Outside Looking In (Browerton University Book 6) Read online

  OUTSIDE LOOKING IN

  A BROWERTON UNIVERSITY BOOK

  A.J. TRUMAN

  OUTSIDE LOOKING IN

  By A.J. Truman

  Copyright 2019 by A.J. Truman. All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy, or transmission in whole or in part of this publication is permitted without express written consent from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either used fictitiously or are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments, or locales is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Also by A.J. Truman

  About the Author

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Cover: GoOnWrite.com, Editing: Jayne Rogers

  Thank you also to Paula and Maureen for beta-reading and helping me whip my blurb into shape. (Blurbs are hard!) And thank you to the readers who have continued to support the Browerton boys. Sorry for the long wait between books! I couldn’t have done this without your enthusiasm and encouragement, Outsiders!

  What’s an Outsider, you say? Oh, just a cool club where you can be the first to know about my new books and receive exclusive content. Join the Outsiders today at www.ajtruman.com/outsiders.

  PROLOGUE

  NATHAN

  Nathan liked celebrating his birthday—not for the presents, but because it was one of the few days of the year when he knew he’d see his dad. They didn’t see each other that often, what with Nathan off at boarding school most of the year. And when Nathan was home on breaks, his father was usually away on business, with his current wife, stepmum number three, tagging along to hit up the local boutiques.

  “Where you going, Ginj?”

  Nathan rolled his eyes. Two of his classmates walked up to him in the lobby of their boarding school, snickering to each other. There always had to be at least two. It was like that light bulb joke: one person to make the stupid comment, and another to laugh at it.

  “Don’t call me Ginj,” Nathan said. This was England. Had they really never seen a redhead before? Apparently, Nathan must’ve been the first ginger student accepted to this school.

  The dipshit duo cracked up behind him.

  “Don’t make him angry,” dipshit number two said. “Gingers go crazy when they get angry. Like an Orange Hulk.” He could barely get that lame joke out before laughing again.

  Nathan gave them the finger.

  “You’re an hour late,” Nathan said when his dad pulled up in his Porsche to the boarding school.

  “We said seven-thirty, didn’t we?”

  “Six-thirty. I do have curfew here.”

  “Which you’ve been breaking. I got another email about it from the headmaster,” his dad said. “What’ve you and your friends been getting up to?”

  “They’re not my friends.” Nathan narrowed his eyes at the road.

  “He heard suspicions of gambling. Have you been organizing an underground casino?”

  “For fuck’s sake, I’m not a bloody pit boss. It’s a poker game. I’ve wiped the floor with my classmates. They bluff about their hands as well as they do about their heterosexuality.”

  His dad turned a shade of red. Nathan had recently come out to him over Christmas holiday, but his dad seemed to have as much interest in that as he did the rest of Nathan’s life.

  “I can’t afford to find yet another school who will take you, Nathan…”

  “The headmaster has only heard rumors. We haven’t been caught.”

  “...because they won’t hesitate. They will throw you right out if you cause trouble.”

  “All right!”

  “I don’t know why you insist on acting out like this.”

  Nathan rested his head against the window, looking out on a neighborhood of little cottages, wondering if the families in them fought as much as they did.

  “‘Hi, Nathan. How are you doing? It’s good to see you. Happy birthday, son! Blimey. I can’t believe you’re fifteen,’” Nathan said to the window in his father’s voice.

  His dad softened his grip on the steering wheel and ran a hand down his thinning dark hair. “It is good to see you, son. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to make it up to see you sooner. I’ve been extremely busy. My clients have been quite restless of late.”

  Nathan nodded along. These excuses were as overplayed as a pop single.

  “How’s school?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “That was a good impression of me,” his dad said. “You should try out for the school play. Do they do that here?”

  “They do. I got the lead. Again.”

  “Oh. I remember that.”

  “You had a trade show in Japan that weekend.” Nathan’s dad had told him that after the fact, leaving his son searching the auditorium on opening night and coming up empty.

  “I wish I could’ve been there.”

  “Sure,” Nathan said and continued feeling jealous of these cottages. “I wish mum were here.”

  “She couldn’t make it, but she sends her regards. She had a—”

  “Not stepmum. My real mum.”

  Silence hung in the air for a full minute until his dad pulled off to the side of the road. Nathan got very still. His dad turned and looked at him solemnly. Nathan felt a tightening in his chest, afraid of what was to come.

  “Why’d you stop?” Nathan asked.

  “Nathan, you’re almost an adult, although I think you’re mature enough now.” His dad gripped the steering wheel. “It’s time you know the truth about your mum.”

  “Truth? She died when I was a few weeks old of an aneurysm. That’s what you told me.”

  “I lied.” His dad looked away.

  “What?” Every ounce of air was knocked out of Nathan. “Dad?”

  “You were too young to know the real truth.”

  The world spun on its side. It reminded him of the few times he’d gotten drunk, where the ground sloped until it took the place of the sky and he couldn’t find his balance.

  “What’s the truth?” Nathan wanted to keep pushing, but was also afraid to find out more.

  Sweat prickled at his dad’s temples and curled through his hair. “The truth is, your mum was a one-night stand. I haven’t seen her since we…made you.”

  “What?!”

  “Fifteen years ago today, there was a knock at my door and a baby on my doorstep. I had a DNA test conducted, and I am your biological father, but your mother…I have no idea.”

  “You have no idea? How is that possible?” Nathan could feel his entire face get red like a comet breaking through the earth’s atmosphere. He was all fire and heat.

&
nbsp; “I remember meeting this bird with a terrible Cockney accent at an Oasis concert about nine months before that.”

  “Oasis?”

  “The band. Wonderwall. ‘Cause maybe, you’re gonna be the one—’”

  “Stop singing. I know who Oasis is. Why are we talking about them?”

  “That’s where I met your mother. We were on mushrooms and wound up shagging in the men’s toilet, but I never got her name.”

  “Dad!” Nathan clapped a hand over his mouth. This had to be a joke. A terrible, terrible joke.

  “I’m being honest with you.”

  “What about the woman who died of an aneurysm?”

  “You had asked about your real mother, and I needed a story.”

  “What about the pictures you showed me?”

  “They were of a girl I went to university with. She was the only redhead I knew.”

  “I can’t fucking believe this. You never tried looking for her?”

  “How could I look for her? I didn’t even know her name.” There was minimal effort on his dad’s part. This wasn’t an actor whose name he couldn’t remember. This was Nathan’s mother! Nathan had wondered if there was another family out there, one who could save him from the cold embrace of his parents and the demonic turds who comprised his extended family.

  “Today isn’t even my real birthday then.”

  “I suppose not.”

  I don’t know my own birthday. That realization more than anything else made Nathan feel like a walking fraud. It was as if he didn’t exist.

  Nathan turned slowly to his dad, who smiled weakly.

  “Do you still want to go to dinner?”

  “Actually, I’d much prefer to go to a pub.”

  “But you’re not—”

  Nathan whipped out a Fake ID from his wallet.

  “Nathan!”

  “Please. Just drive,” Nathan said, before his dad could try to parent with another lecture.

  Chapter 1

  SEVEN YEARS LATER

  NATHAN

  “How are you feeling? It’s the big day,” his counselor said, as if it was graduation day. For a woman who espoused peace, relaxation, and mindfulness, her hair was pulled back into an awfully tight bun. The tightness made her eyebrows arch up, as if they were getting sucked into the bun, too. It was something Nathan had noticed during all their sessions together over the past thirty days. He had needed something to focus on, since she loved to repeat herself. What other advice did she have besides don’t get sloppy drunk?

  Her heels, meant more for climbing the corporate ladder than a posh rehab facility, clacked on the stone walkway around the sculpture garden.

  “It’s just one day. One day at a time,” Nathan said, knowing she would like that. Before he could leave, he had to take a stroll with his counselor through the garden of eternal peace and talk out any final fears. They passed people meditating and doing yoga on the grounds.

  “And what do you mean by that?” she asked.

  Nathan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She was always doing this, asking him to explain something she already knew, thinking it would take on extra significance if he broke it down. People in here loved to talk talk talk. (Fortunately, Nathan had also discovered a few guys who also loved to fuck fuck fuck.)

  “I’m going to attend AA meetings every day and be mindful in my decisions.”

  “And what do you mean by mindful?”

  “Present. I will think before I act. Every time I want to drink, I will think about what’s causing this decision, isolate those feelings, and make a better choice.”

  She paused at a sculpture of a teal rectangle perched on its corner with a circular cut in the middle. “Nathan, cut the bullshit.”

  “What?” Nobody ever cursed in rehab, especially not the counselors. “What happened to the flowery, hippie-like language?”

  “I used to be a VP of marketing. I know how to level with people when I need to.” She arched one of her already arched eyebrows at him so that it looked like an upside down V. “You’ve obviously been listening in our sessions, but have you been listening?”

  “I have. Every word.”

  “Really listening, though.” She peered into his eyes, searching for something. “You’re an actor, Nathan. I hope this past month hasn’t been a performance for us. I know you’re somewhat of a pro.”

  “Does it count as being a professional actor if you get fired from your first role?”

  “I wasn’t talking about your motion picture career. This is your second time here in six months. You did so well last time, but then you were back here three months later.”

  “I missed the artwork. It’s very Delia Deetz. You know, from Beetlejuice. Catherine O’Hara is my redheaded sister-in-arms.” Nathan dragged his finger along an octopus-looking sculpture and pushed down the feelings rising in his chest. He didn’t like to be reminded of his failures. There were too many.

  They rounded the trail and strolled under a thicket of pine trees. “For sobriety to stick, you need to take this seriously and put in the work. I don’t want you to wind up back here, or in jail.”

  He held her hands and squeezed them as he peered back at her as earnestly as he could muster. “I won’t.”

  He would not be back here. Because rehab was for people who were actual addicts. Nathan had drunk a little too much last November and had gotten into a bar fight, like one does. His father decided to be a parent for the first time in his life and shuttled him off to this place. That did not make him an alcoholic. Nor did winding up passed out in the alley behind his flat a few months later.

  So he would drink too much sometimes and got a bit belligerent. So did any Manchester United or Arsenal fan! Rehab was simply the quickest way to get the authorities and his father, when he did decide to care, off his back.

  “When is your father picking you up? I wish he and your mum could’ve attended for a family session.”

  “Stepmum,” Nathan said.

  “Sorry.”

  “Unfortunately, he had to attend a conference this weekend. He’s delivering the keynote, and I told him he shouldn’t miss it. It is a massive opportunity.” Right about now, his father and stepmother were tanning themselves silly on a beach in Hawaii. The only keynote he was delivering was asking a hotel waitress to refill his mai tai.

  She pulled a business card from her suit jacket pocket. He admired her for not giving into the crunchiness of this place and dressing in baggy, rumpled clothes like the other counselors.

  “This is the information for a therapist in London. Besides going to meetings, I think it would benefit you to talk to him. We never got a chance to talk about your real mum.”

  “Sadly, I don’t remember her. Like I told you, she died of an aneurysm when I was an infant, but I like to think she’s watching down on me from heaven.”

  “That’s exactly what you said when I first brought her up. Nearly word for word.”

  Nathan bit back the pain crawling up his throat. He shrugged his shoulders. “Because that’s all I know.”

  Like fuck was he going to tell her or anyone the real truth about his mother. Any therapist would get a massive hard-on at that sordid little story. What was there to talk about? He was conceived in a porta-potty at an Oasis concert. Nine months later, she left him on his dad’s doorstep and wanted nothing to do with him. No good would come from rehashing that history. He was going to care about her as much as she cared about him, which was not at all.

  His counselor studied his eyes again, but too bad for her, Nathan’s storytelling ability could beat her bullshit detector every time.

  “Nathan, you need to take this seriously. Rehab is only a first step.” She held onto his hands again, much like a mother would, Nathan thought. Well, other people’s mothers. Her penetrating gaze cut through the armor he needed to survive such a touchy-feely place like this. “I see a part of myself in you. I had money and success and a sarcastic sense of humor, but there was a hole inside m
e I kept ignoring. I didn’t think I had a problem. And then I lost everything.”

  She looked away for a moment and composed herself. Nathan rubbed her shoulder, then gave her a hug. He appreciated that she’d shared about her divorce in a session once. He wasn’t the type to be open like that.

  “I’ll work on myself. I’ll go to meetings and keep doing yoga. I promise.”

  “Nathan...”

  “I’m telling you the truth.”

  “It’s time you start telling the truth to yourself.”

  He put on a smile even though his insides were charred black. He swung her hands back and forth like their arms were jump rope. “I’ll be fine. One day at a time, right?”

  “LANDING IS ALWAYS THE HARD PART.” Nathan dipped his olive into his vodka martini a week later. Sobriety had been incredibly boring. “Think about it. You’re in a tin can careening to the ground at three hundred kilometers per hour. It’s bound to be bumpy. But I pride myself on having the smoothest landings.”

  “Wow.” The guy across from Nathan shook his head in disbelief. “I could never be a Royal Air Force pilot. It sounds terrifying. I’ll gladly stay behind my camera.”

  “It’s nothing.” Nathan shrugged and took a sip. “I live for the excitement.”

  He wasn’t too impressed with this new bar. It looked like every other trendy place in Soho. Dark lighting and red curtains and plush couches. At least the bartenders weren’t just eye candy; they could make a decent drink.

  “So do you wear those flying hats?” The guy asked. “You know. The ones with the brim that goes out to here and they’re round on top?”

  He tried shaping it above his head. Nathan would never play charades with him.

  “Yes, a captain’s hat. I’m aware of what they are.” Nathan tacked on a laugh at the end.

  “Have you flown in combat?”

  “Several times, of course. I was part of the unit that captured one of the heads of ISIS.”

  “Really?” The guy’s eyes nearly flopped out of his head. His brain might not be that big, but by the look of his large hands, something more important was.