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I wasn't hungry-not even in the slightest way-but I ordered myself a coffee anyway to help the uneasy feeling in my stomach. Nerves were eating me alive when I thought of Hunter's wellbeing. What was I supposed to say to Evelyn and my dad?

Pierson made it clear that he didn't want any of us to discuss what happened at the Smell. He was the kind of guy you didn't want to mess with or upset, and I knew that already after knowing him for a brief amount of time. His large frame struggled to fit in the tiny booth we were both sitting at. I fidgeted with the spoon and fork before me, trying my best not to make direct eye contact with him. How awful was Xander and Beth to leave me with a complete and utter stranger? That was cruel on so many levels.

Friends don't leave friends with strangers. That had to be a rule somewhere, written in some book out there in the world. It just had to be.

"You're bleeding."

The words ripped me out of my thoughts. "Huh?" I looked up at him.

"You're. Bleeding." He said slower, gesturing to my arm. I looked at my forearm, finding a large gash deep in my arm. I hadn't noticed it at the Smell. He pulled out some napkins from the napkin dispenser and handed it over to me. "Didn't you feel that? It looks pretty fucking deep."

I dabbed it against my flesh, shaking my head. In the most serious voice I could muster, I said: "I guess I'm immune to pain."

"As great as that sounds, I know that's not true."

"Unless I have congenital insensitivity to pain."

"Can you say that again, but in English?" He popped up a brow.

I sighed. "It's a genetic disorder where you can't feel pain. It's rare, super rare."

He nodded. "Oh. Okay. I think I've heard of that before. Do you have that?"

"No," I answered. "I wish I did, though."

"No you don't. There's always a downfall to everything. Even if you don't feel pain, doesn't mean you can't feel the real emotional pain. To me, I think that's more damaging. Not the physical pain. See my hand." He waved his hand around. "If I broke it, it'll heal up eventually. But there's nothing that can heal something fucked up inside my head that easily."

Pierson was pretty. He should stay being pretty because he made no sense whatsoever.

I could show actual evidence that physical pain danced, hand in hand, with emotional turmoil. They weren't two separate monsters; they were two faces on the same coin. We, as people, all fell in different ways to similar situations. It's the strength within us-more or less-that helps us let those scars heal our wounds. That, and time. But time was a bitch to get a hold of.

I sighed. "We can agree to disagree."

He scoffed and relaxed back in the booth, resting his arm along the empty seat beside him. The waitress came around to our table and handed us both coffees along with cream on the side. While pouring in the cream and sugar, I could feel Pierson's eyes watching me, observing every move I made.

"Who are you?" He asked with a half-smile.

I pulled the spoon out of my coffee. "I'm Canada."

His nose scrunched up, bemusement dancing in his eyes. "What?"

"Canada. Like the country. The country above-"

"I know where fucking Canada is. I've seen a map before," he cut me off. "No offense, but were your parents on LSD when they named you Canada?"

I chuckled. "No, that's not my name. It's that Carmen has been introducing me as Canada. My name is Silvia Ellington."

"Oh. Now that makes more sense. She called me Scotland when I first met her."

I cocked a brow. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." He brought the brim of his coffee cup up to his lips, drinking it black with no sugar or cream. "Someone really needs to give that girl a globe."

"And a new brain." I added.

"I propose we start a Kickstarter for her to get a better brain and personality that's not so annoying." He grinned, flashing a dimple. My heartbeat picked up at the sight of his dimples in that quick second-no joke. I made sure I wasn't smiling like fool at him.

He went on. "I swear, it's like her parents told her she could be anything in life, and she decided to be a bitch."

On cue, Carmen stormed into the diner like hell was snapping at her ankles. Maven and a few of the other guys at the Smell Pierson had brought with him was behind her, walking in to the diner.

"Speak of the devil," I muttered.

"I'll deal with her." Pierson raised his hand and got up from his seat. "Are you stalking me? Carmen, we've talked about this. This isn't healthy. I don't want you." He was smirking the entire time, so I knew he was only pulling her chain.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not here for you. Where is he?"

"What? Your dignity? It is currently missing in action." He joked.

God, I think he hates her more than Faye.

"I'm teasing you," he finally said when he saw that Carmen wasn't taking it well. "Hunter is safe. He's in good hands. You don't need to worry."

She exhaled a breath I could tell she was holding in for the longest time. But she sprang back to her tense form when she saw me, sitting in the booth. "What the hell is she doing here? You know, I heard how it all happened." She put her hands on her hips. "If you hadn't been such a distract, then he wouldn't be in the case he is now!"

"I didn't do anything wrong." I said. "This isn't my fault."

"He jumped in there and saved your ass! That's when someone struck him from behind! Because of you!" she shouted, going right for me. She looked like she was about to strike. "Why did you even have to be there!?! THIS IS YOUR DAMN FAULT!"

Pierson pushed her away from me. "Whoa there, Carmen. Your crazy is showing. You might want to tuck that back in." A few of the guys around us laughed, but that only seemed to piss her off even more from the looks of it. "Look, Carmen. I doubt Silvia's intentions were to get Hunter hurt tonight. He's the one who willing decided to come with me to the Smell. He knew the risks of going like. You can't put that on this girl."

"It is her fault though," she pressed on and nearly lunged at me, but Pierson was quick and grabbed her.

Holding her still, he glared down at her. "You are not starting a fight. I've seen enough of that for tonight." He turned to Maven. "She can't stay here. Go take her back to the car."

"Make sure to crack the window open," I mumbled to myself. From the way Pierson looked over at me with a amused grin told me he had heard me.

After Carmen was escorted out by Maven, Pierson had a small discussion with the guys from Crescent High. They were closer to the entrance of the diner, talking in soft whispers. There were small snags of words that I had heard. Like "The Deal" and "Heath" were said more than once. I recalled them starting the fight about a deal, and how one of the rules had been broken by the Crescent High students.

Once they were done speaking, I'd finished off my coffee and a refill the waitress gave me. We paid for our coffees and collected Xander and Beth from their seats in the corner. Pierson drove back to the Smell, sure that the cops had left. When we got there, he was right. There was no sight of the police.

We split into two different cars. Since Doug, Pierson, and I lived around the same neighborhood, Pierson agreed to drive us home. Xander said he lived closer to where Beth lived, so he went along with her instead. Doug was the first to get dropped off. When he got out, I didn't waste any time to speak.

"Thanks."

"For what?" He inquired, pulling back into the street.

"For not letting Carmen rip my throat out."

He smirked. "I highly doubt she'd do that."

"You don't think she's vicious enough to do it?"

"Oh, no. That girl is gone in the head. She is very capable to rip someone's throat out like." He nodded. "But I've a feeling that you wouldn't let her even get that far. I saw you at the Smell kick that guy in the stomach and pepper spray another. And for the most part, you were walking around with a pocket knife so casually--like you've held it a million times before. If anything, she's the one who should be scared of you."

He was watching me?

I tried to hide my smile. "I'm not scary."

"Where'd you get all that stuff? Most girls don't have that just lying in their purses."

I shrugged. "Maybe you don't know many girls."

"That could be true, too," he continued out loud. And for the second time tonight, he asked: "Who are you, Silvia Ellington?"

We pulled up next to my home, stopping right before the driveway. I clicked off my seatbelt and stepped out of the car. I leaned back into the car, saying: "I guess you'll have to find out."

"Trust me, I will." He said with a determined look.

I shut the door and I made my way to the front door and brought out the front door key-making sure not to look back at him. It was only after the rumbling of his car had faded away that I glanced over my shoulder, watching his red headlights shimmering in the dark.

The confidence behind his words hadn't sprung joy into my heart. Only fear. It wouldn't take much digging to learn what I'd done back in Maine. I wasn't hiding behind a false name or identity. I was myself, open like a book--fearing the wrong person would find what's lurking inside.

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Song: L$D by A$AP Rocky

Lyrics:

❝She ain't a stranger to the city life.❞

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Please vote and Comment :)

A/N: What are your thoughts on Pierson? Carmen?

I've decided that Pierson lived in Sligo the longest, but he was born in the County Cork. So at the end of statements, he says "so" and also "like" --which, in a way, is similar to how we Americans say "you know" at the end of a statement.

[I know a few Irish people, so I'm going on the knowledge they've given me to write out Pierson's character. If I've done something wrong, please tell me. But also, since I've chosen where he's from that should dominate how he speaks.]

For future chapters, I will add the translation of the slang he uses. But hopefully, it won't be often because Pierson has lived in America for three/four years, so he would've adjusted a bit with the amount of slang he uses. I've got his character pretty figured out :P

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