CHAPTER 1: Sharp pens and creepy reptiles

“Get back here, man!”

I ignored him and kept moving through the courtyard, though moving was a generous word for what I was doing. It was closer to running, but I liked to think there was dignity in it. Somewhere behind me, Darren Graev, one of the school’s star football players and owner of legs longer than my future, was gaining fast. In my defence, I hadn’t meant to knock his sports drink into his lap during lunch. I had meant to move his bag out of my way with my foot, which accidentally moved his drink, which accidentally tipped over, which accidentally soaked the front of his uniform in bright blue liquid. Personally, I thought the universe deserved some blame, but Darren seemed determined to place all of it on me.

The school corridors were packed, which worked both in my favour and against me. Students spilled out of classrooms, lockers slammed open, and everyone seemed determined to move in the exact opposite direction I needed them to. I ducked around a group of girls comparing lip gloss, squeezed between two teachers who were pretending not to notice the chaos, and nearly tripped over someone’s abandoned sports bag before spotting the only available hiding place: the girls’ changing room. Brilliant. I slipped inside, slammed the door shut, and locked it before Darren could reach me.

For one glorious second, I thought I had won. Then I turned around and realised the room was full of girls in various stages of getting changed, brushing hair, tying shoes, and staring at me as if I had just crawled out of a drain. No one spoke. I stood there. They stood there. One girl held a hairbrush halfway to her head. Another had one shoe on and one shoe off. For a few seconds we all simply eyed each other, and because silence had never been my strong point, I cracked a smile. That was apparently the signal for all hell to break loose.

The room exploded into screaming. Girls ran in every direction, grabbing bags, dropping towels, hiding behind lockers, and shrieking loud enough to permanently damage several innocent ears. One girl actually jumped over a set of lockers on the right. The lockers were about my size, and while I may not be the tallest person around, she was even shorter than me and still somehow managed to clear them without touching the top. I needed to find out what she was taking. It had to be Red Bull. Like they say, Red Bull gives you wings.

“Great, now I need a new set of eardrums. Thanks a lot, Scream Queens,” I muttered, covering my ears with both hands just as a sudden banging on the door made me jump. “Open up! I know you’re in there!” Darren shouted from the other side. “No, I’m not,” I replied before my brain had the chance to stop me. The answer came from an idiot, and by idiot, I mean me. I facepalmed and sighed because there was no coming back from that. If I had been smart, I would’ve stayed silent. If I had been smarter, I wouldn’t have ended up in the girls’ changing room being hunted by a football player in the first place.

Since neither of those things applied, I unlocked the door and opened it, fully prepared to face the consequences like a man. Only problem was, I wasn’t a man. The first thing I saw was a chest. Not a face, not even shoulders, just a chest directly in front of me. I tilted my head back and looked up at him, immediately questioning every height-related decision my body had ever made. Am I that short?

“Listen here, bud,” Darren started, grabbing my arm rather harshly, might I add. Now what was I supposed to tell people when they asked why there was a handprint on my arm? Oh, nothing much, I tripped and fell on a hand-shaped rock. “You don’t even know me, so stop acting buddy-buddy and unhand me, you dummy!” I snapped, yanking against his grip.

For a moment, he was speechless. Completely and wonderfully speechless. I credited that to my mad angry-face skills, which were honestly underappreciated by society. Then, unfortunately, he opened his mouth again. “Dude. Why’s your voice sounding like a chick’s?”

I looked down at myself and, fine, maybe the outfit wasn’t helping. I was wearing an oversized black hoodie with BACK OFF written across it in bold white letters, a pair of grey sweatpants so loose I had to use a ribbon to keep them on my waist, and black sneakers that had seen better days. The hoodie was up too, covering most of my hair and face. Still, what did he expect? Seven-inch heels and some skimpy top I would personally mistake for a dishcloth? Nope. Not me.

Speechless. That was what I was now, thanks to the impressive amount of stupidity a single person could contain. I couldn’t even stop myself. One minute I was shocked silent, and the next I was strangling the life out of the poor soul that had crossed me. “You idiot, it doesn’t take a fricken rocket scientist to see I’m a girl!” I bellowed. I bet even the birds stopped chirping to see what was happening. To be fair, the hood over my head didn’t exactly help my case, but unfortunately, self-awareness did not loosen my grip.

“Get this psycho off of me!” Darren screamed. And he called me the girl? I was surprised the windows were still intact. “I’ll show you psycho,” I hissed, about to try and gauge his eyes out when a pair of hands grabbed me from behind. “Hey, let go!” I struggled, but whoever had me managed to remove me from my target before I could complete my very reasonable act of revenge.

When I turned around, I found myself staring at Kyle. Oh, brother. His hazel eyes were narrowed in anger, and after one quick scan over my clothes, or more accurately his clothes, his expression became even more unimpressed. What could I say? He had great taste. “Danny, what were you thinking? We’ve talked about this. You can’t go around trying to kill people,” he scolded, as if he was my parent and not my brother who happened to be one year older than me. Just because he was older didn’t mean he was the boss. I was the boss baby. No, boss girl. Never mind.

“Correction, murder is the word I would use, and it’s nice to see you too, brother,” I replied dryly, trying to hide the smile forcing its way onto my face. Not now, smile bones. Calm down.

“What is the meaning of this?” a sharp voice demanded.

Oh, here we go again. I could already picture the angry, brooding face of Principal Scabbich before I even turned. Salt-and-pepper hair barely hanging on to the left side of his head, scowl sharpened and ready, eyes already calculating my next punishment. It was our special thing, you see. I did something he didn’t like, then he gave me detention while pretending to hate me, but deep down I knew he loved me.

“Morning, Mr Cabbage.” I coughed awkwardly. “I meant Scabbich.” A few people snickered at my little slip-up, which was completely not my fault. His name rhymed with cabbage. There was the scowl I loved to hate.

“Sir, she came at me. She tried to kill me,” Darren said, now hiding behind the principal, which was pretty ridiculous considering he was taller than him. I scoffed and looked around at the audience of students who had gathered in the hallway. People really couldn’t mind their own business. “Correction, I tried to murder you.” I waved at him and smiled when he flinched. Chicken.

“My office. Now! Everyone else, back to your classes.”

The audience dispersed like a flock of doves, even my own brother. Traitor. I had only taken one step after him when Principal Scabbich’s voice cut through the corridor again. “Not you.” I stopped and turned back to face him. “I wasn’t going anywhere. I was just trying to move back and let the army of ants pass by. They can’t be late for their war, you know how it is. Considering you were in World War One.” I smiled cheekily, making sure my dimples popped in an adorable manner. His scowl deepened at the last comment, which I took as proof that my dimples were not powerful enough for every situation. I sighed and followed him to his office, with Darren keeping a very safe distance from me the entire way.

School went on being its usual boring self after that. The only interesting thing that had happened all morning was me getting yet another detention, which, if you asked me, had become more of a school tradition than an actual punishment. I thought the day would end horribly dull, but maths proved me wrong.

“So everyone, hand in yesterday’s homework so I can mark it and you can see where you went wrong,” Mr Santon said, not surprisingly giving me the stink eye as the rest of the class began shuffling through folders and notebooks.

Everyone stood up to hand in their work, but there were always a few people who didn’t have theirs. Either they forgot, or they just didn’t care. I unfortunately fell under the former. Well, mostly the former. Sometimes the line between forgetting and not caring was very thin and wearing a disguise. “Daniella, I see you haven’t submitted your work,” Mr Santon said.

My ears perked up at the mention of my name. I quickly turned around to face the boy behind me. “Hey, Daniel, do me a favour, will ya?” He didn’t even look up properly before saying, “No.” I leaned closer anyway. “Oh, come on. It’s not hard. All you have to do is add ‘la’ to your name.” Daniel rolled his eyes, which was rude, but also fair. It was never going to work. I would have to find a way to subtly erase his surname as well and force mine instead. Oh, and let’s not forget my middle names. Yes, there was more than one.

“Daniella,” Mr Santon repeated.

“Yes, Mr Santon.” I turned back around and sighed. “I don’t have my homework.”

“And why is that?” he asked lazily, almost seeming not to care.

“It had too many problems, so it committed suicide, and I tried to save it, but mouth-to-paper wasn’t working.” I smiled innocently while the class erupted into a chorus of snickers. Mr Santon only shook his head before ripping a slip from his detention book. He was about to hand it to me when I raised a hand to stop him. “Don’t bother. Mr Scabbich already beat you to it, again.”

He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “of course” before continuing with his lesson and completely ignoring my presence, even when I raised my hand to ask and answer questions. Rude, honestly. If teachers wanted students to participate, they should be emotionally prepared for me.

By the time break came around, the hallways were packed with students all rushing to enjoy their freedom. Who wouldn’t rush for food? The cafeteria was probably already crowded, which meant the line would be long, loud, and full of people who apparently forgot how personal space worked the moment snacks were involved. I was on my way to my locker, already annoyed by the thought of battling my way through the cafeteria, when two bodies bumped into me from both sides.

“Sup, Danny,” two male voices said at once.

I rolled my eyes before glancing at the sources of my irritation. Chris and Tommy were now walking beside me, one on each side, effectively shielding me from the hallway traffic. If it wasn’t for the two large male species next to me, I would’ve been pushed around like a sack of potatoes. “Just because you’re twins doesn’t mean you have to say stuff at the same time,” I said, frowning up at the two skyscrapers beside me. I never understood how, in middle school, we had all been around the same height. Not once did I let it bother me, though. I loved my height. Mostly.

“Yeah, but it’s more fun that way,” Chris replied. Chris was the dumber of the two, which was saying a lot because Tommy was standing right there. He flicked his head to the side, tossing the dirty-blonde locks out of his face in a move that reminded me painfully of Justin Bieber. I rolled my eyes, remembering exactly why he had started doing the hair flick in the first place.

“Plus, it attracts the ladies,” Tommy chimed in. Tommy was the one I had always considered smarter, though that title was becoming more questionable by the day. At least he had managed to slick back his hair, but the amount of gel he used made it look like he’d been dunked headfirst into a pool of cooking oil. He turned to Chris and chuckled. “Let me help you out there, bro.”

He faced his brother and began blowing across Chris’s forehead, apparently trying to keep the hair up. I wasn’t shocked by the stupidity. After years of friendship, shock required a much higher standard. I simply stood there, glaring at both of them while Tommy kept blowing until he started looking slightly dizzy. Being the smart one, I tiptoed, yes, tiptoed, and rubbed my hand over Tommy’s hair to collect the overflowing amount of gel while resisting the urge to puke at the squishy sound. Then I moved my shiny hand to Chris’s head and smoothed back the locks that had fallen into his face. Once satisfied, I wiped the remaining gel onto Chris’s luckily black T-shirt.

Sometimes I wondered why I had befriended the troublesome twins.

Tommy scowled. “You messed up my hair.”

Chris made fake puking sounds, and I laughed at the ridiculous face he pulled. Before I could comment, someone shoved me hard from the side, sending me stumbling over my untied laces. I hated tying them. Bending down was simply too much work. A flash of pink swept past before I was shoved aside like a potato. A potato flew around my room before you came. Excuse the mess it made.

I crashed into a hard wall of flesh, bounced off, and landed on the floor. My backpack broke the fall, though I really hoped I hadn’t broken anything inside it. “Hey, watch where you’re going!” an angry voice snapped from somewhere above me. I quickly moved my hands into my lap before they could be trampled by the elephants passing through the hallway. After blinking a couple of times, my eyes zeroed in on the cause of my sudden reunion with the floor.

Barbie.

Her parents had actually named her Barbie. I still wasn't sure whether that counted as child abuse or spectacular optimism. With glossy pink hair, perfect makeup, and an outfit that looked like it required committee approval before leaving the house, she somehow managed to live up to the name.

I got up, neglecting my bag entirely, and rolled my sleeves up before marching straight towards the doll now standing exactly where I had been before. Grabbing a fistful of pink hair, I yanked Barbie away from the twins and shoved her aside into the arms of a guy passing by. If I hadn’t been so pissed off, I would’ve laughed at the hysterical face she made when she landed in her ex-number-I-couldn’t-remember’s arms. No surprise that he was quite willing to catch her.

Still fuming, I turned back to Tommy and grabbed the pen sticking out of his shirt pocket. I had been eyeing it for a while. I quickly backed away before he could stop me and dashed towards Barbie, who was now back on her feet. It was as if my hand had a mind of its own. I jabbed the pen at her, but before it could hit where I had intended, she flinched with a scream and I ended up jabbing her boob. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to remove the cap, so it didn’t pierce through her fluffy pink top.

“What is going on here?”

I turned to my left and saw Mr Scabbich’s angry face. He didn’t seem shocked to see me, which honestly hurt a little. I glanced back at my current position. My right hand held the pen directly on top of Barbie’s boob while she stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights. I could imagine how strange this looked. The hallway had gone silent, students stopping to stare because apparently everyone had forgotten how to mind their own business.

“I’m waiting,” Mr Scabbich said, tapping his foot.

To make things less awkward, I removed my hand from Barbie’s chest and turned to him. How was I supposed to explain such a situation? “I... um... well... you see—”

“She tried to kill me!” Barbie screeched, her voice echoing through the silent hallway.

It was funny how every time there was drama, people stopped and stared so quietly. Mr Scabbich shook his head, not in disbelief, more in tired annoyance. I guessed he had become used to the constant murder complaints concerning me. “To my office. Now.” I sometimes wondered if he ever got tired of saying that.

“All you have to do is apologise, and we can move on with our lives,” Mr Scabbich said from behind his desk.

We had been in his office for twenty minutes. He had spent most of that time trying to get an apology out of me because Barbie planned to file some stupid charges if she didn’t receive one. My response had been, “And that’s my problem how?” Apparently, it was my problem because people didn’t enjoy being threatened with pens in school hallways. Society had become so sensitive.

I glanced over at Barbie. She sat in a chair a safe distance from me, looking far too smug for someone who had nearly been defeated by stationery. Every time she pulled out the “my parents are lawyers” card, it got on my nerves. So what if she could get me sent to a juvenile correction centre? It wasn’t like I cared. Okay, maybe I cared. I was too young to go to jail.

“I’m waiting,” she said, raising one perfectly taken-care-of eyebrow.

How did she do that? Yes, that’s right, I couldn’t raise one eyebrow. Not all of us had abnormal foreheads. I sighed, stretched my arms, and placed my hands on the desk, definitely not missing the way she flinched. I smiled sweetly at the principal. “So, I apologise and I’m free to go?”

He nodded while eyeing me warily. I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t easy to cooperate with.

I sat up straight and turned to Barbie. The way she sat with her legs crossed and her skirt practically climbing up her thighs almost made me laugh. Taking a breath, I swallowed my pride. “I’m sorry.” I was surprised I didn’t choke on the words. My throat was practically trying to force them back down.

“For?” Barbie asked.

Oh no, she did not.

I clenched my jaw. “For stabbing your chest area.”

Her smug look deepened, so I chose to continue. “I was aiming for your neck, but you just happened to move at the last second. Try to stay still next time.”

Barbie gasped in shock.

I gave her a blank look.

“Ms Katamina!” Mr Scabbich shouted. “You give her a proper apology now, or I’ll be forced to give you detention for the next two weeks, plus the one I already gave you, along with cleaning duties.”

I cringed at the last part. Me? Cleaning? Absolutely not. “Okay, okay. I’m really sorry, Barbie. Please forgive me. I won’t do it again.” Today. Hehe. I clenched my jaw at her smug face and resisted the urge to wipe it off with my fist. Growth, honestly.

“You are so dead,” Chris said later, smiling at me in a way that made it very difficult to take him seriously. “Your mother’s gonna kill you.”

He was referring to the detention slip weighing heavily in my bag. Unfortunately, he was right. “Dude, shut up,” Tommy said before kicking a small pebble onto the road.

School was finally over, and we were on our way home. We didn’t live far from school, just a forty-minute walk, so we opted to walk. By “we,” I meant them. Something about keeping their “hot” bodies in shape. Personally, the only shape I needed was the one my butt made in the couch.

“She’s doing that creepy smile again,” Chris commented, eyeing me strangely.

I rolled my eyes and continued down the sidewalk. Zarp City after school was never exactly peaceful. Cars honked at nothing, shop shutters rattled as owners pulled them halfway down, and somewhere in the distance a police siren wailed for about three seconds before cutting off abruptly. No one around us reacted. That was the thing about living here. After a while, crime became background noise, like traffic or annoying neighbours. You noticed it only when it got too close.

That was exactly when I noticed something in the middle of the road. It wasn’t a car. It was smaller, brownish green, long and winding. Almost like a—

My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I tripped on air. The two behind me walked straight into my back, almost sending me toppling forward like a domino. “Hey, why’d you stop?” Chris asked.

I kid you not, my heart was practically out of my body and lying on the road. Figuratively, of course. Was this what an out-of-body experience felt like? Because I would really have liked to feel my limbs again. I stood frozen, staring at the thing in the road and praying my eyes were tricking me. Please let this be a sick joke. Please let it be anything else.

“SNAKE!” Tommy yelled, freakishly like a girl, as if the world was falling apart. Quick movements sounded behind me, but I was too afraid to take my eyes off the predator. “Sshhh, you idiot,” Chris whispered. At least he could think. “You’ll get us killed.” A pause. “Wait, did it move? We are so dead!” Then he began panicking louder than his brother.

No, no, no, no. Out of all the idiots to be in this situation with, it had to be the two most likely to get me swallowed by that thing. And yes, it had definitely moved. My imagination ran wild, dragging up every anaconda movie I had ever watched as a kid. I did not want to be strangled and swallowed whole. Move, body, move, I commanded silently.

The snake lifted itself, rose up, stood up, or whatever snakes did when they wanted to make sure your soul left your body, and looked at us. That was all it took. Every brain cell disappeared. The three of us screamed and ran around frantically like chickens, which was the perfect simile considering we might just be eaten like them. Chris and Tommy ran back the way we came, but I stupidly ran across the road, completely forgetting the rule. Look left, right, then left again before crossing.

The loud screech of car tyres stopped me in my tracks right in the middle of the road. I froze like a deer caught in headlights, literally, as a white van stopped barely a breath away from me. The male driver looked almost as terrified as I felt. I hadn’t realised my breathing had practically disappeared until I sucked in a huge gulp of air. I could’ve been run over. Yikes.

The van door screeched open, and a man stepped out. Just one man. He walked right up to the snake like it wasn’t going to devour him like fried chicken. The snake hissed at him before lowering its head. Then the man patted the animal as if it were a bunny rabbit. I blinked. I had to be dreaming.

He lifted the snake, somehow, because it looked like it weighed ten times more than him, and carefully placed it in the back of his van. The snake complied willingly. What the heck?

He slammed the door closed before finally acknowledging my shocked self. “Oh, hey there. I hope Sally didn’t cause any trouble.”

Who?

“She accidentally got out of her cage and got lost, you see.”

Yeah. “Accidentally” was definitely the right word for that.

I blinked twice before responding. “Besides the fact that she almost swallowed me and my good-for-nothing friends, it’s alright, I guess.” I shrugged it off like it wasn’t a near-death experience and like I hadn’t almost peed myself.

“No need to worry. She’s harmless.”

Harmless my foot.

The man smiled as if this was a perfectly normal conversation to have in the middle of the road. He had kind eyes, I noticed, but there was something about the way he looked at me that made the back of my neck prickle. His gaze dropped briefly to the name stitched on the front of my school blazer.

Katamina.

For half a second, his smile faltered.

Then it returned.

“Alright then,” he said, climbing back into the van. “We must be off.”

It took me a moment to realise I was still standing in the middle of the road. I walked back to the sidewalk and stood there as the van sped off, watching until it turned the corner and disappeared between two graffiti-covered buildings. Chris and Tommy slowly emerged from wherever they had abandoned me like the loyal friends they were.

“What the hell just happened?” I asked.

Well, here’s a warm welcome to Zarp City, located in the country of Capetinia. Zarp City happened to be the most crime-filled city in the country. Gangs at every corner, constant bank robberies, weird animal encounters, and honestly, I was sure you got the gist. Please keep your bags, phones, fingers, eyes, toes, and basically all your belongings close to you at all times, and enjoy your stay. It would be a visit to remember.

Oh, and do try to stay alive.