The Not-Outcast

by Tijan

  “I was just dumped, and your dad’s a dickhead.”

  The dumping part got my attention first. “Wait. What? You were dumped? What happened?”

  “Cassie and I were having dinner tonight when she brought up your dad.”

  “My dad?”

  I was not following this conversation, at all.

  She snorted, cursing at the same time. “Your fucking dad, whom I want to drop a shit on because he’s a major fucking asshole. You remember mentioning that Dean proposed a charity gala at Come Our Way?”

  Vaguely, because I felt bad nixing it so quick.

  That was days ago.

  Wait— “He didn’t?!”

  “He did.” The drink was swirled around once, and she took a long drag. “And I know this because Cassie asked me about Deek Fausten. Ask me how Cassie knew about your dad. Do it. Ask me.”

  I didn’t want to. So, I didn’t.

  Melanie didn’t need the extra prompting. Her eyes were almost feral by now, and she was showing me her teeth. “That fucker had the balls to call the Mustangs. Cassie informed me that she’d been asked why Deek Fausten, who apparently has some connections to the Mustangs’ owners, why he’d think going to a charity event for Come Our Way would be a conflict of interest and why that had anything to do with Cut?”

  I—was staggered.

  It took a beat, and my brain never needed to take a beat, but it did this time.

  Deek. My dad.

  Mustangs.

  Come Our Way.

  Conflict of interest.

  Oh, no.

  No, no, no.

  No.

  Everything good that I’d been feeling, from Cut coming over, from Cut being here, from kissing Cut, from being able to touch him and knowing he wanted me to touch him, from all of it—was wiped clean because my mind caught up.

  My stomach churned.

  I wanted to throw up.

  Vomit rose up in my throat, and I clamped it down.

  My dad.

  Not even.

  I didn’t think of him as my dad, not back when I was a kid, not when I was a guest in his home, not when he came to my mom’s funeral, and not even when he paid for college.

  My mom overdosed and I stayed away.

  The truth was that I’d been fine with that, but Deek never fought for me.

  He hadn’t wanted me. It made sense to me now as an adult. It hadn’t back then.

  Natalie hadn’t wanted me either. She didn’t want me in the same house as her sons, breathing their same air. Me. The homeless kid. The crazy kid. The kid with the coked-out mother who decided she was done going to rehab, and never went again until she overdosed.

  A stigma was put on me, and it was still there. I felt it.

  Dean went ahead with the charity gala, without our say-so, and he approached all those ‘high-end’ folks whom he said he was going to approach. That meant the Mustangs’ team. That meant my father, I guess.

  I hadn’t known.

  And though their names hadn’t been brought up, I knew who else would be invited to that party. Natalie and her husband. Dean would approach her husband because he was a lawyer for a local big-name firm. And he’d approach because he would do his homework, and he would learn who was connected to the Mustangs, and Chad was connected, and then he’d go from there.

  Damn Dean.

  Damn him so much.

  Melanie had been talking, but she fell silent until now. “Cheyenne?”

  A door opened from down the hallway.

  A muted footstep on the carpet, and I lifted my head.

  Cut stood there. He had heard everything.

  I asked, “Did you know?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, just today.”

  Another pang, this time it cut straight down my middle.

  They asked him. The guy I thought I had loved since I first saw him. The guy whom I actually did love since I first saw him.

  I asked, my voice cracking, “What’d you say?”

  His eyes grew fierce. His jaw hardened. “I lied. I told my boss that it must be because of Chad.”

  Melanie gaped at him, a gargled sound ripping from her throat, one that sounded like it was half of a laugh. And a pleased laugh.

  “You said what?”

  His jaw clenched before he said, “I knew what that fucker was trying to do, but fuck him. I put it on Chad.”

  I almost swayed from the surprise.

  He hadn’t turned on me…I’d been expecting it. A pocket deep inside, one reserved for all those people who weren’t supposed to turn on you, but they did—that pocket had been making room for one more.

  It stopped.

  “I might be into guys,” Melanie whispered, her eyes big and gaping on Cut. Then, she flinched. “No. I can’t even joke about that, but honestly, fuck girls right now, too.” She glanced at me. “You know what I mean.”

  A nod from me. I did. Forget Deek right now. “Let’s go to the park, pick up old dog poop, and put it on Cassie’s car.”

  Melanie’s eyes started shining from unshed tears. “You’d do that for me?”

  I frowned. “Of course. And if Sash was here, you know she’d already be grabbing her tools to break into Cassie’s car so she could take a dump herself in the front seat.”

  Melanie pressed her lips together, a small laugh slipping out. “She would, too.”

  I nodded.

  “That’s why I came here first.”

  I nodded again.

  Melanie’s gaze flashed again, her mouth curving down. “Cassie asked me about Fausten because she couldn’t figure out the connection with Come Our Way. Said it had something to do with Cut. They must’ve asked her before asking Cut.” She glanced at him. “I got upset because, you know, what a douche your dad is being. Cassie got upset at me because she said he was going to be doing business with the Mustangs and I needed to respect her employers. Before I knew it, she was saying we were moving too fast and she couldn’t risk her career since you and I are so close.”

  Cut remarked, “She’s real particular about her dating life not touching her career.”

  My friend was hurting.

  I was going to take any of my pain from Fausten, and I was going to wrap it up. I was going to put a bow on it and shove it out of my mind because he didn’t matter to me. Melanie did, and she was hurting. So because of that, I knew two options could happen here. Cassie might’ve really meant what she said to Melanie, or she didn’t. She said it in haste, and she’d want her back. I know in both situations, Cassie would regret it because it was Melanie. And thinking back on how I had watched both of them hold hands, sneak kisses, cuddle, hug each other, whisper to each other, and how there’d been times if Melanie was upset and Cassie reached for her, I had a feeling I knew which option would happen.

  “Cassie’s going to come around and she’s going to apologize for what she said.”

  Melanie wiped a tear away. “You think?”

  “I know so, so don’t let those words sink in any further. They’re not going to stay long, and don’t let them have any more power. That’s done.” And because I knew how to cheer her up. “Let’s go have banana split sundaes at Tits.”

  “How do you know that’s what Cassie will do, Shy?”

  Because she loved her. I could already tell, but I only said, “Because you’re one fucking amazing catch.”

  That made her smile, and that’s when I moved in, wrapping my arms around her. I pulled her in close, my head going to her shoulder as her forehead went to mine. A second later, her arms circled me, and we both knew the real tragedy of the night.

  There’d be no poop surprises for anyone.

  Cut: I was going to tell you about Deek later tonight. Just got distracted.

  Me: I know. I enjoyed the distraction.

  Cut: You okay?

  Me: Juna is still trying to perfect her upside-down shimmy, so how could I not with a glittery thong in my face?

  Cut: I don’t know how to respond to that.


  Me: Thanks for being okay with letting us have a girls’ night.

  Cut: Yeah. I get it, though Hendrix got excited when I told him you guys were at Tits.

  Me: Who wouldn’t?

  Cut: True.

  Cut: For the record, what Deek did was shitty, but he’s your dad. If you’d like me not to say something, I won’t, but I’m hoping you’ll let me handle him. I’d like to handle Deek.

  Me: What would you say?

  Cut: Let me handle him.

  Me: Okay. Go for it. Should I thank you for this?

  Cut: No. It’s going to be all my pleasure.

  Me: How are things with you and Nut-Brother?

  Cut: Different, but he and I will be fine. We’re like you and your girls, but we just take longer because guys don’t like to talk about shit, ya know.

  Me: I think I’m a dude then.

  Cut: Would make sense why you keep saying dude.

  Me: I gotta go. Juna is now jumping up and down on her heels. Sash is yelling at her to stop jumping.

  Me: She just did something to her ankle.

  Me: She's fine. She declared it.

  Cut: I’m at a loss on how to respond again.

  Me: That makes two of us

  Cut: Hey. Can you do me a favor for later? Text me when u get home, no matter how late.

  Me: No prob, Bob.

  Cut. No dude, and no Bob.

  Me: Okey-dokey.

  29

  Cut

  I hit the house, and either unlucky or lucky for Chad, he was home.

  My girl was at a strip club so my boy was going to hear some words from me. Going inside, Chad was in the kitchen and he froze, seeing me. “Hey.”

  Then, he saw me, saw me and he unfroze. His back went to the counter, his hands beside him, and he nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  “Your stepdad’s a piece of work.”

  I dropped my bag, my keys, my wallet.

  I was tired. I was grumpy. And I was still pissed about being pulled into Margo’s office.

  Chad frowned. “Jon?”

  I grunted. “Deek.”

  “Deek? Deek’s not my stepdad anymore.”

  “He was, and he’s a piece of shit.”

  Chad’s frown just deepened. “I’m not following this conversation.”

  He and I still hadn’t had it out from before, but this took priority.

  So I told him. I told him everything.

  Margo.

  Me throwing him under the bus, which he snorted/laughed at.

  Me going to Cheyenne’s and not getting into it with her because I was getting into it. And I ended it with Cassie, and Melanie showing up at Cheyenne’s, and Chad was grinning by the end.

  “So, you throw me under the bus—”

  “—because you’re an asswipe and you deserve it.” And he’d show up at the party anyway, and Margo would be gone by the time he did.

  He inclined his head slowly at that one, “—and my Not-Sister—”

  I’d shared with him how the girls referred to him, the Not-Brother. I hadn’t shared about the Nut-Brother.

  “—goes to Sasha’s job to cheer up her friend?” His smile just widened. “I’m thinking you’re right.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “You’re right. My mom’s a piece of work, something I’ve always known and never took into account, and you’re right about Deek. That was shitty what he did, and like a fucking bitch. And you’re also right about Cheyenne. I’m seeing that I’m going to have to get to know her because of you, but also, she seems kinda cool.”

  Knots I hadn’t known in my shoulders just unclenched. “She’s fucking amazing.”

  “Yeah. I’m starting to get that.” He was nodding, and suddenly his eyes closed, and his head fell down. “I’ve been an asshole.”

  This talk was turning out easier than I thought. Chad was doing most of the work.

  He kept on, “And I know you’re about to lay down some rules, but you don’t have to. I mean it. I get it. It’s uncool that I drop your name at Bresko’s as much as I do. And at Robbins, and at Hank Hamburgers, and well, at a ton of other places that you don’t know about and we should probably not get into that.”

  Of course.

  But I was now tired.

  I was shaking my head. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’m a dick.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll work at not being a dick.”

  “That’d be good.”

  He waited a little bit, assessing me. “Can we talk about Sasha, because I’m all sorts of fucked up about her. She’s got my head spinning, and man.” He let out a breath, giving me a rueful look. “I don’t know if it’s morning or night and I’ve no clue how to handle this shit.”

  I was even more tired now. All the shit that’d been building up was gone after this one conversation. Chad would work at not being a dick, and I got my best friend back in one go. Took fucking long enough.

  “We got a game tomorrow.”

  “Right.” He straightened from the counter, his hands falling down and he was looking around the kitchen.

  “So, just one beer for me.”

  His head popped back up. A wide smile spread over his face, and he nodded slowly. “Right. Just one.”

  We shared a grin.

  It was good to have my boy back.

  30

  Cheyenne

  Melanie liked Juna, a lot. Or she liked Juna’s boobs.

  She kept trying to talk to them, but she was talking about how much she loved Cassie. How sad she was about Cassie. How she already missed Cassie. How she hadn’t known how much she cared about Cassie until their ‘tiff’ that night.

  I was saying ‘tiff.’ Melanie kept saying ‘tits.’

  Juna’s boobs didn’t care either way.

  And Juna sat on Melanie’s lap, commiserating with her, and it was more of a friend consoling another friend, except for the whole thing where Juna’s boobs were out.

  Sasha was frowning at them, then just shook her head. We were in Sasha’s special booth, and Sash was doing paperwork while we both listened to Melanie. Our duties weren’t so needed tonight, since Juna was taking care of it for us, but we were here. We needed to be here. After closing, Melanie was drunk off her ass. She and Juna had moved to a different booth next to us.

  Melanie’s eyes were closed, and her head was back.

  She was talking all about Cassie while Juna was smoothing out her hair.

  “Oh, that’s so sad.”

  Three more dancers joined them. All sitting, listening to Melanie talking about Cassie, and a couple of the girls were brushing away tears.

  Yeah. We were so not needed tonight.

  Sasha was looking at them, too, and she snorted before closing up her paperwork. She reached for her brandy, then turned to me. “Tell me about your man.”

  “I never asked you about Chad.”

  She snorted. “Bullshit, you did. You called the other day and we had a three-hour conversation about your Nut-Brother.”

  Right. I was deflecting here.

  “Talk.”

  She’d returned to the one-word statements. So I had to talk.

  “Three nights ago I decided to try with him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because… I do love him.” Crap, crap, crap.

  Just, crap.

  I whispered, “It wasn’t just an idea back then.”

  The music had cut out so she could hear me, and her eyes turned sad.

  She grabbed her drink in one hand and took my hand in her other. She squeezed.

  I felt it.

  I clung to her hand with my other and we sat there like that for a second.

  Gah. All these emotions. They were rising up and choking me.

  “Girl.” A soft sigh from Sasha.

  I felt that in my gut. “Right.”

  One of the bouncers headed our way, and he stopped at our booth, taking us in. He saw the brandy in Sasha’s
hand, her hand between both of mine, how we were both lounging back, and how neither of us were talking.

  “Chicks.” He shook his head and headed out.

  The girls said their goodbyes, and one by one, they all started heading out, too.

  Melanie’s booth was emptied out. Each of them came over, said a goodbye, and slipped out through their dressing room. Juna brought Melanie back to our booth and stood, staring at us much how the bouncer just had.

  She was frowning heavily at Melanie, whose eyes never opened, and as soon as she hit the booth, she turned into whoever was next to her. That was me, and her arms wrapped around one of mine. Her head went down and was resting into my side. She was snuggling into me.

  “She’s pretty sad tonight.”

  A loud snore ripped from Melanie in that moment.

  No one reacted.

  Sasha just nodded. “Thanks for taking care of her. Did she tip you at all?”

  Juna shook her head, lifting up a shoulder. “Seemed more of a humane thing to do tonight, you know?” She shrugged again, then a brighter smile came back. “Okay. I’m out. I’m off tomorrow.” She said to me, “Tell your man good luck on his game.”

  Cut. My man.

  The little thrills were there.

  I liked feeling those thrills.

  “I’ll tell him.”

  She waved again before heading out, disappearing into their back dressing room.

  Sasha put her brandy back down and lifted her hand. She was reaching into a bag on her other side, and when one of the last of the bouncers came over, she took out a big envelope. Tossing it on the table toward him, she said, “Divide that up. Eighty percent to Juna. Break the last twenty between the other three who listened to my girl the last hour.”

  He dipped his head down, took the envelope and headed toward the dressing room.

  I’d seen Sasha do that before. All of those girls would come back with an envelope stuffed inside their lockers, and the thing was that none of them expected cash for listening to Melanie. To them, that wasn’t part of their job that night.

  “You’re a good boss.”

  Sasha grunted, picking up her brandy once again.

  Melanie just snored.

  Me: It’s 4 am. Taco Bell is amazing. I’m home.