benefits of doing things right. Almost all of us now understand that this isn't a place we should rule over, but a place we want to protect for everyone. But you're still stubbornly loyal to Lazarus, even though he abandoned ship and was never seen again when Gene took him down. Meanwhile Gene gave us a purpose, and the opportunity to turn a new leaf. Will it really kill you to give us a chance? We will prove you wrong, Allen."

"And become a stupid farmer like you? You don't realize how pathetic you look preaching the values of hard work and morality when you're very much a bunch of low-life criminals, pillagers, dealers and murderers, just like me."

"I find it hard to believe that you take any pride in calling yourself all that," I reply, surprising even myself. Pushover John is out of town and shows no signs of returning. "Furthermore, I can't even fathom what kind of petty excuse you have to justify bullying this family, following the whims of a troubled underage boy. You clearly need to get a grip."

"Shut up, punk. Don't talk like you know me. Don't go believing you're some big dung just because you sent Rude to the hospital," Allen says, pointing a menacing finger at me.

"I am aware of your situation, Allen," Eugene says, reclaiming Allen's attention.

"Save it. You know nothing about me, old man!"

"You're about to lose your home," Eugene continues, ignoring him. "I'm also aware of your wife's condition. She's been diagnosed with ataxia, correct?"

Allen flinches at that, letting us know it's actually true. Not that I know what ataxia is, but I bet it's not a flu.

"I know her treatment includes expensive medication and physical therapy that you currently can't afford."

"Like sowing potatoes will make it any easier, right?"

"Easier than bullying the neighbors, at the very least," Eugene replies, now coldly. "We can support you financially, Allen. We can help each other."

"Or we can fight, too," Ajax says, causing a few of his friends to chuckle. "Come on, big guy. Bring it."

"Shut up, Ajax," Allen hisses, and turns back to Eugene. "Is that all you have to say, Sunderland?"

"Just know that this household is now under our protection," Eugene replies, electrifying the air. "You know what to expect if any harm comes to it, or the people living in it."

"I have no interest in these people, Sunderland," Allen replies, waving his hand in the air and dismissing the whole conversation. "And you can shove your fancy farmer gig up your ass."

"The offer still stands if you want to take it, Allen."

With that, he turns on his heels and leaves the place, dragging Rude's crony by the shirt.

Eugene turns to Newt. "It's over now, Charles. They won't harm you anymore."

Newt holds his gaze intently for a second, then turns his eyes to the ground, deep in thought. Eugene gives him a gentle pat on the head, and walks to his truck. A few seconds later, he comes back holding a big shopping bag. I recognize the bookstore logo close to Dad's restaurant. He gives the bag to Newt.

"What's this?"

"Your textbooks for the year. A personal gift from me," Eugene replies, suddenly transforming into Mr. Sunderland the teacher. "I want a report on Don Quixote on my desk by Monday. Five pages minimum. Is this clear, Mr. Newton?"

"Yes, sir."

"Show's over, people. This house isn't going to paint itself," he orders, clapping his hands until everyone is on the move. "We're wasting daylight! Come on, move!"

Seriously. No wonder everyone calls him 'boss'.

"Wait," Lyle says, interrupting my thoughts. "Does this mean the Outcast are no longer a thing?"

"At least for our pal here," I reply, nudging Newt with my shoulder.

"I wonder if that also includes your chick. Not that I care."

Scar. This story would have a happily ever after right now if she answered my calls. I pull out my phone and call her again, just to be sure, but as expected, it goes straight to voice mail.

She leaves me with no choice but to pay her a visit.