The Not - Outcast

He swallowed, reaching for his second drink. “Yeah. I can see what you mean.”

Moving forward. “Her mom dies and she stays with her uncle. That ever hit you weird?”

His mouth opened, again.

His mouth shut, again.

He had nothing to say, again.

Except, “What are you getting at, Cut? You want me to light up the torches or something? I’m not going to do that. Deek’s not my bio dad, but I gotta say, he’s way better than the dad I did have. That guy was an asshole, and I love my mom. She did the best she could for us. If you’re trying to insinuate things a certain way, then back up because you’re wrong.”

I was out of patience. “Cheyenne doesn’t hassle. Ever. She runs. She hides. She doesn’t hassle. You spend more than two minutes around her, and not fucking glaring at her, you’d wake the fuck up. You’re dead wrong about her, and I don’t know what Deek and Natalie were thinking when—”

He shot up in his seat. “They were scared of her, okay?! Scared. I would be, too. I heard them talking to her social worker. They never knew I did, but I overheard the whole thing. Her file, she was crazy, and she spent more time on the streets than in an actual loving home. Think on that. Think about what that type of environment will produce. You want that coming into your house? No, thank you. I get where Deek and my mom are coming from. They were worried about their family. They just wanted to protect us. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

I had to take a beat, because I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Their family.

Protect ‘us.’

Crazy.

Streets.

‘You want that coming into your house?’

That. Not her.

He was set in stone.

He’d never get it right.

Deek and Natalie were so ingrained in him.

This was the same guy who helped check fuckers on the ice for me. He slept at my house. Ate at my parents’ table. He wrestled with my brothers. Played video games with us. I got drunk with this guy. Knew all about the girls he liked and the girls who liked him, and now I was staring at him and wondering where’d that guy go?

But he was the same. There was just this other side in him, one that wasn’t meshing with me.

“You’re quiet.” That was Chad speak for ‘what are you thinking?’

“Yeah. I am.” That was code for ‘I’m not liking what I’m hearing.’

His face twisted up in anger, and he jerked forward, hitting the table. He didn’t notice. Both his drink and mine spilled over. He didn’t notice that either.

“I don’t understand our issue here. What’s your problem? You want me to be nice to Cheyenne? Fine. I’ll be fucking perfect to her. Polite. I’ll open the door for her. Want me to bow to her?”

I was shaking my head, because Cheyenne’s words were coming back to me, and she was right.

“She knew.”

He stopped, a whole half-sneer showing. “She knew what?”

“She told me that you weren’t hurting her.”

He started to scoff, looking out over the club.

I added, “You’re hurting me.”

He looked back, the scoff disappearing.

“You’re hurting Hunter.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“And you’re hurting Sasha.”

A scowl started. “I don’t get this. I’ve fucked chicks you didn’t like—”

“It’s not about that. It’s not about you not liking Cheyenne. It’s about you being totally wrong about someone all of us care about. You like Sasha. I can tell.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts. You do. You say you do, then you say you don’t, then you’re breaking up with her, and then you’re screwing her brains out.”

“Nice, Cut.”

“That’s my point. You care enough, you care about how I’m talking about her. And I’m not even on the same level as how you’re talking about Cheyenne. ‘That.’ You called her ‘that.’”

He flinched.

I added, “You know the difference between how my family would’ve handled Cheyenne versus how yours did? My mom wouldn’t have looked at Cheyenne as a potential threat coming into the house. She would’ve seen a girl whose mom hadn’t been there for her, and she would’ve cried for her. Welcome fucking arms, man. Instead, Natalie probably hid the silverware. Two different drastic ways, and I can see that you’re still not getting it.”

“I—”

But he wasn’t. A whole blankness came over him when I was trying to explain it.

“What do you want from me?” He threw his hand in the air.

“Nothing. You can’t change your thoughts or your behaviors, and that’s what I’d need from you.” I started to stand up.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Chad did, too, hurrying to block me from walking away. An edge of panic came over his face. He held his hands up. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“You’re a hundred percent wrong about Cheyenne, but you need to realize it. And it’s not about you liking the girl I’m falling in love with.”