“What’re we doing in the middle of the woods?” I ask.

As if in response, the door slams shut and the bus roars as it starts to move back down the road.

“We’re being stranded,” says the boy with the horrible dead eyes.

“Why are we being stranded in the middle of the woods?” I ask him.

“They’re testing us, I think,” says Mark. “See what we do when we crack.”

“Some of us are already pre-cracked,” says Deadeyes, looking right at me.

Devon rolls his eyes and grabs the collar of my shirt. “Sink or swim, Ian.”

Mark and Devon and Ash and I stick together as we follow the rest of the bullies into the wilderness. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a baby monkey following that beanstalk kid from the bus. It might have been my imagination, but it doesn’t really matter, because as soon as I start thinking about hearing a distant sproinngg! of a dodgeball, I burst out laughing. That’s the Freak coming through, Tom. It plays tricks when things get intense. Makes me laugh, even when nothing about the situation is funny. Keep it together, I tell myself. I could really use a couple minutes alone in a bathroom.

“Are we almost there?” Ash asks hopefully.

“Nope!” says this woman with dark, shimmery blue hair and tattoos of feathers going up her arm.

“So when we get back, what happens next?” I follow up, keeping my eyes peeled for any monkeys.

“Don’t be so eager, boys,” says the blue-haired woman. “Just enjoy the sunshine and let it all happen in due course.”

“What if I don’t like surprises?” Devon asks.

“Or sunlight?” says the girl named Alva. I have no idea how long she has been there, due to monkey watch.

I can see the woman smirk. “You need to let go a little, kids. If you’re always in a rush to get somewhere else, when will you get where you’re going?”

Mark frowns. “Never?”

“Correct!”

“So … how exactly are you supposed to get where you want to go?” says Ash.

She shrugs. “Just stop and look around: You’re already there.”

Ash stops. He looks around.

“I am not where I want to be,” he says.

Before I know what’s happening, I feel another bubble of laughter erupt like a volcano—and I shut it down as fast as I can, but not before I’ve attracted attention.

“Something funny about being stranded in the woods?” says a boy with hair like a spiky helmet and a hypnotizing movie-star stare.

His aggressive, bright-white Cheshire cat smile makes me jump back—directly into the giant beanstalk with the mustache.

“Watch where you’re walking.”

The beanstalk pushes me forward into this giant puddle that wraps around my wrists and drains down around my foot inside my shoe.

I look up, and Mark is standing over me. “You okay?”

I can hear that guy with the mustache cackling and I see Devon fighting off a grin.

“What happened here?” The teacher with the shaved head who looks like a supervillain’s sidekick catches up with us.

“Nothing,” says Mark. “My friend just slipped.”

“Well get him up. Don’t fall behind.”

As the man clomps away, the mustached beanstalk keeps laughing at me.

“Back off, Sasquatch,” says Devon.

“What’d you call me?” asks the boy, standing up to his full height—about a head taller than any of us.

“You heard me,” says Devon. “Walk away before I punch those diseased follicles right off your lip.”

There’s a laugh from behind me—an audience is gathering, sniffing for a fight.

“Dev, come on,” says Mark. “Let’s go.”

This makes the beanstalk smile. “Good advice. You better listen to your mother.”

Devon grins. “Way better advice than whoever told you to grow that caterpillar on your face, Sasquatch. Stachesquatch.”

“Funny thing coming from a ten-year-old,” says the Stachesquatch.

Devon’s eyes gleam with devilish delight. “At least I’m human,” he says. “Not some woodland creature who lost all its fur from overconsumption of Mountain Dew.”

The Stachesquatch goes cold.

And Devon looks down at me. “Ian. What’re you still doing on the ground, man?”

I really have no answer to that.

“Come on, Ian,” I hear Mark whisper to me. “Stand up, okay?”

“Yeah, Ian,” says the Stache. “Stand up, Ian. Let’s get on with this, Ian …”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Mark tells him. “If we start a fight out here, we’ll all get sent to the Village before reform school even starts.”

The Stache hesitates for just a second, and Mark keeps at him. “Good decision,” he says, pulling me to my feet.

“Ever seen a bear that went bald, guys?” Devon calls out to everyone. “It’s just sad.”

This is how Mark and Devon are when their friends are in trouble, Tom. Devon’s the brawn, and Mark’s the brains. Except that Devon’s also the brains. And Mark’s no wimp.

The Stache watches the four of us continue on, sort of perplexed at how we escaped him, and frowns. “I’ll see you later,” he says in a way that makes me feel queasy. “That’s a promise from Cole Harper.”

“What’s that, pal?” Devon shouts back. “Didn’t hear ya.”

“I said, it’s a promise from Cole Harper.”

“Sorry, didn’t catch it.”

“Ask Ian,” says Cole Harper. “He gets it, doesn’t he?”

And even though I feel shivers down my back, Ash keeps me marching forward, away from Cole “the Stachesquatch” Harper, until he’s out of earshot.

“Our boy’s a great negotiator, right?” says Devon, grabbing Mark around the neck as we head down the trail.

Mark’s a pretty good talker, I guess you’d say. The whole Wheeler family is made up of lawyers and school board members and a mayor or two.

“It wasn’t hard,” says Mark. “It’s just a matter of mutually assured destruction.”

“Mutually assured destruction?” I ask.

“It means that if we fight, nobody wins. Everyone gets sent to the Village—so we have to find a way to live together, even if we’re not happy about it.”

“You explained that to him?” I ask, looking back in the Stache’s direction.

Mark nods.

“In small words so he could understand?” Ash adds.

“Guys, let it go!”

We let it go. But I’m still worried, Tom: As everyone knows, there are plenty of ways to tease, taunt, and torture someone that don’t leave a physical mark.