The Outliers (The Outliers, #1)(56)

Everything he says sounds like a question.

“A target?” Jasper asks. And he sounds mostly angry, but a little scared, too. “Are you kidding?”

Quentin shakes his head. “I mean, we don’t know if they’re here yet, but they’re trying to find us. We know that. But Wylie, I can take you up alone. Then I’ll come back and get everybody else?”

I’m already shaking my head. No, No, No. And I can’t get myself to stop shaking it, even though I can feel everyone is staring at me. But I do not want to go to Dr. Simons. I am too afraid of what he might tell me about my dad.

“No?” Jasper asks, like he doesn’t understand. And why would he?

“No,” I finally say out loud. Part of me actually hopes I’ll get away before I ever have to know what’s really going on.

“Then I’ll go,” Jasper offers.

“No,” Cassie says, and loud. “I mean, take me. I’m the one you brought here on purpose. I should be the one to talk to Dr. Simons.”

“I’d rather go first,” Jasper says, stepping back to squeeze Cassie’s fingers before heading again toward the door. Just in case he gets picked off crossing the lawn, that’s what he means. “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

Cassie and I stare in silence at the closed door for a long time.

“My dad’s research?” I ask finally. “No one has ever cared about his research in my entire life. And did you hear that? You were the one they really wanted? Why?”

Cassie shrugs, shakes her head. “Don’t look at me,” she says. But she doesn’t sound angry at my dad. Not nearly as angry as I want her to be.

Because I’m furious. Your condition. How f*cking dare he? Especially when all this time his bullshit research was the reason for this entire situation. All I want to do is get him back on the phone and tell him again just how much I really wish he’d been in the car that night. How can he be the parent I’m left with? A liar, so obsessed with his stupid job that he doesn’t even warn us that we might get mixed up in it.

“You know your mom was completely freaking out when she came to see us? My dad acted the whole time like he had no idea what was going on,” I say, in case Cassie isn’t getting the full picture of why he is a total monster.

“Whatever, my mom deserves to worry.” Cassie shrugs again. “Anyway, shouldn’t we at least wait until you know the whole story? Maybe your dad can explain.”

“That’s awfully generous of you,” I say, because she’s drifted into annoying territory. Cassie would never give Karen the benefit of the doubt about anything.

“I just don’t want you to worry, okay?”

And she means worry, worry. Like only I can. Her eyes then drift up to my hair. Like it proves her point, which, of course, it kind of does.

“What the hell did you do?” she asks.

“I looked like her,” I say. And it’s a relief to tell someone that pitiful truth. “In the mirror, she was all I could see. And I just—I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Cassie nods, still contemplating my hair, more matter-of-fact than concerned.

“Hold on, I have an idea,” she says, heading over to her bag on the floor.

I watch Cassie pick up her underwear and tuck it discreetly inside. When she stands up, she’s smiling, two hair ties raised in the air as she makes her way back over to me. “These are your only hope. Now, sit.”

I do as I’m told as Cassie’s hands move over the hacked strands of my hair like they are searching for a foothold.

“What was your underwear doing on top of your bag?” I ask, because I can’t shake the image of it sitting there. I mean, is she not wearing any?

And even if this whole thing has something to do with my dad’s research, there is still that disgusting guy outside guarding the door. It only makes me more worried when Cassie doesn’t answer my question. Instead, she stays quiet, fussing around my hair. I look up at her and put my hand over hers. “Cassie, seriously?”

She bites on her lip for a minute. When she finally looks at me, her eyes are glassy. “I wasn’t just downtown to get away from my mom when they picked me up. I went down there to see this guy. Another guy. I was going to go stay with him for a few days, try to freak my mom out. I guess it got pulled out when I grabbed my sweatshirt earlier.”

“Oh,” I say, trying not to sound disappointed.

“We weren’t together long,” she says. “A few months, I guess.” A few months? She and Jasper hadn’t been together much longer than that. “You want to know the most messed-up part?”

No, is what I think. “Sure,” is what I say, like nothing could be too messed up for me, her super-awesome, nonjudgmental best friend.

“I think I did it because Jasper is so great. At the beginning, I thought he was kind of an *, like you do. And even I deserve an *.”

“But he’s not an *,” I say. And even I’m sure of that much now.

“Nope, he’s like this exceptionally good person. Principled.” Cassie wipes at the tears that have filled her eyes. “Do you know he still sends the money he makes washing dishes at the IHOP to the guy his dad almost beat to death? Can you imagine washing dishes at an IHOP and not even keeping the money?”