OUTCAST: A Good Guys Novel

by Jamie Schlosser

  “Correct them…?” I still wasn’t catching onto what she was trying to tell me.

  Looking around as if someone might overhear her, she whispered, “Gavin’s gay.”

  And my jaw dropped.

  “Are you being serious right now?” I whispered back.

  “Yes, but you can’t tell anyone. No one, got it?” she asked and I nodded. “His parents don’t even know. The only reason I’m telling you is because he gave me permission. He and I had a good thing; people didn’t mess with me too much after they thought we were together, and no one ever questioned his sexual preference. Win-win for both of us. It might’ve seemed like he was always protecting me, but I’ve been protecting him too.”

  “Holy shit.” I took a moment to digest the new information, and the missing pieces fell into place. Looking back, I realized I’d never seen them be overly affectionate with each other. Playful, yes. But romantic? Not really. I just thought they weren’t big into PDA. “I never would’ve guessed that about him.”

  “That’s because you’re good in here.” She tapped my chest. “You see without judgment. But some people notice things like that. They look for faults or weaknesses. And once they find it, they use it to make that person feel like they’re less. Someone would’ve wondered why Gavin never dated girls at school. And if he did date, word would’ve gotten around that he wasn’t interested in them, physically.”

  I nodded, truly understanding that she was right. “High school probably would’ve been bad for him if that was the case.”

  “Yeah. But, Ezra, I wanted you.” Her warm palm still caressed my knee. “I just thought you didn’t want me back.”

  “How could you possibly think that?”

  “You hid it really well,” she replied with a shrug. “And I guess I wasn’t obvious enough.”

  Tipping my head toward her, I grinned. “I’m a guy. We’re kind of clueless sometimes.”

  Amused, her lips tipped up. Then a frown took over. “I leave for vacation on Tuesday.”

  “And I leave next week for the retreat.”

  “We won’t see each other for a long time.” Sad eyes blinked up at me.

  During the time we’d been sitting outside, the humidity in the air had caused Kayla’s hair to start to take its natural shape. I’d been watching it—first the ends started to curl. Then the rest followed suit by lifting at the roots, defying gravity around her face in round waves. When it was straight, the length fell below her breasts, but now it was just a couple inches past her shoulders.

  She hated it when people fucked with her hair, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to feel the smooth texture. Wanted to see the coil spring back after I pulled it taut and let it go.

  Reaching out, I twirled one of the silky copper strands around my finger. She didn’t shrug away from me or slap my hand, so that was a good sign.

  “You going to school tomorrow morning?” I asked. The half-day was optional for seniors, and most people wouldn’t show up unless they hadn’t cleaned out their lockers or picked up their yearbooks yet. If Kayla and I went, it was likely that we’d only see each other in passing, but a few minutes was better than nothing at all.

  “I was planning on it,” Kayla replied, still seeming totally okay with the fact that I was toying with the curl. “I have some art projects to pick up. What about you?”

  I released the ringlet, fascinated by the way it bounced. “I wasn’t going to, but if you’ll be there, I’ll come too.”

  “I guess I’ll see you then.” A huge grin stretched across her face. “And since I got a peek at your sketchbook, I felt it was only fair that I show you something of mine.”

  She pulled a small pink photo album from her purse.

  I took it from her, eager to get a glimpse into her personal life. ‘Nailed It’ was spelled out in multi-colored glitter stickers on the front. When I opened to the first page, I tilted my head, trying to figure out what I was looking at.

  “What is this?”

  “That—” She pointed to the picture of what looked like a lumpy sweater. “—is a scarf.”

  I turned the book to the side as I tried to figure out where the scarf began and where it ended. God, it was like a bad toupee.

  “Hmm.” I just nodded because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  “I saw this tutorial on Pinterest where someone made hats, gloves, and scarves out of upcycled wool shirts they got from thrift stores,” she explained. “It was supposed to be great for Christmas gifts.”

  “Oh. That was nice of you,” I said kindly as my eyes went back to the gray pile. “Did you ever give it to someone?”

  “No. I’m not that cruel.” Giggles erupted from Kayla as she flipped to the next picture.

  What the fuck? I peered closer. It was a muffin tin, but whatever was inside the cups definitely wasn’t edible. The concave shapes looked charred. “Is that chocolate chips or blueberries?”

  “A fun fact about me—the answer is always chocolate,” she stated with a laugh. “It took me an hour to clean that crusty thing, and I still ended up throwing the pan away.”

  When I made it to the next photo, I let out an impressed whistle. “Hey, this is a nice quilt.”

  And it was. The colorful square patches were sewn together with raggedy edges. It had a rustic style to it and it looked warm.

  Nodding, she smiled. “It did turn out okay, but the materials cost about $250 and it took me nineteen months to finish it. Obviously, after an investment like that I have to keep it forever.”

  The entire book was filled with evidence of Kayla’s Pinterest fails. Mini apple pies that didn’t turn out right. A coffee table made out of an old pallet, which she said had to be thrown away after everyone in the family got horrible splinters from the half-rotted wood.

  And the embroidered handkerchief she’d given me. I’d washed it and gotten the blood stains out, but I had no intention of giving it back.

  The last photo was just as confusing as the first two. Thin white sticks stood up in some kind of plastic holder, and each skewered a goopy brown clump of… something.

  “What are these supposed to be?”

  “Cake pops.” She hung her head.

  “Oh, God.” I laughed so hard my stomach muscles burned. “This is bad.”

  “I know.” Grinning, she nudged me with her shoulder before taking the album back. “So now you know I’m not good at everything.”

  “I would’ve worn that scarf with pride and eaten every one of those cake pops,” I told her, just to make her feel better.

  “Don’t encourage me. I’ve banned myself from that website.” She attempted to give me a stern look and I barked out a laugh. “Well, I guess I should get going. I have to pack for my trip.”

  Kayla bit her lip before standing, and I already missed the loss of her next to me. I stood, too, and followed her to the steps. She’d just hopped off the last one when she turned around.

  “Will you call me? While you’re at your retreat.”

  The rain had turned to a light mist, causing her wild spirals to stick out around her face. It reminded me of the first day I met her.

  “I don’t know if I can.” I hated saying no to her, especially when she looked so fucking cute. “I told you this place is intense and it’s a bit unconventional. We’re not supposed to be distracted. There’s a no cell phone rule. No internet either. That’s how much it’s gonna suck.”

  “Would you write to me then? I’m sure that has to be allowed. I want more of your letters.”

  I could give her that. “Only if you promise to write me back.”

  “I promise.”

  As I watched her skip to her car, there was a pain in my jaw and it took me a second to realize it was because I was smiling so much. I hadn’t been this happy in… pretty much ever.

  Kayla liked me. She didn’t have a boyfriend. We’d be going to the same college together. And for the first time, there was a light at the end of the dark tunnel I’d been li
ving in.

  I had a plan for the future.

  Determination set in. I was going to get better at the retreat this summer, and then I’d be the kind of guy worthy of her.

  June 7th

  Dear Kayla,

  It’s only been three days, and I already miss home.

  Remember when I said the retreat was like fat camp? I was wrong. And remember when you said it was probably like a spa? You were wrong, too. This is like fucking boot camp. Our schedules are packed with physical therapy, nutrition classes, and even mental health counseling. I’m realizing now that my parents must’ve been really worried about me to send me here.

  This place is fancier than I thought, and I don’t even want to think about how much it cost. I don’t know why, but I thought we’d be in cabins in the woods or something, with lakes and horseback riding. While there are outdoor activities, this place is more like a hospital. There’s a gym, an indoor track, and an Olympic-sized swimming pool. So far, the water aerobics are my favorite part because it’s easy on my joints.

  The range of motion in my knee isn’t great, which is my biggest problem, so the trainer they’ve assigned to me is mapping out an exercise plan to improve joint mobility, muscle strength, and overall flexibility. I have to say that my trainer’s a pretty cool guy, even if he has zero sense of humor. He’s a war vet and he’s only got one leg. The guy runs marathons. Marathons! I think we’re going to get along well.

  Unfortunately, I can’t say many good things about the food. Have you ever heard of clean eating? That’s translation for ‘nothing that tastes good ever.’ It’s some kind of paleo diet, a throwback to our caveman ancestors or some shit. Apparently, avoiding certain foods can help with inflammation in the body. I guess it’s a good thing but hard to get used to.

  The other part I don’t like is the rooming situation. I’ve got five other guys staying with me in a dorm-like hall, and the lack of privacy sucks. Guess I need to get used to that, since freshmen at McAdams are required to stay in the dorms. Most of the dudes in my group suffer from old leg injuries like me, although one is dealing with a hip issue. It’s kind of neat to not feel like the odd man out for once, you know?

  So how was Disney World? I didn’t get a chance to ask you at graduation since so much was going on. Do you have any cool summer plans?

  I can’t wait to get my first letter from you.

  -Ezra

  June 12th

  Dear Ezra,

  The retreat sounds great! Well, aside from sucky food and being packed into a room with a bunch of smelly guys. Not that you stink or anything. You actually smell really good. Crap. Should I scrap this letter and start a new one? Nah. I’ll just keep going. I already threw the first one away because of my rambling and I don’t want to waste the paper.

  So are you making new friends? I feel a little lost with Gavin gone and so much down time. I’ve even been tempted to go on Pinterest to find projects to keep me busy, and we both know how that will turn out.

  My trip to Disney was everything I dreamed of and more! As you can see, I’ve enclosed a picture of me from when I got a princess makeover. Belle has always been my favorite. And per your request, here’s a pic of me with Mickey… and you! See what I’m holding in my hand? That’s your junior yearbook picture. Haha.

  I really need a job. I’ve been trying to find one in town, but it’s impossible. You know how it goes. There’s the grocery store and the gas station, but neither are hiring. I filled out an application to the diner, but Anne is working there. Even if they offer me the job, which is unlikely, I’ll probably turn it down.

  Send another letter soon!

  -Kayla

  P.S. Letters are awesome but if I’m being honest, I really wish I could hear your voice.

  June 18th

  My ringtone interrupted my reading, and I huffed. I’d just been getting to a good part—AKA sexy times. The screen showed an Ohio number I didn’t know.

  “Hello?” I answered, my tone skeptical. I swear, if one more telemarketer or scammer called me to tell me my computer had been hacked, or that I’d earned a bunch of travel points to resorts I’d never heard of—

  “Kayla?”

  “Ezra?!” I sat up so quickly my head spun. “Oh my God, I almost didn’t answer my phone because I didn’t recognize the number.”

  “Yeah, the warden lets us have phone calls on Sundays,” he joked, then his voice lowered to a whisper. “I already talked to my parents but I’m sneaking one more in before my time is up.”

  I couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s so good to hear from you. Seems like you’re staying busy, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. This place is so unlike what I thought it’d be. I wasn’t kidding when I said it was basically boot camp. I’m exhausted.”

  “Tell me,” I requested, sprawling out on my bed. “Tell me everything.”

  “Well, we have to wear uniforms. Not real uniforms, but it’s all track pants and white T-shirts. They have activities scheduled almost every day of the week. Strength training and cardio. And then there’s the yoga.”

  I snickered. “I bet you love that last one.”

  He grunted. “I could do without it. I don’t see how sticking my ass in the air for long periods of time is supposed to help my leg, but whatever.”

  Letting out a loud laugh, I rolled onto my side, wishing I could see his face. I missed his blushes. “Is it painful for you?”

  “It’s not pleasant,” he admitted. “Aside from normal soreness that comes with working out, I’ve got pain in my tendons. The doctor here said I might have to have surgery again at some point because I have scar tissue and some loose cartilage in my knee. Ice and massage therapy help, though. And they’ve got these high-tech ultrasound machines that send deep heat into the muscles, and it does wonders for the pain.”

  “That sounds nice. What are your roommates like? Any bromances going on?”

  He hesitated. “Not so much. All the guys in my group are nice, but they’re not very social. I think some of them got bullied pretty badly, and it’s almost like they’re afraid to become friends with anyone.”

  “That’s so sad. Must be lonely for you.”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “But honestly, we’re all so tired by the end of the day, we don’t have much energy to socialize. I’m just trying to keep my focus on the end goal—getting better.”

  “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks.” I could tell he was smiling. “So what about you? What’s new?”

  “Well, my parents took pity on me and my lack of job situation. When I tried to tell them about my idea to sell pet rocks on Etsy, they hired me to do some secretarial work at their law firm three days a week.”

  “Oh, geez.” He snickered. “I bet I could guess where you got that idea.”

  “Right? I seriously need to stay off Pinterest.”

  “Your parents have an office in Cleveland, right?”

  “Yep. I don’t enjoy the commute, but it’s not hard work. Mostly filing and answering the phone.”

  I heard a muffled voice say something to Ezra, and he said, “Just a sec.”

  “Do you have to go already?” I asked, sounding disappointed and desperate.

  “Yeah. But I have to know—what did the first letter say?”

  “Huh?” I asked, confused.

  “You said in the letter you sent me that you threw away the first draft. Why? What did it say?”

  “It said—” Someone in the background mumbled something I couldn’t make out, and Ezra returned with a hushed frustrated tone.

  “Sorry,” he said to me. “Go ahead.”

  “I wrote that I wished you’d kissed me before you left.” The words tumbled out in a rush.

  My cheeks burned as Ezra’s sexy chuckle made it through the phone, and I wondered if I made him blush, too. I hoped so. I didn’t want to be the only one with a tomato face.

  “I wish that, too. I’ll send you another letter soon, okay?”

  �
�Okay.” I held in my sad sigh. “Thanks for calling.”

  “Bye, Kayla.”

  “Bye.”

  June 27th

  Dear Kayla,

  My trainer is the anti-Christ. I take back every good thing I ever said about him. Guess how I got to spend my 19th birthday? Doing DOUBLE the physical therapy sessions. TWICE the time on the elliptical. I thought maybe I’d get a day off, but nope. Worst birthday ever.

  We’ve started doing some new classes. Martial arts training is one. It’s supposed to boost self-esteem while also teaching self-defense, which a lot of us need. Also, they’re teaching us cooking and meal prep so we can continue healthy eating habits after this program is over. And damn, do I wish it was over.

  Most nights I’m too tired to draw. I try, but I usually end up falling asleep on my sketchbook. To make up for the fact that this letter is short, I’ve included a new sketch of you. It’s not my best work, but your beautiful face makes up for it.

  -Ezra

  July 3rd

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, you.” Kayla’s soft voice came through the phone.

  “Hey, how did you get this number?” I asked, confused. “And how did you get them to let you talk to me?”

  It was 3 p.m. on a Monday. Technically, I was supposed to be getting my ass kicked in jujitsu right now.

  “I’m calling on behalf of Reynolds and Walsh Law Offices on a pressing matter involving a conflict with your class schedule,” she said in a high-pitched, professional tone.

  Glancing at the office doorway, I made sure no one was around and lowered my voice. “You’re shitting me.”

  Kayla broke into a fit of giggles. “Pretty sly, right? I just got your letter and realized I missed your birthday, so I had to call. Happy belated Birthday! And I’m really sorry it sucked.”

  I grinned because she was too fucking sweet. “Thanks. Trey—that’s my trainer—he means well, but he can’t get rid of the military mentality. Most of the time I’m pretty sure he’s trying to kill me. Just wish he would’ve laid off for a day.”