The Not-Outcast

by Tijan

  Some of the tension I’d been holding lifted.

  That was going to make this a bit easier. And there was no easy way to smooth into this, so I just ripped off the Band-Aid.

  “I found out that he slept with my mother all those years ago and I attacked him, but now I’m thinking about it, and that would’ve made my mom a sex offender.”

  Oh. Crap.

  There was so much there to grimace about.

  Sasha’s eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

  “Yeah.” My gaze fell to the table. That really was making my stomach do figure-eights, and not in the happy way.

  “Chad and your mom?”

  “The Chad.”

  She grunted. “Fucking Chad.”

  I snickered because I couldn’t help myself. “That just took on a whole different meaning.”

  A third grunt from her. “Am I supposed to feel bad for him?”

  “I don’t think so? I mean, he gave her money afterwards so she could get a fix.”

  “Gross. Fucking Chad.”

  Yeah. “Fucking Chad.”

  “I feel bad for all other Chads out there in the world now.”

  “Me too.”

  Her new brandy came over and she reached for it. Settling back in, she cocked her head to the side. “Wait. When did this happen?”

  “Last night.”

  “At your guy’s house?”

  “I got up for a snack. Chad came in drunk. You know the side where usually people are lovey-dovey when they’re drunk and they’re just assholes when they’re sober?”

  She cocked up an eyebrow, her arm resting on the back of the booth and she was turned toward me.

  “Not for Chad. Turns out he’s nicer when he’s sober.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yep.”

  “Did Cut hear any of it?”

  “Well…” This was the part where I told her what really went down, on the whole me going for his jugular. And then I waited because it was complete silence at the table afterwards.

  She took a breath, blinked a few times, and then drained her second brandy. “Damn again.”

  “Yep. Again.”

  “He’s gone?”

  I nodded.

  Her eyes slid sideways to me. “And you have his phone?”

  I met her gaze, also sideways. “I mean, it’s at Cut’s house.”

  “You’re saying that we can get to it?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I might know his passcode.”

  My mouth dropped.

  I had no words. I didn’t know if I should be excited or wary.

  Forget that.

  Excitement. All day every day.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “What do you think?” Sasha just gave me a knowing grin.

  Oh yeah. We were about to get into some trouble.

  “Are we too old to do stuff like this?” I said this as I was sliding out of the booth.

  Sasha was right behind me. She snorted. “Two words: toilet paper. Let’s fuck this guy’s life up a bit.”

  Me: You at your place right now?

  Cut: I headed to Hendrix’s. You done already?

  Me: Nope. I think it might be a late night.

  Cut: Okay. Have fun.

  We were in Matilda, and I put my phone back in my purse just as the light turned green.

  I was driving this time, and I glanced at Sasha. “I feel like I should tell Cut what we’re going to do.”

  “Plausible deniability.”

  Right. That was a good way to think of it.

  I added, “I’ll tell him later.”

  Sasha’s head bobbed up and down. “Later.”

  Like next year later, maybe.

  “You know the code to get in?”

  My stomach dipped. “Yes. And I know where they keep the extra key.”

  A smile from her. “Excellent.” A beat later, “Plausible deniability.”

  “Plausible deniability.”

  Koala Sister: Um.

  Koala Brother: Um what?

  Koala Sister: Um um.

  Koala Brother: OMG, Cheyenne. Just say it.

  Koala Sister: Nothing. Love you. Miss you. How are you?

  Koala Brother: Dude.

  Koala Sister: DUDE!

  Koala Brother: Same, by the way.

  Koala Sister: Dude.

  42

  Cut

  “That was your girl?” Hendrix asked, coming back with a beer in hand.

  He handed it over, sitting down on his couch.

  I took it. “She’s doing a girls’ night.”

  Hendrix frowned, taking a sip of his beer. “I had a buddy who always thought ‘girls’ night’ was code for ‘I’m going out drinking with my girls and I’m going to cheat on you.’”

  “I don’t think that’s what this is. Cheyenne’s not like that.”

  “Still.” Another sip and he shrugged. “He found out after they broke up that his girl had been cheating on him the whole time. Screwed him up for life.”

  “That’s a seriously depressing story.”

  Another sip. Another shrug. “Just saying it how it is.”

  “Girls’ night for them is at Sasha’s club. Where other girls dance.”

  He grinned. “That’s awesome. You got a cool chick.”

  “Speaking of—”

  “Nope.” Beer in hand, he pointed at me, shaking his head. “Don’t go there.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m into the Not-Russian, but we’re not those guys. We don’t talk about chicks with each other, or our feelings about them.”

  “I was going to ask if you wanted to go down to Come Our Way on Friday for a volunteer day. We’re back then and have a half-day. You mentioned doing an extra day.”

  “Don’t I feel like a dumbass now.”

  I grinned. “I never did it the first round. Thought it’d be cool to go before the charity event.”

  “That’s Saturday night, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  His eyes narrowed and he took a slow sip from his beer. “I’m in.” Then, he eyed me. “Be honest, dude. You’re going to check out that Dean guy, aren’t you?”

  I never answered him. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Cheyenne. I did, but he was there and he worked with her and … I’d be checking this guy out.

  He laughed. I didn’t have to answer him.

  We went over to the hockey setup he had in his apartment.

  I went first, hitting the puck into the net and the sirens lit up.

  43

  Cheyenne

  The mission was set.

  Get inside the house, get Chad’s phone, and fuck up his life. Those were more Sasha’s words, but I was along for the ride. I was an eager accomplice. We pulled up to the house. The lights were off. Everything seemed easy enough, right?

  Wrong.

  As we were heading inside, a pair of headlights swept over us and we both froze.

  A second later, the car parked and the lights went out.

  I was sweating out my own piss because I’d have to lie to Cut, and I didn’t want to lie to him. But two car doors shut, and we saw two slender figures heading our way.

  “What the hell? You’re doing a Possible Mission without me?!”

  I relaxed. It was Melanie.

  Then, I stiffened. It was Melanie and someone else.

  “Who’s with you?”

  Possible Mission was the name we used for missions just like this, and we had a strict three-person attendance rule. Sasha. Melanie. Myself. No one else was allowed on a Possible Mission. We also had a Fight Club rule where we didn’t talk about Possible Missions outside of the three of us. Our toilet paper mission hadn’t been classified as a Possible Mission because Melanie wasn’t there. Same as tonight.

  “Heya, Cheyenne.” It was Cassie.

  And dammit. She sounded all sweet, and she gave me a little wave like I just made her feel bad.

  “WTF, Mel?”
>
  I took Possible Mission rules serious. Straight to the heart.

  Melanie flinched.

  She knew how serious I took them.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. She’s one of us.”

  Both Sasha and I gasped.

  Sasha had been bent over the doorknob. It might’ve seemed from the outlook that she was trying to pick the lock, but we had a key. Both of us forgot our phones in the car, so we had no light. She was fumbling to get the key in when Melanie and Cassie showed up.

  “No, she is not!” I was also a bit passionate on this subject, too.

  Another grimace from Cassie, and I could see because both of them had their phones out and pointed toward us. Melanie knew better. This wasn’t our first near-criminal mission. Cassie, bless her heart.

  I softened my tone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that how it came out.”

  Melanie helped me out here, turning to her girlfriend. “You’re an ‘other.’ You’re not in the triad. That’s me, Shy, and Sash. That’s all she means.”

  I added, “Other means significant other, not other as in an outsider. That’s a key point.”

  The hurt look faded from Cassie and her shoulders bounced back up. “Oh. I got ya. I understand. I have some friends like that.”

  The door opened, and the alarm beeping commenced.

  Sasha straightened. “Entrance.”

  I scooted around her, putting in the code.

  At the time I heard Melanie ask behind me, “You do?”

  I could almost hear Cassie’s shrug. “Just some friends from college.”

  “Are they straight friends?”

  Sasha grunted. “She’s with you, Mel, about to do a breaking-and-entering. Stop with the jealousy shit.”

  “What? I’m just asking.”

  Another grunt from Sasha as she swept past me, hitting the light switches. The front main rooms all flooded with lights, and I made a note to ask how she even knew those were there. I had no clue, and I thought I’d been here the most.

  Apparently not.

  “Check your insecurity,” I told Melanie as both came inside.

  Cassie’s gaze went to the floor, and Melanie’s eyes widened at me.

  I was normally not this forthcoming, but again, I took these missions seriously. Though, we were not in an official Possible Mission because Cassie was here. We were now in Prankland Territory. The rules for that were as followed, not a Possible Mission. That was it. Those were the rules.

  When Sash and I toilet papered Chad’s side of the house, Prankland.

  If Melanie had joined us: Possible Mission.

  Melanie started to say something and I held up a hand, shutting the door at the same time. “Not the time and place.”

  She shut up. Everything was off-limits when we were committing these acts.

  Sasha came back from looking around. “Where’s the phone?”

  It was in Cut’s room. “Stay here. I’ll grab it.”

  I took off as I heard Cassie asking, “If you guys were all about the breaking-and-entering, why turn on all the lights on the inside?”

  Melanie was the one who answered. “Because we don’t actually like to break the law. We just like to pretend we’re breaking the law.”

  “Oh.” Cassie totally didn’t understand it.

  This was why she wasn’t included for the Possible Missions.

  I grabbed Chad’s phone from Cut’s nightstand, and headed back out. Though, we were pretending to be thieves here. I couldn’t help myself and snagged one of his hockey shirts like I meant to do earlier. It had his name and his number on it. Not an official jersey or anything, just a t-shirt.

  Now it was mine.

  Grabbing it, I went back downstairs.

  Melanie and Cassie were sitting at the kitchen’s island. Sasha was mixing drinks for everyone.

  I loved my friends.

  I slid the phone down the island toward Sasha, and then pulled Cut’s shirt over my other shirt. Cassie and Melanie just looked at me.

  “What?” I said to both.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nada.”

  Sasha picked up the phone. “Nice.” She put in the passcode and showed us the screen.

  We were in.

  Time to get fucking.

  Chad didn’t know this, but when he got his phone back, he’d have to learn Hebrew. (Who really knew that language anymore? Besides priests and seminary students.) Everything would be password protected. I was pretty certain Sasha would be changing all his passwords to his social media, and from there, who knew how long she’d keep those accounts before letting him back in.

  That was the tip of the iceberg of what Sasha was going to do.

  I only hoped she didn’t post something to get Chad put on the FBI’s watch list, because I knew that was real.

  And something she’d do.

  44

  Cut

  Three hours later.

  Four women were twerking in my kitchen when I walked inside.

  I stopped in the entryway and glanced back. I had the right house, right?

  Then, I started recognizing them.

  Cheyenne was the one wearing the hockey pads with my Mustangs’ t-shirt underneath. She had a black ski-mask pulled down over her face, and her body I’d recognize under anything.

  The blonde hair poking out from under a hockey helmet must’ve been the Not-Russian.

  The black hair coming from underneath a goalie hockey helmet that a girl gifted me one time because she had no clue what position I played was Melanie.

  The last one was a puzzle, until she did a flip and I recognized those arms. Cassie. She dug those elbows into my body on a regular basis.

  Of course. I should’ve guessed immediately.

  It took me a minute because she was wearing a gorilla mask. Where the fuck did they find a gorilla mask?

  I shut the door, and all four gasped, whirling toward me.

  I raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you heard, considering I could hear your music turning onto the block.” I lived at the end of my block. There were a lot of houses between here and there.

  “OH MY GOD!”

  Cheyenne pulled off her ski mask and looked ready to faint. She took a step backwards. “I completely lost track of time.” She glanced at the rest. “And I’m the sober one.”

  As if they’d practiced, the other three all started laughing.

  The vodka had been pulled out. The rum was next to it. Someone was drinking whisky, and a bunch of mixers were scattered over the kitchen island. The whole kitchen rank of booze.

  “Hi, hi, hi.” Cheyenne came over, reaching up and giving me a kiss. “It was…uh…”

  “Cheyenne.” The regular helmet was scowling.

  The goalie helmet added, “Learn to lie, woman. It’s a good goal to have in life.”

  “I know how to lie,” she hissed at them, her hands curling into my shirt. (The one I was wearing.) She looked back at them, then me, back at them, and swung right to me. She was chewing her lip as she did.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I gave pity, asking instead.

  “Oh, fuck.” Sasha stepped forward, pulling her helmet off. “We came over to mess with Chad’s phone.”

  I let that sink in for a bit.

  Then, looked down at Cheyenne, who waved. “Hi.”

  Hi, my ass.

  “Did you tell?”

  “Only Sasha.”

  Through the goalie helmet, “Uh, but now that I know there’s something to be told, she’s going to be telling me, too.”

  I cut my gaze to Cassie, who had pulled off the gorilla mask. Her hair stuck up, frizzing. Her eyes were wide and she shook her head. “I won’t even ask. How about that?”

  Jesus.

  I bent my head down, my forehead resting against the side of Cheyenne’s head. “I sent him away for you.”

  She turned more into me and whispered to my chest, “They won’t tell. I promise.”

  Christ.
r />   “That was for you.”

  “I know, and I really appreciate it.” She lifted those eyes up to mine. A whole wave of something strong rushed through me. Then she added, “They’re my family.”

  Fuck.

  I groaned. “I’m going to regret this.”

  “No, you won’t. I promise that, too.”

  Still. I just sent someone out of the country whom I considered family, so my confidence was a little shaky on that front.

  I hugged her, hard, because I needed that. “Okay. Trusting you.”

  “Are you going to ask what we did with his phone?”

  I didn’t know who asked that question, and I didn’t look up as I shook my head. “No way in hell.”

  Someone whispered, “Plausible deniability.”

  45

  Cheyenne

  Cut was leaving for an away game today, and waking up, I didn’t want to move from the bed. My bladder did, but my heart was holding firm.

  I rolled over, and Cut was staring right at me. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Then, I grinned. “Not so long ago, I might’ve rolled to the floor and army-crawled to the bathroom before running and hiding behind the tree hedges on the sidewalk.”

  His eyebrows went up. “That’s what you did that morning?”

  I nodded. “Not my finest decisions.”

  He grunted, then softened. “It worked out.”

  “It did.”

  I stretched, smiling at him, and I was feeling all these mushy feelings. Someone like me didn’t get these feelings, and if we did, we lost ’em right away. They were taken from us. It was the rule of the universe, but damn. I’d fallen so hard for him.

  No. I’d already been there, just had to let myself remember those feelings.

  “What’s wrong? I can see it on you.”

  As always, Cut saw me. Well, except for those times in high school when he had no clue who I was.

  And that reminded me. “I went to a hockey party at Silvard, when you were there.”

  “Really?” He sat up, sitting against the backboard.

  I nodded, rising up to sit back on my knees. My ass was on my heels. “You didn’t go to a lot of the parties, so I only went to the big ones.”