Outside

by Sewell, Nicole

  I really don’t know, but I nod anyway, noting that he didn’t list television as a source of entertainment.

  “TV isn’t dangerous,” he says after a moment. “There’s some messed up shit on there, but for the most part, it’s just something to do while you’re waiting for something better to come along.” When I don’t say anything, he reaches for the black phone-looking thing again. “I’ll show you. Just for five minutes. I promise you won’t die. Or get addicted. Or possessed.”

  “Okay,” I say, gripping my can tighter.

  This time when the TV comes on, I don’t look away. And I’m glad for it, because the first thing I see is a beautiful unicorn.

  “That looks just like Windshadow,” I say, pointing at the screen.

  Adam squints at me. “How do you know about this movie?”

  “It’s not a movie, it’s a book. That’s Windshadow and the girl riding him is Avryn.”

  “So you read this book?”

  Without thinking, I blurt, “It’s why I was flogged. I took it from a library.”

  His reaction is the same as Jacki and Serena’s. “They beat you over a stupid fucking book?!” His eyes blaze. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard!”

  “It was evil,” I say. “I exposed the community to wickedness.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s fucking fiction about fairies and shit!”

  “I know that now. Serena told me it wasn’t evil. But Elder Berman-”

  “Do you want to see the movie?” Adam interrupts.

  Shaking my head, I frown. “It’s not a movie. It’s a book.”

  “No, they made it into a movie. It just came out last weekend. It’s the same as the book, but instead of reading it, you watch it happen on a big TV screen. I’ll take you if you want to go.”

  I lift my can to my lips to buy myself time to think. A movie? They never mentioned movies in Shiloh. Only the dangers of television. And since I’ve already read the book, it wouldn’t matter anyway, would it? I wouldn’t be exposing myself to any more evil than what I’ve already done. If it were evil to begin with.

  “Okay,” I say finally. “When do we do this?”

  He smiles, exposing a shallow dimple in his left cheek and his eyes light up. “I’ll take you Wednesday night, okay?”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “It’s a date,” he says.

  Beth brings a stack of books to my room when I get home from my paper route. They’re all about science and history, like she promised.

  “Thank you,” I say, flipping through the glossy pages of a book called Earth Science.

  “You let me know if you want any other subjects.” She leans against the doorway. “Once you get started on those, you may come across something you want to know more about.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  For a moment, I consider asking for the rest of the books about Avryn and Hayze. But looking at the stack on my bed, I decide I should probably finish these first.

  I talk to Adam every day leading up to Wednesday. If I don’t see him during my paper route, we message each other on the phone. Sometimes both.

  He’s nothing like the sinner boys we were warned about in Shiloh. Adam is kind and funny and polite and he treats me with respect. That’s more than I can say for most of the boys I grew up with. When they weren’t ignoring me the way men are supposed to ignore women, they were making fun of my hair and freckles right alongside Naomi and her friends.

  I’m nervous as I slip into my chair at dinner on Tuesday night. I haven’t mentioned these visits and phone conversations to Beth or Holly. But if I want to go to the movie tomorrow with Adam, I’m going to have to ask permission from Beth.

  My throat is tight and my hand trembles as I reach for my glass of water.

  Never in my life would I dream of asking Mother for permission to do something like this. Beth is not Mother, I remind myself. And what I’m asking isn’t unheard of out here.

  “Alaina?”

  I look up at Beth and then at Holly, unsure of which one of them said my name. “Sorry. I was…” Not listening. How incredibly rude of me!

  “It’s okay,” Beth says. “Holly was just asking if you wanted to go with her to Teen Night at the church tomorrow.”

  “They’re having pizza,” Holly adds. “And some kind of water balloon thing.” She shrugs.

  “Tomorrow?” I glance between her and Beth again. “I, um…” My throat tightens again.

  Just say it! Beth is not Mother. Beth is not Mother!

  “I can’t,” I blurt. “I was invited somewhere. With someone.” I might throw up.

  Holly’s eyes narrow to slits. “Where, with who?”

  My heart pounds in my chest. My skin prickles uncomfortably. “To a movie. With Adam,” I whisper.

  Holly’s jaw drops. “Oh my God! She has a date!”

  My shoulders draw up to my ears and I stare at my plate of uneaten chicken, waiting for Beth to tell me no.

  When no one speaks for several long moments, I peek up. Beth is staring at me, a barely concealed smile on her lips.

  “That’s so unfair,” Holly finally says.

  “Why is that unfair?” Beth asks.

  Sighing, Holly says, “Because! It’s Adam! He hasn’t actually dated anyone since Brittany.” She stabs her chicken with her fork. “If you’re not counting that thing with Bree. And that girl from Dunwoody.”

  Beth turns to me, this time not trying to hide her smile. “I think it’s wonderful.”

  My head pops up. “I can go?”

  She nods. “Of course. Just make sure you take your phone. And call if you’ll be later than eleven.”

  My shoulders relax and I grin so hard, I can see the tops of my own cheeks.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ADAM

  I wake up to Dad and Christine having a fight on the stairs outside my room.

  I throw my sheets back and go to my door, whipping it open.

  “What. The. FUCK?!” I yell, startling Christine, who’s leaning over the top of the handrail to scream at Dad in the hallway below.

  “Go back to bed, Adam,” Dad says in his “authority” voice.

  “Yeah right. With you two screaming at each other in front of my door?” I glare at Christine. Her face is blotchy and her makeup is smeared from crying, making her look like a cracked-out cocker spaniel.

  “You should be up anyway,” she snaps. “It’s eleven in the morning!”

  “Who the hell died and made you boss?” I snarl.

  The corner of her mouth twitches and I realize my mistake. “Your mother,” she says, just loud enough for me to hear.

  I’m used to her bullshit. It barely stings anymore. Rolling my eyes, I step back toward my room and call down to Dad. “Why don’t you just divorce the bitch already? All she does is spend your money and fuck the pool guy occasionally.”

  He barges up the stairs, his finger in my face. “Don’t start! Get back in your room!”

  Christine rolls her shoulders back, sticking out her big, fake boobs. “How dare you?! I am a good wife! A faithful wife!”

  I smirk, “Yeah, whatever. Keep telling yourself that, crazy bitch.”

  She raises her hand to slap me. I brace for it, but Dad catches her arm. “Adam!” he shouts. “Go to your room!”

  Slamming the door behind me, I fall face down on my bed and imagine what life would be like if Mom never got in that car accident as I fall back asleep.

  My phone goes off, startling me awake a while later. It’s a text from Drew.

  I’m outside. Is it safe?

  I text back: I’ll let you in.

  Drew hates Christine as much as I do, but it’s because she gets all creepy cougar on him when Dad’s not around. Faithful wife, my ass.

  “I come bearing gifts,” Drew says when we’re safely in my room. He fishes a zip-lock bag of dark green bud out of the pocket in his cargo shorts.
r />   “Thank god,” I mutter, turning on the TV across from my bed before going to the window on the far wall and opening it. Down below, in the backyard, I watch Christine float around the pool on a raft while she cackles on her phone. I hope you drown, bitch.

  Fifteen minutes later we start playing Madden and I barely remember what happened this morning.

  I don’t smoke much. Especially after all that shit with Brittany sophomore year. On days like today, though, I always make an exception.

  By one o’clock, I’m starving. Sneaking downstairs, I check the driveway and the garage. Dad and Christine’s cars are gone.

  “All clear,” I shout up to Drew.

  He thunders down the stairs and we raid the fridge, eating everything that looks remotely edible.

  “You going to that youth group thing tonight?” Drew asks around a mouthful of ham and cheese sandwich.

  I shake my head, but it takes me a second to remember why I’m not going. “I’m taking Alaina to a movie.” Stoner paranoia grips me and my eyes dart to the clock on the stove: 1:11. I still have five hours to sober up and get ready.

  “That cult girl? Holly’s cousin?” Drew’s already squinty eyes narrow even further. “How’s that gonna work? She’ll never let you bang her, dude.”

  Scowling, I say, “I’m not trying to bang her.”

  Drew smirks. “She’s pretty hot if you can get past the fucked up clothes.” As an afterthought, he adds, “I’d bang her.”

  Dumping the crumbs in the bottom of the potato chip bag into my mouth, I wad it up. “You’d bang a hole in your mattress if you had enough lube.”

  He snorts. “No need. I’m pretty sure Holly is DTF.”

  I throw the chip bag at his face. It bounces off his forehead and lands in the bowl of ice cream he’s eating simultaneously with his sandwich. “Did you really just say DTF? Who says that?”

  He grins, digging a bite out of the bowl without removing the chip bag. “I say that.”

  I take a shower a while later, leaving Drew to smoke another bowl in my room. The hot water kills the rest of my buzz and by the time I’m getting dressed, I’m completely sober.

  “Hit this,” he says, holding the bowl out to me as I walk out of my bathroom and pull my shirt on.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “You think she’ll dress Amish? Maybe you should like, grow a beard real quick so y’all will match.” He laughs in that annoying, high-pitched stoner giggle.

  “Ain’t you supposed to be at that church thing in an hour?” I ask, scowling at him.

  He shrugs. “I got Visine. I’m good.” He’s still holding the bowl out to me.

  I take it from him and then hand it back without actually hitting it. Oblivious, he lights it and takes another hit.

  Dumbass.

  My palms are sweaty when I pull up in Alaina’s driveway. I wipe them on my jeans and get out of the car. It isn’t until I’m ringing the doorbell that I’m able to relax.

  Holly’s mom opens the door.

  “Hey Ms. Roberts. Is Alaina here?” Duh. Of course she is.

  She smiles. “Come on in. She’ll be down in just a minute.”

  I wait on the blue couch in the living room. I’ve only been here a few times. Every time, though, I wished I lived here. It’s comfortable. Inviting. Not like my house, where everything is imported and so expensive, you can’t really use it without Dad or Christine losing their shit. I once set a glass on the coffee table Dad had imported from Africa and it left a ring. I might as well have set the fucking thing on fire for as much shit as they gave me.

  Movement in the doorway catches my eye. Alaina hovers just outside the living room.

  “Go!” Holly hisses, shoving her forward.

  Alaina stumbles into the room and then gives me that tiny, shy smile of hers.

  She’s wearing jeans and a green plaid button-up shirt that fits her a lot better than most of the shirts she wears. And her hair is in two thick braids.

  “You look pretty,” I say, getting to my feet.

  Her cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink. “Thank you,” she says, staring at the floor.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  She nods and turns, heading into the hallway that leads to the front door.

  The whole way to the mall, she tells me how excited she is to see this movie and all about the characters. As soon as we get here, though, her demeanor changes. She’s quiet and stiff, just like when I first met her.

  “Relax,” I say as we weave through the shopping crowd.

  “I thought we were going to the movie,” she says, dodging a woman pushing a stroller.

  “We are. The theater is in the mall.”

  Her arm brushes against mine as we squeeze past a group of people taking up most of the walkway. “There are a lot of people here,” she mutters, moving an arm’s length away from me the moment she gets the chance.

  “It’s okay. As soon as we’re in the theater, you won’t even see them.”

  At the theater, we step up to the next open ticket window.

  “Hey! Grayson!” Bryce Pierson says from behind the glass.

  I forgot he worked here. Bryce is the world’s biggest tool.

  “Hey,” I say, hoping to get through this transaction without having to listen to him call me “Brah” a million times.

  “What’s up, Brah? What’re you watchin’?”

  I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and take out my card. “Two for that unicorn movie.”

  He eyes me, a smart-ass grin on his face. “You f’real, Brah?”

  “F’real,” I say, flipping my card into the tray under the glass.

  His eyes move to the left and land on Alaina, who’s thankfully not listening at all. She’s staring at a poster for some movie called Ragnarök, a Viking disaster movie. Hollywood must really be out of ideas.

  “Ohhhh,” he says, nodding. “I get you, Brah.” He swipes my card. “Just make sure you get at least a blowjob for sitting through such a bitch movie.”

  I scowl as he shoves my card and our tickets under the glass. “Fuck off, Brah.”

  Moving past the ticket counter, I hand Alaina her ticket. “Hold on to that. You’ll need it to get in.”

  She glances up at me. “Thank you. I didn’t know this was a bitch movie.”

  My eyes widen and I choke back a laugh, wondering if she knows what “bitch” means. “It’s not. Don’t listen to Bryce. He’s a dumbass.” I nod at the concession counter. “Candy?”

  Her eyes light up. “Yes!”

  Standing in line, Alaina rises up on her toes to see around the people in front of us. “They’re serving popcorn,” she says excitedly.

  “You like popcorn?” For some reason the thought of a bunch of cult members eating popcorn is hard to wrap my head around.

  She nods, her eyes still glued to the concession counter.

  Glancing around the lobby, I spot a familiar face emerging from the women’s bathroom. My stomach turns and for a moment, my lungs constrict. The first signs of a panic attack that only Brittany Patterson can bring on.

  I force myself to breathe and look away, focusing on Alaina who might as well be in line by herself, considering the space she keeps between us. Stepping closer to her, I lean down. “Hey, can you do me a huge favor?”

  She backs up. “Okay.”

  “That girl over there. The one in the shorts and boots.” I nod to the bathroom behind Alaina.

  She turns and looks before turning back to me, eyebrows pulled together. “What about her?”

  “That’s my ex-girlfriend. The guy that pulled us over last weekend is her dad. She’s…” How do I say this without sounding like a total dick? “Can you pretend that you really, really like me so she won’t come over here? I don’t want to talk to her.”

  Still scowling, Alaina shakes her head in confusion. “Adam, I do really, really like you.”

  I bite the inside of my lip ring to keep myself from grinning like an idiot. “Well, th
at works out then. I really, really like you too.”

  She smiles and that faint pink blush is back in her cheeks as her eyes drop to the floor. “So what do you want me to do?” she asks, still staring at the floor.

  Reaching for her, I lace my fingers between hers. “Nothing. Just stand next to me.”

  Even with Alaina’s hand in mine, Brittany walks over when she spots me.

  “Adam!” she says, grinning.

  I pull Alaina closer to my side. “Yup,” I say, not returning the smile.

  “Here to see a movie?” she asks.

  “Nah. I just like standing in lines.” I know I’m being an asshole, but this girl interprets the slightest kindness as flirtation.

  Brittany giggles. “You’re so funny.”

  Seriously?

  I squeeze Alaina’s hand and glance down at her. She looks up at me and then does the last thing I expect. She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder.

  It wouldn’t be a big deal if it were anyone else. But it’s Alaina and this is a huge gesture. This is like second base for her.

  “Oh,” Brittany says, one thin, reddish-brown eyebrow raised. “You’re with someone.”

  “This is Alaina,” I say.

  Brittany eyes her from head to toe.

  Alaina smiles at her but doesn’t say anything.

  “Love your blouse,” Brittany says, eyes narrowed.

  “And those are lovely boots,” Alaina replies.

  For a long, awkward moment, no one says anything. Brittany glares at Alaina and Alaina goes back to eyeing the concession counter with her head on my shoulder.

  “Adam,” Brittany finally says, still glaring at Alaina. “We should talk later. When you’re not busy.”

  I shake my head. “Nah. I’m good.”

  “Please,” she begs, gazing up at me. “Just for two minutes. Just hear me out.”

  “No,” I say, focusing on the menu board behind the counter.

  The cashier behind the concession counter calls out, “Next!”

  Alaina lifts her head and pulls me forward. “Come on!”

  I allow her to pull me away, leaving Brittany to stamp her foot and huff by herself.