Page 35 of The Outsider

It had the potential to change lives. Or at least, she kind of liked to think that it did. These books hadn’t changed her life.

Not yet.

What made her so uncomfortable about Daughtry looking at them was it was clear she wanted them to. That she wantedsomethingto.

She was pathetic.

Absolutely pathetic.

There was a stark knock on the door and she jumped.

“What?”

The door pushed open. “Bix,” he said. “What exactly would you like to eat?”

“What are my options? I mean, sorry. You don’t need to do that for me.”

“I don’t need to do what?”

“Cook me something, or whatever you’re preparing to do.” She sniffed. “I’m totally fine just staying here by myself. I can rummage through the freezer.”

“I’m going to stay with you.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because,” he said, his voice sounding rough, frustrated, “I’m bound and determined to take care of you, you silly little varmint.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, I don’t understand your book collection. Or why you’re resisting so hard.”

“They’re just books.”

“They don’t look like just books to me. They look like goals. Dreams.”

She scoffed. “I don’t have dreams.”

“Everybody has dreams,” he said.

“Bullshit, Sheriff. What’s your dream, then?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I guess it’s to just keep doing the best that I can. To continue to repair my family’s reputation in the town. And to expand the ranch.”

“You have a brick,” she said.

“What?”

“The ranch. It’s your brick. Your foundation. I’m not making excuses, not really. But my dad took my brick and threw it through the window. I’m the proud owner of a generational smash and grab. I don’t have anything to start a foundation with.” She shook herhead. “No one dreams of this. Nobody dreams of that crappy orange van that I had hidden out in the woods. Nobody dreams of having to stay in a bedroom in a stranger’s house. I have been so far away from living any kind of dream for so long that I just quit. Maybe if you’re a different kind of kid you can dream. A kid holding a brick. Listen, it sounds like your family wasn’t great. But you all have this, and you have each other. I don’t have that.”

“But you don’t have these books for nothing.”

“Toilet paper is expensive. In this economy you have to be creative.”

“I don’t believe that,” he said.

“I don’t understand why you care. Are you just desperate to try to find something in me to justify this ridiculous act of charity that you’re engaging in? Daughtry, it’s not... It’s not there. I’m not going to give you what you want. I’m going to work here, and I’m going to move on. And the fact of the matter is, even if I started out doing something different, I would just go back to what I know. Been there. Done that. Got the ill-fitting T-shirt. I’ve had real jobs. A couple of different times. The juvenile record got expunged. That was supposed to be my chance. I have had a fresh start. But I don’t know what to do with them. Because eventually, it gets hard. Eventually, I reached the end of knowing what to do. Eventually, I reached the end of my own strength. And I go right back. To my dad, my brother, to their friends. And that ends at brewing moonshine in the middle of the woods.”

He shifted, but he didn’t look shocked or angry by her outburst. It was one of the more annoying things about him. He just wasn’t reactive.

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