The Not-Outcast

by Tijan

  He sighed, leaning his head back. “Like I told you, I was all about hockey.” His gaze fell down to the opening between my breasts. The cleavage was loose and open with this tank. I considered sleeping in his shirt, but Cut gets hot in bed. And he cuddles. Hence the tank instead of a full-on shirt. I was happy I picked this one now.

  His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head to the side. “I missed out on a lot.”

  “But you’re doing your dream.”

  “I am. Yeah.”

  I narrowed my eyes now back at him, my head cocking to reflect his. “Are you not happy with where you’re at?”

  He picked up my hand, but he didn’t tug me toward him. He played with my fingers, running his up and down and around my palm.

  I was trying to ignore the tickling that was mixing with the sensual sensations. Both were zipping through me.

  He murmured, lifting my palm to fit against his, our fingers flat, “I would’ve wanted you back then.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have.”

  “I would’ve.”

  “You saw me in high school, and you didn’t.”

  “Once.” He gave me an admonishing grin, holding up a finger.

  I reached for it, and he laughed, catching my hand instead, and this time he tugged me onto his lap.

  I fitted over him, straddling him, and I leaned back. Our faces were inches away from each other. We stared at each other.

  His eyes roamed over my face, falling to my lips. “I remember you in high school.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “No. I remember you. It took a beat. I didn’t remember right away, but you were leaving here the other morning and you looked back. You said, “Hey.” And I remembered you. I remembered liking you, too, but then one of the girls asked me about my hockey game, and when I looked back, you were gone.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He nodded, his hands falling to my hips and he started kneading me there. His thumbs slipped under my underwear. “I looked for you later, too, but I never saw you again. I thought one time I did, but by the time I caught up to you, it wasn’t you. It was some other girl.”

  “I was in the car when Chad had to come out to talk to Natalie.”

  My heart pounded. I had no idea why it mattered. It shouldn’t. It was so long, so trivial, so minute, but… it did. It mattered.

  “I couldn’t see you. And he told me that his mom had to give some girl a ride home.” He lifted up a hand to my chest, pressing it flat between my breasts. He felt how hard it was pounding. “I don’t believe in love at first sight. Never have, but I know it exists for some people. I also don’t believe that you and I aren’t going to work out if I hadn’t remembered you in school. People are people. Boys are generally stupid at that age, and usually only thinking about sex. I was thinking about sex and hockey, mostly hockey. But I’m not lying about when I remembered you and I remembered noticing you.”

  I had no voice, not for a second.

  He had noticed me.

  There was this sadness flooding me, but that didn’t make sense. I couldn’t understand that either, but I choked out, “I developed a way of thinking and talking that overrode what my senses were telling me. I got so overwhelmed by them, that it was a reverse way of handling the world. Or that’s what the psychologists told me, but they told me I was crazy.”

  “They used that word?”

  “It’s a word and it’s mine to use, about me. No one else can use it about me. It’s my word to own.” Another nod. Another knot in my throat. “One did. A couple did. And nurses. A counselor. I’ve had a lot of counselors.”

  He let out another deep pocket of air, his hand moving to cup the back of my head. “I’m sorry.”

  I looked up, meeting and holding his gaze, and for one heartbeat, we were one. Just one. He got me.

  His eyes darkened.

  I couldn’t help myself. I whispered, “Please don’t love me and then throw me away.” I couldn’t look at him when I said that.

  He didn’t answer.

  I shouldn’t have said that.

  Why did I do these things? Say these things? Always at the wrong time.

  I was always so inappropriate.

  I couldn’t read the room.

  That meant I couldn’t even read him right, and I was sitting on his lap.

  My stress was rising.

  My panic.

  The air was stifling me, pressing down, and I could smell everything.

  I could feel everything.

  I was noticing everything.

  Oh God.

  Why wasn’t he answering?

  I was frozen, still on his lap, and there was just silence from him.

  “Cheyenne,” he whispered.

  I felt him now. He was moving, but he was getting closer.

  I looked up, and he was right there. My nose brushed against his and his hand moved to touch the side of my face. He whispered back, “Never.”

  I was still in bed an hour later when his phone buzzed.

  “Can you grab that for me?” Cut called from the shower.

  Unknown number: I’m bored af. Coming back. I’ll make things right. I promise.

  “Who’s it from?”

  My tongue was so heavy in my mouth, but I looked over. I blinked a few times, barely noticing how he had water dripping down his body and he was holding a towel only in front of his dick. And I could usually obsess over his dick, so my shock was saying a lot here.

  “Nut-Brother.”

  A wall slammed down over his face.

  I swallowed over a boulder inside. “He’s coming back.”

  He swore under his breath but went back in the bathroom.

  46

  Cheyenne

  I met Otis, JJ, and Maisie at The Way Station to watch Cut’s away game. Melanie joined us, and she became fast friends with all of them, so she worked her magic and my seat companions joined us going to Tits afterwards. Cut’s team won, which I knew that would’ve made him happy.

  He was planning on seeing his family since their away game wasn’t too far from where we grew up.

  I sent him a couple texts congratulating him and then asking him how the family was doing.

  He didn’t reply right away so I tucked my phone away when we got to Tits.

  Otis was bouncing off the wall. “I can’t believe you guys hang out here—” His words choked on themselves when he saw Sasha walking toward us.

  It looked straight out of a movie.

  Her hair was low, and long, so she must’ve added extensions. It touched the tops of her thighs, and she was wearing a black leather bodysuit.

  Melanie and I shared a look.

  Sasha was in her ‘secret agent’ mood.

  Chad must’ve reached out. I had shared with both that he was coming back, but word’s been quiet on The Chad front. I had zero expectations he would reach out to me, but he cared about Sasha and Cut. I wasn’t surprised at seeing the secret agent back in place.

  She came over, grunting her one-word answers, and we all morphed into our usual personalities. I was using ‘dude’ and ‘rad’ and ‘rightio’ every third sentence. Melanie was ‘fuck’ this and ‘fuck’ that, and lots of references to shitting.

  Otis, JJ, and Maisie loved it. All of it.

  Maisie was whispering, “Awesome,” under her breath when one of the bouncers brought over her drink. She couldn’t get over that, but there were enough guys milling around for security, so whoever was free brought Sasha’s drinks over. Sasha’s and her guests’. That was usually the guys, so it made sense to us. And they wanted to hear about Cut, but I had put them off at the bar, saying there were too many prying ears. And there had been. That same server from before had been there, so I just used her as an excuse, then apologized to her later by giving her an extra tip. She had no clue it was for throwing her under the bus, but my soul knew. My soul needed to make it right.

  It was later, after Melanie crashed on my couch and I was getting ready for
bed, that I saw Cut had texted back.

  Cut: Thanks. It was a tough game. They’re a good team.

  Cut: You around? Could do with a phone call with you.

  Cut: Okay. Assuming you’re out with the girls. Miss you.

  Cut: And I did notice you.

  I was smiling so wide and so big when I texted back.

  Me: Have fun with your fam tomorrow.

  I got up for the bathroom a couple hours later and checked my phone when I crawled back in bed.

  Cut: Always. Missing you. Have a good day.

  My heart flipped over. I was tired, the sun was just starting to peek out. I had another hour and a half to sleep, but I grabbed my phone.

  Me: Always. Missing you. Have a good day too.

  Cut: Smartass. Go back to sleep.

  Me: You too.

  Cut: Already on it.

  Me: Overachiever.

  Cut: Ha!

  Cut: Miss sleeping with you.

  Another heart flip.

  Me: Me too.

  47

  Cheyenne

  I did yoga and ran five miles this morning.

  To quote Melanie, ‘Fuck yes.’ I was doing it.

  I had my shit under control. Wrapped up tight.

  All the wrapping…and I had an extra bounce in my step as I was going into Come Our Way.

  Hard cardio in the mornings.

  Eight hours of sleep… that was really more like four since Cut and I had been talking on the phone, and then my brain had a hard time shutting down after. But not a big deal.

  I was eating healthy. Like, super fucking healthy.

  I was drinking so much water that I was over-hydrated.

  My brain was working. The cylinders weren’t overfiring.

  No booze. My only stimulant was caffeine.

  Meditation.

  Medication …

  I stopped in mid-step.

  Medication.

  Shit.

  I’d forgotten to take my meds this morning. And I was thinking, remembering…

  I couldn’t remember the last time I took them.

  Backup.

  I thought my cylinders weren’t overfiring, but maybe I was wrong.

  I’d forgotten my meds, and feeling rising panic, I hurried to my office. Dean was coming out of his office, his coffee raised in greeting to me, but I muttered a quick reply and went around him. I was scrambling by now. My heart was trying to pound its way out of my chest.

  I sat down, dug into my purse and pulled out my bottle. We weren’t supposed to travel with them, but shit, sometimes I had to, and I was running down the days and the numbers of pills I was counting out.

  I was five extra.

  Five days.

  Five, that meant I forgot on Sunday.

  Where had I been on Saturday? At Cut’s. I slept over, and the morning had been fantastic, and that’s why I forgot. Monday I was at his place again. Tuesday…I watched the game and I’d been out and about. Melanie crashed over that night.

  I just forgot. Every day.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  This wasn’t good.

  Last time this happened, I spiraled. You forget one thing this day, another thing the next day. Your mind is moving a little bit faster, clearer, and you go with it, but you’re forgetting and you’re forgetting that you’re even forgetting. So you don’t remember what you’re supposed to be remembering. Made sense, right?

  No. It doesn’t.

  It makes no sense, because your fucking brain doesn’t stop and add in stress. Add in one thing you forgot from a perfect recipe where you have to follow anything to have a semblance of a normal day for someone else, and you’re exhausted from just trying to be normal that you forget one fucking thing.

  The whole pile falls over.

  Down.

  You’re fucked and you don’t realize you’re fucked until you’re so fucked that it’s currently happening. And you’re beyond fixing anything because meds take time to get in your blood circulation. Everything takes time.

  Time. Time. Time.

  You don’t have time sometimes when you’re trying so hard to be normal, and—yep, I was spinning. Right now. Right here. In my office, and I had a staff meeting, and they’d know because I was recognizing the speed of my own thoughts.

  Racing.

  Speeding.

  I was no longer driving the bus.

  The bus was getting out from under me. I was more on the side of the bus.

  I’d be a passenger in the bus, and that was always bad.

  There goes the camper that my bus was pulling. The fucking mental struggles I had, all in that camper, all behind me, and I was pulling them along, but pretending we were all copacetic together. There it is. It’s unhitched and it’s passing me and we’re all in a busy city intersection and that shit is going to crash into someone else’s car, and I have no control over any of it, because if I wanted to keep in control, I needed to not forget my fucking pills five days ago!

  The room was starting to go around me.

  My blood pressure was steaming.

  Sweat trickled down my spine.

  My hands were clammy.

  My chest was getting tight.

  Oh great. Hello, panic attack. This was a great time for you to join this sad and pathetic party.

  A knock on my door.

  “Who is it?” I cringed, not knowing if my voice even sounded normal anymore.

  “Hey.” It opened and it was Reba. She was frowning, but to be honest, I was more paying attention to the three people at the coffee machine, and the smell of whatever Boomer was cooking, and—what did she just say?

  She was looking at me.

  She’d already said it.

  Crap.

  “I’m sorry. What’d you say?”

  I had to concentrate this time. Harder. The hardest. The hardiest of the hard…and I missed it again.

  She was frowning, and then a bulb clicked on and she came inside.

  Oh, that helped. A little.

  But I could hear the voices outside, and the clatter of pots and pans, and was there a larger than usual amount of people here today?

  I must’ve asked Reba that, and she was looking at me all concerned. Shit. She knew. I walked inside with an extra bounce in my step, thinking I’d been slaying this dragon, and now I was in full-fledged panic attack mode even before the worst of the worse got to me.

  “Cheyenne.”

  She was speaking calm, and low, and she totally knew.

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you off your meds?”

  An unhinged laugh came out of me, and before I knew it, I was laughing like a banshee. Head bent over my desk and I couldn’t stop. Full freak-out here I come.

  It wasn’t usually this bad, or so soon. The panic hysteria was extra because Cut was coming back today. This morning. He might already be here.

  I think he was, actually.

  He said something about a meeting downtown, too. Or was that tomorrow?

  I should’ve texted him.

  Had I already?

  Had he not texted me back?

  Was he getting sick of me already?

  But no. I was remembering that we had texted last night and there’d been a good morning text from him when I woke up, but he was on the plane. They did come back super early today.

  I couldn’t remember the reason, but there’d been a reason.

  Wait. Was that today? Tomorrow?

  I was losing time now, too.

  The charity event was tomorrow night, and last time I handled it by jumping into his pool and swimming for thirty minutes. This time, I didn’t know what to do. More running? I already ran five miles. I already did yoga.

  I was already eating healthy.

  I was already doing meditation.

  I was already trying so hard to be so fucking perfect and no one got it.

  “Hey, hey.”

  Another knock on my door. This one was rough and abrupt, and the door opene
d. Dean came in, not looking, not waiting for permission. He took a step inside, not even looking over, already saying, “We have a surprise for you.”

  Oh God.

  I closed my eyes and let my head hit the desk, cradled by my arms.

  Let me hide now, please world.

  “Get out!”

  “What? What’s going on? Cheyenne?”

  “No. Out. Now. You knock and then wait for permission to come in. What if she’d been changing clothes, huh? What if she’d been on a private call? What if she just found out her grandmother was dead?”

  “What? I’m confused. Her grandmother passed away?” He dropped his voice. “She never talks about family. I had no clue.”

  Reba made a gargling frustrated growl. “Out. Now. And while we’re at it, meeting’s postponed till tomorrow.”

  “What?! I have to finalize everything for tomorrow. I need to loop you guys in on everything.”

  “Oh, why do you care now? You didn’t care when you made the decision to move forward with the event, and you’re the one who decided the invite list. This is your thing. You handle it on your own.”

  “We have celebrities coming today to help serve. I wanted to tell Cheyenne who they were. What’s going on? Is there something going on I need to know about?”

  “Out. Now.” Reba was firm, and she really needed to do more than watch Netflix every night. I had a feeling she’d be a trip in Prankland Territory.

  I needed to gather myself, and I could do it.

  I was freaking out on the inside, but faking and forcing was another motto I enforced. I was enforcing it now, and lifting my head, I made out that Reba was standing in front of Dean. She’d actually gotten him back outside the door and he couldn’t see past her.

  I loved Reba. I really loved Reba.

  The rest of the room was swimming and blurring together. Little bubbles were showing everywhere, but I could do this. A deep breath. Another one. A third one.

  I dabbed at my eyes, making sure nothing leaked up there, and I wiped my hands over my face.

  Calm.

  Control.

  No.

  Fake.