OUTCAST: A Good Guys Novel

Home > Other > OUTCAST: A Good Guys Novel > Page 4
OUTCAST: A Good Guys Novel Page 4

by Jamie Schlosser


  My fist clenched around my plastic cup.

  I’d be a better fit for her. We’d look better together.

  That optimistic thought was gone in an instant though, because it might’ve been true until we started walking. Well, she’d walk and I’d limp.

  The bright flash of the camera went off. Laughter filled the living room to the right. Cheering from the beer pong tournament in the dining room on the left made me wince.

  I chugged the rest of my beer.

  I’d just gotten here five minutes ago and I was already finishing my second drink.

  My experience with alcohol was limited. As in, I’d never had it before. Slowing down was probably a good idea.

  Walking over to the keg a few feet away, I told myself I’d only have one more. Just as I finished pouring the frothy liquid into the red cup, Kayla’s sweet voice made me turn.

  “Hey, you made it!” Bouncing on her feet, she smiled at me like a kid on Christmas morning. Like I hung the moon. Like I was the center of her world.

  I shook my head, because obviously I was seeing things.

  So this is what beer goggles is? Damn. This is some good shit.

  I took another swig.

  “I’m so glad you came,” she breathed out, awkwardly clasping her hands before wrapping her arms around my middle.

  Hugging me.

  Kayla was hugging me, her head against my chest. And I forgot to be self-conscious about the extra weight I carried around my midsection. Forgot that there were dozens of people around probably wondering what the hell she was doing.

  I simply enjoyed being close to her.

  I rubbed a hand over her shoulder, and my fingertips trailed down the soft skin on her back exposed by the tank top she was wearing. Wrapping my arm all the way around her waist, I returned the embrace and dipped my head until her hair tickled my nose.

  The music was loud, but I could’ve sworn I heard her let out a content sigh.

  “How much have you had to drink?” I chuckled. Fuck, she smelled amazing. Like warm sugar.

  “Zero.” She shook her head, stepping back. “I’m DD tonight.” Her eyes fell to my cup, then back up to my face. “Did you drive?”

  I nodded.

  A bright expression lit up her face. “Looks like I’ll be taking you home then.”

  A few sophomore girls started dancing on the wooden coffee table in the living room, trying to put on a show for the guys sitting on the couch. Kayla and I were shoved out of the way when some of the football guys held one of their teammates upside down on the keg as they shouted, “Keg stand!”

  With my hand on her lower back, I guided Kayla over to the back door so we didn’t get kicked in the face.

  “Are these parties always like this?” I asked, taking another drink.

  “Pretty much.” Pursing her lips, she studied me. “This isn’t really your scene, huh?”

  I just shrugged because no, I didn’t belong here, but she did. I could endure a night of partying for her.

  She sighed. “I’m not gonna lie—you look absolutely miserable right now.”

  That made me smile a little. “Just a lot of new stuff to take in.”

  “You wanna get out of here?”

  “Oh, uhh…” She wanted me to leave already? Was I that socially awkward? I tried to hide my frown. “Yeah, you know, give me a few minutes to sober up and I’ll go.”

  Giggling, she nudged my arm. “I meant just you and me.”

  Surprised, my eyebrows went up. I had no idea why she’d want to leave the party to hang out with me, but my thoughts were hazy enough that I didn’t question it.

  My head bobbed up and down, eager at the thought of being alone with her.

  “Come on.” Kayla grabbed the sleeve of my sweatshirt and tugged me out the sliding glass door.

  I set my half-full cup on the patio table and tried to ignore the couple making out in the pool.

  Sending me a grin, Kayla slowed down to a pace that was comfortable for me as we traipsed through the grass. I loved it when she did that, and she did it often. Always making sure I wasn’t left behind.

  Then we were out the backyard gate, leaving the party, and getting into her black Prius.

  Fiddling with the radio, she turned to me. “You like a little bit of everything, right? But you’re kind of into punk right now?”

  I nodded, unable to keep the grin off my face because she remembered my music preference.

  After searching a few stations, she reached up to an older-looking CD holder attached to the visor and picked a disc. A few seconds later, “Crushcrushcrush” by Paramore pumped through the car.

  Smiling over at me, Kayla backed out of Gavin’s driveway and slowly maneuvered her car through the street that was packed with vehicles. “I know you like Green Day better, but I don’t own anything by them.”

  “This is good, too.” Honestly, I didn’t care what she put on the radio. I would’ve listened to cats howling “Jingle Bells” if it meant I got to spend time with her.

  We took the long way back to my house, heading in the opposite direction until we reached the outskirts of town.

  Kayla rolled the windows down and her straightened hair went wild. I liked it best when she left it curly, but she was beautiful no matter what.

  I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or simply the wonder of the moment, but a burst of pure happiness spread through my veins like a drug.

  The backroad we were on was nearly deserted, with a couple farmhouses on one side and beanfields on the other.

  My dream girl sat to my left and an endless number of stars lit up the sky to my right.

  Strangely, it felt like a date. It was probably just the beer goggles fooling me, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to soak it up for as long as I could.

  And the liquid courage made me bolder than usual.

  “Can I ask you something? It’s kinda personal.”

  “Yeah, you can ask me anything.” She made quick glances at me, then back at the road. She licked her lips, almost as if she was anticipating something big.

  And fuck me, those lips.

  Focus, Ezra. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

  “What made you move here?” I asked. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion, so I explained, “This is a small town and people aren’t very openminded. What I mean is, it couldn’t have been easy with your parents being… and with you being…”

  “My parents being gay and me being weird-looking?” she filled in with a laugh.

  I shook my head, because the words weren’t coming out right. “No, weird-looking has negative implications, and that’s definitely not a good description of you.”

  “Awesome. So now that we’ve established that I’m ‘not negative-looking’—”

  “Fuck.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Sorry, that was offensive. I’ve had too much to drink.”

  She laughed. “I’m totally messing with you, Ezra. Go ahead—ask anything.”

  “I’m just wondering why you chose Heyworth.”

  “Well, my dad—” she began to explain, then paused. “I guess I need to be more specific. John—the tall, skinny one—he was from here. His grandpa raised him, but they had a falling out of sorts after college when he came out of the closet. They didn’t talk for a long time.”

  “That really sucks,” I stated plainly.

  “Yeah. But they were still family. When his grandpa was dying we moved here so he could be close to him, even though my parents’ law firm is thirty minutes away. When Arthur passed on, I was already halfway through freshman year, so we decided to stay.”

  “You keep saying ‘his grandpa.’ You didn’t consider him your family?”

  “Arthur Reynolds wasn’t a nice man.” Her lips thinned. “He never cared for me much and he refused to acknowledge John’s marriage to Rob. In his eyes, we weren’t a real family.”

  “Shitty,” I commented, and she made a sound of agreement.

  “John and
Rob had a commitment ceremony in 1997, but they weren’t legally married until 2003. Even then, their marriage wasn’t federally recognized. Technically, Rob didn’t become my guardian on paper until a few years ago. When they adopted me, John had to do it as a single parent.”

  I was baffled. “They wouldn’t let Rob adopt you too? That’s fucked up.”

  “It’s complicated. It could’ve slowed the process down if they both wanted to be my legal guardian. John was smart about it. After all, he practices family law.” She shrugged, because this was the reality she’d grown up with. Old news to her, but this kind of discrimination was completely new to me. “They were just lucky my birth parents picked them through the agency. It didn’t matter what a piece of paper said. I was theirs.”

  “Wow.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  Kayla had talked about her parents before, but never in depth. Never this personal.

  Marriage equality wasn’t something I’d given much thought to, but it seemed wrong that two people would have to face so much just to be together. As if relationships weren’t hard enough. They had so many outside forces against them and they made it work. They created a family and a home, regardless of what anyone else thought was right.

  “This is the world we live in,” Kayla continued. “You know, we grow up being taught today’s society is so advanced and progressive… but we have a long way to go. Sixty years ago, you and I wouldn’t have been able to get married. Not that you p-proposed or anything,” she stuttered out with a cough, waving a hand dismissively through the air like she could distract me with the frantic movement. It was cute. “Hypothetically. I meant because you’re white. And I’m sort of not. Well, I might be kind of white. I just don’t know. But I’m getting one of those DNA tests done, so I’ll find out soon.”

  She ended her long-winded rambling by running a hand over her face and muttering something about being a spaz.

  If I’d thought she couldn’t get any cuter, I was wrong. Because flustered Kayla? Fucking adorable.

  “I think you’re perfect just the way you are,” I said seriously, which seemed to only make her even more rattled.

  “Thanks.” With one hand on the wheel, she twirled a lock of her straight hair around a finger, then let it go over and over again. She always did that when she was agitated or nervous.

  I decided to have mercy on her and steer the subject away from our hypothetical marriage. I briefly wondered why she didn’t use her and Gavin as an example, but quickly dismissed the image of her walking down the aisle to someone else. Because fuck that.

  “Rob still has a different last name,” I said, thinking of the law firm her parents owned together—Reynolds and Walsh. “Why? Are they afraid people might not hire them if they know they’re together?”

  “Yeah, sort of. They tried to keep it quiet for a long time, but it’s worked out in their favor. After word got around about their sexual orientation, a lot of people from the LGBT community wanted to hire John. He’s handled a lot of same-sex couple adoption cases in the past several years.”

  “I’m glad they’re your parents,” I told her honestly. “And that you decided to come to Heyworth.”

  That made her smile. “Me too.”

  The good buzz I’d had started to wear off as Kayla turned right when she should’ve gone left. It occurred to me that she didn’t know where I lived and she was just driving around until I gave her directions.

  “My house is that way, actually.” I pointed behind us.

  She grinned. “I know.”

  “Oh.” I grinned back.

  Looked like I’d get to experience another first—country cruising.

  Pleasantly surprised, I relaxed back in the seat as Kayla continued driving on that backroad until the town lights became tiny in the distance.

  We made small talk about less serious things, like the weather and how warm it’d been. Even now, at night, the air was a balmy eighty degrees and I was sweating under all my layers.

  I told her about Jimmy and how he’d flunked out of his first year at Ohio State. How pissed my parents were and how they’d shipped him off to Grandma Beverly’s house for the summer as penance. We had a good laugh at the thought of my hellion brother cleaning toilets and washing all my grandma’s housecoats.

  By the time we made it back to my house, I was completely sober and the clock on the dash said it was after 10 p.m.

  Earlier, I’d dreaded going to the party, almost deciding to back out a couple times. But what was supposed to be a wild, possibly awkward evening ended up being one of the best memories out of my entire high school experience.

  “Thanks for inviting me to the party.” I turned toward Kayla. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

  “Me too.”

  “And I owe you one for the ride. I’ll come get my car in the morning.” I let out an amused snort. “It’ll be fun explaining that one to my parents.”

  Although, they’d probably just be glad I got out of the house for once. Compared to my brother, I was a saint and they wouldn’t care if I drank a little.

  Just as my hand wrapped around the door handle, Kayla spoke.

  “Wait.”

  When I glanced back at her, she was white-knuckling the steering wheel and she had a funny expression on her face. One I’d never seen before. Most of the time Kayla seemed so confident, but insecurity seeped from her as she anxiously nibbled at her bottom lip.

  “Do you—” She took a deep breath. “Do you ever have regrets about things? Like, in hindsight you feel like you should’ve been able to see something so obvious? Like maybe you should’ve tried harder and—”

  “Hey,” I said gently. Concerned, I leaned toward her because she was obviously upset about something. “You can talk to me. I’m a good listener. What’s wrong?”

  Hesitating, her eyes flicked down to my lips and she licked her own.

  At first, I thought she was looking at the split in my lip from the fight. The swelling had gone down, and the redness was almost unnoticeable.

  But maybe I was drunker than I thought, because the moment suddenly became charged. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Seconds ticked by as I waited for her to say something.

  Why was she looking at me like that?

  Her fists left the steering wheel as she turned in the seat.

  Staying focused on my mouth, she swayed toward me. Eyes closing. Lips parted. The middle console creaked as her face almost collided with mine.

  Before any contact could be made, I backed away, flattening myself against the passenger door. “What are you doing?”

  I already knew the answer to that question. I wasn’t that naïve. I’d never kissed anyone before, but I sure as hell knew what it looked like when someone was going for it.

  What I should’ve asked was, why? Why would she want that from me?

  The look of rejection on her face made me want to take the question back. To give her anything she wanted from me. To just fucking kiss her already.

  Instead, I blurted, “You have a boyfriend, Kayla.”

  “It’s not what you think—”

  “A boyfriend who’s built like a brick shithouse,” I continued. I’d had the crap kicked out of me enough. The last thing I needed was Gavin coming after me.

  But even as I gave the excuse, I knew that wasn’t why I was saying no. If kissing Kayla meant getting my ass kicked, I’d gladly take that beating.

  No, the real reason was that I couldn’t stand the thought of finally finding out what it would be like to kiss her, while knowing she didn’t really belong to me.

  But I still ran with my first statement. “Listen, Gavin’s been good to me, and I don’t want to get on his bad side. He’s stood up for me more times than I can count, and it would be pretty shitty of me to make a move on his girl.”

  “I’m not his girl,” she responded, exasperated.

  Oh. Maybe she and Gavin were splitting up and she was feeling vulnerable. Everyon
e knew he got accepted to UCLA, and they probably wouldn’t be seeing each other for a long time.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with you guys, but you could have anyone,” I told her. “Don’t waste your rebound on me.”

  “This isn’t a rebound.”

  She pulled something out from under her seat and set it on the middle console. Then she glanced away.

  I felt the blood drain from my face. My sketchbook. The one I hadn’t realized was missing. The one I’d kept for the past four years—not for art class—just for me. The damn thing was more like a diary. Every secret, every thought, my entire heart… they were between the pages.

  “How did you get this?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

  “It must’ve fallen out of your backpack yesterday in the parking lot.”

  “Did you look inside?”

  Biting her nail Kayla nodded, but she still wouldn’t look at me.

  “How many of them did you see?” I demanded, my voice coming out harsh, my heart pounding, my breaths quick from panic. When she didn’t answer right away, I asked again, quieter this time. “How many?”

  “All of them,” she answered guiltily.

  “Fuck.” I scrubbed a hand over my face, wishing this was a dream. That I’d wake up and realize Kayla hadn’t seen directly into my pathetic heart.

  My love for art had started at a young age. During my long recovery from the surgeries on my leg, it was the one constant I had to keep me company. I hadn’t been great at reading yet, and the same TV shows got old. Art didn’t require physical activity and it became an escape for me.

  I lived vicariously through pictures and colors. On paper, anything was possible. I could draw castles and kings and super heroes. Like an addiction, crayons were my gateway medium. They led to watercolors and then to oil paints.

  As I got older, graphite pencils became my drug of choice because they were easy to carry at all times. Since my sketchbook closely resembled a notebook, I could get away with drawing in school during class.

  I’d found solace between the flat, blank sheets, settling for a two-dimensional fantasy world.

  In so many ways, art had saved me.

  And now my salvation had just bitten me in the ass.

 

‹ Prev