Ezra had it so much worse than I did, and it had been particularly bad for him after his older brother, Jimmy, graduated last year. Jimmy had been his main source of protection in the past and it seemed the bullies were making up for lost time. If I was around, I tried to stick up for him, but we didn’t have many classes together.
“What’s wrong with you?” I seethed at AJ, squaring my shoulders.
His eyes narrowed, a scowl contorting a face that might have been handsome if the person behind it wasn’t so mean. “Me? I think you should ask yourself that question. Your own parents didn’t want you.”
Ah, the ‘you’re adopted’ insult. Cheap shot. Low blow. But I’d heard it so many times it didn’t even bother me anymore.
Apparently, Ezra didn’t feel the same.
With a roar, he lunged off the ground with a speed I’d never seen him use before. Since he was already low, he had the advantage of hitting AJ around the waist and they both went down with a grunt, backpacks exploding and books flying everywhere.
Abby shrieked, but I was too shocked to make a sound. Ezra never fought back. I’d never seen him resort to violence, even when the situation probably called for it.
My silence was short-lived.
I screamed when AJ quickly rolled them so he was on top, and his fist came down on Ezra’s face. He brought his arm up to pummel Ezra a second time.
“Stop!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, ready to pull AJ off if I had to. He would beat Ezra to a pulp if given the opportunity, and I couldn’t stomach the thought of that beautiful face marred and bruised.
“I suggest you get the fuck off him.” Gavin’s baritone voice echoed through the parking lot as he quickly advanced on the scene.
AJ scrambled to his feet. “He attacked me. It was self-defense.”
I knelt next to Ezra, little rocks digging into my knees through my jeans as I helped him gather the contents of his backpack. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he bit out, keeping his face turned away.
“Your golden years are just about over, asshole,” Gavin went on behind me. “The real world is going to chew you up and spit you back out.”
Looking over my shoulder, I saw AJ walking forward until their chests were almost touching. Well, not exactly touching. Gavin was so tall that the top of AJ’s head barely made it to his shoulder. He had zero sense of self-preservation.
Things were about to get ugly.
“Go ahead and hit me,” AJ taunted. “And make sure you leave a mark. I’d love it if you got suspended right now. Slug is lucky he’s too weak to hurt me, or else I’d tell. Do you realize they wouldn’t let you walk across the stage at graduation if you assaulted me on school grounds? I wonder what your hoity-toity parents would think about that?”
Crap. He was right, and Gavin was probably too pissed off to care.
“Might be worth it,” Gavin shot back, confirming my fear. “You wouldn’t be much good to your college baseball team with a busted arm. Didn’t you get a scholarship?”
AJ’s eyes widened at the clear threat, but he stood his ground. “Yeah. Not all of us have parents who can shell out thirty grand a year.”
“Stop.” I shouldered my way between them and attempted to push my best friend away. He didn’t budge, but AJ was smart enough to back down.
“Speaking of my hoity-toity parents, don’t even think about showing up to my party tomorrow night,” Gavin growled. “You’d be trespassing on my property. I’m sure my parents would be proud to hear that I used any means necessary to keep you from breaking and entering.”
AJ’s eyes flitted down to Gavin’s giant fists. Abby looked stricken at the thought of being exiled from the best graduation party in town, but if her boyfriend didn’t go, she probably wouldn’t either.
They wouldn’t be missed.
“Fuck you,” AJ spat. “I wasn’t planning on coming anyway.”
Kicking gravel in our direction, he left, taking Abby with him.
“Prick,” Gavin muttered as he stomped back to his truck.
My eyes searched for Ezra, but he was gone. Scanning the parking lot, I spotted him a good distance away, limping toward his car. I followed after him.
“Wait! Ezra, wait.”
“I have to get home,” he said gruffly, panting hard from trying to get away so fast. His limp was worse than usual.
“Did you hurt your leg?”
Letting out a humorless chuckle, he tried to speed up. “It’s not any worse off than my pride.”
“Can you slow down a second? I just—” I softly placed my hand on his arm and he shuffled to a stop. Pained eyes locked with mine, and my fingers squeezed around the fabric of his sweatshirt. Then I saw the blood on his lip. “Oh my God, you’re bleeding.” I dug around in the front pocket of my backpack and pulled out a handkerchief. I handed it to him. “Here.”
Dabbing at the corner of his mouth, he said, “Thanks.” Then he pulled the fabric away and studied it. “Did you just give me an embroidered hanky?”
“Yeah.” I waved my hand, embarrassed. “You can keep it though. I went through a cross stitch phase where I wanted to put my name on things, but it was a bust. As you can see, I spelled my last name wrong. By the time I realized I forgot the ‘Y’, I was already at the ‘O’ and just decided to finish the damn thing.”
A smirk quirked up on his swelling lips. “Your middle name is Jean?”
Flustered, I held out my palm. “You can give it back if you don’t want it.”
His fist tightened around the material.
“I’ll keep it. It’s already got my blood on it,” he said, reminding me that he was injured.
“Why did you do that?” I asked, motioning to the area where shit had gone down with AJ.
“I should’ve done it a long time ago.” His face darkened. “I didn’t like the things he said to you.”
“It’s not like I haven’t heard it before. You got hurt, and I’m not worth it.”
“Yes, you are,” he responded, so full of conviction I almost believed it. “It’s not the first time I’ve taken a punch to the face. Just the first time I’ve ever initiated it, and I’m not sorry.”
“I want you to come to the party tomorrow night,” I blurted out. Not my smoothest moment, but it got the job done.
A confused crease formed between Ezra’s eyebrows. “You don’t have to give me a pity invite.”
“It’s not a pity invite. I really want you to come.”
“You want me there?”
“Yes, and I won’t take maybe for an answer.” Crossing my arms and tipping my head up, I gave him a cheeky grin. “Please?”
He smiled a little. “Okay.”
“Okay? Really? Promise me.”
“Promise. If you want me there, I’ll be there.”
“I want you there,” I said, and the sadness in his eyes melted away.
Adjusting his backpack, he sent me a real smile and I watched him until he made it to his old blue Honda. My feet stayed planted there until he zipped away, rounding the football field and turning left onto the road that would take him exactly 1.3 miles to his house.
Was it stalkerish that I knew the exact distance to him from pretty much everywhere in town? Probably.
Did I care? Not really, because it wasn’t like he’d ever know.
And I’d definitely never tell him that sometimes I found myself driving by his house, even if it was out of my way. That I knew which upstairs window belonged to his bedroom. That I imagined tossing rocks at that window, just like they did in the movies.
But this wasn’t a movie. Friends weren’t going to become lovers. The odd duck wasn’t going to get the boy.
I let out a sad sigh.
On the way to Gavin’s truck, I passed the place where Ezra had fallen and spied a notebook on the ground.
Not a notebook—a sketchbook.
I recognized the green front immediately. Ezra kept this thing with him like a security blanket, constant
ly doodling in it when the teachers weren’t paying attention.
Picking it up, curiosity got the best of me and I peeked inside.
The first thing I saw was… me. A drawing of me, so life-like I almost thought it was a photo. I knew Ezra was talented at art, but I didn’t realize he was this good at drawing people.
No wonder he got a scholarship to McAdams. It was a private university that had a great reputation for fine arts, and it wasn’t cheap. Although my major was still undecided, it was a great school for any degree.
My parents had wanted me to attend McAdams for two reasons. One, it was close to home, just a short forty-five minute drive away. And two, sentimental reasons. They’d met at law school there and had been together ever since.
And I couldn’t complain for two reasons of my own—they were paying for it, and Ezra was going to be there.
Gawking at the sketch, I was completely lost in it as I headed to Gavin’s truck. I opened the passenger side door and hopped up into the seat.
“Damn. Did Ezra leave that behind?”
I snapped the book shut before Gavin could see what was inside. “Yeah. I’ll give it back to him at the party.”
“You got him to agree to come? That’s awesome.” A genuine smile spread over his face, going from the growly grizzly he’d just been to the teddy bear I really knew him to be.
Distracted, I nodded.
I was quiet on the short ride home, because all I could think about was how badly I wanted to go through Ezra’s sketchbook.
I knew I should’ve left it alone. It was his personal property, after all.
If the drawing I’d seen on the first page had been something like trees, an object of some kind, or a comic… I wouldn’t have been so damn tempted to snoop.
But that was my face in there.
I had to know why.
Giving Gavin an absentminded goodbye, I raced into my house, dumped my bookbag on the floor by the couch, and ran up the stairs with Ezra’s most prized possession.
My sneakers thundered on the hardwood floors of the hall, and I violently kicked them off before hurriedly slamming my bedroom door.
Sinking down onto my soft floral quilt, I sprawled out on my stomach, the bed creaking as I got comfortable. I bit my lip, flipping the sketchbook open, my heart pounding so fast I couldn’t catch my breath.
As I studied the first page, I recognized the younger version of myself. There was no date, but I knew it was the first day of high school because after that day I started straightening my hair. I remembered Ezra and how his kind, yet sad eyes were a beacon of hope among the sneers and whispers. He’d looked so beat down that I’d temporarily forgotten about the things everyone had said about my parents and my odd appearance.
At the bottom of the sketch, I realized there was writing. My eyes widened at the short message written for me.
Dear Kayla,
Today is the best and worst day of my life. The best, because I found out love at first sight really does exist. The worst, because I had to watch someone else be your hero.
“Oh my God,” I whispered as I turned to the next page. “No fucking way.”
Another portrait of me.
The next.
Another.
And another.
Sometimes smiling, sometimes serious. One with a drawing of just my lips. One with just my eyes. Hair up in a ponytail. Hair down. My profile.
No detail was spared. Every angle of my face was explored.
Flipping the pages was like seeing my life illustrated, the past four years documented on paper. The further I got, the more I aged in the images. My cheekbones became more prominent, my lips fuller, my makeup skills better.
The sketchbook told me everything—Ezra was more than a little obsessed with me.
And that sent a thrill through me that was so strong, I actually shuddered.
I might’ve found it creepy if I wasn’t equally obsessed with him. And I was so unbelievably flattered. The girl in the pictures was far more elegant than I ever considered myself to be. Was this how Ezra saw me?
I sifted through more sketches. Some had letters or short messages on them, some didn’t.
To hell with crossing lines. I had to see them all. Every single one.
I stopped on one that was dated Valentine’s Day from our junior year. My face was downturned, smiling into a bouquet of white roses I’d gotten from Gavin.
My eyes dropped to the bottom of the page.
Dear Kayla,
I wish I could be the one giving you flowers today, but I had to settle for the Secret Crush Candy Box again. Even though it’s not me who put that smile on your face, I’m glad you have someone to make you happy. You deserve it.
My jaw fell open. Ezra was the one who kept getting me the secret admirer gift? Every year our school held a Valentine’s Day fundraiser where students could anonymously purchase a $5 box of candy and give it to their crushes, significant others, or friends.
I’d given Gavin such a hard time for lying to me about it when he said it wasn’t him. But now I realized he’d been telling the truth.
More sketches. More words of admiration, love, and respect. I stopped on one with my hair in a fancy up-do, a wistful smile on my face. The senior homecoming dance.
I was confused. Ezra hadn’t been there that night. In fact, he never came to any of the school’s social events.
Dear Kayla,
I showed up just to see you dance. I hadn’t planned on coming, but at the last minute I dressed up in my best slacks and sweater, bought a ticket at the door, and stayed just long enough to see you having the time of your life. Your smile said it all.
And, man, you were so beautiful in your sparkly green dress. I didn’t have to get a closeup to know it brought out your eyes. I felt like a creep lurking in the shadows under the bleachers, but I don’t regret a second of tonight.
P.S. Abby shouldn’t have won homecoming queen. It should’ve been you up there wearing the crown.
A few lines from Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” were scribbled below. I remembered this exact moment from that night. I’d been swaying with Gavin, wishing it was Ezra in front of me.
I pressed a hand to my chest. God, my heart hurt. He’d been suffering for years.
Wanting to be with me.
Watching me with someone else.
Wishing nothing but good things for me.
That last one was the kicker. Most people would’ve been resentful, envious, or angry. But all Ezra wanted was for me to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.
I didn’t even realize I was crying until a wet drop splashed onto the paper. Quickly blotting it with my quilt, I made sure there was no damage to the note.
Tears continued to trickle down my cheeks as I came to the last one, with today’s date scribbled in the top righthand corner.
Dear Kayla,
Of all the awesome things in this world, you’re my favorite. You’ve been my motivation for getting up every day. You’re the reason I have perfect attendance at this damn school. Even if I felt like crap, staying at home to rest wasn’t worth missing a glimpse of you.
I’m addicted to your happiness. Watching you shine and succeed these past few years have been the best times of my life. Maybe it’s weird, but all your victories felt like they were mine too.
Thousands of my smiles belong to you, and you’re the owner of my heart. Some days I feel like it beats just for you.
I wish I could tell you these things, but I can’t. I wish I could show you this letter, but I won’t. More than anything, I wish you the best… and I just wish I could be the one to give it to you.
The beautiful words shredded my heart. This letter sounded way too much like a final farewell. Like he was letting me go, when he never even had me in the first place.
It was so sad.
I flipped it over to find my face, eyes pressed shut from laughing so hard. The sentence beneath it twisted the knife.
You’re my fa
vorite.
Being careful not to wrinkle any of the papers, I gently shut the sketchbook. Then I hugged it to my chest and sobbed, being battered by an array of emotions.
As much as I hurt for Ezra, I was happy and relieved too. All this time I thought my feelings toward him were unrequited when the truth was, he wanted to be with me.
But we’d lost so much time.
If only he’d told me how he felt… It would’ve changed everything.
I ached at the thought of what could’ve been.
It could’ve been him giving me roses on Valentine’s Day. Us sitting together at the football games. Holding hands in the hallway. Snuggled up on a Saturday night. Movies. Kissing. Touching.
We could’ve had it all.
I had to talk to Ezra about this. It wasn’t too late for us, and now I had the confidence to finally go after what I wanted.
Wracking my brain, I tried to think of when I’d have the opportunity to get him alone.
Then I remembered the graduation party tomorrow night. He promised he’d come.
I just had to hope he’d actually show up.
I’d never been inside Gavin’s house before. It was on the east side of town in one of the newer subdivisions, and it was huge. Fancy didn’t even begin to describe the elegant brick home, decked out in so much shiny shit, my eyes didn’t know where to focus.
I cringed when someone’s cup overflowed at the keg and beer splattered onto the pristine marble floors of the kitchen.
Forcing myself to take a few gulps from my cup, I tried not to gag. Beer tasted like shit. Literally like stale bread soaked in piss, but I choked some more down anyway.
I hadn’t planned on drinking at the party, but being in a social setting surrounded by peers who were basically strangers put me on edge. Add in the fact that the football team was insisting on picture time that I wasn’t included in, drowning my anxiety seemed like a pretty good idea.
Gavin leaned down so his head was closer to Kayla’s height for a selfie. With her being under five-foot-two—even with shoes on—the size difference between them was comical. Gavin was well over six and a half feet tall, and her head barely made it to his rib cage.
OUTCAST: A Good Guys Novel Page 3
