The Outcasts Read online

  I felt my mom's smile on my back as I answered the door, and I tried to suppress the burgeoning beginnings of a blush. Corinth stood in the doorway, towering over me, a hand behind his back and the other one on his hip. He wore a lopsided grin that gave me goose bumps. His mop of hair was carefully fixed to look like a disheveled mess and when he brushed a hand through his locks, parts of it stood on end, which only made his hair look that much better.

  His eyes widened as he took in my appearance. He'd never seen me in a dress before and I could tell he was surprised. “Is that lipstick, Collins?”

  “Is that hair gel, Taylor?” I quipped right back.

  His smile widened and he pulled a hand from behind his back and showed me the flowers he'd pulled from my Mom's flower bed out front.

  “You haven't given me flowers since I was twelve,” I said in awe, plucking them from his outstretched hands so I could go throw them in some water before Mom could embarrass me further.

  “I thought tonight was a good night for old traditions,” he said with a wink.

  On the way out, my mom waved at us and gave me an I-told-you-so-grin as I ushered him out of the house.

  Corinth rushed past me to open the passenger door for me. “Your carriage awaits, my lady.”

  “Where's James Bond's car to accompany that accent?” I said with a grin and got inside.

  “Well, that's where you're wrong; it's more of a medieval thing, like King Arthur's Court, so you should be asking me where our horse drawn carriage is, technically.”

  I glanced around and threw my hands in the air. “And all we're stuck with is an old, faded Crown Vic.”

  He jumped into the driver's seat and said, “The Crown Vic is a classic.”

  “So, where are we going?” I asked.

  He gave me a mischievous grin as he backed out of my driveway. “You'll see.”

  “Why do I get the impression that you're up to no good?”

  “Because I'm always up to no good.”

  We pulled away from the curb and for the first time in a long time, I felt happy. I mean it sounds like a simple thing, to be happy. But these days it wasn't exactly a common emotion. For me. Corinth seemed to sense my upbeat mood because he kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye with a goofy grin on his face. It was nice to be in comfortable silence with him without the pressure to tell him all of the things I'd rehearsed earlier, even though I did plan on eventually telling him.

  I recognized the old mini golf place we used to go to when we were in middle school as we pulled into the parking lot. I had to give him credit; he remembered I loved this place. It smelled like popcorn and hotdogs, two of my favorite things. The sirens, dings, and beeps assailed us as we walked past the arcade, which was filled with screaming kids and frustrated parents.

  I glanced down to my hand and then to his. Should I grab it? He didn't make a move, so I chose to hold my hands down by my side and follow his lead. Wearing this dress made me feel suddenly insecure. I felt everyone's eyes on me as we walked by.

  When we finally got outside, the sky was fading from a deep bruised color to black. Even though it was still hot out, I could tell it was going to be a much cooler night than the previous one. I breathed in the heady scent of butter and fried goodness and sighed.

  Corinth shoved my shoulder as we waited in line to get our putters. “I don't think I've ever seen you wear a dress before.”

  I shrugged but couldn't help noticing that he smelled of fresh soap and Mountain Dew—sugar and zest of lemon. When he saw me gawking, I turned and blushed, hoping I hadn't lit up the night around us. “Don't think you're going to butter me up for a win, tonight? I plan on wiping the floor with you.”

  “I don't need to butter anyone up with skills like these.”

  I rolled my eyes to avoid his stare. After a second, I turned back and cleared my throat. Be brave, Larna. Just tell him how you feel. This is a new you. I was with Corinth and I was wearing a dress and it looked like we were on a date. I guess we were on a date. I could almost see the steam rushing out of his ears as I inched closer to him right as a kid in a blue baseball cap raced past us to meet up with his dad at the counter. Corinth took an involuntary step back to avoid the collision and hit the counter, which in turn knocked over a gigantic display of golf balls. They bounced onto the pavement and around the course like multi-colored raindrops.

  The kid working behind the counter swore under his breath and several teens playing on the last hole started laughing.

  I couldn’t help it, I started laughing, and so did Corinth. It was the dejected face the employee was making as he scurried out from around his desk to chase the escapees across the course and in that moment, Corinth bent down and planted one on me. His face was scrunched up in anticipation and I didn't have time to react. I knew my eyes were as round as saucers. In the grand scheme of things, I wished I'd done a better job on my end. Even though it wasn't the most ideal of circumstances, his lips were soft and pleasantly cool.

  I enjoyed the fluttery, light-as-a-feather sensation in my chest as he pulled back. I could tell he was stunned he’d summoned up the courage to kiss me.

  I savored the fact that I could still imagine the pressure of his lips against mine. It was refreshing and unexpected.

  Putting a hand over his mouth, he cleared his throat and said, “Game on.”

  Maybe this was the side of him that Madison Bristow had fallen for when they dated. It was the most forward I'd ever seen him, and the way his cheeks flooded with heat was about as adorable as you could get.

  I wound my fingers through his, grinning from ear-to-ear and led him to the front of the counter to grab our putters and score cards.

  Later, we stopped for ice cream sundaes between rounds and finished the last hole with me squeaking out the win. To be fair, he did suck at mini golf. As we drove back to my place, the conversation we'd been waiting for started, causing my heart to suddenly hammer in anticipation.

  “So, I really had fun to—”

  “—I enjoyed tonight.”

  We had both spoken at the same time and we laughed as Corinth pulled up at the curb in front of my house.

  I suddenly didn't want this night to be over.

  He'd given me my first kiss.

  “I'm really going to miss you,” he said quietly and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was just as nervous as I was, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

  I nodded and gave him a shy smile. “I'll miss you, too.”

  “Well, I guess this is it for a few months. Um, have you thought about what I asked you...I mean back at the restaurant?”

  I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and ran a sweaty hand across my lap. This was now or never. Have courage, Collins. “I have—and I like you, too... I think once I'm back from my trip—”

  Corinth raised a hand, interrupting me. “I know where you’re going with this and I agree. You’ve got a lot going on. Once you get back, let’s have a real conversation about us.” I could feel his eyes boring into mine. His silent pleading of me being on the same page was of paramount importance.

  He was right. I needed to focus on finding my father so I could grill him for answers about why he hid his journal and why he left our family without a word goodbye.

  Corinth pulled my hand into his and I couldn't ignore the butterflies flaring up in my stomach at the sudden contact. “You know what this means, right?”

  I shook my head.

  “It means this will be the longest summer to date.” He leaned toward me and for one brief second I thought he was going to kiss me again, but instead came a quick hug. The hug felt different, though. Maybe it was the warm after-glow of happiness from tonight’s events that gave me a different outlook. Now that high school was over, things were definitely looking up.

  Chapter 6

  IT WAS DARK WHEN I walked into my house. It felt empty. I had expected to see my mom waiting up for me. Instead, the only thing that greeted
me was the ticking of the wall clock. I reached up and ran a hand over my lips, thinking about the kiss I’d shared with Corinth at the beginning of our date. The swirly-airy feeling in the pit of my stomach came flooding back as I ran through the events of the night once again. What a date. My excitement was a mixture of my feelings for Corinth and the giddiness of the unknown for my upcoming trip. My flight left at the crack of dawn and all of my belongings were already packed in one large bag, ready to go. Traveling light was the key to getting around quick. I'd planned on changing hotels to save money along the way and had done considerable research when it came to hostels in the area.

  Three months was a long time to be away, practically forever. I'd never been anywhere by myself and the thought of having to figure out the airport, find a taxi and get to where I needed to go, suddenly threatened to overwhelm me—but the lights flipped on and brought me crashing back to reality.

  Mom stood in the living room with her arms folded over her chest and a smile plastered on her face.

  “Uh, hey,” I said, giving her a half-grin.

  She flung herself forward and grabbed my hands in hers. “I thought we could catch up on some Scrabble before you leave, what do you think?”

  I turned to see that the coffee table was set up and ready to go. She had planned this out perfectly and it brought a smile to my face.

  “I got us some soda and popcorn,” she said proudly.

  “It looks great. But there's just one problem with that.”

  She bit her lip and glanced away looking crestfallen. “What's that?”

  “You're going down.”

  She gave me one of her rare hugs, almost squeezing the life out of me. It felt like having her back, the way she used to be when Dad was still around. And I'm not gonna lie, I started to have second thoughts about leaving her alone for so long.

  “I'm going to miss you,” she whispered.

  “You going to be okay without me?” I led her to the table and we sat as I searched her eyes.

  Mom raised an eyebrow in defiance. “As long as you stay in constant contact and promise to have a blast.”

  “That, I can do.”

  We shared another hug and I used the rest of my short night to squash her attempts at boasting that she had the best vocabulary on the block. That title still belonged to me.

  ***

  My flight landed in London/Gatwick airport. Nine hours cramped between two people who kept giving me dirty looks the whole trip for having to use a seat belt extender was not a great way to start my travels. Fat girl problem number forty-five.

  Jet-lagged and limping along with dull lower back pain, I yanked my luggage behind me in complete exhaustion. I wish someone would have warned me about how bad this feeling was going to be.

  As I dragged myself through the automated airport exit doors and out into the cool summer air, I breathed deep for what seemed like the first time in forever. I swear the airplane oxygen had been alarmingly suffocating.

  The weather was already shaping up to be way more pleasant than any of our summer's back home.

  I fished my phone from my pocket, thinking about Corinth, but realized my phone bill was going to be astronomical, so I settled for a quick text, instead. The thought of his goofy corkscrew smile made me miss him already. In my text I told him I had landed and would touch base with him later. I texted my mom and told her the same.

  Weaving my way in and out of the long line of tourists, I consulted my map and slipped into the taxi line right as someone spoke behind me.

  “You'll be waiting a right long time in that line.”

  I turned around to see a man leaning against a light post watching me with interest, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. I almost let out a chortle when I saw his mustache. It had to be the longest handle bar 'stache I'd ever seen. The man wasn't tan and what little I could see of his teeth were heavily stained, but he had an honest face. He certainly seemed as relaxed as anyone I'd ever met.

  “Sorry?” I asked.

  “A Yank, eh. Where you from, then?”

  I glanced around, still unsure about speaking to a total stranger. Something about him felt genuine, so I said, “Texas.”

  He gave me a wide grin and I wondered how he managed to keep the cigarette so expertly poised between his teeth. “Where you headin', love?”​

  I glanced at several airport security personnel across the way. He saw me looking at them and nodded in understanding.

  “Relax, love.” He threw a glance across the street and I followed his gaze, which had landed on an old faded yellow Beetle parked with one wheel on the curb. Black letters read: TAXI.

  “You've got to be kidding,” I said under my breath.

  He gave me an offended look. "Course not."

  I twisted around to glance at the ever growing line of people and sighed. This was probably going to be my best shot at getting out of here before the sun set, so I made my first big decision. “Um, well how much to The Swan hotel in Bromham?”

  “Bedfordshire? That's a long trip.”

  “How much?” I repeated, fiddling with the strap on my duffle as Handlebar pretended to count on his fingers. It was for dramatic effect, but it wasn't going to work on me.

  “That kind of trip... plus my time—it'll be £160. It's the best deal you'll get for a jaunt that far.” He shot a look in the direction of the long line, again. “Or, you can just wait in that queue.”

  I had learned a little about converting US dollars to the British Pound, but I was starting to get a headache from lack of food intake and I didn't want to argue too much, so I countered with what was probably a higher offer than I’d meant to pay. “I'll give you £125.”

  Handlebar stuck his hand out for me to shake, “Done. Name's Paul.”

  I took his callused hand in mine and shook it. “Larna Collins.”

  The VW's right front fender was dented and bits of yellow rusted paint had flaked off in random places. Nice wheels. I guess as long as it ran, I'd be fine.

  Paul grabbed my bag for me, threw it into the small trunk, and slammed it down so hard my teeth rattled.

  I yanked the stiff door open. It gave a groan of protest as I pulled myself into the back seat. How long had it been since he had a passenger in here? I leaned forward and checked his driver ID in the window. It read: Paul Leonard.​

  “You ever been to England before, love?” he asked as he put the beater into gear and flung us out onto the airport tarmac.

  I shook my head and gritted my teeth at how fast he was traveling. “First time.” I pulled my seat belt on and hoped I'd made the right decision.

  “Vacation?” he asked off-handedly.

  “Something like that.” This was far from a standard vacation.

  “Don't mind me, Larna. I just like to pass the time talking. My radio's buggered.” He tapped the dashboard lovingly with a finger.

  Suddenly the feeling of being all alone hit me. I wished Corinth was here with me, navigating the mean streets of London. But I was finally here and taking charge of my life. This would be good.

  Closing my eyes, I curled my fingers into the seat cushion trying to alleviate some of the anxiety and exhaustion that had settled into the tops of my shoulders. What was I thinking? Now that I was here, this seemed like a bad idea. I didn't like to do things by myself, I wasn't an expert traveler or an out-of-the-box thinker. I was just here to find my dad. This was the craziest thing I'd ever done in my life.

  “Everything okay?” The voice sounded far away as I blinked my eyes open.

  My head hurt and I was starving.

  “You've been asleep for almost an hour.” Paul glanced at me through the rearview mirror.

  “I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep. Where are we?” I said, stretching out as much as I could in the cramped space.

  “Just outside of London. Your snoring was something else,” he said with a snort.

  I shrugged and watched the countryside roll by. Everything was lush a
nd vibrant and unpopulated. We'd made it through the entire city and I'd missed it.

  A sign flew by that said – M1.

  Little white specks dotted the hillsides as we blurred past and I realized they were sheep. If the VW had a window I would have rolled it down. Instead, I was trapped with the smell of stale cigarettes.

  Feeling the need to fill the awkward silence, I asked, “You from here?”

  I could hear the eagerness in his voice at the prospect of conversation. “Born and raised. I've been to the States before, though.”

  “Oh yeah, what part?” I didn't really care but it was a way to pass the time and he seemed excited to talk about the States.

  “New York—reminds me of London.” I watched in remorse as he started to light a fresh cigarette. I coughed hoping he'd get the hint, but he didn't notice. “I've never been to New York. I'd like to visit, though.”

  “Well worth the visit. So what does your name mean? Larna is interesting, I've never heard that before,” Paul asked.

  I shrugged and muttered, “I'm not really sure. I think my Dad must've known the grief it would cause me.”

  “What do you mean?” His questioning eyes met mine before he glanced back to the road.

  “I just used to get teased a lot.” I didn't know why I told him; it wasn't something I shared with strangers but for some reason, I felt comfortable around him. “Lardo Collins is what they call me.”

  “People are arseholes.” Paul's voice had softened and his knuckles had turned white as he gripped the steering wheel in concern.

  To my utter surprise, I found myself laughing at the genuine concern and conviction in his voice.

  I didn't know him from Adam, but he seemed so upset that I'd been teased in the past that I couldn't help but feel my mood instantly lift, headache and all.

  Our conversation lulled into silence as we flew down the highway. It was nice to have time to think, so I pulled my father's journal from my bag and examined it for the thousandth time. After awhile when I looked back up, Paul was staring at me with an odd expression on his face.

  As soon as he caught me looking, he quickly focused his attention back on the road.