His Own Way Out
Taylor Saracen
Contents
His Own Way Out
Untitled
Acknowledgments
Untitled
I. Junior
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
II. Senior
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
III. Adulthood
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
The Rise Up Series
His Own Way Out
The Rise Up Series
Book One
by
Taylor Saracen
13 Red Media Ltd.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
HIS OWN WAY OUT
Copyright © 2018 Taylor Saracen
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of 13 Red Media Ltd. is illegal and punishable by law.
* * *
Photography by Alejandro Palomares
Cover Design by Emily Irwin
Proofreading by The Pro Book Editor
To Blake
May your ambition continue to be as powerful as your dreams, and may your fears be few. My friend, this book is for you.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, a big thank you to Keith Miller for understanding and enhancing the vision of this project. Without his belief in me and the series, none of this would be possible. A special thank you to Blake Mitchell for enduring countless phone calls, texts, and emails while I ensured I had this thing right. I’m grateful to know him. To Kyle Ross for his support, positivity, and professionalism. An awed thank you to Emily Irwin for her ability to continuously create art that is more beautiful than I could have imagined. Thank you to Jill Savoia for being my forever go-to in all areas of everything and for her honesty. To Jenifer Friedman for opening my eyes to a world of possibility. Finally, a resounding thank you to my family for their endless love and support in all I do, and for dealing with my highly annoying writing habits without too much ribbing.
HIS OWN WAY OUT
Part I
Junior
1
It should have never happened the way it did, Blake knew that. Unfortunately, knowing something was fucked up didn’t magically give him the ability to alter it. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't erase the actions of the petty prick who outed him as bisexual. There was no way to go back in time and re-pave the path or stand in the middle of the Woodland County High School hallway with his hands on his hips, chest puffed, strong like Superman, ready to block the trajectory of the truth that was hurled at him, shot beyond him, splattered on the lockers for everyone to see. If he’d been given the opportunity to rewrite his reality, Blake never would have messed around with the mouthy motherfucker. Maybe then he could have evaded the wrath of Xander’s rejection, an apparent consequence of the cold shoulder Blake had checked him with.
Although there was nothing he could do to change the past, Blake did have power over the present, but he wasn’t sure he gave a shit about it. Sophomore year had been difficult thanks to the unexpected exposure, and he didn’t have much hope that junior year would be any kinder.
“Are you ready for this?” Greg Bobash asked, nudging the toe of his sneakers against Blake’s knee while he sat on a school step, wishing he was pretty much anywhere else.
“I’m here,” he answered, rubbing his palm over the tacky sweat that accumulated on his neck thanks to the brutal late-summer humidity in Kentucky.
“I guess that’s a start,” Greg teased, taking Blake’s hand and pulling him to his feet. “They say half the battle is showing up.”
“Who are they anyway?” Blake questioned, smirking at his friend. “I bet it’s a bunch of people I would never want to hang out with, assholes who say shit like that.”
“I just said it.”
“You did,” Blake confirmed, laughing as Greg bristled at the implication. “You’re stuck with me, G.”
“I’m not complaining,” Greg grinned, patting Blake’s shoulder as they crossed the threshold into the new school year.
“You better not be.”
Blake couldn’t deny that Greg was a strange bird, but his friend had proven he was as solid as stone. While his wrestling teammates had turned their backs on Blake after his unauthorized outing, Greg, and a few other outcasts, hadn’t wavered—which was fine with Blake. He had always felt more comfortable with them anyway.
Adjusting the backpack straps on his shoulders, Blake ignored his peers’ curious glances as he walked toward his homeroom. Memories of the first day of sophomore year came to mind, and Blake was taken aback by how different it had felt. Back then, there wasn’t a foreboding cloud hanging in the mornings. Everything was bright, new, and teeming with possibility. After exclusively attending private schools, Blake thought that transferring to a public school would be easy, and although it was a piece of cake academically, the social aspect was more than he bargained for.
The student population of Woodland High was five times the size of his previous school, which was cool for a while. He liked being around different people and learning new things, but when shit went down with Xander, Blake wished there had been less ears to hear and fewer mouths to spread the news. It was a complete mindfuck to be around more people than ever before, and then deal with the fact that they were wary of him because of the person who he inherently was. It was only natural he’d grown cynical and worried that when he faced the real world after high school, he would contend with the same lack of acceptance, but on a greater scale.
“Welcome back, Mr. Mitchell,” Ms. Patton greeted, extending her hand to shake Blake’s before he entered the classroom.
“Good morning, ma’am,” he replied, looking her straight in the eyes, just as he’d been taught to do since he was little boy.
“Let’s make it a good year,” she said, a sentiment that was immediately sullied when Blake walked into the room and saw none other than Xander Marks sitting in one of the desks furthest from the teacher’s.
As Blake begrudgingly sank into a seat at the front of the room, he silently cursed his father for giving him a last name that began with “M,” Xander for being a snake, and Ms. Patton for disproved positivity.
While the rest of his morning was uneventful, Blake found
confirmation that his year was bound to be a complete calamity when his ex-girlfriend Claire Kenwood walked into the cafeteria hand-in-hand with a senior Blake didn’t recognize. Last year, Blake ended his low-key relationship with Xander to be with Claire, a choice he didn’t regret, regardless of how things turned out. If it were up to him, Blake would still be with Claire, but unfortunately, it wasn’t. Claire was a good Christian girl with good Christian parents who didn’t want her with a not-so-good-Christian bisexual boy.
“You okay?” Greg asked, knocking his knee against Blake’s under the table.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, averting his gaze from the girl he wanted to be with to focus on his half-eaten turkey sandwich instead.
“I don’t know,” Greg tsked as if the answer was obvious, which, if Blake was being honest, it was. “Maybe you wouldn’t be because Claire strolled in here with some beast of a football player on her arm, looking cozy.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“Oh,” Greg nodded, clearly not buying the bullshit, “you didn’t notice?”
“Nope,” Blake replied, rolling his lips tight to his teeth while rubbing his thumb over his chin. “Not at all.”
The blond took a big bite of his pizza, rolled his eyes and hummed, “Hmm.”
“Don’t hmm me.”
“Alright.”
“I’m not some pussy,” Blake stated matter-of-factly.
Greg lifted his free arm in mock surrender. “Hey, hey, hey. I didn’t say you were!”
“I know you didn’t say it, but I’m making sure you know it.”
The way Greg lifted his pale eyebrows in amusement had Blake cracking a smile despite himself. Though he’d known his friend for less than a year, Blake liked how his boy could read him, even when it was aggravating. It was nice to have someone at school who had his back.
“Got it,” Greg assured, holding up his thumb.
“Corny,” Blake laughed.
“I prefer husky,” Greg corrected, grabbing one of his stomach rolls and giving it a jiggle. “You can’t relate.”
“Not quite,” Blake teased, waggling his eyebrows as he lifted his shirt a bit to flash his taut abs.
“Show off,” Greg grinned.
“There’s nothing wrong with being proud of your body. Work out with me,” he urged. “It’ll be fun.”
“Fun is getting high and eating Cheetos, not running around chafing my ballsack during the ass-crack of summer.”
“Are you offering?” Blake asked, thinking how a bowl was exactly what he needed.
“My sweaty ballsack?”
“Weed, douchebag,” Blake chuckled, shaking his head. “We could blaze after school.”
“I have a little something,” Greg nodded.
“You have a little what?” their friend Ian McManus asked, plopping into the seat beside Greg.
“Pot.”
“Ah,” the redhead nodded. “I thought you were talking about your dick.”
“I have much more dick than I have weed,” Greg sighed. “It’s a curse.”
“I’m sure,” Ian laughed. “You got enough for me to join?”
“Yeah.”
“Less for us then,” Blake pointed out. “You should come with some Budweiser from your dad’s stash to even it out.”
“It’s not even your weed,” Ian exclaimed as Blake leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave him a shit-eating grin.
“Blake’s a businessman,” Greg said, clapping Blake’s back heartily. “Always out here wheeling and dealing.”
“You know me,” Blake clicked his tongue, “I have to work that hustle. Are you going to bring the Bud?”
“Are you assholes going to come with me to Matt’s party tonight if I do?”
“It’s Monday. Who parties on a Monday night?” Greg chided.
“We do, right?” Ian replied, tilting his head in Blake’s direction. “Are you in?”
While Blake knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to go out and get blasted when he had to be up early for school the next morning, he didn’t care. His day had been shitty, and it seemed like doing things differently could steer his year in the right direction. It’s not like he had homework beyond getting his syllabuses signed, and he wasn’t sure he would give a damn even if he had a report due the next day.
“I’m in,” Blake decided, taking the final bite of his sandwich. “This is good.”
“Good, huh?” Greg challenged. “I’d call it a lot of things, but I’m not sure good is one of them.”
“Bad things can be good sometimes if you do them right,” Blake told Greg, laughing when his friend poked his finger into Blake’s dimple.
“You’re a cheeky one today,” Greg noted with a sigh. “I guess I could think of worse things to do. I mean, even the mention of this improved your mood. What kind of friend would I be if I denied you?”
“A boring one,” Blake suggested.
“Super boring,” Ian agreed. “Don’t be a super boring guy, Greg.”
“Peer pressure is next level in eleventh grade,” the blond observed, tapping his forehead thoughtfully. “Fine, I’ll go.”
“Good. You’re driving,” Blake grinned.
“What the fuck?” Greg exclaimed.
“I don’t have a license and McManus doesn’t have a car, you have both.”
“The burden of being a responsible guy,” Greg sighed, taking a swig of his Dr. Pepper.
“Truly,” Blake agreed, patting his friend’s hand. “I plan to avoid the heavy lifting for as long as possible.”
“Except for weights. You think it’s fun to lift those,” Greg reminded Blake.
“Not as fun as getting smashed on a school night. I feel like, this year, partying should take priority over…” Blake thought for a moment, “everything. No girls, no boys, no drama, just good old-fashioned debauchery.”
“That sounds productive,” Greg smirked.
“I like the new Blake,” Ian added.
Blake nodded, wondering if he could like the “new Blake,” too. Maybe junior year had some potential after all.
2
By the time Blake, Greg, and Ian made it to Matt’s family farm, Blake was so bombed, he knew he had no business being anywhere but in bed sobering up. Still, he persisted, ready to own the night or, at the very least, rent it for the next couple of hours. Even though he was definitely in a better space than earlier that day, he was emotionally exhausted by the wherewithal it took to suffer his peers sober. It could have been worse—earlier that morning his mind had spun with awful scenarios that hadn’t materialized—but he couldn’t ignore the fact that it could have gone better, too.
The night felt different than the constrained day, like it was full of possibility and opportunities to explore. As was customary for August, the afternoon air was stifling, but the evening offered reprieve. A light breeze tickled Blake’s skin with a hint of impending autumn, while the warmth of summer lingered to kiss the apples of his cheeks. It was strange how even a passing glance at the thorny thicket of Kentucky plum trees beyond the stables could spark nostalgia and flood Blake with a contentedness he so rarely experienced anymore. Memories of being a rambunctious, cherub-faced five-year-old and leaping under ‘Ivory Silk’ trees with his older brother, Logan, flitted into his mind. Blake and Logan would laugh until their sides hurt as they attempted to grab the cream-colored lilacs that hung from the limbs. Eventually they’d tumble into the plush bluegrass and lie on their backs to watch butterflies and hummingbirds flutter to the fragrant blooms. Things were never simple, not even then, but Blake had thought they were, which was as good as it being so.
While Blake was aware that seventeen wasn’t exactly old, he’d never thought of himself as young. Adult responsibilities had seeped into the years meant to be marked by youthful giggles and skinned knees. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t had a happy childhood, it was more that he’d always thought he was grown and should be treated accordingly—so some
times he was. It was a stark contrast from his more recent desire to shirk all obligation.
“Earth to Blake,” Ian sang, elbowing Blake in the rib cage playfully. “Do you have a craving for some plums, man? Are you looking to keep yourself regular on that geriatric shit?”
“Dumbass,” Blake chided, reaching into the back pocket of Ian’s jeans to lift the cigarettes they’d gone half on earlier. “The only thing I’m craving is nicotine.”
“And chemicals, carcinogens, toxins, tar, carbon monoxide, formaldehyde, ammonia, cyanide, arsenic, DDT...” Greg added, clicking his tongue in disapproval as Blake placed the paper between his lips and cupped his hands to light it up.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think the resin in your bowl, the beers we pounded, and the gas station burritos we ate for dinner are doing anything to keep us in optimal health,” he retorted, waving Ian off when he tried to high-five him. “It is a bad habit.”
But it was one Blake had not yet had the capacity to quit. He blamed Dominic. Though, if he was being honest, he held his mom’s boyfriend responsible for a lot of things the guy may not have actually been guilty of. Dom was an easy scapegoat, being far from an angel himself. Regardless of whether Dominic deserved the blame about other things, it was him who gave Blake his first cigarette at twelve, so the smoking was at least partially on him. Maybe Blake and Dominic were too similar or too painfully different. Either way, things had rarely worked between them, and that was alright with Blake. There were many things to dislike about Dom, but his redeeming qualities made it difficult for Blake to despise him. It had been tough for Blake to be away from his mom when she was diagnosed with cancer during his freshman year at boarding school, but there was some solace in knowing that Dominic had stepped up to care for her. When Blake decided to come back to Unionville for sophomore year and enroll in public school rather than being away, Dom and Logan told him that things were fine. Still, it didn’t feel right to be states away when his mother was sick. Though she had other people there for her, he wanted to be one of them, too.
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