The Not - Outcast

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.44CutThree 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.”