CREW (Crew #1)

Chapter Five

Cross was waiting in the parking lot for me the next morning. He was on the back of his truck, the tailgate down, a few others with him. They scattered when I parked and got out.

He jumped off, closing the back as I walked by. “Was your brother mad this morning?”

I grimaced, remembering.

We’d fallen asleep on the hill and woken up early in the morning, way too early. Cross gave me a ride home, and I’d hoped to sneak in, shower, dress, and slip out. It hadn’t worked out that way.

“No.”

I’d thought I was in the clear. Channing and Heather didn’t always sleep with a fan on, but they had one going this morning. I crept in and saw Heather in bed with a lump behind her.

“Never mistake a body pillow for a person. I did that this morning,” I told Cross as we walked across the lot and into the school.

Channing had been right behind me, and the quiet silence of the morning was finished.

“Where were you last night?” he’d demanded.

“Ssshhh!” I’d glanced back at him, but Heather was already rolling around. We’d woken her up.

“He let me leave without much of an explanation,” I told Cross. “But I have to have dinner with him tonight.”

“Doesn’t he work tonight?”

“Yeah.” We got to the school doors, and I used my back to open them. “Guess where we’re going tonight?”

“You’re kidding. Your brother is the opposite of a parent who’d want you to show up for home family meals. How’s he going to do that? Between his guys, his woman, and his bar?”

I shrugged. I’d do my part, show up where or when I had to and let my brother figure out the rest. As long as I was in the clear, for once. I shook my head.

The hallway was full with people, but once we stepped inside, a nice clear path appeared for us. That’s what happened for anyone in a crew. People thought we were gangs. We weren’t. I hated gangs. If it was that situation, I wouldn’t be in. So, no. We weren’t gangs—there was no hazing ritual, and we weren’t in until we decided to risk limb and life to get out. No one told me what to do, not unless I backed them up, and if it was a situation where I didn’t want to back up my guys, that was a whole other problem that needed to be dealt with. We took care of our own, and unlike normal friendships, we went to bat for each other. Sometimes literally. That was the basic rule of being in a crew: you backed each other up. No matter what. Now, I couldn’t say our case was the same for the others. Some were more official. They had auditions, a whole application process, but some just happened naturally.

Those were the best kind.

That’s how we had come to be.

Jordan, Zellman, Cross, and me. We were known as the Wolves, though we didn’t have an official name. There were no T-shirts or secret handshakes. Our crew had formed over several years because of a couple key events. The first was in sixth grade when Zellman was being bullied. Jordan had waded in. He’d thrown kids out of the way and given the bully a couple black eyes. Hence Zellman’s loyalty to Jordan.

The next time was at the end of seventh grade.

A guy tried to creep up on me behind school one day. I fought back, but he had friends. What could’ve happened, I didn’t like to think about.

Cross and I had been friends since Amy Pundrie called me fat in third grade, and Cross told her she was Amy Pigdrie instead. He’d kept calling her that until he got in trouble in fourth grade and was sent to the principal. He only whispered the name after that, and it got shortened to Amy Piggy. Once I hit puberty and realized what it meant to be a girl, I told him to knock it off with the weight-related name-calling. He hadn’t uttered a word about it since, but he still gave her the side-eye sometimes.

Anyway, Cross had shown up the day the creeper was after me, and Jordan and Zellman had shown up too.

Cross took out the guys from the left.

Jordan and Zellman took out the guys from the right.

I returned the favor a few months later when a guy tried to knife Jordan in a fight. I showed up, grabbed the knife, and slammed it into his side. I wasn’t one to throw punches, but people learned to be wary of me when I pulled out a knife. My throwing skills were decent, better than most normal people, but my talent lay in the slicing and dicing motion.

There were other crews that were bigger than ours, but we were the most feared. There was a reason for that.

“You already know your locker and schedule?” Cross asked.

I nodded, heading to my locker. “Unlike you, I showed up for registration last week. Fancy that, me being the good student.”

A few girls were already looking at him. I was somewhat surprised he wasn’t already gone, getting his d**k wet, but it was the first day of the year. He wouldn’t be leaving my side or Jordan and Zellman’s, not unless he was forced away.

He groaned, resting his back against the locker beside mine. “Something tells me it won’t last.”

I grinned, turning the lock until the door opened. Then I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket. I stowed my bag inside and brandished the paper in the air. “Good thing I got your info too.”

He snatched it. “Ah! I love you.”

“What?” an irritated voice exclaimed behind us. “There’s no crew coupling. Or at least there isn’t in yours.”

Cross and I shared a look as he turned around.

“Hey, twin sister.”

Tasmin, who answered only to Taz, beamed up at him. Like Cross, she was naturally tan, with the same tawny hazel eyes and golden blonde hair. Even their lean builds were the same. Cross just had broad shoulders, while Taz was petite. Her hair fell to her waist, and today she’d braided one side along her skull, all the way to the ends.

She was gorgeous, just like her brother.

And while she wasn’t in our crew, she was as close as possible. Cross was protective, keeping her away from the violence, and she also didn’t like the system. She didn’t understand it.

“Hey, twin brother!” She waved a finger between us. “Is this the reason I saw Monica crying at the end of the hall?”

He looked.

I sighed. “I knew it.”

He turned back, frowning. “I never answered your question last night.”

“So you two were together last night?” Taz’s tone was accusing.

Cross cringed.

So did I. This was more attention than we needed. If you were in a crew, you got attention. Any, but especially ours. It was just a fact. Her voice rose and I cursed in my head, wondering who’d pick up on what she was saying and run wild with it. Wolves were infamous, but Cross was infamous in his own right. Me too, if I was being truthful and not hiding from it. Any girl who joined got noticed, and the fact I was in the Wolf Crew, which no one got into—this s**t would be spread before the end of next hour.

I didn’t like it, but I’d have to handle it. Still, this innuendo on Cross and me as a couple didn’t rest easy on my shoulders.

“Hey, hey.” I reached for her finger. She lowered it before I could grab it, and I rested against the neighboring locker. I raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t like that, and you know it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I just think it’s stupid. You two belong together. Now scoot!” She waved at her brother and nodded to the locker behind him. “That’s my locker.” She winked at me. “I pulled some Student Council strings and got us all together.”

“Wait.” He looked down at the paper I’d given him. “My locker is by yours?”

“You’re smart,” I deadpanned.

He rolled his eyes, but I could see a smile.

Taz nodded to where I was resting. “Right there.”

A grin spread over Cross’ face. “Nice. What about—”

“No. Those losers are in another hall.”

Cross and I shared another look, but it was what it was. Taz made no secret of her hatred for Jordan, and her volume had increased over the last two years. Sometimes I wondered if her hate was covering something else. Was there something more going on between Taz and Jordan? I hadn’t braved Taz’s wrath enough to ask her, and when Cross shook his head at me, I knew he hadn’t either.

After grabbing my notepad, I moved out of the way. My locker closed as both of theirs opened.

“This is awesome, Taz.” Cross didn’t have a bag with him, so he tossed his keys inside. “Thank you.”

While her brother was empty-handed, Taz was not. She carried a bag overflowing with items, and she’d pulled a big pink cart behind her. Books were piled high on it, along with locker separators, anything someone would need for an office, and a small dry-erase board. She had cardboard cutouts for photographs and even some pink glittery stuff. I had no clue what she would do with those, but this was Taz. She would make the inside of her locker a masterpiece. I had no doubt.

“Are you kidding me?” She dropped her bag to the floor and began unloading the cart. “You guys are doing me a favor. If you’re both here, the other girls will stay away.” She glanced over her shoulder.

I followed her gaze, but I already knew who she was referring to. There were the usual girls who gawked at Cross, but she meant a whole other group. Though the hallway was busy, that other group had gathered across from us. I recognized a lot of girls from our grade congregating at Sunday Barnes’ locker. Half of them were eyeing Cross.

They saw me, but kept eyeing him as if he were a piece of steak and they were starving. They didn’t care I was here. I frowned at that.

If they saw me watching them, they’d usually look away. My presence alone would deter them. Not today. Today, I saw the hunger in their eyes. The girls were brazen as they watched Cross. Sunday was friends with Monica, but as I skimmed the group, I could see she wasn’t there.

I shifted on my feet, rounding to face them more fully. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like that they were ignoring me, even though I didn’t care that they were here for Cross. That never happened.

“Their notches have gone up,” I mumbled to Cross. They were getting bolder.

He grunted, knowing exactly what I meant.

“Stop that!” Taz protested, her hands on her hips. “I’m the twin. I’m supposed to have the secret language with him. Not you.”

I smiled.

Taz was my only female friend. I liked how feisty she could be, and she wasn’t all f****d up like me. I knew there was pain inside her, but she was spunky. If I wasn’t already best buds with Cross, I might’ve considered Taz my best friend.

Okay. If I was normal, she would’ve been my best friend.

I knew she had a special place in her heart for me too, and a second later her fight was already gone.

She groaned. “And you’re smiling at me. f**k, Bren. I’m like my brother. I can’t stay mad at you for two seconds.”

Cross laughed. Seeming to change his mind, he grabbed his keys, shut his locker, and snatched a pen from me. Moving around me, he kissed his sister on the forehead. “I’ll see you guys later.” He nodded to me, heading down to the other senior hallway.

She looked at me, her face reddening a bit. “He’s going to check in with the other two, isn’t he?”

I nodded. She knew it. I didn’t know why she’d asked.

“We are in a crew together,” I pointed out.

“Yeah.” Her lips pressed together and resolve flashed in her eyes. “That’s up after this year. Thank God.”

I frowned at her, but didn’t say anything. She went back to unloading the cart.

Taz was excited for graduation. She felt she’d get her brother back, and in a way, I understood. She’d confessed this to me a few times after too much wine. See? She wasn’t like us even with her alcohol choice. She was classy, preferring martinis and wine. She’d long graduated from wine coolers. I didn’t even know when she’d had those, but she claimed she had. I preferred the hard stuff, like whiskey or bourbon, or beer. Straight beer. Anything beer. Jordan had been known to get his own pony-keg at times.

But back to Taz. When she last got a little too tipsy, we’d been at a bonfire. We were all sitting on logs, and the guys had taken off, leaving Taz and me behind.

Staring into the fire, she’d started complaining about the group:

We took all of Cross’ time.

We took him away.

He didn’t even stay at the house much anymore.

Thank God we would graduate and disperse.

But not all crews broke up after graduation.

Taz was banking on it, but she was forgetting that sometimes that didn’t happen. It all depended on the group. My brother had one of the longest running crews in Roussou. The only other one to challenge him had broken up a while ago. Their leader got sent to prison for assaulting some of Channing’s friends from Fallen Crest. He was mum on the details, and I didn’t push. If I wanted to know, I could’ve asked around to find out. I just hadn’t cared.

I had a hard time imagining that our crew wouldn’t last.

“Is it just the crew thing? Or is it personal?” I asked Taz tentatively.

Wide-eyed, she turned to me. “What?” I think she’d forgotten I was still here.

“Do you hate the group, or is it me?” I rested my shoulder against my locker, facing her.

“No!” Her mouth fell open, then closed. She shook her head. “No, no. I wouldn’t want you to think that.”

“So, it’s Jordan and Zellman? Or the group as a whole?”

“Wh-what?” She blinked.

I figured it was the crew as a whole, but I wanted to push some buttons here. They were part of my identity, and while I had a soft spot for Taz, it dug inside me that she had such venom for us.

“It can’t be Zellman,” I mused. “He’s a happy fly.” Except in a fight. “Didn’t you and Jordan work at the same place this summer?”

“Wha—huh?” She gaped at me.

“Taz!” a voice called suddenly.

And she just got saved from a couple more uncomfortable questions I’d planned to toss her way. I wanted to poke her a bit about Jordan. That’d have to wait, but I could already feel my desire to push back at her fading away.

Seeing that Sunday Barnes hadn’t stayed at her locker, I knew my time with Taz was done for the morning.

Sunday approached, wearing her cheerleading uniform, with half her group in tow.

Smoothing a hand down her side, she perched her fist on her hip and smiled widely at us. “Taz, Mrs. Bellacheq said you left the squad this year. I was hoping to talk you into joining again.”

Taz and I shared a glance. We both knew I was out, and we moved as one unit.

Taz stepped forward.

I fell back.

Call me unfriendly, but this was how I’d been all my life. I kept to my own, and my own consisted of my crew and Taz. That was it. I’d never played well with other girls, and I had no desire to talk to them. That wasn’t a rule—I could talk to whoever I wanted—it was just my preference.

I’d begun to turn and head in the direction Cross had gone when Sunday raised her voice again.

“Bren!” Her voice hitched at the end, and she cleared her throat. Her smile got even wider. “Hey. Hi. You weren’t at Alex’s party last night.”

I stopped, half-turned away from them.

Taz stepped in front of me. “Come on, Sunday. You know full well I left the squad. You’ve had practice for two weeks by now.”

I glanced back, held Sunday’s gaze for a moment, then turned and left.

Sunday Barnes tried to talk to me.

I frowned to myself as I moved through the second senior hallway. Other girls, no matter where they were on the social ladder, respected the system. They stayed away from us, but she’d violated that rule. Granted, it was an unspoken rule. There was nothing set in stone, but it bothered me.

What I’d noticed earlier was right. Something was changing this year. The girls seemed braver.

I was halfway down the hallway and could already hear Jordan’s voice when a different one cut in. Someone grabbed my arm.

“You didn’t show at my party last night!”

And all hell broke loose.