The Not-Outcast by Tijan
7
Cheyenne
Unknown: It’s true?
The first text woke me.
I checked the time. It was just past midnight.
A second text buzzed in as I was sitting up.
Unknown: You’re Chad’s stepsister? Cheyenne.
I was going out on a limb here…
Me: This is Cut?
Unknown: Yes. I saw you, sent him to grab your digits for me. He recognized you.
Cut: You’re Chad’s sister?
Me: Technically, no. Deek and his mom divorced.
Cut: Same thing. Both Hunter’s siblings.
I sighed.
Me: Yes.
Cut: That’s why you ditched?
I paused. If I said yes, I’d be lying. I didn’t like liars.
Gah. Another sigh.
Me: No.
He didn’t text again that night.
* * *
The text camethe next day, at nine in the morning.
Cut: Why then?
I’d just pulled into Come Our Way’s parking lot and turned the engine off. Grabbing my phone, I almost oversipped my coffee at the same time. Crap. I usually sipped with caution. My favorite coffee place liked to overheat the heat, you know? It burned my throat, but I read his text and felt a different sort of burning.
Regret.
And need. Sexual need.
Not heart need, because I was still clamping down on the feelings department there. And go me because that took effort. A lot of effort.
Six times, folks. Six. Times.
I sat back and typed.
Me: I don’t like liars.
Cut: I’m not a liar.
Me: No. I know you aren’t. I’m setting the parameters.
Cut: What parameters? I want to know why you ditched.
Me: And I’m trying to explain my response ahead of time.
A pause.
Cut: The fuck?
I grinned at that.
Me: I don’t want to tell you why.
Cut: Why?
A third sigh from these text messages.
Me: Just...I can’t explain.
I waited.
And waited.
I sat in my car and I gripped my phone, and I kept waiting because this time I wanted him to respond.
I needed him to respond.
He didn’t respond.
* * *
His response cameat six that evening.
Cut: Dinner.
I was serving dinner to those at the shelter, felt my phone buzz, and stepped away from the line. There was a volunteer helping out, so I headed for my office and read his text.
Me: ?
Cut: Explain over dinner.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say, but I was feeling things. I was doing all sorts of feeling. My heart was starting to pound in my chest. My hands got clammy.
He wanted to still see me?
I didn’t know how I felt. A wave of relief, but nerves all jumbled together.
Cut: You are the one who rolled out of my bed.
A fourth sigh.
Me: Fine. When for dinner?
Cut: Thursday night. We’re away, then volunteer at your place Wednesday and Thursday. I can do that night and I’m on the road again this weekend.
My stomach started doing somersaults because whoa. I’d get to see him three times this week. A group of them were volunteering for the brunch shift, and they had a home game on Thursday.
Cut: After the game that night.
Then that would most likely be drinks, not dinner. I guess he ate late, probably needing the calories after his game.
I already knew what I was going to say, hence the sweaty palms and the hitch that turned into a wheeze in my breathing, and I could’ve pulled my own hair out from the nerves. So. Many. Feelings! It was almost too much and this was just over texting. Hence, why I rolled and ran that morning.
Me: Fine.
Cut: You’ll be at the game? Or that last game was a fluke?
Me: Yes. I’ll be there. Same seats.
Cut: Get a ride there. I’ll drive us after.
Just like that, I had a date.
My hands were now shaking and sweaty.