Two days later, I was just settling back into being a student again when I heard Jordan’s voice over my shoulder.
“Did you threaten that Sweets chick?”
I rounded in surprise, not from the question, but from the person asking. Jordan fell against Taz’s locker next to mine.
“Tabatha Sweets?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I scowled, throwing my book inside my locker. “How’s that your business?”
“I’m your crew.” He folded his arms over his chest. “And it’s her p***y I’d like to get into this weekend.”
“Bad idea.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I stepped back, my other book in hand.
Jordan reached over me to shut my locker. Then we fell in step, heading to my next class.
As usual, a path cleared for us. But since I’d gotten back to school, there’d been more looks, more whispers, more attention.
