The Outskirts (The Outskirts Duet #1)

“Sure.”

“Is there any particular reason you’re covered head to toe in ninety-degree heat?”

“I come from a…” I searched for the right word. “Conservative family. This is how I was expected to dress.”

“You could be THE most conservative person on the planet but a few days in Outskirts will have an eighty-year-old pant suit wearing Republican wearing a string bikini in no time.”

I laughed. “I can see why.” I pulled at my high-necked shirt to allow some air through.

“This conservative family of yours. They around?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

“No. Not anymore.”

“Then you might want to visit the thrift store in town. They’ve got some decent stuff and it doesn’t cost a week’s wages. You should check it out. Bebe is the owner. She’s always there. You’ll like her.”

“Thanks,” I said, thinking that new clothes sounded great, but getting a job, a way to earn money, was my first priority.

On the way into town every business we passed, no matter how scattered, were mostly closed with boarded up windows.

“Welcome to The Outskirts,” Josh said. “Home of the boarded-up building and abandoned…” we passed what looked like it used to be a car dealership with CLOSED spelled out on its small marquee by the street. “…everything.”

“What happened to this place?” I asked as we passed a housing development with a crumbling fancy brick gate announcing it as Heritage Acres, where there was nothing but long grass behind it and a half-built guard house. White piping stuck up from the ground every fifty feet or so as far as the eye could see, surrounded by tall weeds.

“What DIDN’T happen to this place?” Josh scoffed. “Throw in a couple of brain eaters and we’d be the complete zombie apocalypse. Nothing but swamp land and unfulfilled dreams.” Josh sighed and looked out the window as if she was seeing the town with my eyes. “This big shot developer came through and promised that Outskirts was going to be the next Disneyworld. A lot of the townsfolk drank the Kool-Aid he was pouring. They used every dollar they had and even dollars they didn’t have to make improvements to their businesses to prepare for the rush of people they were told were coming to town. Parking lots were built, stores, and even hotels started going up everywhere. Residents even sold off big chunks of their farms and land and refinanced their houses to afford the life they were promised was coming, along with all the tourists’ money they expected to fall down around them like rain.” Josh scoffed. “Aries, that was the name of the developer, started building housing developments where a single-family house was going to cost more than what you’d normally pay for an entire farm out here. But people bought into it and Aries did manage to build and finish the water park, but just as it was set to open he picked up and left. That was it. He left us with nothing but excuses about market conditions and a graveyard of half built projects and homes that weren’t worth half of the new amount of their mortgages. People lost their livelihoods. Some lost everything.”

“So what did they do?” I asked.

“A lot of people packed up and left to find work elsewhere or move in with relatives in other towns. But a lot of people stayed too. Small town determination is not something you want to fuck with. People here do not take kindly to being forced from their homes, so they stuck it out best they could and managed best they could. Most people are still here now. Shaken up, a hell of a lot more jaded, but…still here.” She talked with a sense of pride in her voice.

“What about you? How were you affected?” I asked, leaning closer to the air conditioning vent in the dashboard.

“Me?” Josh asked, waving her hand in the air. “I was fine. Rent hadn’t had the chance to change much and I didn’t sell my soul to Aries like some folks did. My parents,” she blew out a breath, “they’re another story. They remortgaged their house to expand and turn it into a bed and breakfast. Their house wasn’t worth a third of what they owed by the time all was said and done.”

“So they lost their house?” I asked. Even though I didn’t know Josh’s family I felt bad for them nonetheless.

“They were about to until another investor bought their note from the bank and offered to rent the house back to them at a ridiculously cheap price. I don’t exactly know how or why they can afford to do it and still make money, but I guess it works for them and I’m not one to question something that doesn’t need questioning. I’m just grateful because my parents, and a whole lot of other people in this town in the same position, would’ve had to move on to greener pastures.” Josh turned the wheel. “This is Main Street.”

Main Street was a wide road with small flat buildings on both sides without a traffic light to be seen. The street itself looked as if it had been paved at one time, but was now littered with crumbling pot holes and a thick layer of dirt and mud. The yellow line striping was barely visible underneath.

“Wow,” I said, taking it all in. Suddenly I felt deflated. “Do you think anyone’s even hiring?” I pointed to a gas station where the pumps had been removed and the windows painted over in thick black brush strokes.

Josh shrugged. “Not sure, but if anyone’s looking for help it would be Critter’s. It’s the bar in town. Only restaurant too. It’s next to the coin laundry. You’ll like Critter. Everyone does. He’s been here his whole life. Shit, he practically IS Outskirts. I can guarantee you that some of the grease in those fryers is older than I am.”

She looked over to me. “How old are you anyway?” she asked.

“As of a few days ago, I’m twenty-one,” I said.

“Well, you look younger than that. It must be the no makeup thing,” Josh said.

I placed my hand on my cheek.

“Not in a bad way,” Josh clarified. “You don’t need anything covering that face. It’s just that most girls our age, I’m twenty-five, by the way, cake that shit on these days like they can’t let people see what they really look like or they’ll melt.”

A dented sign on the road displayed an arrow pointing us in the direction of the Outskirts Sun-N-Fun water park. Someone had spray painted a circle with a line through it.

“Listen, about Finn,” Josh said, changing the subject. “I apologize about him leaving you the way he did. He wasn’t always like that.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” I said. Finn may have been right across the way but I’d decided he was a non-issue. I was going to pretend he wasn’t there and hopefully he’d do the same when it came to me.

“I know, but I just wanted to let you know that he used to be… he used to be something else.” Josh looked out the window as if she was watching a memory replaying in her mind. Her tone softened. “Someone else.”