OUTCAST: A Good Guys Novel

by Jamie Schlosser

  “If it makes you feel better, I’ll have a present for you next time I see you.”

  “I’m looking forward to that,” I told her. “More than you could possibly know.”

  “I guess you’re probably missing a lot of things, huh?”

  I missed her the most, but I didn’t say that. “Yeah. This program might be kind of awful, but I have to admit my leg has gotten better and it’s only been a month.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week. Hey, thanks for the drawing, by the way,” she chirped. “I framed it and everything. Is it kind of narcissistic to keep a picture of myself on my nightstand?”

  “Nah, not when it’s a work of art.” Chuckling, I tried to picture her bedroom. I’d never seen the inside of it—I’d only driven by several dozen times and creeped on the window I knew was hers. “Do you have that quilt on your bed? The one from your photo album?”

  “You bet your ass. Two hundred and fifty dollars, Ezra. Nineteen months of fighting with my sewing machine. I’m taking it to my grave.”

  I barked out a loud laugh, then tried to quiet down. “I should probably get going before someone comes looking for me. I’m on potato-peeling duty tonight in the mess hall.”

  “All right,” she sighed sadly, and my heart squeezed. “Send me another letter soon. And have fun, okay?”

  “I’ll try. And I’m really glad you called.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Bye, Kayla.”

  “Bye.”

  Setting the white phone down, I thought about all the things I’d wanted to say but didn’t. That she was my motivation here. That I was determined to be the best version of myself for her. That I missed her so much it hurt.

  “Johnson!” Trey bellowed from the hallway before he appeared, his gigantic arms crossed over his chest. With the short haircut and ridiculously square jaw, he could’ve been mistaken for John Cena any day of the week. “Did you get that scheduling conflict worked out?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Let’s get back to it,” he responded, the corners of his lips twitching.

  Yeah, he definitely knew that was a fake call.

  As I got up from the chair, I was pleasantly surprised again at the differences in my leg. The painful stiffness I’d suffered from in the past had improved and my limp wasn’t as prominent.

  “Johnson,” Trey said after I made it out the doorway. I turned, and he gave me a smile. “This morning at weigh-in, the scale said you’d lost fifteen pounds.”

  “That’s right.” I nodded, almost unable to believe it. I hadn’t seen my weight that low since 7th grade. I’d shed three inches around my waist and I was starting to see muscle definition in my arms.

  “Keep up the good work. I’m proud of you.”

  A warm feeling spread through my chest, because I was proud of me, too.

  Maybe the John Cena look-a-like wasn’t so bad after all.

  July 4th

  Dear Kayla,

  This is going to be a short letter because I’m about to fall asleep. I had such a great day. All the trainers put together a big Independence Day party for us. We had a cookout in the courtyard, went swimming in the lake, and watched fireworks. The best part? They surprised us with a family day. My parents came to see me, and it was so great. I really needed this. The only thing that would’ve made it better is if you were here.

  -Ezra

  July 12th

  Dear Ezra,

  This letter will be kind of short, too. I’m writing this during my lunch break at work, but John has a big court case coming up soon, so I have a lot of organizing to do. That’s so awesome about the 4th of July party! We didn’t do much here. We just sat on the back patio and watched from where they set them off on the football field.

  Write back soon!

  Kayla

  July 18th

  Dear Kayla,

  Sorry for another short letter, but I spent my free time this evening drawing in the courtyard. I don’t usually draw landscapes, and my graphite pencil doesn’t do it justice… but I tried my best to capture the sunset over the lake. The scenery here is amazing. Right as the sun sank below the horizon, the clouds turned the most beautiful shade of dark amber. It reminded me of your hair.

  -Ezra

  July 26th

  Dear Ezra,

  Guess what… I have cool news! My DNA results came back. Are you ready for this?

  *Drumroll please*

  I’m 34% Native American and 29% Irish. The rest of the regions are a mix of European, West Africa, and Scandinavia. Can you believe it? So random, right? I guess I shouldn’t be shocked. All my life, people have looked at me like they’re trying to solve a puzzle. They’ve always asked me what I am.

  What am I? Who am I? Now I have a piece to that puzzle, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

  And in just a few weeks, we’ll be college students. In the grand scheme of things, that’s not a long time, but it feels like I’ve been waiting forever. I wish I could speed time up so I could see you.

  -Kayla

  P.S. I loved the sunset drawing so much! I’m going to frame this one, too.

  August 4th

  Dear Kayla,

  I have a confession to make. Several confessions, actually. I miss you. There, I said it. The summers have always sucked because I didn’t have a reason to see you. Waiting so long for school to start back up was torture of the worst kind. Now I’m experiencing a different kind of torture. Knowing you’re back home and that I could hang out with you or take you on dates has made being here harder. But as awful as this summer has been, I wish I’d done something like this sooner. My leg has improved so much. You’re a big part of that. During the times when the pain became too much, all I had to do was think of you to get me through it.

  Another confession. As for your last letter… I’m glad you finally got the answers you were looking for. That’s an interesting combination for sure, and I know finding out your heritage meant a lot to you. But you know what? It didn’t matter to me. It never has. Who are you? I’ve got a simple answer for that. You’re the only one who’s ever had my heart.

  Last confession. In recent weeks, I’ve accomplished things I never thought I’d do. Yesterday I ran a quarter of a mile without stopping. That might not seem like a lot, but considering I couldn’t even walk that far in the past, it’s pretty damn amazing. I can swim laps. I can even bench press now. All these things made me happy, proud, and put me on a high from the adrenaline rush. But of all the great things that happened to me this summer…

  You’re still my favorite.

  Love,

  Ezra

  “Mom? Dad?” I called out as the front door closed behind me.

  Damn, it was good to be home.

  Walking into my house after two months of long days and lonely nights was awesome. I didn’t even realize how much I’d missed it until I smelled my mom’s meatloaf.

  But walking in stronger, thirty pounds lighter, and without a limp? That was indescribable.

  I earned this. I’d worked hard for it. All the pain and time being away had been totally worth it.

  Kicking off my shoes, I paused in the entryway as I studied a new picture on the wall.

  It was Jimmy and me at my graduation, his dark hair a contrast to my light as we stood side by side. I was wearing my navy-blue gown, and Jimmy’s tattooed arm was slung around my shoulders. We couldn’t have been more different, but our bond ran deep. Less than a year apart in age, we grew up more like twins and we’d never gone this long without seeing each other.

  A flicker of disappointment flared through me, because he wasn’t back from Illinois yet. From what Mom and Dad had said during our last phone conversation, he and the girl he’d been dating there were getting pretty serious.

  But I was happy for him. And I knew he’d be happy for me, too.

  I couldn’t wait to show him the drastic improvements I’d made for myself.

 
The glass reflected my new appearance, and I studied my much-slimmer face for a second. I still wasn’t used to that. Sometimes when I looked in the mirror, I expected to see the person I used to be.

  I was a new man now.

  “We’re in the kitchen,” Mom announced.

  Grinning, I followed her voice, passing the old green couch in the living room.

  Hundreds of memories assaulted me as I ran my hand over the ribbed fabric. Eating dinner as a family with our TV trays in front of Jeopardy and Seinfeld reruns. Jimmy and me watching cartoons. Rough-housing until Dad yelled at us to knock it off. Daydreaming about Kayla. Sketching her face until my hand cramped.

  The familiar sound of Mom humming a random tune as she cooked drew me closer to the kitchen.

  “I made your favorite dinner, and I even used the extra lean turkey meat instead of the—” Her sentence cut off with a gasp as soon as I made it through the doorway. “Ezra.” Tears filled her eyes. Hands covered her mouth. “You look—you’re so—”

  “Good, son,” Dad interjected, coming over to clap me on the shoulder. “You look good.”

  “I feel good,” I told them, spreading my arms. The T-shirt I wore was so oversized it looked ridiculous. They hadn’t seen me since the 4th of July party, so my change in appearance was obviously a shock.

  “I’m so glad you’re home. I worried about you every day.” Wrapping her arms around me, mom was still crying when she jokingly added, “Geez, where’s the rest of you?”

  “Gone and hopefully never coming back,” I told her, I affectionately patting the blond curls on her head that were an exact replica of mine.

  “Linda, let the boy breathe,” Dad chided.

  Squeezing her tighter, I sent him a look that said I didn’t mind her hugs. I’d missed them both so much.

  When Mom finally let me go, she clasped her hands under her chin, excited. “We have a surprise for you. Matthew, go get him.”

  “Get him? Get who?” I asked, confused. Then my face lit up. “Is Jimmy here?”

  “No, he’s still in Tolson.” She waved her hands dismissively. “Just wait and see.”

  I heard a rhythmic clacking sound before Dad came out of the laundry room… with a dog. A really big fucking dog. The German Shephard’s claws rapped against the white tile with every step as they got closer.

  Decked out in a red harness and leash, he calmly walked over to where my mom and I stood. He looked up at me with alert brown eyes and pointy ears.

  “Asseids,” Dad ordered the strange word, and the animal sat down. “This is Pierre. He’s a service dog. Our present to you.”

  I blinked. “You got me a dog?”

  “A service dog,” Mom emphasized. “He’s specifically trained to assist you. Watch.” She turned to him and said, “Pierre, rapporte las eau.”

  He trotted over to the fridge and pulled on a rope that was attached to the handle. After opening the door, he picked something up in his mouth, nudged the fridge shut, and brought the object over to me.

  Impressed, I took the bottle of water from him. I untwisted the cap and took a drink.

  “His name is Pierre?” I looked back and forth between my parents. “And are you speaking French?”

  Dad nodded. “He only obeys commands in French. We figured with you at school, people might try to talk to him or give him orders.”

  “It’s important that you understand he’s not a regular pet,” Mom chimed in. “He’s been through two years of training.”

  “If he’s not a pet, what am I supposed to do with him?”

  We’d had a dog many years ago. She was a Pomeranian. Fuzzy, friendly little furball that was dumb as a box of rocks. Sweet though, and Mom had been so heartbroken when she died, she hadn’t spoken of getting another pet since.

  “He can be a companion for you,” Mom went on. “He can do simple tasks around your apartment, and he has a vest that attaches to his harness, so he can carry your books to class.” Gesturing to the red fabric around his middle, I noticed the service animal symbol.

  I started shaking my head. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the idea of having a dog, but a dog that literally wore a sign that said I was disabled? That was the opposite of what I wanted.

  “I really appreciate this, but he was probably really expensive, right? Don’t make a bad investment.” I motioned toward my leg. “As long as I keep up with my therapy, I should be good.”

  “You got a scholarship. We had a little extra cash,” Mom argued, getting flustered. “All we want is for you to concentrate on getting good grades and doing well at school.”

  Ah. Unlike Jimmy.

  College wasn’t for everyone, but I was determined to make it a successful experience. This was my new beginning. I was leaving high school, and all the crappy things that came along with it, behind me.

  “Matthew?” Mom looked to dad for backup.

  Agitated, he ran a hand through his dark hair and muttered, “I told you he’d raise a stink about this.” He straightened to his full height, pinning me with the persuasive stare he had down to a science. “Even with buses, you’ll be doing a lot of walking to your classes. There isn’t much parking available on campus and the Honda isn’t in the best shape, so it will be staying here. And we know how your leg gets in colder weather. Let Pierre help you.”

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head again.

  Between the retreat and the dog, there was no doubt in my mind they’d dropped at least twenty grand on me this summer. As owners of a small landscaping business, they weren’t rich by any means. I hated to see their hard-earned money go down the drain.

  The physical therapy was necessary, but the dog? Not so much.

  “I bet I can sell you on the idea.” Dad gave Pierre a pat on the head and handed me the leash. “Having a service animal gets you out of being required to live in the dorms. You’ll have your own apartment.”

  Well, shit. If anything could sway me, that was it. And from the victorious gleam in Dad’s eyes, he knew it. I hadn’t been too keen on sharing a small space with a complete stranger, especially after doing it all summer.

  “Plus,” he went on. “We sort of already signed the lease to the place, so…”

  I looked down at my new friend and had to admit he was cute. And I didn’t have to take him to class with me. He could just be my buddy and retrieve water bottles from the fridge. That shit was pretty cool.

  Scratching him behind the ear, I smiled at my parents. “Okay. I’ll take him.”

  “Good.” Mom clapped her hands before sliding some papers across the kitchen island. “Now, I’ve put together the bus schedules that coincide with your classes and I also wrote the exact walking distance from your apartment. You won’t have to go more than two hundred meters, and most of the buses will take you within a couple blocks of the building.”

  Damn, they’d thought of everything. “I’m sure the walking will be good for me. Don’t worry so much, okay? I’m better now, thanks to you guys.”

  “We did the easy part, Ezra. You did all the work.”

  “She’s right,” Dad said. “Take credit where credit is due. This is all you, son.”

  “Thanks.” My cheeks heated at the praise. Too bad the retreat didn’t fix my blushing problem.

  Tears shimmered in my mom’s blue eyes. “I can’t believe you’ll be leaving again so soon. It’s just not the same around here without you boys.”

  In my life I’d only seen my mom cry a handful of times, but she’d welled up twice in the past five minutes from emotion. My parents were officially empty nesters. I hadn’t considered how difficult the adjustment would be for her until now.

  While Jimmy had always had a natural bond with our dad, I was a momma’s boy through and through. She babied me, and I let her for so long because I needed it.

  I wasn’t a kid anymore, though.

  “It’s not that far away. I’ll come home sometimes,” I reassured her. “Kayla Reynolds is going there, too, and I bet we
can carpool back together for visits.”

  Satisfied, she beamed at me before she began fussing over dinner on the stove.

  Dad handed me an envelope. “By the way, the very Kayla Reynolds you speak of dropped this off for you the other day. Said she didn’t think it would get to you before you left the retreat.”

  He snickered when I snatched it from his hands and started frantically ripping it open. I hadn’t heard from her in two weeks, and I’d been obsessing over the things I’d confessed in the last letter.

  Had I said too much? Been too forward? Did my honesty scare her away? In a moment of delirious exhaustion, I’d even signed it “Love” at the bottom.

  Snail mail was a double-edged sword. There was something special about getting hand-written letters, but they took so damn long to get there.

  My heart pounded as I unfolded the paper.

  August 11th

  Dear Ezra,

  I also have a couple confessions. The picture you drew of me at homecoming? That smile was for you. Only you. I remember imagining you showing up and asking if you could cut in. Of course, Gavin would have graciously stepped aside. You would’ve taken me in your arms and everyone would’ve formed a circle around us and whispered about how great we looked together. At least, that’s how it went in my head.

  Another confession: Remember when you asked me why I stayed in Heyworth? After Arthur died, my parents gave me the option to leave. We could’ve gone back to the city, but I insisted on staying. The main reason… You. If I left, I knew I’d never see you again and I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.

  I’ve spent a good part of the last several weeks feeling so much regret over all the good times we didn’t have together, but I don’t want to feel that way anymore. I want to move forward.

  All our good times are yet to be had, and that’s really exciting.

  I’m moving down to campus early to look for a part-time job, so it looks like we’ll miss each other when you get back into town. Call me as soon as you get settled in at McAdams. I can’t wait to see you!